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review by Jonathan Berk  In 2018, fans of metal music and outrageous comedies were treated to a charming cinematic merge with directors Juuso Laatio and Jukka Vidgren's Heavy Trip. After six years, the guys are back with the aptly titled sequel, Heavier Trip. The first film was full of charm and some wild comedic moments that made it extremely memorable. While the second film tries to give audiences more of the same, it doesn’t quite live up to its predecessor. After the events of the first film, the members of Impaled Rektum — Turo (Johannes Holopainen) on vocals, Xyrtax (Max Ovaska) on bass, Oula (Chike Ohanwe) on drums, and Lotvonen (Samuli Jaskio) on guitar — are still serving time in Norway’s nicest prison. The guys are initially content with finishing their sentence until Lotvonen’s parents' reindeer farm is about to be foreclosed upon. If they can land a big gig and get paid some big bucks, they could potentially save the farm — and Lotvonen’s father’s health. After busting out of prison, they set their sights on getting added to the Wacken festival in Northern Germany. It’s not uncommon for sequels to attempt to give us more of the same. Heavier Trip commits the sequel sin of bringing the guys back to what is essentially the same place they were at the beginning of the first film. There is mention of their fame and the demand for their music after the exploits of the first movie — but the plot quickly undercuts this, still leaving them as a group of nobodies. A large part of the film essentially debates whether they should “sell out” or not, and every moment connected to that seems to ignore the fact that they played a major show at the end of the first film. The conflict in this sequel feels contrived, and while the idea of a road trip is embedded in the name, this particular trip just feels like more of the same. If it managed to be as endearing and as funny as the first film, maybe this could be overlooked…but something is missing here that keeps those feelings just out of arm’s reach.  That’s not to say there aren’t elements that work. Xyrtax is still such a fun character. Aside from being the one truly dedicated to the music — at least from his perspective — his interactions with others are often the best moments. The real-life band Babymetal shows up as a recurring joke, with Xyrtax at the center, and it’s an excellent addendum to his character and the clear highlight of the film.
The band as a whole is what makes Heavier Trip worth watching. While it doesn’t quite hit the highs of the first film, the band’s charm remains intact, making it easy to root for these metal misfits the more you’re with them, despite the predictable plot. Turo’s drive to be an epic metal singer is unmistakable, and you genuinely want him to succeed. Lotvonen and Oula have their quirks and are also very likable. The amiability of the band, despite the extreme nature of their music and songs, makes this an easy watch. As every bump along the journey happens, you hope the guys can figure it out. Unfortunately, many of those bumps feel silly, redundant, or too predictable to make the entire journey memorable. There are a few cool set pieces that make the film pop a little more — yet, for a film about a band, it doesn’t feel like there’s enough music. Even when we do get scenes of the band playing, they’re often cut a little too short, only giving us a taste of their talent. The camerawork, costumes, and production all make those scenes visually pop, which only makes it sadder when we realize how brief they’ll be. Heavier Trip feels like it lands squarely in the sophomore slump often associated with a band’s second album. It’s not that the movie isn’t good, but it’s clearly not as good as the first. That comparison makes this one simply feel lesser. Imagine waiting for a band to finally come back to play the encore, only for them to replay some of the songs they played earlier in the night — it’s hard not to be disappointed. Heavier Trip is in theaters and available on VOD on November 29. Rating: 3/5
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Review by Jonathan Berk  The concept of “paint-by-numbers” is often associated with biopics. If you’ve seen one, you can often see the pattern in which filmmakers shape the story. That’s why when a filmmaker with a distinct style and approach takes on a film in this genre, they can break away from the status quo. Director Pablo Larraín has done just that with Jackie, Spencer, and now with his newest film, Maria. Maria Callas was once the world’s most renowned opera singer. But in 1977, she is living a life of seclusion in Paris with her butler, maid, and two poodles. Her health is in decline, but a request for her to return to opera for a tour raises an important question: Will La Callas sing again? And if so, for whom? One way Larraín approaches these three biopics that stands out is by choosing to focus on a very narrow portion of their life. He utilizes some flashbacks to explore outside the limited window in which the primary story is told — but for the most part, he chooses an impactful moment of these figures' lives rather than employing the “cradle to grave” format that many other biopics strive for. The sad reality, however, is that most moments in our lives are mundane and uneventful. By choosing to focus on these pivotal moments, Larraín provides a strong sense of who the person was rather than simply documenting the events they experienced. His approach, similar to Danny Boyle’s Steve Jobs, creates a heightened version of reality — one that makes for an enthralling cinematic experience that centers on the heart of who these people were, or what they may have been like.  While the storytelling in Maria is captivating, Angelina Jolie’s performance as the diva is equally impressive. The film chooses to integrate an operatic style into many of the sequences, and Jolie is tasked with delivering these incredible vocal performances. She not only shines in these grand moments — but also in the quiet, introspective ones. Maria’s mental and physical decline is conveyed so poignantly through Jolie’s portrayal. Her performance is spellbinding, bringing both vulnerability and grandeur to the screen, capturing Maria’s struggle to find her voice once again.
