Review by Sean Boelman
Pablo Larraín is one of the highest-profile Latin American filmmakers working today, so when he attaches himself to a project as a producer, you know you’re in for something special. The Larraín-produced Sorcery, directed by Christopher Murray, is undeniably one of the most visually striking films in the Sundance lineup this year, overcoming an occasionally ineffective script with arresting imagery.
The movie follows a young girl who, after the brutal murder of her father, seeks refuge in an Indigenous community where she learns the art of witchcraft, only for the local colonial authorities to retaliate violently. Murray has created a fascinating coming-of-age story against the backdrop of a unique portion of Latin American history, but he struggles to find a balance between convention and individuality. Sorcery is very much a slow burn, but it’s atmospheric in a way that creeps under your skin. After an opening scene that is equal parts truly horrifying and absolutely devastating, the movie turns into something that is much more character-driven. That being said, there are a few points in which it begins to feel as if the narrative is simply spinning its wheels. The most interesting part of the film is the bond that forms between the protagonist and the father-like figure she finds in the witchcraft-practicing Indigenous community. While a few of the beats throughout this storyline are somewhat conventional, it has the emotional resonance to be quite effective. Murray and Pablo Paredes’s script contains some obvious anti-colonialist themes, but one will almost wish that they had done more with them. It’s clear that, while there are supernatural forces in play, the real threat are the people. It just would have been nice to see a harder stance taken against those wrong-doers. Still, what the movie doesn’t have in strong writing, it makes up for with astounding visuals. María Secco’s cinematography is absolutely gorgeous, bringing Bernardita Baeza’s immersive production design to life beautifully. It’s a small story told in a very expansive way, which makes it resonate better than it otherwise would. The film also boasts some very strong performances, especially from its young lead, Valentina Véliz Caileo. Her performance is extremely nuanced in a way that is far beyond her years, full of quiet emotion. Daniel Antivilo complements her quite well, having quite a few moments that allow him to flex his commanding screen presence. Sorcery has some pretty noticeable issues with its script, yet the movie manages to stick with you long after the credits roll. Combine that with cinematography that is sure to be some of the year’s finest, and it would be a shame to miss this one. Sorcery is playing at the 2023 Sundance Film Festival, which runs January 19-29 in-person in Park City, UT and January 24-29 online. Rating: 3.5/5
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Review by Josh Batchelder, Josh at the Movies
What is scarier to the mind than contemplating our own existence after we die? Many films have covered this topic, often coming away with hopeful scenarios. The cynical, horrifying afterlife of Talk to Me posits a decidedly different thesis. Spirits seem to exist in another realm, swirling in confusion until they are pulled out of it to appease the whims of the living. Talk to Me centers on angsty teenagers making bad decisions, unafraid of the damage they can potentially cause. It’s all fun and games until it’s not. The bleak reality of this film took me aback and left me with a dreary sense of unease that I have been unable to shake since it concluded.
A viral Snapchat video has everyone at school talking. Seeming to portray a spiritual possession, the question remains of its authenticity. Mia (Sophie Wilde) is just trying to do anything to get her mind off the second annual Remembrance Day for her deceased mother. It has been a tough couple of years for her, and the only bright spot is her friendship with her bestie Jade (Alexandra Jensen) and Jade’s picture-perfect family. Lately, though, Jade has been distracted by her obsession with religious goody two-shoes Daniel (Otis Dhanji), who also happens to be Mia’s ex. To pass the time, Mia suggests they attend a spiritual conjuring to see whether or not these alleged possessions are the real deal. Along for the ride is Jade’s thirteen-year-old brother, Riley (Joe Bird), which undoubtedly seems problematic well before anything troublesome actually occurs. A brief setup establishes the rules. A candle is lit to “open the door” to the spirit world and must be blown out to close it. A ceramic-covered embalmed hand imbued with innumerable symbols must be held tightly. One must utter “talk to me” to see the spirit of the dead, and “let me in” is the phrase that instigates the possession. They can never surpass ninety seconds within the host body, or the spirit may cling to their person permanently. The first time Mia experiences this phenomenon, everything about it feels dangerous, but it becomes almost seductive to Mia. Her friend group makes it into a game, taking turns being tied down and allowing their bodies to be invaded by ghostly spirits. These antics never feel innocent in any way. From the first time Mia sees the ghastly figure of a dead, bloated woman, directors Michael and