Wednesday, May 31, 2023

 John Wick: Chapter 4 (Chad Stahelski, 2023): 3/5

A very soft 3. Fun, great action sequences of course and my favorite here is Donnie Yen who plays Cane, the blind assassin. Totally stole the show. Very charismatic, and really dug his character's choreography.
At a certain point though, you can't raise the stakes any higher and you run out of gimmicks. This time, every henchman has a bulletproof suit! This time, every assassin in the world wants Wick dead...even harder! You can't help but laugh every time the movie makes a big deal out of the bounty increasing. (20 to 24 million? Please, we've been doing this since the second movie.) Also, demerits for the 3-hour runtime.

A Thousand and One (A.V. Rockwell, 2023): 3.5/5
A decades-spanning epic about generational poverty, Black motherhood, and the tragic reality of a city that is changing too quickly, pushing the economically challenged to live lives of desperation. It's a big film with a big heart, one that slowly builds its power as the years slip away and the characters scrape through hardship, even as the city prices them out. Director A.V. Rockwell makes the story feel like a vast journey across borrowed time, wherein the drawn-out perseverance of a mother is determined to build a new life for her son in a rapidly gentrifying New York City. Like the evolution of the city itself, the characters grow and change through countless obstacles that feel stacked against them from the start, laying the foundation for how a woman of color survives on the fringes of working class America, and how her son will grow into a teenager as he confronts his mother's complicated past. Very strong and affecting work from this new director.

Paint (Brit McAdams, 2023): 1.5/5
Not sure what's the point of casting Owen Wilson as an unofficial Bob Ross if you're just going to turn him into Vermont's womanizing cryptid. A harsh and clunky bizarre parody of sorts. More than anything, the key difference between Bob Ross and this Carl Nargle character here is that Bob Ross would never and will never be a has-been.

Renfield (Chris McKay, 2023): 2.5/5
Dumb, occasionally fun, highly disposable fare.

Empire of Light (Sam Mendes, 2022): 2.5/5
A bit dull and insipid with lifeless BBC Sunday Night TV Movie vibes.
Is there going to be a new trend from certain filmmakers now where they make a film supposedly about their love of cinema, but really it's just a backdrop to the unrelated drama at the center? Cause I'm not digging it. Least not here and with The Fabelmans too. But, I'll take crazy Olivia Colman over mad Michelle Williams as Spielberg's mom any day though.

Winnie the Pooh: Blood and Honey (Rhys Frake-Waterfield, 2023): 0.5/5
I tried to think of a bunch of zingers for this review but why take the energy.

Deep End (Jerzy Skolomowski, 1970): 2/5
A weird amalgamation of tones (casual but slightly manic) and a strange story of unlikeable characters. I had a hard time going along with it. The film begins with a teenage boy getting a job at a scuzzy London bathhouse. The clients are creeps and perverts, and his colleagues are odd and abrasive. Among these colleagues is Jane Asher, who takes our adolescent 'hero' under her wing while still maintaining an air of cold hostility. The boy predictably becomes obsessed with the woman ... and that's pretty much it. It's very drawn out and meandering and feels interminable despite its short runtime.

Inside (Vasilis Katsoupis, 2023): 2.5/5
Bottle thriller that struggles to justify its 100-minute running time. Thankfully Willem Dafoe is always an interesting enough actor to captivate you even when the movie spins its wheel. Few actors self-destruct as well as Dafoe.

Mrs. Harris Goes to Paris (Anthony Fabian, 2022): 3/5
This is the fusion of Jacques Demy and John Hughes you didn’t know you needed. Sweet and wholesome.

How to Blow Up a Pipeline (Daniel Goldhaber, 2022): 2/5
Very “what if a Vice article was a movie.”

The Outwaters (Robbie Banfitch, 2022): 2.5/5
Makes SKINAMARINK look like something out of Syd Field, but that's not even really my obstacle here. I just... let me put it bluntly: I didn't know what was happening in the second half. There's no apparent narrative logic between one moment and the next. You could take all the scenes between the initial bloody freakout and the part where the dude finds the tooth or whatever, shuffle them around, and it wouldn't change the experience one bit. It's all just a collection of shock images... that you can't see. I feel like a narrative movie can show me pictures, tell me what's going on, and let me know why it matters, and all I ask is it do at least two. This director said nah to all that.

