Review: Sound Of Falling

Image courtesy of MUBI.

It would be safe to call Mascha Schilinski's compelling but complicated "Sound of Falling" a ghost story. It's not a horror movie by any stretch of the imagination and the ghosts haunting the singular location - an old house in Germany's Altmark region - in which it is set are those of the past.

Set during at least four different periods - and I phrase it this way because the film is nonlinear and we are often not sure when we've passed from one moment in time to another, other than the fact that the characters change - "Sound of Falling" is a movie that really makes you work for it.

The first period is some point in the 1910s at the house, which is being used as a farm and as some sort of mortician's business (either that, or this family just happens to have a lot of dead people lying around at any given time). This section is from the perspective of a young girl named Alma (Hanna Heckt), who spends a lot of time spying on people through keyholes, especially her older brother, Fritz (Filip Schnack), who becomes an invalid during an accident and spends much of the rest of the film in various states of undress while bedridden.

In the 1940s section, which is the one that actually opens the film, a young woman named Erika (Lea Drinda) stares at a nude man under a blanket with a missing leg - who, it turns out, is an older version of Fritz) - when she's supposed to be tending to the farm's pigs with her father.

As the film skips around, we land on a 1980s-era story in which teenage Angelika (Lena Urzendowsky) visits her aunt and uncle at the farmhouse. Angelika is free spirited and sexually provocative, which captures not only the attention of a male cousin, but also her uncle, Uwe (Konstantin Lindhorst).

In the present day, the farmhouse and other parts of the property have been converted into apartment units, and the story involves a young girl, Lenka (Laeni Geiseler), and her obsession with an attractive and depressive friend, Kaya (Ninel Geiger).

One of the film's most consistent aspects is its intense sound design - which includes floorboards creaking, the wind howling, flies buzzing, and a strange muffled tone that sounds close to white noise. At times, the film is straightforward, especially Angelika's escapades, while others border on the surreal - the film's transfixing final shot is a perfect example of this. 

Strewn throughout are gorgeously memorable shots - a young woman lying down in front of an approaching tractor, children running through tunnels made of straw, and a children's game in a barn that increasingly becomes unclear whether supernatural forces are at play or whether the children are just very good at pretending.

The eras blend together and there's only a stray clue to let us know when the current action is taking place - clothing or, in one instance, Bluetooth headphones. During the 1940s section, there's a brief sequence in which a character or two visiting the farm might be attempting to recruit Fritz for World War I, while a mention of East and West Berlin during the 1980s section is so fleeting that you'll miss it if you blink.

This is a film that requires the audience to put in some work to follow everything that is going on. It is not what one might call an easy sit, and what you take out of it will probably be determined by how much effort you put in. It is a film that, at just over two-and-a-half hours, probably could have been a bit shorter and delivered the same effect.

"Sound of Falling" was one of last year's Cannes Film Festival's critical hits. While I didn't feel as strongly about it as some of the other Cannes selections - such as "Sirat," "Sentimental Value," "It Was Just an Accident," or "The Secret Agent" - it's an impressively made movie that moves at its own pace and relies heavily on vibes. It's equally mysterious and maddening but those who are willing to give themselves over to its peculiar wavelength will likely find it to be a unique experience.

Review: Send Help

Image courtesy of 20th Century Fox.

 

“Send Help” is a solid return to horror filmmaking for director Sam Raimi, who hasn’t made a genre movie of this type since 2009’s “Drag Me to Hell.”

The picture has a premise that might seem overly familiar – especially for those who saw Ruben Ostlund’s 2022 film “Triangle of Sadness” – but its lead performance and its increased intensity and over-the-top wackiness make it an overall enjoyable viewing experience.

In the film, Rachel McAdams plays Linda Liddle, an overly earnest and good-natured office drone whose awkward attempts at socialization make her the object of ridicule at the corporate hellscape where she works. The company’s previous owner, who recognized Linda’s accounting talents and had planned to promote her, dies, leaving his asshole son, Bradley (Dylan O’Brien), in charge.

Linda tries – awkwardly – to ingratiate herself to Bradley, but he’s having none of it, instead choosing to ogle women who visit the office and elevating his frat-type corporate bros to positions of power – Xavier Samuel’s Donovan gets the vice president role that Linda was originally promised.

After Linda confronts him in his office, Bradley allows her to attend a company trip to Thailand, but the plane malfunctions and crashes – one awful character from Linda’s office gets dispatched in a particularly nasty way – in the ocean. Linda drifts to an island, where she finds Bradley – who’s injured – to be the only other survivor.

Much like Ostlund’s film, “Send Help” finds the underdog character – Linda – in charge, mostly due to her survival skills. Earlier in the picture, we see survivalist books on her apartment’s shelf and we learn that she’s a “Survivor” enthusiast, which is yet another tool in her tormentors’ toolkit once they find out about it.