Danny Philippou firmly establish that the spirit realm is not to be trifled with. Eventually, Talk to Me does visualize a graphic display of brutality that shocks and awes. For the rest of the runtime, Mia and friends are forced to come to terms with the consequences of their dangerous game. It is difficult to have sympathy for Mia, but she is also acting out based solely on her continued trauma from her mother’s accidental overdose of sleep meds. Her actions are never justified, merely skirting by on the basis that young, stupid people do young, stupid things. Those on the hunt for relentless bloodshed should look elsewhere; Talk to Me is more intimate character study than chaotic gorefest. For better or worse, Mia is the centerpiece of that study. If Jade’s family is her one happy place, why does she allow anything to come in the way of this relationship? Fracturing the only thing keeping her centered certainly seems like a bad idea, even if unintentionally executed. Romance could still exist between Mia and Daniel, her childhood sweetheart, but why even stoke the flames of this potential union knowing one’s best friend has yet even to kiss him? Conflicted scenarios rush through Mia’s mind, and Sophie Wilde delivers a nuanced performance covering all the complexities. A full-circle ending doubles down on the cyclical terror of death itself. While Talk to Me isn’t quite tuned in to modern culture as much as it may think (does anyone really use Snapchat anymore?), the script from Danny Philippou and Bill Hinzman is surprisingly quite sharp. These teenagers feel authentic in their language and attitudes, and Sophie Wilde, in particular, emerges as the film’s MVP. A sophisticated sense of style and a pure understanding of the larger themes prove that the horror renaissance of the 2020s is here to stay. One can only hope that the future is not as grim as this unparalleled directorial debut depicts. Talk to Me screened at 2022’s Sundance Film Festival.
Review by Sean Boelman
International horror is always fascinating to watch, because it’s intriguing to see how different cultures define what they think is “scary.” The Indian independent horror film The Underbug doesn’t have the jump scares, gore, or even the low-concept character-driven horror American audiences expect, but it creates an atmosphere that is uniquely arresting.
The film follows two rioters who take refuge in an abandoned house, only to discover that they might not be alone — with a mysterious presence pushing them to the edge of their sanity. Of course, this threat is more metaphorical than anything else, but the film manages to be genuinely unsettling nonetheless. Perhaps the most impressive thing that director Shujaat Saudagar is able to accomplish is the creation of an atmosphere that is absolutely dread-inducing. It’s a supernatural horror film, but given the low budget, Saudagar wisely frames it in a more psychological way, almost tricking the audience into feeling disturbed. Clocking in at just over an hour, the film manages to do quite a bit in very little time. It starts off as a slow burn, creeping its way under your skin, and the atmospheric filmmaking does a lot of the heavy lifting. But once the conflict between the two characters begins, it’s an absolute rollercoaster, with moments of false security giving way to an unnerving sense of paranoia. There is clearly a very dense social and historical context to the film, and while American audiences are unlikely to be familiar with the intricacies of the issues being commented on, it’s hard not to respect the writers for taking such a big swing. The questions that are asked by the film are certainly interesting, even if it will be hard for many viewers to answer them. Perhaps that added context would have given a bit more background to the characters, but there’s still enough here for audiences to pick up on the basic Sartre-esque “hate is the real enemy” message. However, for a psychological horror, we know unexpectedly little about these characters to be able to get inside their heads. The two actors — Ali Fazal and Hussain Dalal — both do a very solid job in their roles. The success of this film very much hinges on the two performances, as they determine whether or not the audience believes the suffering the characters experience. Thankfully, Falzal and Dalal do a good job of antagonizing each other without ever feeling like they are being unapproachably hostile. The Underbug succeeds as a horror film because it manages to be rather disturbing despite the fact that many won’t understand its social and historical context. While it will probably resonate more for those who are more familiar with Indian culture and society, Shujaat Saudagar has made a film that will make viewers across the board feel undeniably uneasy. The Underbug is playing as part of the 2023 Slamdance Film Festival, which runs in-person in Park City, UT from January 20-26 and online from January 23-29. Rating: 4/5
Review by Sean Boelman
These days, it’s hard to find a film that does something that has never been done before — or at least has hardly been done — and the Lithuanian movie Slow is the one-in-a-million film that does. A lovely movie boasting historically great representation, this is a film that scholars of queer cinema will be appreciating for years to come.
