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Review by Daniel Lima  How much one gets out of In Our Day may depend as much on their relationship with the director’s body of work as their response to this film. Hong Sang-soo has been making films for the past three decades, and by all accounts, they have tackled many of the same themes in many of the same forms. As someone with only a cursory familiarity with his oeuvre, it’s not hard to see the appeal, but there’s only so much to be gleaned from what is presented here. Like most of his other works, the film follows artists: an older poet experiencing a late-career resurgence and a middle-aged actress who recently returned to Seoul after becoming disenchanted with her craft. The two narratives — though that is perhaps too lofty a phrase to describe them — never actually intersect, though there are common elements reflected in both. Through conversations with friends and admirers, the two reflect on art, life, and loss. Also, there is a cat. Formally, this is as bare bones and rudimentary as you can get. Shooting on what appears to be consumer-grade cameras, two locations for each story (one of which is just outside the door of each artist’s home), each scene just a single, continuous, locked-down shot, and heavily improvised dialogue. With no prior knowledge of the director, it’d be easy to mistake this for a student production; even having only seen his 2011 film The Day He Arrives, I was a bit taken aback by just how pared down this movie is.  While the conversations are meandering, with lots of repetitive small talk about the food they’re eating and games of Rock Paper Scissors, they both hit familiar beats. The poet has found some measure of success that had eluded him for so long, but he finds himself more preoccupied with everyday concerns. When pressed to offer some sage wisdom, he implores his audience to enjoy life’s simple pleasures. Similarly, while she struggles to offer a young fan any advice on breaking into the industry, the actress has a clear understanding of what convinced her to leave it behind, explaining the exact moment that she felt her art lost its luster. Both harbor regrets over misspent youths and pleasures that are now closed off to them, but they have an appreciation for the life they lead now.
The amateur quality of this film is impossible to ignore, particularly coming from a filmmaker who regularly shows up at big international film festivals and has been making movies since the 1990s. Though his work clearly resonates with many, and these themes are certainly self-reflective as he ages into his twilight years, there is something to be said about how much should be expected from an artist of his caliber. Considering how low rent this is, how vaguely these ideas are actually explored, and how often he explores them in this way, should it be judged more harshly? Should someone with his stature be expected to show more growth, to take more care, to offer… more? There is something to be said for that. However personal this film might be, when you’re three minutes into just watching people eat dinner, repeating that they like the food in every possible permutation the improving actors can think of, staying within that moment can be difficult. A sharp, focused script could have lent this a more hand-crafted quality, a sense of intention that would make spending time with these characters more resonant and meaningful, even if they’re still just eating and enjoying each other’s company. Yet, I can’t say that In Our Day is an unpleasant time. As tossed off as it may feel to some, there is something admirable about an experienced filmmaker who so commits to such an unobtrusive style, stripping away the craft to only the bare essentials and then going further still. It makes for a calming, serene experience, albeit one with a definite ceiling for how much it can actually achieve. Also, there is a cat. In Our Day hits theaters on May 17. Rating: 3/5
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Review by Daniel Lima  The hazy, loose Los Angeles-set neo-noir has become its own distinct subgenre. Seminal films such as The Long Goodbye, The Big Lebowski, and Inherent Vice follow detectives who end up way over their heads, caught in a web of conspiracies and subterfuge that they unravel only by happenstance. Poolman, the directorial debut of actor Chris Pine, has the charm, the disconnected narrative, the performances, and the look of these films down pat. Paradoxically, however, it lacks the focus that makes the best of them so potent. Pine stars as — wouldn’t you know it — a poolman who lives and works at a roadside motel. After a routine visit to city hall, heckling local officials for not meeting the needs of their constituents, he is approached by a mysterious woman who asks for his help in uncovering a criminal plot involving some of the most powerful men in LA. Together with his closest friends, he attempts to expose the seedy underbelly of the highest echelon of the city… regardless of how utterly lost he actually is. To give the film some credit, it is clear this is a labor of love. Pine is as charming as he has ever been, and it’s clear he has great empathy for the now-familiar archetype of the principled yet underachieving lout, committed to the cause of righteousness even if he is neither the most competent nor exemplary model of a do-gooder. The rest of the ensemble relishes their role, with DaWanda Wise and Stephen Toblowsky especially being the clear standouts. Fostering a sense of community goes a long way in grounding a film like this, and the distinct characters that populate this world certainly help with that. For what it’s worth, it doesn’t have the amateurish, slapdash feel that many an actor’s vanity project has either. Produced by filmmaker Patty Jenkins and the experienced Stacey Sher, shot on celluloid by Jenkins’ frequent cinematographer, and having intricate sets and costumes that are varied and revealing, the care that went into creating this world is right on the screen. In Poolman, Los Angeles is exactly the vibrant, offbeat, singular place that its title character would take such interest in defending. It is unfortunate, then, that the movie makes absolutely no sense.  