Review by Joseph Fayed Starting college and moving to a new country are two of the biggest adjustments one can make to their life. Add in conflicting career goals and meeting your first love interest, and you have described nearly everyone in the 18-25 age demographic. In that way, Montréal Girls is a coming-of-age film from familiar territory. Ramy, an aspiring poet, has arrived in Montreal to begin medical school. His cousin introduces him to hidden subcultures within the city, where he meets two women. Shortly thereafter, Ramy immerses himself in his poetry and begins to feel torn between two different lives: the one he wants and the one his parents would be most proud of. Ramy's journey is not one of self-discovery, nor does he live vicariously through other characters. The film's biggest flaw is not distinguishing itself between the two. Very early on, Ramy grows disinterested with medicine, and it's revealed his natural talent has been poetry. Despite what appears to be a major conflict of interest from his father, Ramy is attempting to do both for most of the film. The core of the story is that Ramy has always known that being a poet is his calling. Ramy is written as having made up his mind well before he has to make a formal decision at the film's climax. Not much is built up between Ramy and those closest to him either, leaving two key character arcs uncertain. The titular Montreal girls, Yaz and Desiree, serve nothing more than eye candy for Ramy. Every moment they are on screen is coated in Ramy flirting with at least one of them. Neither of them progress past being friends with benefits, and that is their whole arc. Of the two, Yaz is the one who has a moment in the film where she mentions trying to overcome her past, like Ramy is doing. This one line of dialogue, had the film not already been half over, could have provided some much-needed depth to her character. Ironically, Desiree has a forgettable argument with Ramy about not wanting to be used as filler for his and Yaz's potential fling. These subplots are eclipsed by Ramy's poetry and his struggles to admit his true passion, so their resolutions don't matter at the end.
Montréal Girls is a misnomer. They simply appear in the background, as our protagonist simply declares his dreams. There's nothing wrong with a character doing that, but it is misleading to those who thought Ramy, Yaz, or Desiree would have to go through the motions of carrying that out. Ramy's poetry and this screenplay also have something in common: they both lack much needed substance. Montréal Girls is now playing in theaters and hits VOD on June 27. Rating: 1/5
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Review by Joseph Fayed Every human needs a support system in their lives. We all need financial, physical, or emotional assistance in one way or another, and having the same group of those who provide us that support is crucial. You Hurt My Feelings tells a story of how a white lie can disrupt that and cause us to rethink everything we believed. Beth (Julia Louis-Dreyfus) has just finished writing her latest novel. She and her husband Don, a therapist, have a falling out over Don revealing that he has never really liked any of her work. Both Beth and Don seem to be struggling in their careers. The two begin to doubt themselves, much to the chagrin of their son Elliot. Meanwhile, Beth's sister Sarah notices parallels of her and her husband's lives with Beth and Don's. On paper, Beth and Don seemingly have everything. The script makes subtle notes of their interactions and how they have covered up every aspect of themselves to everyone else. Deep down, both of them are miserable. Still, there tends to be a charming tone to this couple. Mixed in with dry humor all across the film, the two are written as realizing both are equally at fault for how they acted. The white lie Don told Beth is equivalent to a 93-minute argument. It's well paced enough that its simple premise focuses on how and why Beth and Don have been living a lie both professionally and personally. The film also does a good job at showing how self-doubt increases even without discovering your partner hasn't been honest with you. Sarah and her husband Mark are the more hilarious counterparts to Beth and Don. Sarah has grown sick of her career as an interior designer. Mark is a struggling actor whose career has been full of highs and lows. They are framed as comedic filler, as neither of them can catch a break. Elliot, Beth and Don's son who wants to become a playwright, feels the most out of place. He feels shoehorned into a film that otherwise naturally reveals the pitfalls of telling someone how good they are when they really aren't. However, he doesn't fall down the rabbit hole of the young son who resents his parents for how they supposedly wronged him growing up, so that was refreshing to see.