The film follows a dancer and a sign language interpreter who form an unexpected connection, developing a unique kind of bond and intimacy when he reveals his asexuality. It’s a very low-key romance, the likes of which we have seen in worldwide cinema for years, but with a wonderfully refreshing perspective. The main quality that makes this movie stand out is the enormously authentic way in which it depicts asexuality. Unlike a lot of previous representations, which tend to show asexuality not as a sexual orientation but the lack thereof, Kavtaradze’s script shows the complexity of the emotions an asexual person experiences. As such, this film is a monumental stride for LGBTQIA+ representation. Of course, it isn’t perfect, but few groundbreakers are. The characters — particularly the allosexual love interest — make some decisions that are extremely frustrating. And the movie does sometimes begin to fall into slightly melodramatic trappings, most noticeably during the third act, in which a few scenes do feel somewhat forced for the sake of pushing the story forward. Still, the film manages to be an extraordinarily compelling romance. The first hour or so, which focuses on the courtship and budding love between the characters, is absolutely adorable. When things begin to become more complicated — as they always must in a romance, or else the conflict isn’t there — it’s reliably heartbreaking. Greta Grineviciute and Kestutis Cicenas have tremendous chemistry together, which is impressive considering that they are convincing despite the removal of sexual tension from the equation. Instead, they have to convince us of a deeper love, transcending physicality into something more purely emotional. From a technical level, Kavtaradze’s style is very polished, elevating this even further beyond the basics of the genre. The way in which Kavtaradze creates intimacy without sex is virtually unprecedented, using small gestures of affection and body language to beautifully communicate the emotion of the story. Slow gets a lot of points if only because its themes are so revolutionary, but what makes it truly amazing is that it’s a beautiful movie even beyond that. Marija Kavtaradze has made a fantastic romance that deserves to become a part of LGBTQIA+ film canon. Slow is playing at the 2023 Sundance Film Festival, which runs January 19-29 in-person in Park City, UT and January 24-29 online. Rating: 4.5/5
Review by Sean Boelman
The Slamdance Film Festival is known as a launching pad for films that bust the confines of conventions, and Law Chen’s Starring Jerry as Himself is certainly pretty unique. Telling a quaint story with an epic sense of scale, this is one of the most innovative independent documentaries in recent memory.
The movie follows a family whose immigrant father, a retired Florida man, believes he was recruited by the Chinese police to be an undercover agent. It’s very much a “Florida Man” story — a tale that’s downright bizarre and yet just enough within the realm of reason to be believable. Reminiscent of Dick Johnson is Dead in a way, the film blends elements of truth and fiction in a way that the lines of what it means to be a documentary. However, this approach is absolutely perfect for this story given that it is all about fantasy and losing one’s grip on reality. It also gives the movie an awesome, action-packed pace that few documentaries manage to really succeed in. This is a heavily independent production, meaning that the re-enactments don’t quite have the same level of production value as some bigger-budget documentaries, but the vision is strong with this one. They make the most of what they have, managing to create an immersive world representing Jerry’s mind.
There’s certainly an aspect of tongue-in-cheek humor to the film as the audience is cued into the fact that much of what is being shown on screen is not reality. At times, it can start to be a bit concerning — as it almost comes across as the audience laughing at Jerry — but Jerry is so lovable that it avoids this.