Pierfrancesco Favino and Alba Rohrwacher play the two other primary characters in the film — the butler and maid, respectively. Their performances are also incredible, and add depth to the depiction of Maria’s seclusion. There is a recurring motif where Favino’s character has to move the piano for a variety of reasons, despite having an injured back. It’s an element that could feel inconsequential, but instead carries an emotional weight that matches that of a man struggling with the burden of moving such a heavy instrument. The chemistry between the three forms the emotional spine of the film, and it’s in far better shape than the butler’s. The visuals in the film are extraordinary, matching the emotional richness of the performances. Larraín likes to dabble with surrealism, which results in some stunning cinematography. Various stylistic flourishes make scenes feel like documentary footage, while others play with our perception of reality or draw attention to the form itself. A black-and-white close-up of Jolie as she sings is one of those early images that instantly burns into your mind. We are introduced to the character in such an intimate way, locking eyes with the diva who we will be spending the next two hours with. Larraín’s style and voice shine through, demanding our attention, and making this film unforgettable. There is so much to take away from this movie that it is easy to recommend. Maria is a captivating portrait of a legend in her twilight, demanding that we remember her voice, her talent, and her struggle as tragedy fell upon her. This film may not paint the entire picture of her life, but it gives us a sense of who she was. For that alone, Larraín’s film is worth watching. Maria will be in select theaters on November 27 and on Netflix on December 11. Rating: 4/5 review by Jonathan Berk  In many cases, the concept of "show, don’t tell" is the essence of cinema. Every once in a while, though, a movie comes along that defies that principle and proves that — with the right actors — dialogue can be just as compelling as any image projected onto a screen. My Dinner with Andre is a prime example of a talkie that many find endlessly captivating. August Wilson’s previous cinematic adaptations — Fences and Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom — fall into this framework as well. While The Piano Lesson fits into this category, it is by far the most cinematic of all the entries. Fortunately, the cast in director Malcolm Washington’s feature film debut is more than up for the task. Boy Willie (John David Washington) arrives at his Uncle Doaker’s (Samuel L. Jackson) house hoping to sell his father’s old piano. The catch, however, is that it truly belongs to his sister, Berniece (Danielle Deadwyler), who has no intention of letting it go. The two argue over their perspectives on the past, the value of legacy, and their aspirations for the future. Danielle Deadwyler manages to shine the brightest in this incredible ensemble cast. This is not to take away from John David Washington, who delivered his best performance since breaking out in Spike Lee’s BlacKkKlansman. Yet, there’s something about Deadwyler’s performance’s many layers that makes it undeniable. Both actors get equal opportunities to shine, and they succeed in drawing the audience into the emotionally complex world they inhabit.  They are surrounded by a wealth of talent that helps fill out the scenes. Samuel L. Jackson never disappoints, and here is no exception. He delivers some memorable monologues, but comfortably takes on a supporting role, allowing the younger cast members to truly shine. It was a treat to see Ray Fisher flex his acting muscles after his challenging time in the DCU. His character, Lymon, has two particularly powerful scenes that remind us of the talent Fisher possesses. Michael Potts and Corey Hawkins also make the most of their roles, showcasing their acting prowess in key scenes.