Evil Dead Rise (Lee Cronin, 2023): 2.5/5
A melange of homage, reboot, and probably fan fiction, EVIL DEAD RISE was shot in New Zealand two years ago and originally set to be released directly to HBO Max last year before getting upgraded to a theatrical release. That may explain the acceptably disposable streaming feel of it--there's really nothing wrong with it, it delivers untold gallons of gore, it has a frenzied energy to it, and delivers all the reference-filled fan service today's moviegoers crave, but it doesn't really bring enough of anything new to the table to justify its existence other than keeping another IP alive.

Boston Strangler (Matt Ruskin, 2023): 2/5
A masterclass in vapid imitations.

The Covenant (Guy Ritchie, 2023): 3.5/5
Went in with zero expectations and came out satisfied. Dar Salim was superb in this and deserves immense credit. The Covenant is exceedingly competent as a thrilling war drama centered around the unshakable camaraderie between a sergeant and a local Afghan interpreter whose relationship and brotherhood is sold to us in full as unforeseen circumstances see the two men reliant on only each other for survival.

Air (Ben Affleck, 2023): 2.5/5
Was very unclear what decade this was set in. 70s? 40s?? Could’ve used a couple of references or something. Kidding aside, just an onslaught of “this is the historical significance of this moment” scenes.


Rye Lane (Raine Allen-Miller, 2023): 3/5

Like a perfectly good Season 2, Episode 3, of one of those shows about neurotic young adults in London. Or, say, Girls.

 

Sisu (Jalmari Helander, 2023): 3/5

Fun and dumb. Like First Blood but even more cartoonish. 

 

Evil Dead Rise (Lee Cronin, 2023): 2/5

I ask what is ‘evil dead’? A tone? A monster? A series of characteristic camera moves? Certainly the movie doesn’t know. As with Raimi’s recent Doctor Strange movie, I ask “Where is the scrappy and eager amateur Raimi?” In the end, I am just more excited and scared by stuff that pokes at the sticky, bleeding edge than by the competent, even accomplished, presentation of the familiar. 

 

M3GAN (Gerard Johnstone, 2023): 2/5

I don’t really go for killer doll or killer kid movies, and this is no exception. 

 

Tori and Lokita (Luc Dardenne, Jean-Pierre Dardenne, 2022): 3.5/5

Classic Dardennes: a clear-eyed and unsentimental narrative about a character in a bad situation and getting worse. One possible reason for its cool reception is that in the first half, our protagonist, Lokita, is uncharacteristically weak and frightened for a Dardenne protagonist. However, in the second half, we’re more closely tied to Tori, who like a typical Dardenne character is strong and very much on his own trip, sometimes to a fault.

 

Henri-Georges Clouzot’s Inferno (Serge Bromberg, Ruxandra Medrea, 2009): 3.5/5

An insomniac director obsessively pursues his vision. The extant footage of the movie looks stunning. Although she doesn’t have any lines, Romy Schneider has never been better or more alluring. 

 

Ludwig (Luchino Visconti, 1973): 3.5/5

A tour through the madness of the real Ludwig II of Bavaria—symbolized by his palace, with its Escher-like kaleidoscope of wealth, gold and jewels dripping from every surface and furnished with handsome and lusty young men. Mad Ludwig indeed. Ludwig’s extensive patronage of Wagner is especially interesting. Ludwig, Wagner and Visconti share a megalomania, a sense of one’s own nobility, a belief in the compensations of aesthetics, and (between Ludwig and V at least) a fondness for handsome young men. (The lead, Helmut Berger, who just died last week, was Visconti’s lover.) It’s ridiculous that the movie is four hours long, but mad, self-confident excess is the name of the game. 

 

Strike (Sergei Eisenstein, 1925): 3/5

The innovation and editing speed of this movie is astonishing, but they, if anything, decrease emotional engagement—as does the (understandable) focus on the collective over individuals. I’m sure this occurred to Eisenstein (haha), but it’s not very satisfying. 

 

The Bread and Alley, 12 mins (Abbas Kiarostami, 1970): 3/5

A six-year-old deals with a dog on his way home. The opening credits play over a cheery instrumental cover of 'Ob-la-di ob-la-da’ (!!!)

