| Image courtesy of Walt Disney Studios. |
Film writer and reporter Nathan Duke's musings on film, popular culture and the overall state of things.
Sunday, February 13, 2022
Review: Death On The Nile
Review: KIMI
| Image courtesy of HBO Max. |
Director Steven Soderbergh has been on a bit of a tear recently. His "Let Them All Talk" was an acting showcase for a great cast and last year's "No Sudden Move," a crime drama period piece with a little more than thrills up its sleeve, was his best in, perhaps, two decades. He's back already with another film, "KIMI," and it's the type of slow burn thriller that takes a little while - but at 86 minutes, not too long - to get where it's going, but pays off in a really entertaining way.
In terms of plot, it's somewhat simplistic, although I'm not exactly sure I can explain the various technological aspects of it. An agoraphobic young woman living in Seattle named Angela (Zoe Kravitz, very good) spends her days in front of a computer screen filtering through what could best be described as "errors in communication" for a tech company with a revolutionary product known as KIMI, which is essentially a voice-activated device that can do everything for you involving anything that can be controlled technologically.
From brief glimpses of her day-to-day existence, we know that Angela's mother (Robin Givens) wants her daughter to do more with her life (preferably outside of her apartment, which she has left infrequently; first, due to an "incident" that traumatized her, and then second because of COVID-19). Her shrink believes that she's slinking away from facing her problems, while her dentist is frustrated that she won't leave the house to have an abscessed tooth dealt with. She has somewhat of a fling going on with a guy (Byron Bowers) who lives in a building across the street, but they only see each other when he comes to her apartment.
While filtering through files one day, Angela stumbles upon what appears to be an audio clip of a woman accusing a man of rape, and him making threats toward her. She does some research with the aid of a Romanian computer whiz - in the film's one slightly unbelievable turn of plot - and discovers that the man involved in the audio had the woman killed by a pair of for-hire assassins.
As it turns out - and I don't believe this constitutes a spoiler warning - the man plays somewhat of a role in Angela's existence, and her attempts to bring this fact to the attention of a higher-up at the company where she works named Chowdury (Rita Wilson) has some frightening consequences.
As I'd mentioned, the film is a slow burn thriller. It's not until about a third of the film's short running time has passed that we get to the instigating incident that sets everything in motion. From there, it moves at a leisurely pace before becoming a fast-paced nail biter in the final third. There's some foreshadowing early in the picture when Angela has a conversation - on the phone, of course - with a guy who's renovating the apartment above her as to where Angela might turn in a pinch when being pursued by some corporate villains. All I can say is, the finale has some real payoff.
For a while, Soderbergh played the Hollywood game and made some big budget studio films that drew acclaim and made some money - most notably, his "Ocean's 11" series. But at heart, he's a director who likes to experiment. In recent years, he has made comedies ("Magic Mike"), heist films ("Logan Lucky") and horror movies ("Unsane") that include typical elements of their genre, while also giving them a spin that sets them apart from the expectations one might have for those genres. Some of his best films - "Traffic," "Out of Sight" and "No Sudden Move" especially - involve crime stories. "KIMI" involves a number of the various elements one might find in a Soderbergh film.
After an announced retirement from film some years back, Soderbergh returned and he's been cranking out films with a vengeance - although most of them have been on streaming platforms. His recent work has been of especially high quality.
"KIMI" likely has something to say about corporate greed and the dangers of technology that can spy on you, but here they mostly play second fiddle to a Hitchcockian story of an ordinary - or, in this case, eccentric - character who has stumbled upon a conspiracy. And that's perfectly fine because the film is a lean, mean and very effective thriller.
Review: Bigbug
| Image courtesy of Netflix. |
Much like Terry Gilliam and Tim Burton, French director Jean-Pierre Jeunet is a filmmaker whose pictures are often elaborate fantasies in which every frame is filled with images that couldn't be mistaken for the work of any other director. And much like those directors, Jeunet's body of work has seen its hits and misses. At his best, Jeunet's work can be bizarre concoctions like "Delicatessen" or "The City of Lost Children" or, his career high, the dazzling romantic comedy "Amelie."
So, I'm disappointed to say that his latest and first feature in a decade, "Bigbug," is not in that same company. The film is bursting with the manic energy and quirks one might expect in a Jeunet film, but it's missing something - perhaps, a reason for being or characters to whom we can relate. Instead, it settles on broad farce and is strangely confined to a setting that becomes less compelling as time wears on.
The film is set at some point in the future, and people have become so accustomed to living with robots that when the androids begin to take over, they hardly seem to notice. In the film, Elsa Zylberstein is a woman who has invited her new boyfriend (Stephane De Groodt) and his teenage son (Helie Thonnat) for dinner, where they meet her teenage daughter (Marysole Fertard).
However, her ex-husband (Youssef Hajdi) and his new lover/secretary (Claire Chust) happen to drop by while on their way to a tropical vacation. Add to the mix a neighbor (Jeunet regular Isabelle Nanty) who comes searching for her cloned dog. Zylberstein's character has a live-in robotic maid (Claude Perron) and several other smaller robots who help with household chores.
Just as all of these characters have assembled in the home, it becomes apparent - via images seen on TV - that robots have taken over the government, and humans are being made to be subservient. To continuously emphasize this point, we witness clips of some type of vapid reality show in which humans must debase themselves at the behest of their robotic overlords.
For much of the film's running time, the stakes seem pretty low - the air conditioning won't come on, then once it does the humans suffer near Arctic temperatures; then, the various assortment of humans in the home bicker over their relationships and try to figure a way out of the home, which has locked them all in. The drama finally increases when a sinister male robot shows up to inspect their home, and the humans must use their wits to foil him.
