21 POSITIONS -- Intimate Relationship Portrait Ruined by Shoddy Storytelling and Dismal Direction12/29/2023 Review by Daniel Lima  To watch a relationship play out before your eyes in twenty-one intimate moments, each captured in one take, sounds like an exhilarating idea for a film. Such is 21 Positions, the new Spanish drama from director Néstor Ruiz Medina, with the added twist that the couple at the center makes their living making pornographic content for OnlyFans. In the right hands, a film with this conceit could be a candid and textured examination of the contours of such a partnership. Unfortunately, Medina stumbles on obvious pitfalls that the novel execution creates. The most immediate challenge the premise offers is the number of shots. As limited as it is, the moments chosen to be shown are paramount to how effectively the film charts the young lovers’ lives, and communicates the emotions that play out between them. Here is where Medina stumbles out the gate: no definition is given to their relationship until over halfway through the movie. Though their job is established early on, and some turmoil is hinted at, the film is largely composed of random shots of the two leads driving around, dancing at a club, or lounging at home. These moments are sometimes beautifully captured, often set at magic hour, on gorgeous 16mm film. Yet, they neither elucidate the history of this couple, speak to something deeper about their bond, or imply anything about what is amiss. Withholding information from an audience is certainly within the purview of a filmmaker, but the format begs for economical and precise storytelling. The lack here creates a distance between the audience and the couple whose lives should be laid bare. A brief allusion is made to their different philosophies on the sex work they perform. Still, the nature of their relationship, their personal history, and how they approach their work are impossible to surmise from watching the two lying about in their backyard. Considering that the entire conceit begs to be used to examine the seemingly inherent conflict in turning some of your most intimate moments into consumable content, this is a grave misstep. As a result, when drama begins to actually develop, it is abrupt and disconnected from the relatively happy and open portrait that’s been presented thus far. Here, also, the gimmick hampers the storytelling, as by this point, there’s less than half of the allotted shots left in the tank. This means the most contentious parts of the relationship must play out in nine long takes, and the result feels rushed and lacks any sense of gravity. With a better sense of how the two related to each other and their work, there might be a sense of something lost. Instead, the audience is left wrapping their heads around a brand-new random development before the next one hits.  Many filmmakers have seemed to struggle with how exactly to deploy a long take. Often, it seems they become enamored with the fact that they can do one without considering how the framing and blocking of the actors can affect the feel of a scene. Medina’s efforts are a mixed bag, sometimes providing the intimacy the material calls for, other times taking a verité approach that heightens the artificiality rather than allowing a moment to feel truly organic. Again, the fact that a limited number of shots in the first place makes these choices all the more egregious, and every scene that introduces a degree of removal from the central characters is incredibly frustrating.
It should be noted that for a film about a pair of sex workers, one that gestures towards a libertine attitude early on, 21 Positions reveals itself to be notably conservative in what they do, to the point it might be called reactionary. While the film doesn’t outright vilify the characters for making pornographic content, it does create a direct link between it and their burgeoning conflict, with even the dialogue implying that might be a corrupting, insidious influence, or at least an unfulfilling one. Perhaps this could be excused as a consequence of the lack of definition given to their profession or the lack of sophistication in the storytelling in general. Considering how many works about sex workers that don’t run into this problem and the leering male gaze throughout the film, it might also be the case that Medina was simply ill-suited for this material. Ultimately, 21 Positions is a great idea that required a defter touch to execute properly. For this to work, it needed more careful consideration of what to show, more insight into this couple and how their work affects their relationship, and, ideally, a less regressive view of their lifestyle. As disappointing as this was, I don’t doubt that another filmmaker will come along and explore this same milieu to greater effect. I only hope they take an approach as ambitious as this. 21 Positions is available on demand December 29. Rating: 2/5
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Review by Jonathan Berk  Dan Levy wrote, directed, and stars in Good Grief. The film has moments that are really emotionally affecting and features some very great supporting performances. However, the story sometimes feels aimless, and some sequences make the characters feel insufferable. Good Grief is not flawless, but it has enough good to make it a decent debut feature for Levy. Marc's (Dan Levy) whole life is abruptly disrupted after his husband Oliver (Luke Evans) dies. As time goes by, Marc's friends Thomas (Himesh Patel) and Sophie (Ruth Negga) have been a constant system of support. However, the friends head to Paris to confront some hard truths and do a little soul-searching. There are a lot of moments in the film that allow the actors to give long monologues. The one that works the absolute best is given by David Bradley, who plays Oliver's father. His speech at Oliver's funeral is powerful and somehow still subtle. It's one of the few speeches a character gives that doesn't sound like they're regurgitating a self-help book. This speech also gives Levy the opportunity to react and demonstrate his emotional range.  While some of the later speeches feel clunky in their structure, the performances are still very good. Late into the film's third act, Levy, Patel, and Negga sit around a ruined dinner table. Each takes turns spouting armchair psychology about their emotional well-being. "Let me be sorry" and phrases like that are bantered about in rapid succession. It is important for humans to have a grip on their emotional well-being, but this sequence trying to be a big third-act moment feels far less impactful than it should.