 

Incoherence, 31 mins (Bong Joon-ho, 1994): 3.5/5

Bad behavior followed by a final irony. I was skeptical that the three stories presented were going to pay off as a whole but damned if they didn’t.

 

Gilda (Charles Vidor, 1946): 4/5

Va-va-voom! Rita Hayworth represents everything desirable, unattainable, unknowable, and possibly loathsome about a beautiful woman—and she’s shot by Rudolph Maté like a goddess. I do wish her acting was as electrifying as her underarms, but you can’t have everything. Glen Ford is ok, but baddie George Macready (and his real face scar) is better. The film reminds one of Casablanca in that it features people who have run away to an exotic location, now waging an internal battle over a powerful and impossible love—as well as in the way it recreates Buenos Aires (and its romantic, WWII-adjacent drama) on the back lot. 

 

7th Heaven (Frank Borzage, 1927): 3.5/5

A dreamy romance between a sewer worker and a young woman abused by her sister, coming to a head with WWI drama. Sets are huge and elaborate, including a seven-story stairwell built so a camera on an elevator can follow the lovers up up up to their seventh-story bit of heaven. Cutie pie Janet Gaynor (5’0”) made 12 films with man-mountain Charles Farrell (6’2”).

 

Lucky Star (Frank Borzage, 1929): 3.5/5

Reunites Borzage with Gaynor and Farrell and features the same deep, constructed, gnarled, fantasy environments, beautifully lit—not to mention another WWI sequence. In both films Farrell plays a total yokel (which perfectly fits with his broad actorly arm waving) but Gaynor is even more uneducated than he is (not to mention abused), so he seems clever to her. It’s condescending but heartwarming. Farrell returns from WWI in a wheelchair, and he’s such a massive man it’s a shock to see him writhe and crawl on the floor on several occasions to get back in his chair. Both movies end in dumb “Love heals seemingly intractable heath conditions” conclusions. 

 

Yasujirō Ozu Film Fest

A total of Ozu’s 34 movies exist, although 2 are fragments. (I’ve now seen all but one: The Munekata Sisters (1950), which is considered by many to be his worst). Ozu also made an additional 18 movies between 1927 and 1936 that are now lost. A lifelong all-day drinker, Ozu died of cancer on his 60th birthday. Young!!

 

What you can generally expect from an Ozu movie: 

•      Great drinking scenes, 

•      Realistic child characters and actors, 

•      Flawed fathers, 

•      The feeling of time passing and the characters’ feelings slowly changing, 

•      Low camera angles and pillow shots that lend an air of serenity to the drama no matter how serious, 

•      A frame where everything is equally lit and in focus, from background to foreground,

•      A sense of acceptance of life, in all its emotions,

•      The best back scratching, neck scratching, arm scratching, and temple scratching in film history,

•      Characters who are generous, compassionate, kind and accepting of the weird ways of those around them, and

•      Characters who share a cheerful, “all things must pass” attitude, even while tragedy exists.

 

I loved this viewing project so much that I would like to give half these movies a 5, but I thought it more prudent to give a better idea of my preferences. All these movies are family dramas, which I’ve decided is pretty much my favorite genre (logically, considering the drama of my own life). I find the 14 silent movies here to be surprisingly modern in terms of pace and subject matter. Of course, Ozu made silent movies up until 1935—long after sound technology was available, even in Japan.

 

Incidentally, Ozu was interested in calligraphy and personally drew all of the main title characters for his color films (at least). He also designed all the bar signs down shadowed alleys, of which there are many, always. Knowing this, it’s a pleasure to spot them. 

 

Father-Issues Ozu

I'm sure Ozu's relationship with his father, who was the 5th generation manager of the family's fertilizer business, was great!


Tokyo Chorus (Yasujirō Ozu, 1931): 3/5

Silent. After some questionable comedy in the first act, the movie settles down into a touching family drama about what happens when a young father with two young kids loses his job. You can tell from Ozu’s 1930s movies that Japan is not doing well, economically. 

 

Passing Fancy (Yasujirō Ozu, 1933): 4/5

Silent. A blue-collar father considers a romantic partner while he struggles to raise his headstrong son, who at 10 or so is already better educated than he is. Is leaving his son to take a job in a remote location the answer to their money woes? 

