Vermiglio (2024)

Direction: Maura Delpero
Country: Italy / Frane / Belgium

Vermiglio is a slow-burning yet largely compelling drama that thrives on its brooding atmosphere and tonal consistency. The title refers to a mountainous region where the harsh wintry landscape and limited resources underscore the hardships of wartime life.

Set in 1944, the film follows Pietro Riso (Giuseppe De Domenico), a deserting soldier who arrives in the village and falls in love with Lucia (Martina Scrinzi), the eldest daughter of the schoolteacher. Their love culminates in marriage, but fate, as often, proves unkind. Simultaneously, we witness the teacher's (Tommaso Ragno) personal struggles and the tribulations of two of his other children: Ada (Roberta Rovelli), tormented by guilt over impure thoughts and resorting to self-punishment, and Dino (Patrick Gardner), a wine-drinking boy who struggles academically.

Desolation and inertia permeate this powerful, well-acted tale, brought to life by Maura Delpero’s assured direction and elegantly composed visuals. Her meticulous gaze channels echoes of Anton Chekhov and Nuri Bilge Ceylan, prompting reflection on life’s quiet sorrows and joys. Despite the film’s languid pace and contemplative storytelling, Delpero persistently seeks and captures moments of humanity in her second foray into fictional filmmaking. The bittersweet Vermiglio earned the Grand Jury Prize at Venice.

The Room Next Door (2024)

Direction: Pedro Almodovar
Country: USA 

The Room Next Door proves to be a far better book than a movie. Celebrated Spanish director Pedro Almodóvar adapts Sigrid Nunez’s What Are You Going Through with conventional dialogue and a calm, polished dramatization that feels too cerebral to evoke powerful emotions.

Despite its heavy central theme, the film isn't a painful watch. It's poignant, occasionally depressing, yet also comforting as it portrays a touching relationship between two captivating characters who admire one another deeply. Ingrid (Julianne Moore), a celebrated author, unexpectedly reconnects with Martha (Tilda Swinton), a retired New York Times war journalist battling stage-three cervical cancer and undergoing experimental treatment. After a failed round of treatment, Martha makes a disconcerting request, asking Ingrid to be present in "the room next door" when she takes an euthanasia pill. Though troubled by the request, Ingrid agrees out of compassion and loyalty. 

The film boasts top-tier performances, though they cannot completely overshadow script oscillations and a certain stiffness in the dialogue. Almodóvar orchestrates the story with elegance, presenting a sober, aesthetically refined depiction that acknowledges the fragile beauty of life while delicately studying suffering. Themes of death, forgiveness, friendship, and regret unfold in a series of contemplations that often feel superfluous. The absence of surprising twists, dramatic friction, or even subdued intensity reveals a more restrained and simplistic Almodóvar, lacking the emotional weight of his past masterpieces. 

The weight of the film rests entirely on the shoulders of its exceptional actors, with Moore and Swinton—the latter delivering another remarkable double role—holding the film together with a genuine friendship supported in honesty and compassion. 
Failing to make a lasting, thought-provoking impression, The Room Next Door still has power, but not as much as it should. Blame the restrained aesthetics, light approach, and occasional conversational inelasticity.

A Real Pain (2024)

Direction: Jesse Eisenberg
Country: USA

A Real Pain, the sophomore directorial feature by Jesse Eisenberg, who also stars, focuses on two American Jewish cousins having a hard time to fully reconnect and deal with their feelings during a one-week trip to Poland to honor their late grandmother. David (Eisenberg), a devoted husband and father, is reserved, obsessive-compulsive, sentimental, and occasionally jealous. In contrast, Benji (Kieran Culkin) is a free-spirited, bluntly honest, impulsive, and depressive foil. While both are grateful for the shared journey, their genuine friendship is rife with tension and friction.

This seriocomic slice of life, penned by Eisenberg, feels effortlessly light, even as it navigates a series of awkward situations. However, the narrative structure is so sparse it often feels skeletal. Dramatic moments occasionally fail to reach their emotional apex, and the simplistic character psychology aligns with a script that seems designed more to gently entertain than to provoke or deeply resonate.