Some of Jeunet's previous films were particularly involving, such as the wartime drama "A Very Long Engagement" or the lovely, bursting-with-energy romance "Amelie." One of the biggest problems with "Bigbug" is that the group of people who are all stuck in the house are various shades of irritating. In some cases - especially the ditzy secretary character - this is obviously intentional. Also, their various dramas aren't that compelling.
The one element that saves "Bigbug" slightly is Jeunet's frenetic visual style and occasional bursts of absurd humor, though as a farce the picture doesn't exactly say anything new about our enslavement to technology or tackle it in a manner that's particularly clever.
While "Bigbug" may not be a bad film, it's merely an example of a filmmaker with singular abilities not using them on material that rises to his talent level. It's been a while since we've seen a Jeunet film - and, hopefully, we'll see another before long that's better than this one.
Sunday, January 30, 2022
Review: Parallel Mothers
| Image courtesy of Sony Pictures Classics. |
Review: Flee
| Image courtesy of Participant. |
Written and directed by Jonas Poher Rasmussen and animated in a style that is simple yet effective, the documentary "Flee" is a powerful story about the concept of finding a place one can call home and what it means to belong somewhere.
The film is based upon a friendship between Rasmussen and an Afghani man named Amin whom he met when he was young and riding a train. Amin has a refugee story that is often terrifying and - sadly - fairly standard, and up until the making of the film, so we're told, he has been reluctant to tell anyone this story for reasons that later become apparent.
The film has the style of a documentary in that its characters wander around the frame as if they're doing mundane tasks - sitting at a table or washing a dish in the sink - but those sequences have then been animated after the fact. At least, that's how it appears. Often, Amin is seen shot from above, lying on a couch as if he's telling his woes to a shrink.
Amin grew up in Afghanistan in the 1980s. His father disappeared one day after some soldiers showed up at their home, and he was never seen again. Amin lived with his mother, a brother and two sisters, and made plans to flee their home country when the mujahideen took over in the 1980s. On top of the fact that they'd be considered enemies of the new Afghan government, Amin also has a secret that would certainly endanger his life - he's gay.
Amin's refugee story involves being crammed into the bottom of dangerous boats with leaks; being smuggled various places by traffickers; living without a visa in Russia and being terrorized there by corrupt police; and finally making it to Denmark, although the rest of his family has congregated in Sweden, where an older brother had previously made it after fleeing Afghanistan.
Although this is technically a documentary - and the director often guides the conversation with his subject in the typical style of the format - the film employs flashback sequences to Amin's youth in Afghanistan, the family's travails in Russia and the moment when Amin finally told his family his secret. The blending together of these factual elements with recreated sequences - and animation - in one film make for a unique viewing experience. "Flee" is sort of a documentary, mostly an animated film and often a harrowing refugee story.
The film explores what the word home means - is it the place where we were born or where our family's home is located, or does it mean the place where we come to identify as feeling safe and belonging? Rasmussen's film explores this concept with powerful results, and its visual style will likely make it among the more unique documentaries you've likely seen.
Sunday, January 23, 2022
The Best Movies Of 2021
| Image courtesy of MGM. |
19. Passing (Rebecca Hall) - reviewed here.
13. Red Rocket (Sean Baker) - reviewed here.
11. The Card Counter (Paul Schrader) - reviewed here.
10. The Tragedy of Macbeth (Joel Coen) - reviewed here.
9. Parallel Mothers (Pedro Almodovar) - reviewed here.
Review: The Whaler Boy
| Image courtesy of Film Movement. |
Philipp Yuryev's strange coming-of-age odyssey "The Whaler Boy" is an example of atmosphere and locale going a long way to make up for the deficiencies of a film. This is a picture that is interesting by nature due to the place where it's set - Chukokta, a remote whaling village in the easternmost part of Russia - even when its story just sort of ambles along to the place where you figure it's going.
In the film, Indigenous teen Lyoshka (Vladimir Onokhov) lives in a village that is just under 90 miles to Alaska, and dreams of going to the United States. His dream is heightened when his village gets internet access, and the men there all flock to a web site featuring camgirls, or web cam models, who make money by engaging in sexual acts via web cam.
Lyoshka and his best pal, Kolyan (Vladimir Lyubimtsev), are both instantly taken with a blonde camgirl dressed in pink, and think that she is communicating (well, sort of), with them, although she never actually speaks to them. Lyoshka gets the idea that he should go to America to seek her out, while at the same time a rivalry begins with his friend, who also expresses a wish to meet the girl.
The film's remotely exotic locale, coupled with strange imagery - such as gigantic bones that Lyoshka stumbles upon during his journey to America or the ocean drenched in blood after the whalers kill a whale - and music that would seem at home in a David Lynch movie (Julee Cruise's "Rockin' Back Inside My Heart" pops up frequently) give the film an almost surreal vibe.
But the film stumbles a little as Lyoshka makes his journey to the United States. There's a scene that exudes some warmth when a U.S. border agent and Lyoshka nearly shoot one another after the former discovers the latter and then the two find a way to communicate, although it's particularly unbelievable how that plot thread ends.
There's also, most likely, something to be said about the corrupting effects of the internet on the isolated - both literally and figuratively - characters who come across it, but that is mostly left undeveloped. Also, a scene that provides the film with its most tension is later resolved easily - perhaps, too much so -in the picture's final moments. Ultimately, "The Whaler Boy" has a haunting visual quality to it, but the film's other elements don't compliment it as well as one might hope.