You Hurt My Feelings tackles a nuanced subject in a prolonged narrative, and it works. The cast has great chemistry that holds together every scene. The dialogue is pretty funny at times, and the script's unconventional approach of making fun of something we've all been guilty of before sets this above other comedy-dramas about upper middle class white women for upper middle class white women. Good to know they finally have an A24 film to worship. You Hurt My Feelings hits theaters on May 26. Rating: 3.5/5 Review by Joseph Fayed European cinema tends to be very upfront with their openness towards erotica. The same can be applied to Europe in general, and it's why the erotic thriller genre is so much more common overseas. The few American attempts worth acknowledging don't seem to leverage the balance between lust and control very well. The new film Sanctuary tries to bridge that gap with a focus on more than just promiscuity. The film follows Hal, a hotel heir who wants to end his longstanding relationship with his dominatrix, Rebecca. Hal breaks the news during one of their sessions. The two struggle to end things their own way for the first time since they met. Ulterior motives to their relationship are unearthed as the two realize neither of them will leave the other without being unscathed. Many viewers may be surprised to discover that the film has very few sex scenes, and none of them are very explicit. That may hinder one's arousal, but the leads still have more to do than just each other. As the only two characters, Hal and Rebecca have our full attention. Their dominance they each think they have gained over each other is established early on. It just isn't seen through an opening montage of steamy sex scenes. But that doesn't mean there is a delay in finding out what arouses Hal or Rebecca and how it's acted upon. Christopher Abbott and Margaret Qualley make their characters and their egos come to life. All around their performances is depicted what clients and sex workers usually experience: dread. That doesn't make the film anti-sex work, but it does mean that the tension that develops between the two of them quickly spirals out of control inside the penthouse suite. Ending a longstanding business relationship is never straightforward, even if it involves foreplay. Both Hal and Rebecca are uptight people despite their different class upbringings. Their characterization makes that very apparent, and it doesn't stem from any sexual desires.
Sanctuary shows us how two adults may react when sex no longer becomes gratifying. The best part about the film is that it presents sex for what it ultimately is: a two-way street. We learn what the two gave up to reach this point, without diving too far into either of their pasts at the expense of the other protagonist. It becomes more of a thriller with less erotic elements, and manages to reach a satisfying conclusion for the back and forth nature of this cat and mouse game. What's sexier than that? Not Margaret Qualley's blonde wig, that's for sure. Sanctuary is now playing in theaters. Rating: 4/5 Review by Joseph Fayed There is almost no social commentary about religion that has yet to be made in a film. Sexual orientation and the oppressive religious narrative surrounding it tends to be one of the common plots filmmakers have used in recent years. You Can Live Forever tackles that subject with care, even if it feels like the message has been repeated many times already. Teenager Jaime is sent to live in a Jehovah's Witness community in Canada. Soon after, she meets Marike and becomes smitten with her. When the two realize they can't keep their feelings for each other a secret any longer, the whole world surrounding their faith begins to crumble. Denial isn't just a river in Egypt. Religion typically doesn't make sense from an outsider's perspective. Films and other media that portray the protagonist as an outcast — like Jaime initially is when moving in with her religious Aunt and Uncle — often empathize with the protagonist in a way that makes the other characters seem delusional. The Jehovahs in this film aren't a parody. Instead, the film serves as an opportunity to shed light on how a Jehovah's teenager can live two completely different lifestyles simultaneously. Our two lead performers allow their characters to be multifaceted. As teenagers, they also playfully act as though with their youth and environment that they are still figuring out their relationship status. In other films, I would consider this annoying and poorly written. But this film has embraced its youthful characters, particularly Marike, for being layered. Marike's faith is obviously a large part of who she is as a person. She even quotes at one point in the film that her interest in Jaime is like being tested by God, which is the biggest question left to answer.