The premise dissipates quickly, leaving surface impressions that fluctuate between pleasantly whimsical and mildly moving. The film’s subdued emotional tone is further undercut by its ambiguous and bittersweet ending, which feels stagnant. What raises A Real Pain slightly above the mediocrity is its comic riffs—toggling between annoying and amusing—and the strong chemistry between Culkin and Eisenberg. The quirkiest thing about it is how much it spends in trivial details at the sound of Chopin’s melancholic nocturnes and waltzes. Not being particularly inventive or diverting, A Real Pain remains in tepid waters for most of its duration, and failed to move me in almost every aspect.

The Order (2024)

Direction: Justin Kurzel
Country: USA

In Justin Kurzel’s crime thriller The Order, Robert Matthews (Nicholas Hoult), a staunch neo-nazi affiliated with the Aryan Nations puts words into action, following the method described in the notorious book The Turner Diaries—authored by National Alliance founder William Luther Pierce—turning hateful rhetoric into violent action, and following its blueprint for armed revolution and assassination tactics. Declaring war on the federal government and engaging in domestic terrorism, Matthews faces off against Terry Husk (Jude Law in a muscular performance), a hardened, short-tempered FBI agent determined to dismantle the rise of white supremacy. 

Set in the early 1980s, the fact-based script by Zachary Baylin (King Richard, 2021; Creed III, 2023) combines historical authenticity with narrative urgency. Initially unfolding as a conventional thriller, the film gradually deepens into a darker exploration of extremism in a satisfying combination of genre thrills and real-life implications. It deftly captures the disturbing proximity between extremist ideologies and their violent manifestations, challenging viewers to confront these realities. 

Visually unremarkable and interspersed with bursts of repetitive action, The Order distinguishes itself through its compelling emphasis on character. Hoult and Law deliver intense performances that anchor the narrative, while Kurzel, known for Snowtown (2011) and Nitram (2021), demonstrates a measured approach to the sensitive subject matter. He skillfully balances the film's elements, allowing the actors to discover moments of nuance, rhythm, and vulnerability within the story. 

Equal parts unsettling and candid, The Order doesn’t quite transcend genre expectations, yet some may find curiosity in the way Kurzel explores the themes.

Small Things Like These (2024)

Direction: Tim Mielants
Country: Ireland / Belgium

Based on Claire Keegan’s best-selling novel, Small Things Like These is a poignant Irish film directed by Belgian filmmaker Tim Mielants (Patrick, 2019), with a screenplay by Enda Walsh, co-writer of Hunger (2008) alongside Steve McQueen. The film stars Cillian Murphy as Bill Furlong, a quiet and diligent coal merchant who uncovers a harrowing secret within his small town’s convent. The mother superior, Sister Mary (Emily Watson), attempts to buy his silence with Christmas gifts, but Bill remains haunted by what he witnesses during his deliveries. As the story unfolds, he confronts unsettling truths about his own past.

The film’s naturalistic treatment—marked by nuanced performances and understated direction—heightens the realism of a story that is quietly profound in its simplicity and austerity. While it lacks a traditional climax and occasionally struggles with languid pacing, the narrative resonates deeply as a restrained yet powerful exploration of Catholic institutional abuses. Unlike more sensationalist approaches, the film opts for a steady, somber tone, subtly gesturing toward the hope of change.

Mielants crafts a sincere, lugubrious historical drama suffused with disenchantment and anguish. It stands as a deeply humanistic work, highlighting the imperative of rescuing young victims from the cruelty of unsupervised religious institutions. However, the film occasionally stumbles upon its understated ambitions, with moments of narrative ennui and a tendency to leave its emotional potential underexplored.

I was touched in the end, but never got hooked during the narrative process. I wanted to feel more, I guess. Yet, the ones who stay with the film may find a quiet reward in its understated power.