One of the highlights of the film that allows it to break away from the intense dialogue is its quasi-musical sequences. One standout scene features Washington, Jackson, Fisher, and Potts gathered late one night, telling stories that evolve into a rhythmic recounting of their shared history. It’s engaging in every aspect—from camera placement to the beat the men create to tell their tale. There are many memorable moments throughout the film, but this initial musical number absolutely stands out and separates itself from the rest. Malcolm Washington employs impactful camera movement and positioning to keep the visuals dynamic, even when it’s often just people talking. The use of flashbacks and cutaways takes us out of the house where most of the story takes place, adding depth to the narrative. The story itself plays with reality and integrates supernatural elements, giving Washington the chance to experiment with creative flourishes that he is more than willing to employ. These components help this stage play adaptation feel more cinematic than Wilson’s two previous works. The Piano Lesson finds its rhythm quickly and never goes out of key. On the surface, the story is compelling, but it's the incredible talent delivering outstanding performances that make it truly resonate. Add in the creative touches of a promising young director, and you’ve got quite a film. It’s the kind of movie that may not work for everyone, but for those who it does, it will be an incredibly rewarding experience. The Piano Lesson will be on Netflix on November 22. Rating: 4/5 review by Jonathan Berk  It’s been 24 years since Ridley Scott brought the world Gladiator, a film that would go on to win Best Picture and earn Russell Crowe the Oscar for Best Actor along with several other nominations. Now, Gladiator II, the long-awaited sequel from the storied director, has finally hit the screen — but despite its star power, it doesn’t quite live up to its predecessor. The performances, while strong, aren’t enough to match the impact of the original, and some of Scott's creative choices seem puzzling. Years after the death of Maximus, Rome is now under the rule of tyrannical twin emperors. While many traditions have changed, the bloody spectacle of the arena endures as a primary source of entertainment. Lucius (Paul Mescal), who finds himself alive but filled with rage after a violent encounter with Roman soldiers led by General Acaius (Pedro Pascal), is given a chance to fight for Macrinus (Denzel Washington). Through this opportunity, Lucius could potentially earn his freedom as a Gladiator. The true reason to see this film lies in the performance Denzel Washington delivers. It's no secret that Washington is an incredibly talented actor, but he is doing something that feels very distinct in this role compared to his previous work. He is clearly enjoying himself, fully immersing in his character, while also bringing tremendous depth to the story. Often, actors are referred to as scene stealers…but in Gladiator II, Washington steals the entire film. He owns every moment he is on screen, and it's impossible not to be captivated.  That’s not to say Mescal, Pascal, Connie Nielsen, Joseph Quinn, and Fred Hechinger don’t deliver on their parts. Each of them turns in a solid performance, but none manage to pop the way Washington does. It’s not a matter of being overshadowed or diminished, but rather that they seem to struggle to connect with the material as effectively as Washington does. Many of their characters are burdened by trauma or tragedy, which forces them to play their roles in a restrained way —and the result isn’t quite as engaging as it could have been.
One notable difference from the original is the film's depiction of its action sequences. Gladiator felt more grounded in its battles, while this film includes moments that lean toward the fantastical. There is one particular scene in the arena that feels almost magical, with a battle that borders on the improbable. It's not a poorly executed sequence, but it feels somewhat out of place, given the gritty tone of the two films. The narrative also suffers from pacing and development issues. Despite the film running over two hours, some plot threads seem to materialize out of nowhere, without buildup. The third act, in particular, gets wild, introducing events and twists that feel unearned and disconnected from the careful build of the earlier scenes. Gladiator II ultimately feels like the mid-card fight that Roman citizens might have watched indifferently while waiting for the main event. Some moments, especially those featuring Washington weaving his plans and integrating himself into the other characters' lives, are truly worth cheering for. However, there are plenty of other scenes that will leave you glancing at your sundial, wondering how much longer this spectacle will go on. Gladiator II is in theaters everywhere on November 22. Rating: 3/5 by Jonathan Berk  If you celebrate Christmas, then you’re probably familiar with the story of Frosty the Snowman. The kids build him, put a magic hat on his head, and Frosty springs to life. The children have a blast with their new friend, the adults are understandably alarmed, and a jealous villain wants his magic hat back. Now, imagine if Frosty were incredibly ripped — dare I say, hot even. Netflix’s newest Christmas movie, Hot Frosty, delivers on that very premise. Kathy (Lacey Chabert) has struggled to care for herself and her home since her husband passed away. Her friends encourage