Origin (2024)

Direction: Ava DuVernay
Country: USA

Directed by Ava DuVernay, known for Selma (2014) and 13th (2016), Origin is a wobbly biographical drama based on Isabel Wilkerson’s Pulitzer Prize-winning book Caste: the Origins of our Discontents, published in 2020. 

Grappling with family loss, Isabel (Aunjanue Ellis-Taylor) decides to spend more time researching the cultural divides of caste and racism across different continents, the topic of her new book. She travels to Germany and India to better understand the Nazi regime and the Dalit situation, respectively. Comparisons with segregation in the United States are analyzed. 

Despite noble intentions, this dramatization crumbles due to a disjointed, bumpy narrative. Rigid in the moves and broken in structure, Origin is turned into a film-lecture, whose content and ideas don’t really gel on the screen. More interested in a didactic presentation and in defending its point of view than being compelling, the film soon becomes erratic, displaying more heart than mind. Pathos and sentimentality are often potentiated by Kris Bowers’ mellow musical score. 

The message DuVernay aims to convey doesn’t come across clearly, and the results instead of reaching any state of maturation, feel merely superficial. It’s surprising how tame the film is, taking into account its weighty subject matter. Origin may be informative in some aspects but not to the point of making us remember it as a powerful statement.

Society of the Snow (2023)

Direction: Juan Antonio Bayona
Country: Spain / USA

From the Spanish director of The Orphanage (2007) and The Impossible (2012), Juan Antonio Bayona, Society of the Snow is a moving tale of survival against all odds and a magnificent lesson in courage and hope. Adapting Pablo Vierci’s book of the same name, Bayona, along with his three co-writing associates, solidly depicts the 1972 crash in the Andes Mountains of an Uruguayan Air Force plane transporting a rugby team from Montevideo to Santiago. 16 people miraculously survive in unimaginable conditions after 72 days of being stranded, facing extreme cold, hunger, and complex moral dilemmas.

The film provides an uncomfortable viewing experience, offering an overwhelming and anguishing account of a terrible accident. The cumulative visual effects is powerful enough to get you caught in the gut, exposing horror and suffering at different levels while also enhancing the courage and the hope of these brave men with stunning precision and grueling agitation.

The movie's greatest strength lies in its visuals, supported by a nausea-inspiring sense of survivalism that shifts gears into noble acts of kindness, compassion, and collective trust. The plane crash is breathtaking in its technical magnificence, but the emotions, despite numerous close-ups and moments of high tension, ebb and flow.

Having said that, while Society of the Snow may not be a constant nail-biter, there’s enough of an emotional engine driving interest in the story. Magnified by Pedro Luque’s sharp cinematography, this stress-inducing film offers a sensory experience tcapable of accelerating your heartbeat and diverting your mind from minor troubles.

Maestro (2023)

Direction: Bradley Cooper
Country: USA

Directed by and starring Bradley Cooper, Maestro is a well-crafted representation of the enduring marriage between iconic conductor and composer Leonard Bernstein and his actress wife Felicia Montealegre. The film avoids messiness in its timeline, presenting an honest and mature biopic that excels on all fronts.

The story, spanning 30 years, starts with a prologue where Bernstein is filmed and interviewed at home, but the story quickly winds back to his conducting debut with the New York Philharmonic at Carnegie Hall and his rapid rise to fame in 1943. Then, it focuses on the couple and how they changed over the years as he embraces the absolute freedom of the artist, sometimes recklessly. Despite betrayals and jealousy, their love proves to be resilient.

Cooper, who co-wrote with Josh Singer (Spotlight, 2015; First Man, 2018), not only delivers his best directorial work - I wasn’t particularly a fan of A Star is Born (2018) - but also his best performance, creating an extremely empathetic atmosphere that spans a wide range of emotions. Carey Mulligan’s earnest performance, the beauty of black-and-white and pastel-colored visuals by Darren Aronofsky’s regular cinematographer, Matthew Libatique, and the immaculate production, involving talents like Martin Scorsese and Steven Spielberg, contribute to the film's richness and tonal consistency. Maestro stands as a testament to Cooper's directorial and acting prowess.