 

An Inn in Tokyo (Yasujirō Ozu, 1935): 5/5

Silent. A desperately poor, jobless man with two adorable sons struggles to find work and shelter. Again Takeshi Sakamoto. Again a single father. Again an illness. Again the question of whether the father will leave in the end. Again great. Tokyo appears harsh and industrial. Thirteen years later, they would have called this film neo-realism. 

 

There Was a Father (Yasujirō Ozu, 1942): 5/5

A single father sacrifices for his son’s education, but this time there is an odd, unspoken (but familiar, to me) feeling that the father is kind of broken and doesn’t really want to hang out with his child—actually preferring to send him away to school, etc. 

 

Floating Weeds (Yasujirō Ozu, 1959): 3.5/5

One of the best examples of a directors remaking their own movies. (Looking at you Hitchcock and Haneke). A traveling acting troupe returns to the town where one of the actors has a (now grown) son, who doesn’t know the actor is his father. Features a beautiful variation of the idea of a score—often it is as if there is someone in a house nearby playing a flute or tapping a couple of woodblocks together. Strong feelings of grace, serenity, humility—there are disagreements, but everyone is resigned from the beginning that people are going to act the way they want and that life, indeed, goes on. 

 

 

Gangster Ozu

In each of these, a woman (eventually) serves as the guiding conscience of the gangster, which is also the moral curve of The Godfather. Of course, Kay could never manage to make Michael repent as these men do.

 

Last Night’s Wife (Yasujirō Ozu, 1930): 3/5

Silent. A father commits a crime to save the family—and must go to jail for it. It was his responsibility to do it and it was his responsibility to pay his dues for it. 

 

Walk Cheerfully (Yasujirō Ozu, 1930): 3/5

Silent. A gang of hoodlums hang out looking cool in their Fedoras, scarves, and long coats—boxing, playing pool, and nicking wallets. The characters have common dances and songs that they casually perform together, as a way to communicate their community (reportedly influenced by Harold Lloyd’s college movies, such as The Freshman). However, the main drama is centered around whether our hoodlum protagonist can give up his thieving ways and become worthy of the woman he has fallen in love with. In this version, he begins his path and penance at the end of act one. In Dragnet Girl, it’s literally in the movie’s last moments. Both are interesting, valid, realistic and satisfying, so why not play out both and discover the difference?

 

Dragnet Girl (Yasujirō Ozu, 1933): 4/5

Silent. More hats and overcoats, boxing and fistfights, cool guys with nicknames like Eight Card and Mako, and of course one last job. A lot of funny bits using sound. Like: two guys start a fight in the foyer of a restaurant. Cut to the interior of the restaurant and suddenly everyone turns at the same time to see what’s going on off screen. Later, two people in the middle of a conversation suddenly stop and turn toward the door. Someone is knocking. We’re also shown a statuette of the RCA listening dog (registered in the U.S. in 1900).  

 

 

College/Young Salaryman Ozu

 

Days of Youth (Yasujirō Ozu, 1929): 3/5

Silent. Ozu’s earliest existing film—a love triangle at a ski lodge (!!). Ozu style is already somewhat present, including some cameras set on the ground so that even when two characters are seated on the ground, the camera looks up to them. Plus, there are some primitive pillow shots (albeit motivated) when the characters gaze out a window. 

 

I Graduated, But… (Yasujirō Ozu, 1929): N/A

Silent. Only 11 minutes of this film survive. A recent graduate has trouble finding a job.

 

I Flunked, But… (Yasujirō Ozu, 1930): 2.5/5

Silent. The Animal House of its day (although I understand that campus comedies were a trend at this time)—drinking, womanizing and spending more effort to cheat than it would ever take to just learn the stuff. Not very amusing. 

 

The Lady and the Beard (Yasujirō Ozu, 1931): 2.5/5

Silent. A guy grows a big scruffy beard in college—a symbol of his traditional ways. But once he graduates, he has trouble finding enjoyment and a girl. Finally, he shaves the beard and everything’s fine. Meanwhile the women chafe against the arranged marriages that their parents devise. Two measures of modernity vs. tradition. 