her to start moving forward and to put more effort into fixing up her house. On her walk home from her diner one night, she places a scarf around the neck of a hunky snow sculpture. To her surprise, Jack (Dustin Milligan) shows up at her diner the next morning, ready to thank her for bringing him to life. Chabert has starred in countless Christmas movies since her Mean Girls days, with most of her titles in full Hallmark syndication. While she often brings charm to these Hallmark roles, she rarely seems to fully lean into her comedic potential. For Hot Frosty, however, Chabert taps into the peak of her talents, using her charm and comedic timing to make the movie shine among the available holiday-themed streaming options. Chabert’s wit and warmth are firing on all cylinders, making this movie stand out in the crowded world of Christmas rom-coms. Chabert shares strong chemistry with her co-star Milligan, who brings new meaning to the film’s title as he struts onto the screen with nothing but a scarf (and an eight-pack). The movie leans into Milligan’s unique combination of raw sexuality and genuinely humorous appeal, leading to charming, laugh-out-loud moments. In one of the funniest scenes, Jack startles an elderly couple walking their dog — the husband is frightened, while the wife is thoroughly amused. Milligan’s blend of heart and humor is a delight, turning a frosty figure into a warm Christmas charmer.  Fortunately, Milligan is more than just eye candy. His character brings loads of heart, a touch of Buddy-the-Elf optimism, and excellent comedic chops. He’s a joy to watch, as his innocence and sense of morality are shaped by TV and the people around him. Whether he’s fixing the roof, helping unstick a car, or making pizza, Milligan shines with every scene.
Director Jerry Ciccoritti’s film manages to balance the saccharine sweetness we expect from a Christmas movie with more traditional comedy elements. The film even ends with bloopers, reminiscent of the '90s comedies that we rarely see today. There’s enough romance here to classify it as a rom-com, complete with an extended montage that both cements this idea and serves as a fun homage to the genre. Notably, Lauren Holly, who appears in this film, starred in a ’90s movie that similarly paid homage to the same rom-com classic, which wasn’t lost on me. Craig Robinson and Joe Lo Truglio also bring standout performances as cops, injecting comedic gold into every scene they’re in. One highlight is a sequence where Milligan and Lo Truglio discuss dating. What begins as an innocent chat escalates into a hilarious exchange of compliments, ratcheting up the laughter as the scene continues and we watch these characters bond. That’s not to say Hot Frosty is an instant classic. The ending is a bit predictable, and a few scenes go on a bit too long or feel excessive. Still, the script is solid, with nearly every setup paying off meaningfully. The charm between the characters and the heartwarming holiday message create a feel-good experience perfect for the season. It is a fresh and funny Christmas comedy balanced with just the right dose of much-needed joy and holiday cheer. This might even earn a spot in my and my wife’s annual Christmas rotation. Hot Frosty is streaming on Netflix on November 13. Rating: 3.5/5 by Jonathan Berk  Both Jesse Eisenberg and Kieran Culkin have been cinematic mainstays for quite some time, but A Real Pain feels like the perfect culmination of their talents. Eisenberg shines both in front of and behind the camera, stepping into the director's role for the second time. However, Culkin is the true star here, unequivocally lighting up the screen every time he's in the frame. This is a film that will make you laugh and later cry as it compels reflection on every facet of humanity. David (Eisenberg) reunites with his cousin Benji (Culkin) at the airport as they prepare to travel to Poland. The two have a complex history and are set to tour their recently deceased grandmother's old home. As if the emotional weight of the tour itself weren’t enough, the cousins find themselves confronting unresolved issues from their past with a growing degree of tension. The tour group is filled with compelling characters whose introductions feel organic and endearing. The film allows most of the supporting cast to shine in their moments. Jennifer Grey delivers two remarkable monologues, Kurt Egyiawan shares a harrowing story that’s deeply moving, and Will Sharpe plays the tour guide with a mix of passionate insight and amusingly mild annoyance. Although Liza Shadovy and Daniel Oreskes have slightly less screen time, they manage to leave a lasting impression. The group dynamic between characters and actors truly peaks during a comical scene at a monument of Polish soldiers. As Benji recruits the group to pose with him for photos, the comedy builds, creating one of the film’s most warm and memorable moments. This is but one of many instances that allow us to feel like we truly know who these people are, and the journey that they're all taking.  The real draw here, however, is the interaction between Eisenberg and Culkin. Culkin’s Benji is overflowing with charisma, showing an intense interest in — and love for — people. He listens with such rapt attention you'd think he were hearing a legendary speaker, reacting to stories as though watching a thrilling game. But Benji isn’t always pleasant; when the kind and quirky pendulum peaks and begins to sway back, he can turn unnervingly bitter and vitriolic.