Priscilla (2023)

Direction: Sofia Copolla
Country: USA

Filmmaker Sofia Coppola has consistently impressed audiences with her unique perspectives and depictions in films like The Virgin Suicides (1999), Lost in Translation (2003), and Marie Antoinette (2006). In her latest work, Priscilla, a biographical drama based on Priscilla Presley’s memoir Elvis and Me, Coppola explores the turbulent journey and controversial relationship between the title character and the king of rock 'n' roll. 

The story begins when 14-year-old Priscilla Beaulieu is invited to a party in Germany and meets 24-year-old Elvis at the peak of his fame during military service. The initial fascination gradually fades over the years, marked by Elvis' aggressive reactions, addiction, and possessively toxic behavior. Priscilla goes from being a teen muse to a discarded wife.

Coppola, with the executive production assistance of Priscilla herself, creates an anti-fairy tale with sophisticated visuals. The film exudes earnest charm, and Cailee Spaeny, in a compelling performance, shines with incandescence. However, Jacob Elordi's portrayal of Elvis is unconvincing. While the film may lack a substantial plot or astounding revelations, and its tone becomes somewhat static, it is a gutsy, can’t-look-away work that captures the emptiness of a crumbling relationship.

Priscilla, painted with a filter of candor and maintaining its drive and passion, ultimately comes together nicely, more in the form of a dramatic whisper than a shout of affirmation.

Napoleon (2023)

Direction: Ridley Scott
Country: USA 

Ridley Scott's Napoleon attempts to capture both the epic military achievements and personal relationships of one of history's most powerful figures, starring Joaquin Phoenix as the French emperor and Vanessa Kirby as Empress Josephine. Known for his prowess in historical dramas, Scott's latest endeavor falls short in grasping the complexity of Napoleon's rise and fall.

The film delves into the events that shaped Napoleon's trajectory, offering a reductive, almost anecdotal vision of his life. While the rough combat scenes stand out as the film's most attractive aspect - the bloody battles against the Russians are potentiated by gloomy undertones and Martin Phipps’ tenebrous score - the overall narrative comes across as disjointed and superficial. 

Even cinematically rewarding in terms of carefully framed shots (the evocative cinematography is by Dariusz Wolski), what we experience is lifelessness. Phoenix's portrayal of Napoleon oscillates between bravery and vulnerability, mirroring the film's own conflicted nature. The lack of a personal perspective also prevents the film from delving into something bolder. 

To make matters worse, Phoenix and Kirby have no chemistry, and the film's energy fizzles out before reaching its conclusion. Abel Gance successfully tackled Napoleon's story in 1927, but Scott's adaptation is another missed opportunity to explore the complexities of France's most significant military commander and historical ruler.

Kidnapped (2023)

Direction: Marco Bellocchio
Country: Italy

From Marco Bellocchio, the director of Fists in the Pocket (1965), Vincere (2009), and The Traitor (2019), comes Kidnapped, an exposé of a period in history when the Church wielded moral violence without responsibility or accountability to any authority.  In this film, Bellocchio, without exceptional brilliance but with the socio-political edge that characterizes his works, portrays the true story of Edgardo Mortara (Enea Sala), a six-year-old Jewish boy who was forcibly taken from his family by Pope Pius IX (Paolo Pierobon) after rumors of a secret baptism. The film is set in 1858, and Edgardo's parents, Momolo (Fausto Russo Alesi) and Marianna (Barbara Ronchi), wage an inglorious battle to reclaim him. Even with the scandal of several such abductions becoming public and Rome being liberated, it's difficult to erase a lifetime of brainwashing. 

There isn’t a moment that is not watchable but those moments could have added much more to the whole if better planned and executed. Despite needing a darker ambiance and more polished dialogue, the film is visually striking and well scored by the dramatic sounds of Fabio Massimo Capogrosso.

Kidnapped may require some patience from the audience as not offers a narrative that only dazzles intermittently. It’s a film centered on unanswered prayers, life-altering religious conversions, and soul-damaging submissions and humiliations, once again placing the Catholic Church at the center of criticism. Despite the formless ramble of its structure and the emotional distance that impairs some its scenes, the film tackles an interesting topic and features reasonably solid performances.