While Linda thrives in the atmosphere of the island, Bradley is mostly reliant on her. The tables are quickly turned after he tries to remind her that he’s still her boss, and she lets him know that the old rules no longer exist on the island.

But then, the story takes a strange turn. Linda and Bradley actually start to get along and seemingly enjoy one another’s company – at least, that’s how it seems. At various points, the characters are obviously questioning whether they can trust each other – and for good reason.

Things take another turn and the film becomes increasingly violent – a final series of battles are especially grotesque, and there’s even a plot twist involving discoveries on the island. But while the film heads more into horror territory in the finale, it’s still handled with a tongue planted firmly in cheek – and the occasional finger in the eye socket or knife in the ribs. This is, after all, a Raimi film.

While Raimi had veered far from his filmmaking origins in recent years to make numerous comic book movies and a “Wizard of Oz” prequel, it’s great to see him return to the type of filmmaking on which he originally cut his teeth.

His first two “Evil Dead” movies remain staples of the genre and I recall enjoying “Drag Me to Hell.” Although “Send Help” isn’t in the same vein – there’s nothing supernatural about it – it’s still a welcome return for this filmmaker.

And McAdams – whose character begins as a caricature but increasingly unveils surprising depths – gives one of 2026’s first memorable performances. Last year was a very good one for the horror genre – and this film, along with “28 Years Later: The Bone Temple,” suggests that this year could be a strong one too.

Review: The Testament Of Ann Lee

Image courtesy of Searchlight Pictures.

The husband-wife team of Brady Corbet and Mona Fastvold are becoming one of the most intriguing duos in cinema. They both collaborated on Corbet's first three films, reaching a creative peak with 2024's remarkable "The Brutalist," and now they have collaborated for the second time on a film (the first was the mostly unseen "The Sleepwalkers") directed by Fastvold, who has also made a total of three other films.  

If nothing else, "The Testament of Ann Lee" is a fastidiously researched, gorgeously shot, ambitious, strange, and well performed - especially Amanda Seyfried as the titular character - film about a, shall we say, enthusiastic religious movement. Characters randomly break out into song or, when touched by the spirit, begin to screech or make grunting noises as they beat themselves on the chest. There are few other films like it. 

At the film's beginning, Lee is a young woman in Manchester, England in the 1700s who takes on a leadership role in her church and, much to its leaders' chagrin, becomes a female priest. Her leadership in the Shakers movement brings her and some of her most ardent followers to America around the time of the American revolution.

The Shakers believed that God created humans in his image and, therefore, the second coming of Christ could be embodied by a woman. Given her tendency to have visions, Lee's followers believe she might be the one. And after losing all four of her children, she decides that the movement should not practice sexuality or intimacy of any kind, giving themselves over to God completely.

The film works mostly because of its offbeat nature and stunning cinematography, but more so due to Seyfried's almost otherworldly performance. If there's a critique to be made, it's that none of the characters - including Lee - are given much in the way of development. We see that Lee learns to dislike intimacy early in life after watching her parents have sex and we observe her religious fervor - but that's basically everything to which we are privy. None of the other characters are developed much either.

"The Brutalist" was my favorite movie of 2024, and it established Brady and Fastvold as one of the most exciting pairs working in film. This latest pairing is a film that is more to be admired than loved, but it's impressive nonetheless. And Seyfried gives a performance that ranks among her best and that should have been recognized in this week's Academy Award nominations. This is an ambitious film that mostly succeeds but doesn't reach the heights of its creators' previous collaboration.

Review: Dead Man's Wire

Image courtesy of Row K Entertainment

 

Gus Van Sant's first feature in seven years is a throwback to the gritty type of dramas, thrillers, and character studies that were considered mainstream in the 1970s. Set in 1977, "Dead Man's Wire" is a hostage story that bears some similarity to Sidney Lumet's "Dog Day Afternoon," although it's not set at a bank and the circumstances of the man at the center of the drama are different.

Based on a true story that took place in Indianapolis, Tony Kiritsis (Bill Skarsgard) is a desperate man who fell behind on mortgage payments for a property that he intended to turn into an affordable shopping center for merchants and, as a result, was denied by his mortgage broker, M.L. Hall (Al Pacino) and his son, Richard (Dacre Montgomery).

Kiritsis became enraged after he suspected that the mortgage company attempted to defraud him by allowing the land go into foreclosure and buying it for less than its market value. On a February day, he stopped by the mortgage company's office and, upon finding out that M.L. was on vacation, took his son as a hostage, affixing him with a "dead man's wire," which was connected to a shotgun that would kill the person to whom it was attached if there are sudden movements.