An ephemeral and esoteric narrative, or at least a prohibitively convoluted one, is part and parcel of this brand of sun-soaked noir. That said, they still have to maintain a perspective, impart some kind of artistic thesis, or, at the very least, establish stakes. At some point, there needs to be a sense of exactly how out of their depth the protagonist is, how far-reaching the power of their foes is, and how integral their nefarious schemes are to the society they corrupt.
That moment of elucidation never arrives here. Multiple viewings of Pine’s appeals to the city council do nothing to help clear up what exactly has him so aggrieved in the first place. As he investigates further, the names of people and places are rattled off so quickly, with no faces to attach them to, that it becomes impossible to keep track of who is who and what is what. When these unseen figures do finally show up, they are shuffled into and out of the narrative so quickly that it’s hard to make sense of their significance. All this means that what is actually happening is unfathomable long before the mystery gets underway. This means that this film lives and dies on how much the audience can enjoy hanging out with these characters. The problem there is that, while the performances are solid and the character’s personalities are well-defined, they don’t have good material to work with. For all the absurd humor and outsized acting, nothing here is particularly funny. For all the technical craftsmanship on display, both the flow of the story and the rhythm of individual scenes feel off, with too much dead air in both. A sharper script would have benefitted all the best elements of the movie greatly; without that, there’s nothing to tie it together into a cohesive whole. Yet it’s hard to be too hard on Poolman. At a time when even smaller films feel like they are playing things safe, attempting to meet audience expectations rather than set them, it is nice to see someone use their star power to push something so shaggy and odd to the finish line. Poolman is now playing in theaters Rating: 3/5 H2: THE OCCUPATION LAB -- Informative, Effective Doc on Israeli Occupation Limits Ambitions5/9/2024 Review by Daniel Lima  Documentary filmmaking may be the most dynamic and engaging way to succinctly impart information to an audience, but making that the primary artistic goal creates a ceiling that can be impossible to break through. H2: The Occupation Lab is a sterling example of this, as it seeks to educate viewers about the Palestinian city of Hebron, a portion of which is under the direct control of the Israeli government. Though it is undoubtedly an informative work, it lacks the perspective and drive that would make it stand out. An old city in the West Bank of significant religious importance to both Jews and Muslims, Hebron was forcibly occupied by Israel shortly after its creation. Tensions between the Palestinian residents and the Israeli settlers rose through the decades as the IDF exerted more and more direct control on behalf of the settlers. Today, H2 — the Israeli section of the city — is practically a ghost town, with the Muslim residents subject to raids, detainment, random acts of violence, and a lingering malevolent aura, a sense that they are not welcome in their own homes. The film is certainly effective in detailing how the situation deteriorated to its present state, offering a comprehensive overview of the city’s history. Beginning not with the establishment of the Israeli military government of Hebron but with the massacre of the Jewish population in 1927, the holistic portrait of conflict within the city manages to acknowledge sins committed by both factions without bothsiderist rhetoric that ignores power differentials. It is clear from how the movie is structured, bookending with images of empty streets and IDF soldiers harassing Palestinians, that the occupation is an evil for which there is no defense. It just doesn’t shy away from inconvenient truths.  Most of the film is a chronological rundown of H2, with archival footage and talking head interviews with people present at major events. Surprisingly, not all the interviews are with Arabs; plenty of former Israeli officials and soldiers offer their own accounts, albeit most with a sympathetic or regretful perspective toward the people they worked to oppress. While these segments intend to impart the history of the city, the footage and testimonials are often emotionally stirring and disturbing. Jewish settlers mock Palestinians in their homes; IDF soldiers gleefully talk about gunning down taxis; Arab residents are executed on public streets. Perhaps most chilling is the cumulative substance of the footage, as lively streets full of Palestinians from decades ago give way to a barren, empty ghost town.