Rheingold (2023)

Direction: Fatih Akin
Country: Germany 

While German writer-director Fatih Akin’s early films, such as Head-On (2004) and The Edge of Heaven (2007), are compelling choices, Rheingold - a tale of immigration, violence, and music based on the biography of German rapper Xatar - falls short of the mark. The movie chronicles the journey of Giwar Hajabi (Emilio Sakraya), a young Kurdish-Iranian immigrant who turns to a life of crime and drug trafficking before gaining notoriety as a music artist while incarcerated. However, both the segments portraying the street gangster and the musician prisoner prove to be tedious and unengaging.

Spanning 30 years, the narrative initially sparks interest but gradually loses its grip by resorting to standardized routines often seen in gangster action dramas. Rheingold struggles to offer moments that feel particularly original or inspired. The film is marred by a messy structure, lackluster storytelling, choppy editing, and dull action sequences. Frankly not likable, it lacks the excitement needed to leave a lasting impression. 

In summary, this amalgamation of gangsta-rap and gangland themes is a soulless misfire from a director we know capable of delivering better.

Dumb Money (2023)

Direction: Craig Gillespie
Country: USA

This biographical comedy-drama depicting the stock short squeeze of video game retailer GameStop in January 2021 leans more towards being laughably tame than audaciously bold. Directed by Craig Gillespie (Lars and the Real Girl, 2007; I, Tonya, 2017) and written by Lauren Schuker Blum and Rebecca Angelo, the film represents a feeble adaptation of Ben Mezrich's book, The Antisocial Network.

Although it’s an ensemble cast that populates the screen, Paul Dano (There Will Be Blood, 2007; Love & Mercy, 2014) takes central stage as Keith Gill, a modest financial analyst and YouTuber operating under the moniker Roaring Kitty. Those who followed Gill's strategies had the potential to amass an unimaginable amount of money in the unpredictable game dictated by the stock market's ebbs and flows. Personal decisions played a pivotal role.

Had the filmmaker dared to dip below the surface, and maybe we would have a better film. Dumb Money fails to adequately develop its characters, making them feel unrelatable and causing the narrative to drag. What are audiences supposed to do with this, anyway? In the midst of the constant buzz surrounding the stock market, Gillespie's film struggles to find its footing. 

His work fails to get under your skin because it's content with poking you in the eye. The material offered the potential to create something thought-provoking and didactic, but he squandered the chance by allowing an invertebrate scenario. Hence, there’s no need to go to the movie theater to measure the extent of the damage because what the film tells you in 104 minutes could be absorbed from reading a brief paragraph.

El Conde (2023)

Direction: Pablo Larraín
Country: Chile

Acclaimed Chilean director Pablo Larraín continues in biopic mode with El Conde, a film centered around Chilean dictator Augusto Pinochet, following cinematic idiosyncrasies such as Jackie (2016, about Jackeline Kennedy), Neruda (2016, about Pablo Neruda), and Spencer (2021, about Lady Diana). This time, Larraín ventures deep into surrealism, transforming Pinochet into a 250-year-old vampire in a fable that is both somber and facetious. 

Drawing from German Expressionism (Nosferatu and Vampyr are references) as well as absurdism, the director creates a sinister black-and-white world of fantasy to denounce real sinners and their indelible sins from the past. A mysterious British woman, whose identity is revealed by the end to our surprise, narrates the story of Pinochet (Jaime Vadell), a mediocre royalist French soldier turned oppressive commander and vampire. Years after committing atrocities, he now seeks death. His wife, Lucia (Gloria Münchmeyer), betrays him with his loyal slave and master of torture, Fyodor (Alfredo Castro), who is also a vampire. The scenario is further complicated with the arrival of his five greedy children, and Carmen (Paula Luchsinger is phenomenal), a sweet and sly nun disguised as an accountant and secretly assigned to exorcise him from evil. Unexpectedly, in love, the weak count just needs fresh blood (or a human heart smoothie) from young people to rejuvenate. He no longer wants to die.

Equipped with daring shots, classical arias, religious chants, and a fair dose of madness, the ultra-hype El Conde is delirious and violent. It’s carried out with audacity and virtuosity, showcasing the filmmaker’s mastery of his art. The film is far from making a fully formed organic statement, but that wasn’t Larraín’s intention. Fearless of the result, he focused on satirizing with imagination and scathing black humor, metaphorically condemning the man while also providing entertaining.