Tony makes a spectacle of the hostage situation, parading Richard in front of police down the street and then stealing one of their cars, which he drives back to his apartment, where much of the rest of the film takes place. Holed up in the apartment, Tony begins making demands - an apology from M.L., a payment of $5 million, and a written promise from the district attorney not to prosecute him - and decides to call in to this favorite disc jockey, Fred Temple (Colman Domingo), who becomes involved by trying to keep Kiritsis calm.

"Dead Man's Wire" doesn't exactly go anywhere that you wouldn't expect for a film of its type, other than the surprising outpouring of sympathy that Tony - who comes off as slightly unhinged - gets from the public. The trial that makes up the very end of the picture brings this wild scenario to a conclusion that, due to what has come before, won't exactly surprise you.

The performances are pretty solid across the board, and Van Sant and company have done a great job of capturing the visual style of the era in which it is set. Everything from the lighting and camerawork help to create the sense that even before he took a hostage, Kiritsis' life was a bleak existence in which he was trapped by his financial situation.

It's great to see Van Sant back behind the camera. Even if this isn't one of his best features, it's still pretty good. The director is one of the best examples of a filmmaker who juggles solid mainstream fare ("Milk" and "Good Will Hunting") with indie filmmaking ("Elephant," "My Own Private Idaho," and "Drugstore Cowboy"). "Dead Man's Wire" somewhat bridges the gap - it feels like a low budget indie drama but isn't nearly as experimental as some of Van Sant's most celebrated work. Overall, it's a solid crime drama about the haves and have-nots that provides some subtle commentary on our current state of existence.

Review: Resurrection

Image courtesy of Janus Films.

A valuable lesson in filmmaking: Just because something worked once doesn't mean it will yield the same results each time. This certainly applies to Bi Gan's "Resurrection," the director's first picture since 2009's dreamy and transfixing "Long Day's Journey Into Night," a film that used dream logic to tell a twisty, noir-like story.

The director's previous efforts - the naturalistic "Kaili Blues" and the visionary "Long Day's Journey Into Night" - announced the arrival of a major filmmaker. "Resurrection" certainly lives up to the ambition that one might expect from the director. It's a two-hour-and-40-minute dreamscape filled with some of the most mesmerizing imagery you're likely to see this year.

But while "Long Day's Journey," much like the most fascinating dreams or best surrealistic films, wasn't entirely meant to be comprehended, the viewer was well rewarded for giving in to its dream-like logic. "Resurrection," on the other hand just feels confusing, disorienting, and hard to follow, despite it being filled with some breathtaking shots.

The film, which opens in a movie theater in which the picture's audience is staring out at the audience watching it, is set in a future in which imagination - or to be more exact, dreams - are in peril. Humans have discovered that the lack of dreams leads to immortality - later in the film, these people are represented as actual vampires - but a subset known as the "deliriants" continues to dream, knowing that in response their lives will be shorter.

The movie follows the story of a deliriant played by Chinese pop star and actor Jackson Yee who goes from dream to dream after a woman (Shu Qi) places a film projector inside him. From there, I can't logically fit all of the film's various narratives together until the end, when the deliriant goes up against a group of gangster vampires.

Regardless that the film is challenging to follow narratively - and feels a bit too long, as opposed to "Long Day's Journey," which was long but did not feel so - it is filled with stunning cinematography (a long tracking shot through a rainy, muddy alleyway) and captivating scenes (a shootout in a hall of mirrors). There's also a subplot about a con artist and the young girl who he enlists to help him cheat people at cards. 

Gan is a talented director with a clear vision, even if this time it didn't translate as well - at least, for me. This film is nothing if not ambitious - it's a science fiction movie, a surrealistic dreamscape, at times a monster movie, a crime drama, a noir, and a romance. It is also, if one is to consider that the film opens and closes in a movie theater (the final shot is among its best), a movie that compares the experience of cinema to a dream. But while Gan's previous two films were ones to love, this is one more to admire, if not fully endorse.

Review: No Other Choice

Image courtesy of Neon.

It's hard out there for job seekers and the unemployed, a theme that Park Chan-wook's latest film, "No Other Choice," which is the second adaptation Costa Gavras' 2005 picture "The Axe," explores to brutal and occasionally hilarious ends.

The film starts out as upbeat - paper industry manager Man-su (Lee Byung-hun) lives in a gorgeous house that once belonged to his father and that he has now bought, refurbishing it and even adding his own greenhouse (he's obsessed with plants). He has a supportive and loving wife, Mi-ri (Son Ye-jin), two children - a cello prodigy daughter and somewhat delinquent teenage son - and two big fluffy dogs.

But his life quickly takes a turn when an American company with intentions of substituting A.I. for workers purchases his Korean one and he is among those to get laid off. He spends months searching for a job to no avail, his unemployment runs out, and Mi-ri has a blunt conversation with the family about everything they'll have to give up - the dogs (who will stay with her parents), various extracurricular activities, Netflix (the sound of the channel being turned on moments later elicited a laugh from the audience with which I saw it), and possibly even the house.