Eisenberg brings a familiar awkwardness to David, but there’s a clear sense of pain beneath his anxiety this time. His love for Benji is evident, though he remains baffled by his cousin's behavior. Despite their opposing natures, their connection is undeniable. You’ll find yourself rooting for them to finally confront the conversation they've both been avoiding. The tension is palpable, even as Benji often defuses it with humor. The chemistry between Eisenberg and Culkin is electric, with Culkin’s magnetic charm and intensity pulling viewers into a warm embrace of laughter and introspection. Eisenberg’s control of tone is what makes this movie truly work. He knows exactly when to push the right emotional buttons, and allows the heaviest moments of the tour to breathe. To his credit, he resists the urge to break the gravity of these scenes with humor, choosing instead to let the emotions resonate. A Real Pain is nothing short of remarkable. Culkin’s charm is infectious, and his naturalistic delivery of dialogue makes viewers feel like a part of the family, or another member of the tour. This is undoubtedly a standout film of the year. A Real Pain is in theaters on November 8. Rating: 5/5 by Jonathan Berk  Fans of the 2017 film American Honey will likely be excited about Andrea Arnold’s latest work, Bird. The raw, grounded quality seen in American Honey returns here, but Arnold’s new film offers a unique perspective, showcasing an evolution in her storytelling. Bird weaves a compelling story, balancing familiar genre tropes with fresh energy, due in large part to the exquisite performances. Bailey (Nykiya Adams) is a 12-year-old on the cusp of puberty, living with her father, Bug (Barry Keoghan), and brother, Hunter (Jason Buda), in a squat in North Kent. When Bug announces an unexpected change, Bailey resists, ultimately seeking adventure and attention elsewhere — leading her to a new friend named Bird (Franz Rogowski). In her feature debut, Adams delivers an impressive performance, appearing in nearly every frame and anchoring the film's emotional weight. The opening sequence finds her riding a scooter with Bug — who is loud and rebellious — creating a dynamic that doesn’t immediately suggest a father-daughter relationship. When they arrive at their squat and Bug delivers his “big news,” Bailey’s emotional reaction is palpable. It’s a tough scene, but Adams handles it beautifully. Andrea Arnold once again demonstrates her knack for guiding first-time actors to exceptional performances, much as she did with Sasha Lane in American Honey.  Keoghan continues to impress, revealing the broad range of his acting talent. Known for playing roles that are quiet, devilish, quirky, or some blend of these traits, he brings Bug to life with a raw edge reminiscent of Shia LaBeouf’s character in American Honey. However, as the film progresses, his portrayal of Bug — a father who initially appears more like “one of the kids” — takes on unexpected depth. A late scene offers Keoghan a powerful moment, prompting viewers to see Bug in a new, more complex light.