Cassandro (2023)

Direction: Roger Ross Williams
Country: USA

The empathetic autobiographical drama Cassandro delves into the true story of Saul Armendáriz, a gay amateur wrestler from El Paso who, in the early 1980’s, catapulted from anonymity to fame after creating the ‘Exótico' character that lends the film its title. Directed by Roger Ross Williams, known for documentaries  such as God Loves Uganda, Life Animated, and The Apollo, and co-written with David Teague, this rare hybrid soars more than it lumbers, brimming with insight and cinematic flair. It marks the director’s narrative debut feature.

The plot offers an intimate look at Saul’s dreams, struggles, and life - the breathlessness of a young, creative fighter seeking for recognition and the adult realization that life, no matter its accomplishments, is not without hardships. The protagonist, competently portrayed by Gael Garcia Bernal, lives with his loving mother and true inspiration, Yocasta (Perla de la Rosa). He also maintains a secret yet frustrating relationship with a married wrestler (Raúl Castillo), and unsuccessfully tries to cope with the emptiness left by an absent father who suddenly vanished after he came out at the age of 15. Occasional flashbacks peek into the characters’ past without succumbing to melodramatic trappings.

Provocative without being excessively flamboyant, Cassandro is endowed with remarkable performances, underlining themes of freedom, courage, and ambition in most scenes; it offers an engrossing exploration of Saul’s duality in life. For the way it was done, it doesn’t necessarily beg for attention, but it certainly earns it.

The Bohemian (2023)

Direction: Petr Václav
Country: Czech Republic / Italy / Slovakia 

Eight years after dedicating a documentary to Josef Myslivecek, the talented Czech director Petr Václav unleashes his imagination by crafting a full-length fictional biopic about this Prague-born composer whose operas influenced the young Mozart and earned acclaim in 18-century Italy. Despite this, he lived penniless throughout his life and was quickly forgotten.

The story, constructed as a long flashback, covers his life and work in Italy. There’s a curious prologue that portrays the disfigured composer (Vojtěch Dyk) struggling to survive in 1971 Rome. The narrative winds back to 1765 Venice, when he declined to marry a wealthy cello student to pursue a scalding relationship with a hedonistic aristocrat (Elena Radonicich ) who manages to put him in contact with the most celebrated opera singer of that time, the moody Caterina Gabrielle (Barbara Ronchi). His career takes off in Naples, and eventually leading him to Bologna, where he reunites with the love of his life, Baroness Anna Fracassati (Lana Vladi). But this woman is held captive by a violent and jealous husband. In Padua, syphilis gets him disfigured, and he departs to Rome later for a cold, futile musical reunion with Gabrielli.  

Classical music and carnal pleasure go hand in hand in a film that captures the charm and the vulgarity of the eccentric artistic society of that era. Humor is often present but the film is not devoid of disturbing moments. Václav portrays all of this marvelously, and his grandiose ambition is rewarded with beautifully composed shots, impressive lighting techniques, detailed settings, and an elegant costume design. Yet, by always placing the characters at the forefront, there’s a bittersweet, mundane flavor that thwarts any artsy pretension. 

Even with some deviations from historical truth, the director provides a fair view of the artist and his personality, in a ballsy move that avoids the pitfalls of academicism and period dramas.

The Lost King (2023)

Direction: Stephen Frears
Country: UK 

Although historically interesting, The Lost King is academic in many aspects, which is upsetting since it comes from Stephen Frears, an experienced director whose major works include Philomena (2013), The Queen (2006), Dirty Pretty Things (2002), and Dangerous Liaisons (1988). Stumbling in a faulty staging, this classically crafted film inspired by an incredible true story, tries too hard to please the audience, but it shrieks as it aims for that middle bar that pushes everything into comedic context. 

This is the story of Philippa Langley (Sally Hawkins), a mother of two with chronic fatigue syndrome whose determination and subjective intuition lead her to the spot where the cursed King Richard III was buried. His body had never been found since his disappearance in the Battle of Bosworth Field in 1485. Guided by passion and obsession, and having fleeting dialogues with the ghost of the king (Harry Lloyd) while roaming through the streets of Edinburgh, she succeeded where many have failed.