Out of fear and desperation that he'll lose all he has, Man-su realizes that the only way that he will survive is if he literally eliminates his competition in the seemingly cutthroat world of the Korean paper industry. This plan starts out comically. His first attempt to bump off a competitor is the most hilariously botched murder attempt since the hitman's spree at the office in "Mulholland Drive." Seriously, I don't know if I laughed harder at any other movie scene this year, with the possible exception of the removal of snake bite venom that is also in this movie.

But the film increasingly gets darker as he begins to stalk a second victim - a former paper industry leader fallen on hard times who now sells shoes - and then a third, a heavy-drinking young man who tempts Man-su back toward the bottle (it is hinted at that he's a former alcoholic). Meanwhile, Mi-ri and Man-su's son, who has some crime-related problems of his own, begin to get suspicious.

Despite the film beginning to feel more like a dark thriller in its final third, "No Other Choice" remains one of Park's most accessible and least gruesome films to date. Keep in mind that he's the director of the bleak "Oldboy" and the violent "Sympathy for Mr. Vengeance." It is also his best film to date, both due to the terrific performances of its cast and its incredible visual style. Park knows where to point a camera and so many of the shots have a gorgeous, painterly quality to them.

2025 was a very strong year for world cinema and Park's latest ranks high among the best foreign language films. Last year was also a very political year for the movies, and "No Other Choice" is one of the year's angriest, which is evident in its final shots over the credits in which A.I. is used to chop down treats, cut paper, and completely operate in a factory with hardly any workers to be seen. This is an intelligent, suspenseful, and grimly funny picture.

Review: 28 Years Later: The Bone Temple

Image courtesy of Columbia Pictures.

The middle chapter of a planned trilogy often ends up being a placeholder – the film that is intended to bridge the first and final chapters, often through dense plotting or delving deeper into themes already explored in the first chapter. With a few notable exceptions – “The Empire Strikes Back” or “The Godfather Part II,” although I’m not sure that was a planned trilogy – the middle chapter is often the one with the least amount of personality.

So, I’m pleased to report that Nia DaCosta’s “28 Years Later: The Bone Temple,” the second chapter in a planned trilogy that was kicked off last year by Danny Boyle’s “28 Years Later,” not only does not fit into that pattern – it’s an extremely bleak and tense standalone picture – but it’s also the best film in the series since Boyle’s original 2003 movie.

Picking up shortly after the events of “28 Years Later,” young Spike (Alfie Williams) has fallen into the hands of the Fingers, a group of savage marauders led by the sinister Jimmy Crystal (Jack O’Connell), a violent charlatan who has led his group of followers – all of whom go by the name Jimmy – to believe that he is the son of “Old Nick,” AKA Satan.

The film opens with Spike being forced to take part in the group’s ritual: He must fight another Jimmy to the death to decide which one of them will be in the group. Spike, although much smaller than his opponent, uses his wits and survives.

As the group makes its way through the countryside and to the home of a group of survivors – who will become the Fingers’ next victims in a series of ghastly scenes – Ralph Fiennes’ Dr. Ian Kelson has made an unlikely friendship with Samson (Chi Lewis-Parry), the gigantic and nude alpha zombie who has a penchant for ripping people’s heads and spines right out of their bodies.

Kelson’s home in the titular place becomes a laboratory of sorts, where he uses morphine to calm the hulking Samson and the two form a strange bond, sitting around getting stoned and listening to Duran Duran records. Eventually, he begins to believe he can restore Samson's humanity through medicinal means. Although seemingly mad, Kelson is among the few who have retained their humanity in this “28 Years” saga, a trait that can be seen in his dealings with Samson and, later, with Spike.

In many ways, “The Bone Temple” is unlike a typical middle chapter of a trilogy because it does not seem to really further the story in any meaningful way – that’s not meant as a slight – and there are only a few appearances of the rage-filled zombies, Samson excluded. It’s not until the films’ end – where audiences will be treated to a pleasant surprise – that the narrative takes a leap forward.

Regardless, “The Bone Temple” is the most memorable film in this series since the fantastic original film, which remains one of my favorite 21^st century horror movies. By not adhering to the rules of a trilogy’s middle chapter, the picture is a wild and gloomy standalone film that is brutal, very intense, visually memorable, and full of strong performances.

While O’Connell, paired with his “Sinners” performance, makes for a great screen villain, it’s Fiennes who steals every scene he’s in as the mad doctor. There’s a scene set to an old Iron Maiden tune that I doubt I’ll soon forget. This is the first movie of 2026 that I’d consider well worth seeing.