Ultimately, Bird is a coming-of-age story that examines Bailey’s search for identity and purpose. The film explores her challenging family dynamics, and how these shape her evolving sense of self. Bailey faces a swirl of instability: her father is a single parent, her mother’s life is riddled with chaos and violence, her half-siblings are exposed to that same chaos, and Hunter seems to be growing up too fast. Watching Bailey navigate these swirling layers of family tension is anxiety-inducing, underscoring why she’s drawn to Bird, her mysterious new friend. Rogowski brings a unique, distinct energy to his role as the titular character. From his entrance into the windy field where Bailey meets him, he exudes an intriguing mix of danger and calm, creating an almost otherworldly character. Rogowski's character is on a quest of his own, searching for a family he lost long ago. As Bailey helps him, she finds a way to process her own turbulent life. Bird is a thoughtful and reflective exploration of family, identity, and societal pressures brought to life by the talents of its young lead. Some elements may not resonate with all audiences, but for those open to Arnold’s deliberate storytelling choices, Bird offers a richly rewarding experience. With a clear voice and unique style, Arnold delivers a film that reinforces the qualities fans appreciated when they saw American Honey. Bird is in select theaters on November 8. Rating: 4/5 by Jonathan Berk  Ghost stories are often a mixed bag in the horror genre. Exceptional ones like The Others, The Devil’s Backbone, and The Changeling manage to evoke a sense of dread and foreboding that lingers long after the credits roll. There’s something about the inescapable nature of a ghost that taps into our primal fears. Director Bruce Goodison’s (Then Barbara Met Alan) new film, Black Cab, attempts to harness that haunting dread, but ultimately struggles to fully deliver. Anne (Synnøve Karlsen) is having doubts about the future of her relationship with Patrick (Luke Norris). After a heated argument, the two find themselves in the back of a cab driven by a chatty driver (Nick Frost). What begins as a minor annoyance quickly shifts into terror, as they realize the driver is not at all what he initially seemed. The film opens with a nightmare sequence in which Anne finds herself in a cab, pregnant, surrounded by a blood-red world. When she glimpses a ghost outside, it’s startling — but not quite what audiences might expect. The ghost’s design is awkward and unconvincing…and, unfortunately, this spectral entity becomes a recurring visual in the film. The journey that Black Cab takes the audience on is bumpier than the old roads the characters drive down. There’s an allegory of sorts at the heart of it all, but much of the film doesn’t add up to a cohesive story. The jump scares are mostly predictable and marred by weak visual effects, and the setting remains limited to the cramped cab, with only a few occasional changes in scenery. Though it manages to keep viewers leaning in anticipation for some sort of satisfying payoff, the film ultimately concludes with a bit of a sputter.  The standout reason to check out this film is Frost. When he’s given the chance to speak, he brings depth and engagement to every scene. Frost’s range has always been impressive, allowing him to shift from empathetic to menacing on a dime. He is ultimately the glue holding this film together, with his dual nature making him both amiable and terrifying. Without his performance, the film would likely be as transparently weak as its ghost design.
Norris serves as more of a prop throughout the story, though he does get a few scenes to showcase his ability to portray being a true asshole — and, to his credit, he nails it. Karlsen is the true focus of the film, though she’s asked to play a mostly passive role. Her character moves through her experiences in a detached “deer-in-the-headlights” state, and while an explanation is given, it doesn’t make for particularly compelling viewing. Karlsen delivers what the role requires, but the script doesn’t provide her with much depth. Black Cab has many of the ingredients needed for a solid ghost story, but they honestly don’t quite seem to ever come together. Frost brings his A-game, offering fans a compelling performance amid the film’s uneven scares. If you’re a fan of Frost in general, you will not be disappointed by the time you spend with him. Still, it’s hard to recommend you call shotgun for this particular cab ride — you might find yourself wishing you’d taken an Uber instead. Nonetheless, it’s not the worst horror film of the year — for those seeking a horror fix of some sort, this movie has just enough to scratch the itch. Black Cab will be on Shudder on November 8. Rating: 2/5 EMILIA PÈREZ -- A Genre-Blending Delight That Surprises, Entertains, and Transcends Expectations10/30/2024 By Jonathan Berk  Sometimes, you go to a movie because you expect it to deliver exactly what you want. Whether it’s a bombastic action film, a terrifying horror flick, a weepy love story, or a gut-busting comedy — you go in knowing what you want, and hopefully, you get it. Other times, you leave disappointed because the film didn’t deliver the goods. Then there are those rare times when you go in with no idea what to expect, and the movie gives you something you never knew you wanted… but now you realize you did. Jacques Audiard's (Rust and Bone) new film, Emilia Pérez, falls into the latter category, blending genres uniquely and unforgettably. Rita (Zoe Saldana), an underrated lawyer who’s grown tired of keeping criminals out of jail, is offered an opportunity that could change her life. The catch? She’ll be working for Manitas (Karla Sofia Gascon), a cartel leader, on a mission with life-altering consequences. Saldana has proven her acting prowess time and again, but within moments of this film, she delivers a performance that locks her in as a strong Oscar contender. She brings unmatched energy and nuance to Rita, transforming the legal process into a dynamic, musical experience. In her first musical number, as she preps an argument while navigating the streets of Mexico City, the film reveals its musical dimension, easing the audience in but immediately showcasing Saldana’s immense talent. It’s a fresh approach, with choreography blending seamlessly into scenes of Rita typing away on her laptop — no one has brought this much energy to legal proceedings, and I’m here for it.  Emilia Pérez may not be the first movie to mix the cartel genre with musical and telenovela elements, but it’s certainly unique. This fusion of styles might not have been on anyone’s bingo card, but the final product is undeniable. It is a compelling story paired with musical drama that peaks in surprising yet captivating ways. The production design is also remarkable, truly popping during the musical numbers, where Audiard’s vision brings life to each song and dance.