Steve Coogan, who also stars as the protagonist’s supportive ex-husband, co-wrote this infinitely modest autobiographical drama with Jeff Pope, never missing an opportunity to adorn the situations with a dash of British humor. 

The dragging first half makes it harder for us to fully enjoy what comes next, and by the time the story reaches its climax, all my excitement has been drained away. All those cynical opportunists, tough sponsors, and difficult excavations don’t emanate enough tension, with Frears struggling to give a consistent rhythm to the storytelling as well as to find a distinctive style. One of those cases where the tedium outweighed the anticipation.

Oppenheimer (2023)

Direction: Christopher Nolan
Country: USA 

Oppenheimer marks the sixth collaboration between the singularly original writer-director Christopher Nolan and the Irish actor Cillian Murphy, who, given the leading role here, works diligently under the guise of the physicist who created the atomic bomb, J. Robert Oppenheimer. Populated with lightning-fast dialogues, oppressive music and artificial tension, the film differs from Nolan’s previous moves as there’s no emphasis on action. In a way, the type of narrative adopted by Nolan curbs the inventiveness that made Memento, Inception and Dunkirk instant classics.

As a cerebral biopic, it tries to get our attention through scientific fascination, political repression, international espionage, and the moral dilemma faced by the title character, who struggles with his own creation: a massive weapon that poses an existential threat to the humankind. Oppenheimer’s guilt is well expressed, as well as the cynicism of some of his associates, like Dr. Lewis Strauss (Robert Downey Jr. is excellent) and Edward Teller (Benny Safdie). Even president Truman (Gary Oldman) disregarded his torment and did nothing to prevent his political persecution. 

It’s an interesting, if formal, film that manages to captivate intermittently. Shot statically in black-and-white and color, it follows a transparent narrative strategy, being structured as a series of slow-moving scenes that require you to dive into meticulous dialogue with tenacity. On one side it’s an opportunity to get a history lesson on the matter, but the film only really shines on a few scattered powerful moments. It all came up more informative than fun.

Chevalier (2023)

Direction: Stephen Williams
Country: UK

Acted and directed with poised energy, Chevalier is a biopic that chronicles the rise to fame and fall into oblivion of Guadeloupe-born mulatto Joseph Bologne (Kelvin Harrison Jr.), a brilliant violinist, conductor, composer, and swordsman who once embarrassed Mozart on stage, defeated all his fencing opponents, and fell in love with an unhappily married marquise (Samara Weaving) with a singing talent.

More often than not, this watchable drama film is expository of the racial discrimination lived in 18th-century France ruled by Marie Antoinette (Lucy Boynton) and marked by an arrogant aristocracy. The film exposes Bologne’s gifts, which made him chevalier of Saint-George, but also his constant struggles and personal ambition to conduct the Paris Opera, the highest musical position in France. 

Steeped in rich colored costumes and passionate emotions, the film - directed by Stephen Williams from a screenplay by Stefani Robinson - achieves a delicate osmosis between commercial film and auteur cinema. It’s a mature exploration of a big theme, hampered only by its simplified, conventional storytelling. Although this account deserves to be told - the past keeps looking at the present, in tatters - you can see where it goes from miles away. Yet, the actors never curtsies to caricature, and the film is worth seeing just for knowledge of its character and his moment in history. Pianist Kris Bowers, who also scored Green Book (2018) and King Richard (2021), penned the music.

Padre Pio (2023)

Direction: Abel Ferrara
Country: Italy / Germany

Padre Pio, a German-Italian production directed by the peculiar Abel Ferrara (Bad Lieutenant, 1992; The Funeral, 1996; Tommaso, 2019), is a joyless, graceless faith-related drama that straddles between esoteric turmoil and political activism. Over the course of this biopic, the focus scatters into many directions, the handheld camera makes you dizzy, and the excitement is limited. 

