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Sundance 2022: SHARP STICK is Lena Dunham’s Bleak LA Movie
Dunham’s latest is a daring film, that may not be for everyone
Lena Dunham returns to feature film after 11 years with her latest that just screened at Sundance this weekend, Sharp Stick. The film is definitely a pandemic film and not only takes place during the height of COVID, but feels like the story was culled in part from Tiktok, which was a lifeline to some of us, including myself. I loved Tiny Furniture and that put me on the ground floor for Girls when it hit HBO, which I also enjoyed. While Dunham is a very divisive figure, I think most of her output comes from a very fractured, but genuine place and I connect with that. Lena’s characters tend to be terrible people and she as a writer really revels and excels in showing us their humanity, sometimes bringing her audience to that very real place in the middle.
Sharp Stick follows Sarah Jo (Kristine Froseth), a naive LA native, who is very much on the spectrum; who works as a caregiver for children with special needs. In high school Sarah underwent an emergency hysterectomy that left her body scarred — that trauma, and the fact that she is unable to have children most definitely impacts her and informs her profession. When we meet Sarah she is working for a wealthy family caring for a young boy with downs syndrome. Dunham here plays the matriarchal pregnant breadwinner of the family as her husband Josh (Jon Bernthal) is your stereotypical man child. He spends his time hanging out, and sometimes interacting with his son’s caretaker. He’s a good dad and because of that, Sarah develops feelings for Josh and pursues him into an affair, which comes to the trainwreck of a conclusion you’d expect. Due to her body dysmorphia, Sarah blames the break up on herself and her lack of sexual experience at the time, since he was the first man she was with.
The second half of the film is this transgressive sexual awakening by way of a bizarre take on The To Do List. Sarah becomes obsessed with porn and builds an A-Z list of sex acts she hopes to complete to earn Josh back. The anxiety of the affair being discovered and the brightness of the first half is replaced by darkness and fear, as Sarah Jo begins getting garishly made up and meeting random dudes for sex in a dingy hotel room, while we hope she doesn’t get raped or murdered. Sure, there’s an element of empowerment since this is Sarah’s journey and she is the one curating what these men do to her, but it’s still a precarious situation that the developmentally disabled woman fails to fully recognize. There’s even a point where she gets an STD, and that incredulously is used as a punchline. That second half is a rough watch as it flirts with some very bleak subject matter, making us wonder just what is waiting for us as an audience next.
Sharp Stick is a daring film that simply put, and may not be for everyone. It’s definitely a more mature effort for Dunham as she digs into the darker corners of the human psyche, but does so with a character that is afforded a purity of character that will allow the viewer to absolve her of almost any sin. That said, even this get out of jail free card is well worn by the end of that third act, but Duham abruptly course corrects, not by Sarah’s hand mind you, but in a way that stops the girl from falling into the abyss and being swallowed whole. Sharp Stick is essentially Dunham’s LA film and that says volumes: it’s dark, it’s angry and it explains why she essentially got the hell out. Kristine Froseth is a revelation here as Sarah in a performance that hopefully doesn’t get lost on those that may struggle with her journey. There’s a purity she never manages to let go of, and I think that relentless optimism is what carried me through.
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Sundance 2022: UTAMA
This Bolivian drama, which had its world premiere at Sundance, is a striking meditation on the effects of climate change in an indigenous community.
Shot in a village set between two deserts in the Bolivian highlands, Utama follows the daily routine of elderly couple Virginio and Sisa (José Calcina and Luisa Quispe). Virginio cares for the llamas and takes them to graze while Sisa walks to get water. This is what the duo have done for decades, but things are changing. Virginio has developed a nasty cough he thinks he can hide from his wife, and the village pump is out of water. Then grandson Clever (Santos Choque) comes to visit with news.
Director Alejandro Loayza Grisi wrote Utama, influenced by trips he’d made around the country with family; he even had his preferred location in mind after visiting the village while filming for another environmental film. The crew built Sisa and Virginio’s house and spent winter (the dry season) making this quiet film, using mostly natural light. The landscape in Utama is immense and rugged, but Sisa and Virginio have a long history with the land and feel a deep connection to it. When Clever suggests they move into town, they refuse.
There’s a strong sense of machismo, verging on toxic masculinity, to Virginio’s character. When Sisa asks him to get water while out with the llamas, he tells her it’s her job, like it’s women’s work he doesn’t want to do. He speaks in Quechua around his grandson, fully aware that Clever doesn’t know enough of the language to interpret what he’s saying. The communication issues go deeper than this, as Virginio is stubbornly reluctant to even listen to Clever and learn his grandson’s reason for visiting. There are likely many reasons for the older character’s hesitation to receive medical attention and admit he feels poorly, but it fits under that machismo as well.