Gladiator II (2024)

Direction: Ridley Scott
Country: USA 

Ridley Scott cements his reputation as a master of epic cinema with Gladiator II, an arguably unnecessary but undeniably entertaining action spectacle that revels in physical clashes and dramatic intensity. Written by David Scarpa, this sequel introduces Paul Mescal as Lucius Verus Aurelius, the son of Maximus (played by Russell Crowe in the original).

Fifteen years after Maximus’ death, Lucius returns to a corrupt Rome after the Roman army's brutal campaign in Numidia, North Africa. Haunted by the murder of his wife, he vows vengeance, reconnects with his mother, Lucilla (Connie Nielsen), and finds himself under the tutelage of Macrinus (Denzel Washington), a former slave with ambitions to rule Rome. 

While it breaks no new ground narratively, this colossal production builds momentum as it unfolds, eventually drawing viewers into its dramatic core. It is a visceral, blood-soaked exploration of power, war, revenge, and emancipation, holding the audience captive with its steamy visuals and audacious premise. The fight sequences erupt with the force of a volcano, and Scott elicits compelling performances from his cast. 

Despite its shortcomings, Gladiator II delivers a full-bodied adventure that skillfully balances responsiveness to its audience’s expectations with a reverence for the epic grandeur of its predecessor.

The Count of Monte Cristo (2024)

Direction: Matthieu Delaporte, Alexandre de La Patellière
Country: France 

For their third feature film, French filmmakers and screenwriters Matthieu Delaporte and Alexandre de La Patellière take on Alexandre Dumas’ classic The Count of Monte Cristo, a sweeping tale of love, tragedy, and revenge.

With its meticulous period details, lush settings, and an old-fashioned approach to storytelling, this grand production delivers visual flair but falls short in generating excitement, suffering from a lack of surprises. While this tame, three-hour adaptation replaces some characters and unfolds with formal, somewhat academic staging, it nonetheless secured a strong position at the French box office.

Pierre Niney (Frantz, 2016; Yves Saint Laurent, 2014) is appropriately earnest as Edmond Dantès. Wrongfully imprisoned and later escaping from a remote island prison, Dantès orchestrates a calculated revenge against the three men—Danglars, Gérard de Villefort, and Fernand de Morcerf—who destroyed his life. 

It’s a constant battle between polished images and undramatic sequences that could be better matured. Still, there's still something to ponder about the vengeful Count tale that's worth pondering. If nothing else, this adaptation serves as a nostalgic reminder that, on occasion, they still make movies like they used to.

My Old Ass (2024)

Direction: Megan Park
Country: Canada

Megan Park’s sophomore directorial feature, My Old Ass, is a refreshingly spontaneous coming-of-age comedy that captures the vibrant, messy tapestry of teenage life with authenticity and warmth. At the heart of the film is a breakout performance by Canadian singer and actress Maisy Stella, making her feature film debut after her time on the musical television series Nashville.

Stella is Elliott, an 18-year-old who, during the course of a mushrooms trip, has contact with her 39-year-old self (Aubrey Plaza). What begins as a quirky exchange of life advice quickly becomes a heartfelt exploration of self-discovery, as Elliott grapples with the rebelliousness of youth and the unpredictable outcomes of love. 

Sweet but not cheesy, the film stands out for its originality and relatable charm. While it may not reinvent the teen rom-com genre, it handles themes like sexual orientation with a light, natural touch, brimming with hopefulness, self-discovery, and a sense of wonder about life and love.

Park, who impressed audiences with The Fallout in 2021, opts for simplicity, focusing on genuine human connection. This approach succeeds largely due to the chemistry of her leads, with Stella’s Elliott beautifully complemented by Percy Hynes White’s performance. My Old Ass is a gutsy and endearing ode to youth, a well-crafted tale of living life to its fullest and confronting the inevitable fear of loss. It’s an enjoyable, life-affirming watch that will leave you smiling, even if its charm is more fleeting than indelible.