There are no miracles in You Can Live Forever. No one from the closeted teenage lesbians to the sheltered Jehovah's can truly articulate why. Anyone with an ounce of knowledge of Jehovah's Witness knows why Jamie and Marike's relationship would be frowned upon. Convincing an adult Jehovah's Witness is nearly impossible, but this film adequately explores how complex a teenager still discovering themselves must feel. Self-discovery doesn't occur overnight, which is why I think the third act works very well. Jamie and Marike are polar opposites in this sense, and they seem like the perfect match at first until they're not. Societal structures such as religious institutions can redefine a relationship. There is no turning back on that, and this film's conclusion sets that up well. The biggest lesson learned here is that even Canadians aren't safe from being handed pamphlets at their doorsteps. You Can Live Forever is now in theaters and on VOD. Rating: 4/5 Review by Joseph Fayed The Eight Mountains had its premiere at Cannes last year, where it won the Jury Prize. To some degree, I understand why it would have been awarded that honor. But for a film that deals with the passage of time, there were parts of this long-term friendship that should have been left on the cutting room floor. Pietro is a young boy who goes on holiday to the Italian Alps with his parents. While there, he meets Bruno, a boy around his age who is working on his family's farm. The two begin a friendship, but as Pietro begins school, the two fade apart. Many years later, after Pietro's father dies, he discovers he has inherited an old shack in the village. He also learns his father grew close to Bruno, who agrees to help him transform the shack. The story is divided into three acts: one recounting the protagonist's childhood, an update on their teenage/college years, and their adulthood when they reconnect. Their adulthood gets the most focus, showing what has changed for the two men over the years. One course of action the film takes is to highlight the connection to the Alps Bruno has always had, while showcasing what Pietro has made for himself in the city. While younger and older versions of the two leads are shown heavily, there is a significant gap in flashbacks showing how Bruno stayed put in the village in his teenage years. The film is slowly-paced and lets the two catch up as adults, so not spending enough time on this period in Bruno's life doesn't make sense. The last act shows how Bruno and Pietro deal with their lives going in opposite directions. One positive thing the clumsy narrative did right was set up a fitting conclusion. This is prompted by the supporting characters, who don't have much to do or say on their own, allowing the two leads to become more developed. Other than that, it seems roughly half of the film is long takes of the Italian Alps and characters climbing them.
The Eight Mountains is the story of friendship lost to time and the Alps. Much like the Italian Alps, it takes a long time to reach its peak. Its protagonists are simply not interesting enough to watch two and a half hours of. It wraps itself up well, but that is only after quite some time of going back and forth between narratives that would have worked better in different films. Maybe the jury at Cannes last year was too in awe of the impressive cinematography, I certainly was at various points while watching this. The Eight Mountains is now playing in theaters. Rating: 2/5 Review by Joseph Fayed Beau Is Afraid is the third feature from Ari Aster. After earning praise for his first two horror flicks, Aster returns to the genre with another story dealing heavily with trauma. This time, however, Aster incorporates some dark humor within his film. This results in a spectacle of performances on screen that — no matter the context — will leave you engaged. Beau (Joaquin Phoenix) is a man who grew up without a father and now has a strained relationship with his mother. Paranoid of his surroundings, Beau embarks on a trip to be reunited with his mother on his parents' wedding anniversary. The trip does not go as Beau imagined, and many hijinks occur along the way. Beau has many reasons to be afraid. In the series of events that transpire, Beau's weaknesses are exploited, and there is fear for how easily his life can be in danger. The horror elements are as strong as ever, but so are the humorous elements to this dark comedy. Familial trauma — a staple of Aster's films — is never as straightforward as it seems in real life. Mix this in with rejection, and the film highlights the absurdity of such trauma, even in its unorthodox approach to the theme. The film is visually stunning. Every bright color is beautifully contrasted with darker lighting during more intense moments on screen. The most notable part of the film is a detailed animated sequence that takes Beau's journey in an unexpected direction. The art style used makes it feel like I was watching something entirely different. While Aster's previous film Midsommar had the advantage of being filmed entirely outdoors for its sequences, this one clearly had the budget to make up for its lack of natural scenery.