However, the movie falls a bit short in articulating a thesis beyond merely retelling and detailing how things got so bad. As implied by the title, it is stated early on that the practices that Israel instituted throughout the occupied territories were first tested within H2 — a perfect staging ground as an Israeli stronghold with a Muslim majority. Since most of the movie is spent on history, however, no time is spent drawing more than a casual link between what goes on in Hebron and Palestine as a whole. Naturally, anyone with a passing familiarity with what has been happening in Gaza can recognize the similarities, but establishing a timeline and a causal relationship between H2 and the world at large would have given these images even more potency and urgency. Ultimately, H2: The Occupation Lab is still interesting, harrowing, and informative enough to warrant a watch despite a relative lack of artistic ambition. Its primary purpose is simply to make its audience more knowledgeable about the situation in Hebron and the whole of Palestine, and it does an admirable job at that. It just would be nice if it attempted to go further than that. H2: The Occupation Lab is available on VOD May 10. Rating: 3.5/5 Review by Daniel Lima  As much as I love science fiction, I can’t help but wonder to myself when the last truly visionary work in the genre was. That isn’t to say we are bereft of any good examples these days, but it feels like there has not been a work like Blade Runner or The Matrix — totemic works that introduced new ideas to the popular consciousness and changed the way we imagined the future — in quite some time. Mars Express is not another game-changer, indebted as it is to well-worn themes and tropes, but it is still a gorgeous package with an interesting world and an engrossing mystery. Set 100 years in the future, humanity has colonized Mars and is supported by a large population of robots — shackled AIs bound into servitude. A pair of private detectives, one human and one robot, go on a routine missing persons job and find themselves embroiled in a much larger conspiracy. Murder, a shady corporation, and a nascent liberation movement threaten to upend the society that has been built on the red planet. This is cyberpunk in a grounded, relatively hard sci-fi world, and it follows many of the conventions set by past works in the genre. Colonists live in huge domes with screens that mimic blue skies; activists jailbreak AI to unlock unrestricted sentience; digital backups for the recently deceased, given a second life in robotic bodies. Similarly, ideas about what it means to be human and the path humanity chooses to take as it pushes further into the universe are part and parcel of this particular subgenre. This isn’t necessarily a bad thing, but there’s not much novelty to this particular vision of the future.  Where the film does succeed is in bringing that vision to life. This is a low-budget animated film, mostly 2D (3D is used for the backgrounds, some characters, and environmental objects), so there is a stiffness to much of the movement, and many of the shorts feel static. The art design, however, goes a long way in giving Mars a distinct feel, clean and corporatized, with hints of older technologies still holding on as the bleeding edge is rolled out. Concepts like organic computers overtaking digital counterparts might not be fresh, but seeing these eerie bioengineered organisms floating in jars is still fascinating.