One of the most memorable musical scenes centers around Rita and Emilia at a fundraiser dinner. The room is almost entirely in shadow except for the people sitting at the tables. Rita dances around them and uses some of the guests as props in her dance. The lyrics have a lot of narrative influence, and they get to the heart of the duality of conflict. They are raising money to help with their non-profit that assists in locating missing people to give families closure. However, the people at the dinner are often directly or indirectly associated with the cartels that have led to the need for the foundation in the first place. This irony eats at Rita, and she can no longer contain the emotions, which burst out through song and dance. The number perfectly captures her moral struggle, making it one of the film’s most poignant moments. Saldana isn’t the only standout, either. Gascon delivers an incredible performance, showcasing a full range of emotions: heartbreak, joy, fear, excitement, and more. Gascon’s performance is star-making, bringing depth and vulnerability to her role. While Selena Gomez’s character doesn’t get quite as much screen time, she shines in her musical scenes, especially her first number, which features some very cool visuals and choreography. There’s a case to be made for going into a movie with no prior knowledge — it sometimes enhances the experience by leaving room for surprises. I went into Emilia Pérez with very little information, and I couldn’t have predicted just how much this movie would work for me. The unexpected fusion of genres makes this movie a cinematic delight, with standout performances, vibrant production, and unforgettable musical numbers. These pieces combine to make a cinematic stew that we are all fortunate to feast upon. It’s not a film to skip. Emilia Pérez will be in theaters on November 1. Rating: 4.5/5 Review by Jonathan Berk  Writer and director Niclas Larsson's film Mother, Couch is an anxiety-inducing examination of family issues delivered by a stellar cast. Larsson thrusts the audience into the film's surreal world, primarily set in an antiquated furniture store. It's a jarring experience that will make audiences question whether they missed the beginning of the film, but it establishes the tone that will carry through for the entirety. Ewan McGregor is at this furniture store with his estranged brother, played by Rhys Ifans, and their elderly mother, Ellen Burstyn, takes a seat on a couch and refuses to leave. The store is run by Taylor Russell and her father, F. Murray Abraham, and becomes an odd place to hash out the family baggage. The brothers call their sister, Lara Flynn Boyle, to come and help them figure out what to do about their mother. McGregor's character is working through many issues. He performs really well in this chaotic role. He is the anchor for all of the story elements, and each character has some connection to him. The film's ticking clock is McGregor getting to his daughter's birthday party. His wife, played by Lake Bell, is calling and inquiring when he'll arrive, but he can't abandon his mother despite how awful she is towards him.  Burstyn delivers this cruel, biting performance as the family's matriarch. She has to give a big performance while mostly sitting on a couch, which she does expertly. The writing adds to the experience, but the same lines said by someone less capable wouldn't have the punch they do here. Of course, it's also the reactions to the words that help sell the overall idea.
Boyle and Ifans get some solid moments as well. The three siblings have an interesting past that's explored throughout the film. However, Russell and Abraham make the most of their screen time. They act as the keepers of the reality the characters find themselves in and offer sagelike advice or throw threatening commentary on the actions of these strangers invading their space. The decision to make this story a little more surreal adds to both the tone and the creativity. Several scenes allow for aesthetically interesting visuals. The staging of the furniture store mirrors the rooms of a house, lending to the exploration of our character's past. The metaphors the film is working with allow it to hit its visual stride later on. The third act, in particular, really makes the most of the odd reality the characters find themselves living in and will push the audience's willingness to accept it or storm out angry. All of these elements mix reasonably well, but they don't make for an enjoyable experience. It's hard to watch Mother, Couch and not be reminded of Ari Aster's Beau is Afraid — another film that sought to make its audience uncomfortable, but one that executes the approach a little bit better. Still, Niclas Larsson's film is well-made and gets its idea across enough to make it worth watching. Mother, Couch will be in theaters on July 5. Rating: 3.5/5 |