Joaquin Phoenix knows how to play unhinged and/or depressed characters well. Since Beau is not a character who wears his emotions on his sleeve, Phoenix can convincingly show Beau reaching his breaking point at various moments. Zoe Lister-Jones and Patti LuPone both steal their scenes as the younger and older versions of Beau's mother. Beau's mother is a very secretive person, and as we learn more about her repressed feelings towards her son, the story is able to come full circle. Beau Is Afraid is a new take on family trauma, a familiar element in Ari Aster's filmography. There is a good balance of humor and terror, so that the nearly three-hour runtime doesn't feel oversaturated with either of those. If you're looking for every hidden message or metaphor to be deciphered, I wouldn't recommend watching this. It seemed like I was sitting through a one of a kind nightmare where I couldn't tell the difference between truth or fantasy. I suppose if I enjoyed this, maybe Ari Aster and I both need to be enrolled in therapy. Perhaps a group session, so that I could pick at his mind a little bit. Beau is Afraid is now playing in theaters. Rating: 4/5 Review by Joseph Fayed As the film's tagline, "nothing is by accident" suggests, everything seems to happen for a reason. In Black Bags, we quickly learn that to be the case. What starts as a mystery unraveling around the accidental switch up of two suitcases onboard a bus loses focus and has a tonal shift that leaves viewers with an underwhelming ending. The plot follows two women on a bus trip. Tess and Sara have identical black suitcases and set off a dangerous cat and mouse game when one discovers she’s swapped her bag with a killer’s. As they try to outsmart each other at every turn, deadly secrets are revealed. They learn that their meeting may not have been accidental, and they have more in common than they think. The first act does a good job at introducing our hapless protagonist Tess. There are no dead giveaways on the surprises ahead, but both Tess and our antagonist Sara have their characters established within the first act. A bit of cheesy dialogue aside, nothing holds the film back from reaching its climax. From there, suspense finally sets in, and through the use of flashbacks, we are told why Sara demands her suitcase back. While the question on everyone's minds is what Tess and Sara will do to each other, or — more importantly — what will happen to the suitcase, neither of those questions matter during the film's act. This is not due to a subplot or anything like that, it's because the story fizzles out once its climax is seemingly resolved. Any ounce of the cat and mouse game promised at the start turns into a Lifetime-esque movie of the week captured by on set lighting that looks straight out of a daytime soap opera. Leaving the story off with an uncertain ending 30 minutes prior would have been less frustrating than trying to wrap it up the way it did.
Not every thriller needs twist after twist, but the beginning, middle, and end of your story can't feel like they are dragging on and that you have exhausted all possibilities with your plot. Decent performances hold this thriller together. I can't help but wonder if this would have been better paced had this been an hour long episode of an anthology series. Black Bags unpacks all it has to offer, but overstays its welcome. The ending is quite unremarkable, which is never a good sign for a film that hopes to evoke shock and suspense. Black Bags is now on VOD. Rating: 2.5/5 Review by Joseph Fayed Reed Harkness always enjoyed making films with his younger brother Sam growing up. His films preserved collective memories of their lives together. Sam Now uses that footage plus new material from the last two decades to solve a family mystery and acknowledge the ripple effects it has had on everyone involved. The documentary begins with an explanation that Jois Harkness — step mother of Reed — suddenly disappeared from her family's lives around the year 2000. There were mixed reactions all around, but her two youngest sons were left grieving the most. Reed and Sam decide to hit the road to find Jois and begin to try to resolve issues that stem from Jois's abandonment. The documentary is very well shot and is almost like a love letter to Sam, while addressing some of the emotional hardships he has faced throughout his life. When Sam pours his heart out and shares his true feelings, he makes for a captivating protagonist. His mother walking out of his life clearly left a gap inside him that is well explained by Sam himself. Over the years, Sam has had conflicted feelings about his mother's role in his life. Much of the family is still uncomfortable talking about Jois too. The independence Sam was forced to form and his struggles with codependency have become a part of him. We get to see enough of Sam pre- and post- Jois’s disappearance to have everything come full circle for him. There is a special kind of touch that is added to a documentary like this, when the director is the one filming his own family's reunion. There is one moment where the youngest brother Jared writes a letter to his mother and Reed, who advises him to do so because he can't make the trip to track her down. There is no outsider's perspective that interrupts the story unfolding in front of this family. Since Dear Zachary, I have not seen a documentary where the family's involvement in the film has done more than have them be talking heads.