Despite obstacles, the darkness of the era (the story is set at the end of World War I) is well portrayed and Shia LaBeouf ’s performance is positive. The most striking parts of the movie are those in which Pio, who had arrived at a Capuchin monastery in the poor city of San Giovanni Rotondo, opens up with his God. Suffering tremendously with what he sees (greed and slavery are devouring the town) and with what he hears (some confessions are nauseatingly perverse), he is often attacked by the devil himself. Still, he refuses to abandon hope.

The fearless Ferrara tries to tackle this fascinating character but loses traction in a film that, asking the right questions, never finds dramatically persuasive answers. There’s not enough zest to the storytelling, which rather moves bluntly between demonic horror and somber spectacle. Choppy, unpolished and undeveloped, Padre Pio will certainly divide audiences.

Reality (2023)

Direction: Tina Satter
Country: USA 

Previously staged as an Off Broadway play with the title Is This a Room, Reality puts the focus on a real episode involving Reality Winner, a former member of the United States Air Force, a Farsi translator, and a yoga and CrossFit instructor whose home in Augusta, Georgia, was searched by the FBI on June 3, 2017. A warrant was issued on the basis of mishandling of classified information. 

Winner, compellingly embodied by Sydney Sweeney (Nocturne, 2020), had leaked an intelligence report on Russian interference in the 2016 US election. The two agents that approached her, Taylor (Marchánt Davis) and Garrick (Josh Hamilton), conducted a tense interrogation, but also created wry humor on several occasions - the scene involving the unlocking of Winner's cellphone is hilarious. The story moves forward in static bursts that are contained by the simple, unobtrusive direction of Tina Satter. She signs her debut feature film with promises of future quality work. 

Reality is well-made but depends almost entirely on the acting. And neither the lead nor the supporting actors let it down, providing merciless authenticity through crisp performances. The hard part is to realize that the truth is not what matters here. Winner spent four years in jail and remains under tight vigilance until November 2024. The Senate used the document leaked as evidence of Russian interference. Where does patriotism lie?

Blackberry (2023)

Direction: Matt Johnson
Country: USA 

BlackBerry is a well-told true story about the meteoric rise and precipitous fall of the Canadian brand that brought the first smartphone into the world. Director Matt Johnson, whose staple is also starring in his own films (The Dirties, 2013; Operation Avalanche, 2016), assembles a gripping biographical tech-thriller with refreshingly witty passages and character-driven fortitude as its most entertaining values.

Mike Lazaridis (Jay Baruchel), a brilliant if shy software developer, and his more confrontational business partner and best friend, Doug Fregin (Johnson), hire the ambitious entrepreneur Jim Balsille (Glenn Howerton in his best) for their company Research in Motion. The latter is an aggressive negotiator who may grab you by the throat and beat you about the head without ever lifting his feet from the desk. Intense and fast-moving, this thriller portraits their high demands for data as a matter of life and death. 

Even if you’re not tech savvy, Johnson puts it all in fascinating context. Aiming for greatness and not quite making it, he, nonetheless, discloses a vital, engaging part of technology history while guaranteeing absolute fun by effectively mixing serious and comedic tones. The rules of this tech business game are questioned in a last part tinged with bitterness. The acting, staging, editing, soundtrack, and direction are handled with competence.

Lord of the Ants (2022)

Direction: Gianni Amelio
Country: Italy

With Lord of the Ants, Italian director Gianni Amelio is far from his glory days, built on the basis of films such as Lamerica (1994) and Il Ladro di Bambini (1992). His newest effort is a biopic of the Italian poet, playwright and director Aldo Braibanti, who was jailed in 1968 due to a Fascist-era anti-gay law. He was sentenced to nine years in prison on charges of duress against an 18-year-old student who would become the love of his life. 

The cast is not outstanding, apart from Luigi Lo Cascio (he made his debut in 2000 with Tullio Giordana’s One Hundred Steps) who plays the title character with intellectual superiority. The relationships between the characters seem contrived or detached from emotion in a somewhat cold, chewy film that doesn’t get better with time, not even when the camera is turned to a courtroom. 

Amelio simply chronicles the facts and lets naivety take control of things. The dialogue goes from philosophical and poetic to sloppy and banal, while the characters don’t pull enough truth from a story that really happened but surely with a lot more intensity than it’s presented here. Lamentably, Lord of the Ants, even demonstrating solid values at its core, loses its voice to torpidity.