That being said, the movie still has a great deal of empathy for its subject. Chen clearly understands the absurdity of the situation he has been tasked with documenting, but he also recognizes the tragedy at its core. It’s stranger-than-fiction, but this is also somebody’s life who was completely devastated. If the film does mess anything up, it is not taking a hard enough stance against the people who victimized the eponymous retiree. On-screen text at the end of the movie reminds viewers that scams like these take thousands of elderly people as their prey every year and have the potential to ruin lives. But throughout the film, it doesn’t feel as if these stakes are adequately communicated. Starring Jerry as Himself is an impressive work of documentary filmmaking, blending nonfiction and fantasy in a thoroughly effective way. Audiences will absolutely fall in love with Jerry Hsu and be captivated by his insane story. Starring Jerry as Himself is playing as part of the 2023 Slamdance Film Festival, which runs in-person in Park City, UT from January 20-26 and online from January 23-29. Rating: 4.5/5
Review by Sean Boelman
It’s always exciting to see a new discovery on the festival circuit, and A Perfect Day for Caribou writer-director Jeff Rutherford is a talented new voice. Indie through-and-through, his feature debut benefits from some strong performances, a solid script, and a simple yet effective style — making it a compelling entry in this year’s Slamdance narrative lineup.
The film follows an estranged father and son who spend their day wandering around the landscape, searching for family and connecting in a way that they hadn’t in years. This is very much a standard festival drama, with lots of metaphor-heavy dialogue and very low-key production values. Admittedly, the movie’s pacing is glacial — with the film consisting largely of two people talking, with several sections where a person is just speaking to a recorder. That being said, Rutherford’s dialogue is extremely sharp and poignant in a way that manages to make it captivating despite moving slowly. The movie deals with several complex themes like mortality and parenthood. The topics that Rutherford discusses may not be particularly original, but he approaches them with such empathy and honesty that they manage to feel insightful and ring consistently true. And thankfully, the dialogue doesn’t feel overly pretentious or preachy with it.
Jeb Berrier is absolutely extraordinary as the lead of the film. His performance has so much unexpected nuance. Charlie Plummer is the co-lead, and while it’s surprising to see him in a low-key movie like this after a string of more mainstream roles, his chemistry with Berrier is strong and really drives the narrative.
The film’s emotion largely centers around the dynamic between the two characters. Although it is a bit of a conventional dysfunctional family relationship in terms of its conflict, the performances and writing elevate it beyond its core beats into something genuinely special. Rutherford also manages to avoid the traditional melodramatic trappings of the genre. In the tradition of many great micro-budget dramas, Rutherford and cinematographer Alfonso Herrera Salcedo shoot the movie in crisp black-and-white cinematography. Although practicality may have been a big part of this decision, monochrome also lends the film a feeling reminiscent of a Western in the best ways Although some viewers may be put off by the slow, talky nature of A Perfect Day for Caribou, Jeff Rutherford has managed to create something poetic and moving. As Rutherford’s feature debut, this movie shows that he will be a huge deal on the indie scene one day. A Perfect Day for Caribou is playing as part of the 2023 Slamdance Film Festival, which runs in-person in Park City, UT from January 20-26 and online from January 23-29. Rating: 4/5
Review by Sean Boelman
There are hundreds of films about a protagonist going through a sexual awakening, but it’s unlikely that you’ve ever seen one quite like MAMACRUZ. An honest, often very funny portrait of sexuality from a unique perspective, Patricia Ortega’s dramedy might have some aspects that feel underdeveloped, but the concept is certainly one that is interesting.
The movie follows an older, conservative Christian woman who finds herself at odds with her faith when she accidentally discovers internet pornography. There are several directions in which this story could have gone — a farcical comedy, a bleak religious drama — but what we get from Patricia Ortega is something altogether different. It’s certainly refreshing to see a film about a sexual awakening that does not present itself in a traditional way. Most sexual awakening movies are told from the perspective of someone who is stereotypically “sexual” — teenagers, young adults, even sometimes through a midlife crisis — but it’s nice to see a film about the generally taboo issue of sexuality in older people. There’s obviously something inherently humorous about watching a 60+ year old woman stumbling her way through porn sites, but the movie never feels like we are laughing at the protagonist. Instead, it feels like what we are watching is a very universal experience, and it’s quite endearing as such.
Unfortunately, much of the character work in the film feels underdeveloped. While Cruz is likable, little background is given to inform her motivations. We see glimpses of her relationship with her husband and daughter, but they are very superficial and do little more than show us her general discontentment with her life. It feels like, outside of her sexual awakening, there is little to make Cruz an interesting character that we want to follow.