The central mystery about Jois’s whereabouts is solved, but that is not what brings the story closure. This documentary focuses on healing from loss and the dangers of choosing your own path. One decision can fundamentally change the lives of many forever, and Sam Now explores that while recognizing that trauma isn't resolved swiftly with time passing by. Sam Now is now playing in theaters. Rating: 4/5 Review by Joseph Fayed Stories involving grooming or any type of uncomfortable age gap between romantic partners tend not to capture the complicated feelings and pressures one involved in this type of relationship is inclined to feel. Palm Trees and Power Lines seems to be one of the exceptions and serves as a cautionary tale for many youth. The film follows Lea, a teenager living in California who has a chance encounter with an older man named Tom. The two secretly begin a relationship that for various reasons begins to unravel and brings tension into Lea's life. The film is based on a short film previously made by writer-director Jamie Dack. Despite the implications of the relationship at its core, there is a method to the storytelling that allows you to see the protagonist Lea roll with the punches for most of the screen time. Her innocence and vulnerability define her character and Tom allows both of those to be socially isolated all to himself. Tom instills a false sense of hope, and her newfound satisfaction allows her to turn a blind eye to what is really going on. Lily McInerny, who plays Lea, gives an impressive film debut here. Jonathan Tucker, who plays Tom, really sinks his teeth into his role. The two lead performances accelerate how naiveté and manipulation intersect when it comes to grooming. While the end result may be depressing to some, it's the power dynamic built upon trust and lies that leads us to a sorrowful conclusion. And it sadly does not feature Chris Hansen of To Catch a Predator fame.
When we do see Lea interacting with others like her friends or her mostly distant mom, we begin to see her grow more detached from anyone who isn't Tom. One scene features a concerned woman approaching Lea to ask if she's okay while out with Tom on a date. It doesn't feel so out of place when Lea watches her life spiral out of control and realize that a giant red flag has been waving at her for weeks. Palm Trees and Power Lines is a retelling of a tragic tale of tainted love. I wouldn't consider it groundbreaking by any means, but it does tell a series of events in a short timespan where there isn't much self-reflection going on in the life of our young protagonist. Lea is still figuring out her own life and the film doesn't cast any judgment on her for that, which I appreciated. Palm Trees and Power Lines is now in theaters and on VOD. Rating: 3.5/5 Review by Joseph Fayed Continuing a beloved television series as a film carries some risks. In the case of the BBC series Luther, season long mysteries being condensed into just two hours for Luther: The Fallen Sun has its shortcomings, but the heart and soul of the series still feels very much alive. Following the events of season five of Luther, DCI John Luther (Idris Elba) returns in a very different environment than where we have seen him before, as an inmate behind bars. Meanwhile, a sadistic serial killer is on the loose, and when the killer begins to taunt Luther, he hatches a plan to escape prison and do what he does best, bring a killer to justice. At its core, the film feels like how the television series would play out. The main antagonist does the unthinkable, and as their motives get revealed, Luther, aided by his allies who become increasingly wary of him as time goes on, pursues the killer. The running theme between both is that John Luther puts his job before anything else. Luther's commitments and how he can't easily move on from any case are the best part of his character, and allow for a cat and mouse game between him and whichever killer he's facing off against. It is good that the film ultimately stuck to the roots of what worked about the series and didn't try to make a soft reboot of sorts. Idris Elba is as good as always, again donning his signature coat as DCI John Luther. He allows Luther to be afraid of nobody, but he can easily identify and calm the fears of others. Elba's acting serves as a good reminder that John Luther is a detective for a reason. Andy Serkis, who plays the tech billionaire turned serial killer who Luther goes after, unfortunately doesn't lean into how sadistic and unapologetic he could be. It may be due to time restraints of the film, but I wish there was much of him being unremorseful as there was of him committing heinous crimes.
Anyone eager to see the return of John Luther should give Luther: The Fallen Sun a watch. While almost none of the previous plot lines from season five of the BBC series are addressed, the start of this new story is not very different from how each of the previous seasons have begun, with a killer on the loose. Although the tactics and criminal pursuit that normally draw detectives and killers together tend to be overshadowed here, Luther: The Fallen Sun does one thing the series did right: include lots of Idris Elba. Luther: The Fallen Sun is now playing in theaters and hits Netflix on March 10. Rating: 3.5/5 |
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