Conclave (2024)

Direction: Edward Berger
Country: UK / USA

From Andrew Berger, the German director behind the multi-award-winning anti-war epic All Quiet on the Western Front (2022), Andrew Berger, comes the more subdued Conclave. This religion-themed thriller, penned by Peter Straughan and based on Robert Harris’ 2016 novel, delves into the shadowy world of Vatican politics. Ralph Fiennes takes the lead as Cardinal-Dean Thomas Lawrence, a man grappling with a personal crisis of faith while tasked with overseeing the papal conclave following the pope's sudden death.

As the slow and ritualistic process of selecting the new leader of the Catholic Church unfolds, Lawrence encounters a web of secrets, conspiracies, prejudice, and ambition. Among the candidates vying for the position, one figure stands out: Vincent Benitez (Carlos Diehz), a little-known Mexican archbishop stationed in Kabul, whose presence stirs unease and curiosity among the cardinals.

Cocooned in gravitas and profound doubt, Conclave thrives on the nuanced performances of its  seasoned cast. Fiennes, for example, not only chews the scenery but savors it, as he expresses deep concern about the future of the church with Stanley Tucci and Isabella Rossellini offering strong supporting turns. 

Although not particularly groundbreaking in its clash of modernity and tradition within the Church, the film at least never commits the deadliest sin in cinema: boredom, providing enough good material to keep its iniquitous fires burning. Yet, this gun-free thriller—effectively blending faith, tradition, and politics—could have been even more gripping if infused with more scandal, intrigue, and mystery. Ultimately, your enjoyment of Conclave may depend on your perspective on its themes.

Separated (2024)

Direction: Errol Morris
Country: USA 

After reading Separated: Inside an American Tragedy by journalist Jacob Soboroff, acclaimed documentarian Errol Morris (The Thin Blue Line, 1988; The Fog of War, 2003) was compelled to adapt it into a film. The documentary tackles the Trump administration’s ‘zero tolerance’ immigration policy that led to the traumatic separation of migrant parents and children. The resulting film is informative but not particularly engaging, blending interviews with an arguably unnecessary fictionalized depiction of a Guatemalan mother and son’s border crossing, played by Gabriela Cartol and Diego Armando Lara Lagunes.

Soboroff is featured in the film as well as former major figures at the Office of Refugee Resettlement, Cptn. Jonathan White and Scott Lloyd. White’s assertive critique contrasts starkly with Lloyd’s visible discomfort, underscoring the policy’s damaging impact. Due to extended media coverage, most of the details feel overly familiar, and yet it effectively captures the policy’s inhumane implications, serving as a sobering reminder of the need for accountability.

Separated is cleanly arrayed but feels somewhat timid as a terrifying wake-up call that makes us want a better America. Though not groundbreaking, this political documentary tells us we all need to demand more from our politicians, advocating for a more compassionate solution.

Bookworm (2024)

Direction: Ant Timpson
Country: New Zealand

The lighthearted comedy Bookworm offers a delightful father-daughter adventure set against the lush wilderness of New Zealand. Directed by Ant Timpson with a screenplay by Toby Harvey, the film follows 11-year-old Mildred (Nell Fisher), a witty, sarcastic bookworm, and her estranged father Strawn Wise (Elijah Wood), a washed-up American illusionist who arrives to care for her after her mother is suddenly hospitalized. Together, they embark on a camping trip to track down the legendary Canterbury Panther. 

Set against scenic landscapes, Bookworm brings feel-good charm and beautiful visuals. While it could have leaned more into its quirky potential, and though some scenes feel slightly off and the finale a bit forced, the film maintains solid family-friendly appeal and leaves viewers with a warm sense of happiness. Surprisingly impish, it’s an adventure comedy with more good moments than missteps.

Afloat (2024)

Direction: Aslihan Unaldi
Country: Turkey 

This well-crafted drama written and directed by debutant Aslihan Unaldi has its flaws but remains engaging. An intimate, unsettling look at Turkey's bourgeoisie, the film explores family dynamics with a script that provides just enough clarity to hold the viewer's interest.