 

Where Now are the Dreams of Youth? (Yasujirō Ozu, 1932): 3/5

Silent. When the father of a new graduate dies, the son must take over the his thriving business (including hiring all his goof-off buddies). The chaotic energy is strong in this one, as the modern female is not sweet just bold, and her father is a happy, half naked drunk. Eventually, the “Prince” character must give up his (more traditional) love interest because of his princely duties (as in Lubitch’s The Student Prince in Old Heidelberg and von Stroheim’s The Wedding March), but this time it’s because his friend loved her first and he doesn’t want to be an asshole. This self-consciousness and sensitivity on the part of the prince character is a new path—and very Ozu. 

 

Early Spring, rw (Yasujirō Ozu, 1956): 3/5

A married salary man has an affair. Contains a kiss of passion (although the camera is placed behind the man, so we never see the lips touch). Also contains a scene of post-coital languor. Overall, the movie (Ozu’s first after the success of Tokyo Story) is a real exception to Ozu’s cheerfulness. The young salary men and their wives are all miserable, and having an affair makes it worse. “That’s what we got waiting for us, just disillusion and loneliness. I’ve worked 31 long years to find life is an empty dream.” And I am reminded that Ozu’s gravestone contains only the symbol for Mu (meaning emptiness), which he drew. 

 

 

Loosies

 

A Straightforward Boy (Yasujirō Ozu, 1929): N/A

Silent. Only fragments remain of this retelling of O. Henry’s The Ransom of Red Chief, published in 1907. Broadly comic.

 

Woman of Tokyo - 46 min, (Yasujirō Ozu, 1933): 3.5/5

Silent. Sister turns to sex work to pay for her brother’s school. Short but packs a punch, including several violent and emotional confrontations between the characters and a heartfelt tragedy. The characters go see If I Had a Million, a weird omnibus movie directed by Ernst Lubitsch and six other directors. Since that movie has sound, it’s an odd moment when we watch these characters in a silent movie who are watching a sound movie. Ozu gropes toward his classic pillow shots by inserting serenely composed still-lifes of bowls, decorative tables, tea pots. 

 

A Mother Should Be Loved (Yasujirō Ozu, 1934): 3/5

Silent. After her husband dies, the widow must raise her two sons, one of whom is (unbeknownst to him) from her dead husband’s previous marriage. Could be considered part of a “Two Brothers Ozu” series along with I Was Born But..., An Inn in Tokyo, and Good Morning. Or part of a “Single Mother Raises Son” series along with A Hen in the Wind and Record of a Tenement Gentleman. 

 

What Did the Lady Forget? (Yasujirō Ozu, 1937): 4/5

Has a view of marriage not that much different from Hollywood’s screwballs—and it shares with them an unusually (for Ozu) snappy comic tone. When their niece with modern ideas comes to visit from Osaka, it shakes up the marriage of her uncle and aunt, eventually in a good way. Also gives arcs to several other peripheral characters, all in an hour and 10 minutes. 

 

Brothers and Sisters of the Toda Family (Yasujirō Ozu, 1941): 3/5

Plot-wise, a dry run for Tokyo Story as, after their father dies, three siblings pass the mother and younger sister around in an annoyed way. Ozu likes to start his movies with a crowd scene where all the characters are together (see The Godfather)—as here when the whole family comes together for a photograph.  

 

Record of a Tenement Gentleman (Yasujirō Ozu, 1947): 4/5

A widow reluctantly takes in an orphan child. The tone is lightly comic but ends with some chilling images communicating how many war orphans Japan was dealing with in 1947. 

 

Tokyo Twilight, rw (Yasujirō Ozu, 1957): 3.5/5

Ozu’s most nocturnal film. In fact, with parts of the room out of focus and in pools of light and darkness, it looks nothing like an Ozu film (with the exception of Dragnet Girl), also the subject matter of abortion (evidently legal in 1950s Japan) is by far the most frank and taboo subject in any of his films. Of course that’s one reason to cherish it—but saying it’s your favorite is like saying that Scorsese’s best movie is Kundun. Ozu’s last b/w film.