The way information about this world is doled is one of the greatest strengths of Mars Express. This colony has a long and storied history, with a clear set of pervading beliefs and attitudes. Those details are only ever learned in passing, through dialogue and character beats that don’t take the tenor of exposition. The robot detective has a tenuous relationship with humans that reflects his place in society; mentions of a past military incident involving robots explain the rise of bioware; shunned practices exploit the possibility of copying one’s mind into another body. Worldbuilding like this, seamless and natural, is what separates truly involving speculative fiction from careless dreck. Admittedly, these details are a bit more memorable than the actual story. The investigation does have propulsive energy, and the budgetary limitations of an animated film obviously forced the creative team to consider every single frame very carefully to its benefit. The characters are all well-defined, from the leads all the way down to those that only get a line or two. The ultimate conclusion is surprisingly thoughtful and decidedly not designed to sate a general audience, which makes it all the more affecting. Yet, when thinking about what makes the movie work, the scope and amount of detail spring to mind far quicker than the narrative details themselves. As impressive as Mars Express is, the one thing holding it back is how indebted it is to what came before. At a time when artificial intelligence is now a hot-button issue set to disrupt the current order of things — perhaps for the worst — it is a bit of a missed opportunity for a film like this to reflect past iterations of what the future may bring. That might not detract from what the film offers, but it limits its horizons. Mars Express is now in theaters. Rating: 4/5 Review by Daniel Lima  Another year, another installment of The Roundup. Beginning in 2017 with The Outlaws, the series sees the hulking Ma Dong-seok as a Seoul detective who is as quick to punch through red tape and police regulations as he is an army of criminal scum. The latest entry, The Roundup: Punishment, does little to change a formula already growing stale, but watching its star go to work is its own singular joy. Summarizing the plot feels like a fool's errand, not because it's overly complex but because it is so similar to the previous entries that a description feels unnecessary. A new criminal element pops up in Seoul, with some kind of overseas connection (these films are the xenophobic mirror to Hong Kong's In the Line of Duty series). Ma Dong-seok quickly becomes embroiled in taking down this syndicate, utilizing his extensive underworld connections and brash, bull-in-a-china-shop approach to policing to get results. As the dastardly villains do as they please, he closes in, usually butting heads with his chain of command along the way. Eventually, there is a climactic confrontation, and our rugged hero outboxes the psychopaths he's chasing. Lather, rinse, repeat. Obviously, the details change, but that basic structure seems set in stone. There are worse things for a crime-actioner to be than predictable, but four entries in the plot machinations of this online gambling conspiracy feel cursory, and the antagonists never feel threatening, mainly because of how inevitable their downfall will be. To make matters worse, their schemes and crimes remain largely disconnected from the efforts of the team of detectives to catch them, meaning it takes some time to develop a real personal stake for the cops to apprehend their quarry. Sometimes, it feels like you're watching a Godfrey Ho film, two totally different movies stitched together.  Normally, watching the cops go about their procedural business is fun in and of itself. Here, it feels similarly weightless and perfunctory. At first, it seems like there will be much made of the brutish lead detective's inability to punch out cybercrime, but some techs are added to the team to solve that, none of whom receive any substantial characterization. They also feel like far less of a team in this entry, with very little of the banter that filled the previous films. The one highlight is Park Ji-hwan's petty thief, a fixture in this series who always provides some flamboyant comic relief, and he's not even a cop (one of the few gags relies on that).
Despite all this, it's impossible to be hard on this movie when there is so much time spent watching Ma Dong-seok punch people. The man is a former boxer. He's big and brawny, and just about every movie he is in takes full advantage of those facts. This one, in particular, is liberally peppered with scuffles that see him throwing haymakers that send his adversaries literally flying through the air. The action design isn't particularly impressive, but the man's sharp movements, the reactions of the stuntmen taking the hits, and even the sound design go a long way in selling the power of his blows. It's truly the movie's highlight and one of the selling points of the entire franchise. That said, The Roundup: Punishment does feel like the series is starting to lose steam. Perhaps the creative team behind it is perfectly willing to apply this formula to foreign criminals from every country in the world, but a change would be welcome if only to ensure some kind of emotional investment in what actually happens. If nothing else, I'll always come back to watch this guy hit things. The Roundup: Punishment is now in theaters. Rating: 3/5 |