The story centers on New York-based Zaynep (Nihan Aker), an aspiring documentarian, who arrives in a small coastal Turkish town to spend some family time with her divorced parents (Lila Gürmen and Serhat Ünaldi) and younger sister (Elit Iscan). She brings her protective American husband, Stephen (Oscar Pearce), with her. The confined spaces and limited privacy on the boat play a role here, enhancing tensions in a low-key chamber piece that, never really boiling, generates a subtle intrigue. 

The film seems compassionate to, and appreciative of, the people it chronicles, showing a somewhat vague if curious political side that characterizes contemporary Turkey. Much of the action unfolds naturally, steering clear of the melodrama that often dominates family narratives. Unaldi’s unobtrusive filmmaking style shows promise, and the female cast members deliver particularly compelling performances.

The Substance (2024)

Direction: Coralie Fargeat
Country: USA

Coralie Fargeat’s sophomore feature, The Substance, is set to be hailed as the shock film of the year. A grotesque blend of body horror with sharp satirical overtones, it escalates in bizarre intensity until it reaches the brink of madness.

The film stars Demi Moore as Elisabeth Sparkle, an aging TV star who injects a miraculous substance designed to unlock her DNA, creating a younger, more beautiful version of herself. That version is played with mischievous charm by Margaret Qualley. However, Sparkle fails to adhere to the crucial condition—switch bodies every seven days—and struggles to comprehend the delicate balance needed for both versions to coexist.

The pumped up narrative swirls us up in this woman's obsession, invoking the transgressive and visceral visual traits reminiscent of David Cronenberg and John Carpenter. At its best, the film maintains a tense and unnerving atmosphere, but just as it has you on the edge of your seat, it spirals into gratuitous violence and excessive gore.

Fargeat's creation is undeniably horrific, but she pushes it too far, especially in the final act. The relentless gore feels less like a narrative necessity and more like a transgressive indulgence, ultimately undermining the careful creepiness that initially made it gripping. The last section is so filthy and exaggerated that it risks alienating viewers, leaving one to wonder why the director chose to tarnish what could have been a chillingly effective film.

The Substance is nauseating but undeniably powerful, shocking yet audacious. It’s an outrageously bloodthirsty dark fantasy that demands a strong stomach. Had Fargeat reined in the excess, it could have been a standout horror. Nevertheless, both Moore and Qualley deliver striking performances.

Kneecap (2024)

Direction: Rich Peppiatt
Country: Ireland / UK

Kneecap is an ebullient, schizophrenic biopic about the Belfast-based hip-hop trio of the same name, which unexpectedly became the symbol of a civil rights movement dedicated to preserving their native language. Written and directed by Rich Peppiatt, the film thrives on the impetuosity of the rappers—Liam, Naoise, and JJ—their energetic music, anarchic irreverence, and the politically charged atmosphere of Northern Ireland. Though the film occasionally wavers between authenticity and promotional flair, it delivers enough sharp moments and humor to keep audiences engaged. 

While the true story is refreshingly original, the film’s sensationalist execution—marked by a fast editing and bouncing rhythm—feels like a pastiche of Trainspotting (1996) and 8 Mile (2002), with a dash of Guy Ritchie’s gangster flair thrown in the mix. Despite leaning on a familiar formula and evoking a sense of déjà vu, there’s a palpable passion driving the project. This gritty urban narrative brashly entertains, capturing the rebellious spirit of a trio criticized for glorifying drug use, anti-social behavior, and violence in their lyrics. As they pursue success, they must navigate opposition from Ulster-loyal police, politicians, and dangerous paramilitary groups. Without breaking new ground, Kneecap effectively captures the spark and controversy surrounding the group.