Still, actress Kiti Mánver (who has over 120 credits to her name) gives a performance that, in any filmography, would be considered a crowning achievement. She approaches the role in a way that is not too serious to lose its sense of humor, but also with enough sincerity for it to feel entirely authentic. The most interesting part of the movie — at least from a technical standpoint — is Fran Fernández Pardo’s cinematography. This is obviously very intimate subject matter, and the shooting style matches that intimacy. Ortega has an interesting vision of Cruz’s world — a generally muted and mundane suburbia infused with momentary flashes of color and brightness. MAMACRUZ might not succeed in exploring all of the themes it sets out to explore, but it is at least admirable for doing something that few films have dared to do in the past. Couple that with an insanely strong performance from Kiti Mánver, and it’s a mostly compelling dramedy. MAMACRUZ is playing at the 2023 Sundance Film Festival, which runs January 19-29 in-person in Park City, UT and January 24-29 online. Rating: 3.5/5 [Slamdance 2023] PUNK ROCK VEGAN MOVIE -- Moby's Preachy but Entertaining Argument for Animal Rights1/20/2023
Review by Sean Boelman
Love him or hate him, there’s one thing that you have to admire about the electronic musician Moby: his passion and commitment to what he believes in. Although it is unlikely that it will convert any new members to the cause, Moby’s directorial debut Punk Rock Vegan Movie is a mostly entertaining and informative documentary.
In the film, Moby explores the relationship between punk rock and vegan activism, and how some of the early punk rock musicians were pioneers in fighting for animal rights. At times, the film does feel like a PSA more than an actual documentary, but the number of recognizable faces involved keeps things entertaining. Everyone knows that Moby is one of the music industry’s most outspoken animal rights activists, so it comes as no surprise that he made a documentary about the history of veganism in the music industry. However, his choice to insert himself so strongly into the narrative rather than letting his interview subjects speak for themselves is somewhat frustrating. Of course, anyone who knows Moby as a musician would expect the film to be pretty quirky and relentlessly independent, for better or worse. A clumsy framing device features skits like Moby explaining the concept of veganism and the history of punk rock to his dog or Moby playing the devil in a newscast interview. While these bits are undeniably well-intentioned, they come off as cringe-worthy rather than effective.
The film also suffers from all-around less-than-stellar technical aspects. It’s surprising that, with his connections, Moby didn't attempt to get bigger financing for this project. Although the message is good, the poor, low-budget looking cinematography doesn’t lend the message the feeling of legitimacy it deserves.
Moby does build some significant credibility by featuring interviews with plenty of prominent names in the punk rock scene, including Dave Navarro, Doyle Wolfgang von Frankenstein, and more. It’s likely a combination of personal favors and their passion for the project that allowed Moby to convince some of these high-profile musicians to lend their profile to the documentary, but it does make the film a more exciting watch for music aficionados. The soundtrack is made up of a combination of punk music and Moby’s own work. What is surprising is how much the film does actually go into the music side of this story, exploring how themes of activism were heavily present in some of the most iconic punk rock songs during the genre’s golden age. Punk Rock Vegan Movie doesn’t may not be the animal rights anthem that Moby hopes it will be, but it’s still entertaining nonetheless. In true Moby and punk rock fashion, the documentary will be released for viewers for free streaming later this month, so hopefully that will allow him to get his message out there. Punk Rock Vegan Movie is playing as part of the 2023 Slamdance Film Festival, which runs in-person in Park City, UT from January 20-26 and online from January 23-29. Rating: 3.5/5
Review by Sean Boelman
Last year, one of the films to make a huge splash at the Sundance Film Festival was Navalny, a movie which was extraordinarily urgent considering the then-just-about-to-start Russian invasion of Ukraine. A year later, this topic is still relevant, and journalist/filmmaker Mstyslav Chernov’s documentary 20 Days in Mariupol offers what may end up being the definitive version of this story.