In reality, this movie could have used a bit more melodrama. The stakes and the revelations never really hit the emotional chords they should. Levy plays the role maybe a bit too restrained at times for a man who has many reasons to lose control. There is a sequence on a Ferris wheel that really seems perfect for this big escalation. Three people harboring issues with each other are put into a situation they can't easily escape. The film acknowledges this circumstance and then really doesn't do much with it. Things are said, but it still doesn't feel significant or revelatory. Good Grief delivers in a few ways, but mostly by allowing us to see some really good performances from its cast. The overall premise tends to just work, as it's hard not to feel sympathy for someone who loses the love of their life. There are traces of films that have come before dealing with love and loss and that sense of continued discovery after they are gone. Yet, this one doesn't quite feel as impactful as those that came before. Good Grief hits theaters on December 29 and streams on Netflix beginning January 5. Rating: 3/5 Review by Jonathan Berk  Jared Keeso is a gift to humanity and all things funny. While every member of Letterkenny’s crew delivers year after year, the creative vision of Keeso continues to triumph. The fact that Season 12 of Letterkenny is the final season is probably for the best. The six episodes focus heavily on the fear of being “stuck,” and there are plenty of examples of TV shows overstaying their welcome. While we have likely not seen the last of some of the characters, as Keeso has a deal in place for more content, this feels like a fitting farewell to the show as it stands. The three core groups of Letterkenny — the hicks, the skids, and the hockey players — are on full display for this season. However, the Degens are on the rise as they jockey their way into a prominent position this season. The usual Letterkenny format is firmly in place, with bits taking center stage while a continuing plotline plays out in the background of the comedy. The dynamic of the core group of “hicks” — comprised of Wayne (Keeso), his sister Katy (Michelle Mylett), Daryl (Nathan Dales), and Squirrelly Dan (K. Trevor Wilson) — is threatened. Katy is considering moving to Mexico, Dan is drawn towards a Mennonite lifestyle, and Daryl’s differences push him towards a new friend group. Wayne’s relationships with his friends and other members of Letterkenny are on his mind, as is where he fits into everything. In true Letterkenny style, the humor is often silly and goofy, yet it finds ways to resonate emotionally. While constantly poking fun at the archetypes of the characters, the substance of the humor is far more forward-thinking than one may expect. Episode 1 introduces a stand-up night at Modean’s, which allows for some commentary on stand-up comedy while simultaneously showcasing each of our central character’s talents.  Reilly (Dylan Playfair) and Jonesy (Andrew Herr), the hockey guys, initially have this season of hooking up with their “Billet” sisters, which is a Canadian term for “the daughter of the family a young hockey player lives with, who is around the same age as players" (according to Urban Dictionary). However, they’re given time to reflect on who they are and acknowledge that maybe it’s time to grow up even further.