 

Some of Ozu’s great actor regulars


Takeshi Sakamoto


 Chishū Ryū (featured in 32 of Ozu's films)




Chôko Iida


Setsuko Hara


 


Ozu the Cineaste














 


Monday, May 1, 2023

 Rifkin's Festival (Woody Allen, 2020): 1/5

I somewhat admire the dedication to churning out shit.

Tori and Lokita (The Dardennes, 2022): 3/5
Engrossing, though I didn't care for the rushed ending. Felt too blunt, telegraphed and didn’t land as I would’ve hoped. Still, I was drawn in by the phenomenal performances and chemistry from Pablo Schils and Mbundu Joely.

Even Dwarfs Started Small (Werner Herzog, 1970): 2/5
I decided to haul out my copy of HERZOG ON HERZOG before writing this, and in it he says something like: "nightmares and dreams do not bend to political correctness". This is probably the purest nightmare fuel Herzog ever made (though let me rewatch LESSONS OF DARKNESS before signing that in blood), the work of an angry young man unfussed with societal norms, animal welfare, or anything except the endless circling of an abandoned motor car and maniacal cackling of dwarfs. Nowhere near my favorite Herzog, and difficult to recommend, it's a crazy film that slots somewhere between Jodorowsky and THE IDIOTS. (The story, such as it is, is basically an institution-bound LORD OF THE FLIES.)

Bad Tales (Damiano D’Innocenzo, Fabio D’Innocenzo, 2020): 2/5
Technically accomplished and great textures of dread and ambiguity, but that's kind of it. The characters didn't feel like human beings so much as repositories for human suffering. And despite the set up being quite simple, the narrative was weirdly hard to follow - didn't feel intentional either.

Return to Seoul (Davy Chou, 2022): 3.5/5
Freddie, a 25 year old South Korean born woman who was adopted and grew up in France, returns to her birth country on a whim and starts looking for her biological parents, and in the process experiences a crisis over her own identity. It is a character-driven drama that really shines in its first half and Park Ji-min is absolutely a star in the making. Saddest part is when the dad’s wife uses her Nintendo 3DS to say how happy she is that Freddie is there.

Betty Tells Her Story (Liane Brandon, 1972, 19 mins): 3.5/5
“The uncomfortableness of being praised for a prettiness I never had.”
A simple, ingenious conceit, of having a woman tell the same story of a small but affecting indignity and heartbreak twice, using unassuming close-ups to study her face to see how the second time and the benefit of having reflected on the story brings new emotional details to the same narrative event. What a difference between telling a story and reliving a feeling.

Funeral Parade of Roses (Toshio Matsumoto, 1969): 2.5/5
No matter how progressive or reformist, for glaring abstraction to truly take hold, it must prompt a strong visceral reaction from me, something that this film never really did. Instead, I was often reduced to admiring it from afar—appreciating its singularity but remaining mostly impassive to anything it was trying to say. The contour is fascinating, but the themes of coming to terms with one’s sexuality are obfuscated under the tidal wave of experimentalism, almost in a way that makes the transgender and homosexual elements seem like merely other parts of the collective novelty. Matsumoto occasionally does strike a tender nerve of compassion, mainly in the way his cross-dressing subjects confront the pseudo-documentarians (who ask and prod their questions with an undeniably conservative bent) with breezy insouciance.

Enys Men (Mark Jenkin, 2022): 1/5
*Carmela Soprano voice*
"There was the cinematography."
Satisfies the most rudimentary element of any feature film in that it is most certainly a series of images, though I would be hard-pressed to argue it does much more to justify its existence beyond that. Would not make an iota of difference if you walk in at minute zero or minute eighty, except the latter spares you eighty minutes of your time. Does not provoke, does not scare, does not thrill, does not intrigue.

Blue Jean (Georgia Oakley, 2022): 3/5
A microcosm of endorsed "think of the children" homophobia in 1980s Thatcherite Britain. Nicely shot character study about surpassing the fear of owning one's identity for positive change.

The Plains (David Easteal, 2022): 2.5/5
Exclusively mundane and rarely interested in more than cumulative effect. Basically, JEANNE DIELMAN in a car.