The film tells the story of a team of Ukrainian journalists who set out to cover the Russian invasion of the port city Mariupol, only to find themselves trapped as Russian forces surround the city. Made up of footage shot by several AP journalists, this offers an uncomfortable yet necessary glimpse into the war zone. With this conflict still ongoing, but somehow slipping out of the public’s view, this documentary could not come at a better time. Chernov and his colleagues’ footage is presented completely unfiltered, meaning that it is even more horrifying than many of the images we have seen on television, but this is the way it must be seen for real change to be made. What really sets this movie out is the tremendous bravery of its filmmaker and subjects. These journalists are risking their lives to expose these injustices and atrocities with a level of honesty and unparalleled access that we have not seen to this point and likely never will again due to the state of the situation in that part of the world.
The film is absolutely relentless in showing the bleak truth, resulting in a near-constant barrage of distressing and upsetting imagery. This is not a documentary for the squeamish, as Chernov does not shy away from the bloody and brutal aftermath of this invasion. However, viewers watching the movie will realize how important it is to see this footage exposing the true face of the conflict.
Perhaps the single most affecting and devastating moment — in a film that is absolutely filled with them — is the last one. Chernov closes on a final image that, while not nearly as graphic as some of the ones before it, manages to perfectly encapsulate every feeling of sadness experienced in the preceding hour and a half in what may be the most haunting ending of a documentary in the history of the medium. Unfortunately, the one area of the movie that leaves something to be desired is the narration. Chernov narrates the film himself, and while this is understandable given that the movie represents his experience as a journalist on the front lines, his voice is somewhat dry. Still, the images are so harrowing that they are able to do much of the heavy lifting. 20 Days in Mariupol is probably the hardest-to-watch documentary playing at Sundance this year, but it is also undeniably the timeliest. Viewers should not ignore this critical portrait of one of the most devastating conflicts we will ever see in our times. 20 Days in Mariupol is playing at the 2023 Sundance Film Festival, which runs January 19-29 in-person in Park City, UT and January 24-29 online. Rating: 4/5
Review by Sean Boelman
At every festival, a select few films are acquired right before the festival begins, securing themselves a spot as one of the buzziest titles in the lineup. Right before crowds descended on Park City, Netflix picked up the Australian horror-thriller Run Rabbit Run. Unfortunately, their hopes were misplaced, as director Daina Reid’s feature debut is staggeringly uninteresting.
The film follows a mother who becomes increasingly concerned over her daughter’s strange behavior, bringing her to the realization that she may still be haunted by her past. It’s a film that presents itself like a combination of a psychological thriller and a ghost story, but what it feels like is the bones of a film without any flesh. Writer Hannah Kent’s decision to make the protagonist a fertility doctor seems like an interesting choice at first, until one realizes that the story is simply replacing a “crisis of faith” with a “crisis of science.” Once those pieces are put together, it becomes clear that what we are watching is not some profound, horror-tinged rumination on life, but a tired retread of familiar tropes with an occasionally unique perspective. The film’s pacing is dreadfully slow, which wouldn’t be much of an issue if Daina Reid were able to more effectively build a disquieting atmosphere. Instead, it feels like the “horror” of the film comes from no other source than “creepy kids are creepy.” And while young actress Lily LaTorre is mildly unsettling in the role, it won’t be enough to phase most audiences.
There are some interesting visual ideas in the film, mostly related to how it showcases the landscape of Australia, but Reid unfortunately doesn’t seem to have the visual grammar necessary to create a compelling horror picture. Her attempts to blur the lines of reality within the film completely fall flat.
However, the part of the film that is most likely to frustrate viewers is the character development. The protagonist is a genuinely terrible, almost unredeemable person. She does some pretty deplorable things — and not in a messed up but entertaining in its depravity way, but a way that is absolutely annoying. It’s really a shame that the role is so poorly written, because even the phenomenally talented Sarah Snook (Succession) can’t elevate it. Much like the film itself, her performance feels cold and strangely detached. Snook is no stranger to playing characters that aren’t particularly empathetic, so it’s surprising to see such a large disconnect here. Now is about the time that one would say Run Rabbit Run had potential even if its execution was uneven, but there sadly just isn’t anything here. It seems to be an attempt to revitalize the genre, but it is so lacking in life that it is an absolute slog to get through. Run Rabbit Run is playing at the 2023 Sundance Film Festival, which runs January 19-29 in-person in Park City, UT and January 24-29 online. Rating: 1.5/5 |
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