How to Make Millions Before Grandma Dies (2024)

Direction: Pat Boonnitipat
Country: Thailand 

The intergenerational comedy drama How To Make Millions Before Grandma Dies is a temperate charmer, though it wrestles with some predictability in its plot. Directed and co-written by 34-year-old filmmaker Pat Boonnitipat in his feature debut, the film manages to strike an emotional chord while maintaining a light touch. The narrative centers on M (Putthipong "Billkin" Assaratanakul), a college dropout and compulsive gamer with a tendency to squander money. He volunteers to care for his 79-year-old grandmother (Usha "Taew" Seamkhum), who is dying from stomach cancer, but his motives are questionable from the start.

Despite uneven, the film delivers a feel-good experience, offering a sober and bittersweet reflection on family relationships. It can be quite mellow in spots but definitely not choppy, celebrating cranky grandmothers with big hearts and fierce independence. Even in its most painful moments, How to Make Millions retains a sense of gentleness, thanks to an accumulation of small details—both sad and funny—that make the characters relatable and endearing. Seamkhum, in particular, delivers a standout performance, grounding the film in authenticity. 

It’s not hard to guess where the story goes, but this Asian neo-realist effort sincerely acknowledges the sadness of being near death with both heartbreaking and heartwarming gestures. Boonnitipat makes an unabashedly sentimental move with an irresistible sweetness.

Oddity (2024)

Direction: Damian McCarthy
Country: Ireland

Oddity, a slow-blooming portrait of doomed love, immediately thrusts its audience into a realm of disquiet and discomfort. With a Hitchcockian mood and tone, the film itself is a cinematic oddity, playing well with symbolism and emotions but failing at cohere completely.  

Surreally mounted and beautifully shot, Oddity follows Darcy Odello (Carolyn Bracken), a blind token-objet reader woman and antique shop owner who decides to investigate her twin sister’s murder one year after it happened. Armed with a mysterious wooden figure, she stays at the country house where her sister was killed, allegedly by a former patient of her psychiatrist husband, Ted Timmis (Gwilym Lee). 

Without straining to make an obvious point, the director Damian McCarthy (Caveat, 2020) builds tension as we keep gaining interest, teasing before delivering a few well-placed chills. His proclivity for the horror genre is no fluke, but his sophomore feature is one to be savored for its atmosphere than remembered for its impact. Oddity unfortunately culminates in a bland, disappointing finale, one that is more amusing than spooky. While the film doesn't totally click on all fronts, there is enough darkness in its DNA to satisfy enthusiasts of the genre.

In Our Day (2024)

Direction: Hong Sang-soo
Country: South Korea

Korean director Hong Sang-soo's 30th feature, In Our Day, is a breezy, minor effort that may not be particularly thought-provoking but is deeply explorative of life and art. With his trademark understated style, Hong once again embraces simplicity, allowing the melancholy undertones of the film to ebb and flow without pointing toward any specific destination.

In Our Day seems to carry an autobiographical touch, presenting two parallel stories that involve established artists and their younger admirers, who are curious about their careers and perspectives. The film’s naturalistic staging, dialogue, and human interactions lean toward minimalism, yet there are subtle but significant details woven throughout. It’s a double moral tale that gets the form of a plotless slow burn, stripped of complexity and anchored by serene performances from an ensemble cast that makes it as breezy as a stroll in Central Park. 

Hong himself frames the film with meticulous attention to image composition, adding a layer of visual care that compensates for the film’s modest ambitions. In Our Day may not be mind-blowing in its ideas, but it radiates warmth and gentle humor. It's a human and occasionally touching film, though it demands patience from viewers, asking them to find pleasure in the small moments and connect with its characters, a task that may not always come easily. 

Ghostlight (2024)

Direction: Alex Thompson, Kelly O'Sullivan 
Country: USA

Ghostlight, set in Chicago, is an intimate drama that delves into themes of family, loss, art, and healing. Directed by Alex Thompson and Kelly O’Sullivan, the film stars Keith Kupferer, Katherine Mallen Kupferer, and Tara Mallen — a real-life father, daughter, and mother trio who portray the same familial roles in this fictional account.