The Skids — centered around Stewart (Tyler Johnston) and Roald (Evan Stern) — also find themselves stuck. They’ve exhausted their sales of Snooters and are looking to up their game. However, it takes a few ups and downs to finally help focus their attention on redemption. This leads to a great callback in the final episode of the final season. There have been so many jokes, characters, and fighters over the 12 seasons of Letterkenny, and almost all of them get some love in the final season. The show does a great job of referencing while not simply rehashing the memories of the things that came before — a trope many final seasons get hung up on. Instead of overstaying its welcome, Letterkenny tugs at the heartstrings while simultaneously causing its fans to bust a gut laughing. The final season of Letterkenny is now streaming on Hulu. Rating: 5/5 Review by Cole Groth  A new champion has emerged between Adam Driver’s two biopics where he puts on a ridiculous Italian accent in Michael Mann’s Ferrari. This isn’t to say that the film is a masterpiece — neither one is. But, where House of Gucci was a dreadfully stupid movie that never found its footing, it has a somewhat clear vision and an incredibly compelling story. Here, Mann directs the life of Enzo Ferrari, splitting the film into two distinct pieces. The first is a slightly dull, soapy story of the automotive mogul, with the second being a thrilling action piece about racing. The second piece works a lot better than the first. Enzo Ferrari was an incredibly complicated and powerful man. In this film, we see his chaotic life choices play out: a decade-long affair has forced him into a double life with his wife, Laura (Penélope Cruz), and lover, Lina (Shailene Woodley). After the death of his first child with Laura in 1957, his declining marriage with her, and the impending demise of his company, Enzo decides to enter his team into the Mille Miglia to bring the Ferrari brand back into the limelight. Driver, Cruz, and Woodley are all pretty fantastic in their roles. Driver and Woodley are hindered by these gaudy Italian accents, but Cruz shines in every way. The three weave a complicated love triangle that feels authentic. It’s one of the best portrayals of an affair I’ve seen in a movie because of how the three interact. Enzo cares for both Laura and Lina while engaging in his double life. He’s in a complicated relationship with the two that works because of his chemistry with each actress.  There’s a scene toward the film’s end where everything comes to a head. It’s one of the most shocking scenes in a biopic in a while, and I’ll refrain from spoiling it because it’s the moment where the film moves from being a somewhat average biopic to something much better. Mann spends most of the movie with as little grandeur as possible. He strips away any of the bells and whistles that directors like Ridley Scott or Adam McKay bring and, in a scene, decides to bring them back together. It’s an incredible moment and one of the better ones of the year.
The film’s editing is the biggest boon to it being a masterpiece. Mann struggles with balancing the exciting racing stuff with the dramatic interpersonal relationships. Both are good on their own but are so juxtaposed that they feel like two separate movies. There is also some iffy special effects stuff, most notably in the earlier-mentioned shocking scene, that took me out of the film’s realism, but otherwise, the production design is very well done. Ferrari is a little all over the place. Anchored through great performances from the leading three and some killer racing sequences, this biopic of a larger-than-life personality is mostly a winner. This will undoubtedly be a controversial watch for many, but it’s certainly not a bad film. It’s been eight years since Mann released his last movie, and while this one is a little underwhelming, his return to film is a Christmas present of its own. Ferrari releases in theaters on December 25. Rating: 3.5/5
Review by Sean Boelman
Steve McQueen’s documentary Occupied City is an ambitious work, and much of it is quite effective. However, despite the the film clearly coming from a well-meaning place, and being incredibly well-executed, some aspects of the message are frustrating in the conjectures they try to make.
The documentary is based on Bianca Stigter’s book, Atlas of an Occupied City, Amsterdam 1940-1945, which tells the story of the Nazi occupation of the Netherlands through images of the city today. It’s a fascinating concept, and Stitger and McQueen (who are married) clearly have a lot to say with this experimental work, but it does not always work. From a purely technical standpoint, the movie is impressive. Eschewing archive footage for fly-on-the-wall modern-day captures, McQueen expertly uses juxtaposition in brilliant ways. The editing by Xander Nijsten is among the best in any film this year, fiction or nonfiction, in creating meaning — even if the meaning it creates is occasionally unfortunate. The aspect of the movie that seems likely to alienate most viewers is its length. Clocking in at over four hours, the film gets its point across somewhat quickly, and while the remainder of the runtime is still effective, impatient viewers could grow weary of the experience. Mercifully, there is an intermission, but even so, it’s a taxing, devastating watch. 
The narration by Melanie Hyams is somewhat dry, but it accomplishes precisely what it is intended to do. Her occasionally monotonous description, taken from Stigler’s nonfiction book, describes many atrocities in extreme levels of detail but does so in a way that reinforces the sheer level of horror we should feel.
However, the movie’s technical prowess can only carry it so far, as its thesis has mixed results. At many points, it seems that the film intends to purport a comparison between the lockdown in Amsterdam during the COVID-19 pandemic and the confinement of Jews in concentration camps during the Holocaust. This comparison is frankly baffling, and without this aside, this could have been a perfectly harrowing documentary. However, the movie’s brash ignorance in this regard is enough to leave a bad taste in viewers’ mouths. It really is a shame that these portions of the film are so frustrating, as the rest of the movie’s political message is incredibly effective. Apart from the COVID stuff, the film is also interested in creating a connection between the presence of white supremacy in modern-day society and the Nazism that gave way to the Holocaust. This urgent call to action is where McQueen thrives most. Occupied City has all the makings of a fantastic documentary. Unfortunately, a frustrating aside in its arguments prevents it from having the impact it could. Steve McQueen is undeniably a fantastic image-maker, but with this documentary being as long as it is, it’s hard to recommend through all of its problems. Occupied City hits theaters on December 25. Rating: 3/5 |