Un Flic (Jean-Pierre Melville, 1972): 3/5
A typical Jean-Pierre Melville crime film, which means it's slick, cool, and stylish, and features stoic men being damn professionals. The problem is that films like LE SAMOURAI, LE CERCLE ROUGE, and LE DOULOS are even slicker, cooler, and more stylish, which is why UN FLIC is a bit underwhelming in comparison. The meticulously crafted heist sequences are the clear highlights, but everything else is not quite as gripping and a bit unfocused. Nevertheless, if you are in need of a dose of French coolness, a Melville flick is never the wrong choice.

Young Torless (Volker Schlondorff, 1966): 2.5/5
Who would have thought that privileged teenage boys in an institution that encourages power and manipulation over empathy would commit violence against others given the opportunity?

The Sleeping Beauty (Catherine Breillat, 2010): 1/5
"To be beautiful one must suffer," Anastasia says. I must be gorgeous then, given how much I hated this movie from start to finish. I’m not convinced that this wasn’t directed by a different Catherine Breillat and criterion added it by mistake.

Bluebeard (Catherine Breillat, 2009): 2/5
Better than SLEEPING BEAUTY but still quite unimpressive. Breillat tries to convince the audience that the subdued and one-note directing and cinematography are a way to strip away any form of elegance from the fairy tale genre, but it just looks like a made for TV movie. I guess some people enjoy such subtext filled boringness unfold on screen, but there is very little here to actually unpack.

Hellbender (Toby Poser, John Adams, 2021): 3/5
Exactly what you'd want from a movie about witches: lots of creepy witchy shit. Becomes more impressive/neat when you factor in the familial nature of the production.

65 (Scott Beck, Bryan Woods, 2023): 2/5
Adam Driver fighting dinosaurs in space. I heard they tested two cuts, what I saw can't be the best version.

Beef (Hikari, 2023): 4/5
OR, Meat Cute.
Starts with a cautionary tale about road rage/anger management that quickly begins to spiral out into some dark and perilous places. Wong and Yuen are both marvelous as the two pro/antagonists, each of their POVs presented with as much empathy as can be afforded, while never letting either of them off the hook for the horrible things they do along the way. Fun and entertaining - a very good binge.

Abbott Elementary Season 1 (Quinta Brunson, 2021): 3.5/5
Sweet, charming, and funny. Janelle James is pitch perfect as the tone-deaf principal.

Center Stage (Stanley Kwan, 1991): 3/5
I miss Maggie Cheung so much I could cry real tears. I hope she's happy, wherever she is.

The Bigamist (Ida Lupino, 1953): 3/5
Prefigures Mad Men in a lot of ways - the ennui-filled businessman torn between various women who can't fulfill him. Always consuming, never sated, doomed from the start and trudging along any way he can. Neat to see this perspective arise from the period itself and not retrospectively.

Hospital (Frederick Wiseman, 1970): 4/5
A simultaneous testament to Wiseman's observational skills and his perspicacity as an editor, shaping shapeless anecdotes into something that proceeds with undeniable subterranean logic while completely devoid of conventional audience hand holding.
I am of two minds as to whether this early Wiseman suffers slightly or not from the absence of what becomes trademark in late Wiseman - spending time in the bowels of institutional decision making. I would be curious as to how this would play with scenes of administrators arguing budgets and bed numbers or whatever, but its undiluted focus on the intersection between the front line, the public, and the other institutions that interact with the hospital (police, other hospitals, and social services) doesn't beg for additional material.

High School (Frederick Wiseman, 1968): 4/5
Wiseman looks at high school as a dystopian engine for capitalist conformity. Not sure why anyone even bothered making a high school movie after this, he said everything there is to say.

Speaking Parts (Atom Egoyan, 1989): 2/5
Egoyan at his iciest and most alienating - with little to no cues for any sort of conventional emotional identification. Main plot and subplots are off putting and weird. The more Egoyan films I see, the more I'm convinced that Yorgos Lanthimos must be a big fan.

The Ascent (Larisa Shepitko, 1977): 3.5/5
I was in the mood for some depressing Soviet cinema and THE ASCENT certainly ticks all the boxes. A bleak frozen landscape frames a harrowing and philosophical anti-war story that slowly builds to an emotive grim finale. What's not to love? And it wasn't til afterward that I realized Shepitko was married to the director of Come and See, Elem Klimov. I kind of love it when great filmmakers are married to each other (e.g. Agnes Varda and Jacques Demy).