Dan (Keith Kupferer), a stressed out construction worker, finds himself reluctantly drawn into a local theater company by middle-aged actress Rita (Dolly de Leon). The group is rehearsing Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet, a tragedy that stirs painful memories of Dan’s own personal loss. Yet, the chance to escape into another character's life might be exactly what he needs to begin healing. 

The film manages to sustain tension, though it occasionally undercuts itself by resolving conflicts too swiftly. Without trivializing the emotions involved, the filmmakers craft a poetic melodrama that doesn’t strive for perfection but rather for honesty, offering moments of piercing observation. The scope of the plot actually widens with the theatric representation, an emotional expression that further fuels the narrative. 

Ghostlight confronts viewers with a keen understanding of the cracks that emerge in people over time as they wrestle with grief and the mysteries of life. The movie denotes a bit of formula and calculation as the directors put out a play for us — so, if you’re looking to be wowed, this may not do the trick. With that said, I still believe it’s worth checking out just for its newfound parallels and poignant exploration of human emotions.

Babes (2024)

Direction: Pamela Adlon
Country: USA

Actress turned director Pamela Adlon makes her directorial feature debut with Babes, a quintessential New York comedy centered on motherhood and female friendship. While not a revolutionary tale, the film draws its strengths from fine performances, side steps, juicy details, and broken of taboos.

The story follows Eden (Ilana Glazer), who unexpectedly becomes pregnant after a one-night-stand, and her long-time best friend, Dawn (Michelle Buteau), who is married and has just had her second child. Tensions between the nearly inseparable pair escalate to a frantic boil, exacerbated by the emotional fluctuations and frustrations of being a mom. 

Though the catalogue of family troubles and various conflicts is familiar, the film is humanely observed and profuse on witty banter. The dialogue is fast and pungent, and the pacing is suave, all delivered with a good heart. Even the most clichéd moments can feel emotionally true in this lighthearted film, which, despite its faults, tries to march to a different drum than the most of Hollywood comedies.

Babes might not be as funny as some have claimed, but focuses on how these two friends rely on each other and grow through life's blessings and adversities. It’s an entertaining film aimed at adults.

Sisi & I (2024)

Direction: Frauke Finsterwalder
Country: Germany / Austria / Switzerland 

The fourth feature by German director Frauke Finsterwalder, Sisi & I, is a work of fiction inspired by historical reality. Co-written by Finsterwalder and Swiss author Christian Kracht, the film centers on the relationship between Empress Elizabeth of Austria, a.k.a. Sisi, and her last lady-in-waiting, the Hungarian Countess Irma Sztáray. 

Late in the 19th century, Irma (Sandra Huller) travels to the Greek island of Corfu to serve the reclusive, sometimes jubilant, sometimes moody, but often manipulative Empress (Susanne Wolff), overwhelmed by the demands of her duties. Desperate to avoid returning to court, Sisi’s constant fight against boredom is eased with cocaine elixirs, the occasional visits of her free-spirited friend, the Archduke Ludwig Viktor (Georg Friedrich), and her special bond with Irma. Yet, intense depression soon interferes with her leisure life.

Not as dynamic and provocative as Marie Kreutzer’s Corsage (2022), which explores similar territory, Sisi & I strikes a balance between the classic and the modern, especially through the sets and the anachronistic soundtrack - the charm of Portishead’s trip-hop gem “Glory Box” inundating the opening scene is undeniable. 

In her unflashy version, Finsterwalder chooses a common route, staging the story in her own terms and bringing some curious details into the fold. She makes a gracious, if occasionally tedious, effort to portray two frustrated women, modern for their time, who find refuge in a singular friendship. Despite its unevenness and tonal fluctuations, the film unpacks a feminist manifesto on power, sexuality, independence, allegiance, and sometimes cruelty. The sharp cinematography by Thomas W. Kiennast and the costume design by Tanja Hausner are assets, but the well-groomed film itself is a minor vehicle to deliver Huller's sober but firm performance.