Despite this aspect of his character, there’s an obvious tenderness between Sisa and Virginio; knowing that Calcina and Quispe (previously non-actors) are married in real life explains some of that. The two of them emote quite naturally onscreen. Choque, as Clever, shows vulnerability and deep care in his role.
Along with the gorgeous cinematography and shot composition, the sound design is a highlight to Utama. From the first rough breaths we hear from Virginio, to the clopping of the llamas across the land, to the noise of flags rustling in the wind, the audio is clear, concise and perfectly blended. Even the scoring by Cergio Prudencio, with the instrumentation largely made up of percussion and pan flutes, sounds like a natural accompaniment as Virginio takes his llamas out.
Offering a glimpse into this drought affecting a small indigenous village, Utama is subtle yet direct with messaging. This way of life is dying out, and a people whose identity is so tied to the land will have a difficult time transitioning to life in a city. Even with such heavy themes, the Bolivian film leaves the viewer with a feeling of hope.
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Sundance 2022: DESCENDANT
Margaret Brown’s haunting new documentary about an Alabama town and the truth that must be reckoned with.
Emmett Lewis in DESCENDANT. Alabama filmmaker Margaret Brown (The Order of Myths, The Great Invisible) spent four years working on her latest documentary, Descendant, which premiered at Sundance Film Festival this weekend. The residents of Africatown, off the coast of Mobile, are descendants of captives from an illegal slave ship, the Clotilda, which was burned in 1860 in an attempt to destroy evidence. Descendant centers the stories of the descendants, who have to speak for their ancestors.
Through oral histories — including Zora Neale Hurston’s Barracoon, told to her by one of the last living survivors of the Clotilda — the people of Africatown have long been aware of the legacy, despite the location of the ship having been lost. Community leader Cleon Jones comments, “I don’t need the proof; I’ve lived with the proof all my life.” Along with a number of townspeople, the film also introduces the viewer to others searching for the sunken ship.
A street in Africatown, from DESCENDANT. Brown’s film keeps the tone suspenseful, yet meditative, as the truth is uncovered. The voices of the descendants are given primary importance and respect. Various townsfolk are filmed reading passages from Barracoon, shown in different spots from a porch in town to a plantation house. Archived video from folklorist Dr. Kern Jackson, a co-producer on Descendant, is incorporated into the documentary so even recent ancestors can be heard.
The relationship built between filmmaker and subjects during filming is shown in the vulnerability and openness we witness from the descendants. This frank quality of the work makes Descendant as compelling and thought-provoking as it is. Brown and her editing team also show a stunning mastery in the weaving of related topics — the environmental racism seen in Africatown’s zoning; the town’s current economic ties to the family of the Clotilda’s owner; the white supremacist mythology venerating the Confederacy — into the overall storytelling framework. A lesser film might feel cluttered, but the editing is well considered here.
Brown and her crew have created an emotionally engaging work about history and truth that especially seems timely as a certain political minority in our country argues against any possible educational discussion involving race and slavery that could make a white person feel guilty. There’s no way any documentary can paint a complete picture of a townspeople and their history, but Descendant comes as close as it can.
Veda Tunstall in DESCENDANT. -
Sundance 2022: EMERGENCY
GET OUT Meets THE HANGOVER in one of the funniest and socially biting films at Sundance
Emergency is a razor sharp entry in the “one crazy night” sub-genre of comedies that puts a relevant twist on the well worn formula. The film takes place the night before spring break and follows two black college students: the studious — Kunle (Donald Elise Watkins) and the partier — Sean (RJ Cyler) at a mostly white college. The two planned to spend their last night on campus completing a “Legendary” tour, hitting all seven frat parties in one night. The problem is when they run home to pregame, they find their front door open, and a 17 year-old white girl (Maddie Nichols) unconscious in their house; that they share with a hispanic student, the stoner — Carlos (Sebastian Chacon). The three men then charge themselves with getting the girl help, but thanks to the current state of the world, calling the cops in this situation might not be the safest bet. So the three men risk their lives to drive the girl to the hospital in Sean’s busted up minivan.
Interspersed with the requisite witty comedic situations are some thought provoking moments of reflection that dig in emotionally. Racism, friendship, toxic masculinity, sexism, Kunle and Sean spend their time delving into what it’s like to be a black man in today’s society, compounded by the minefield that is the college experience. Throughout the film there’s a palpable fear slowly instilled in our trio that director Carey Williams does an amazing job at transcending to those that may not be the most “Woke”. It’s done in a way that while not heavy handed, doesn’t shy away or lose any of its edge as the connection between the film and audience who are locked in by the third act, when the 3 men pick up a few more passengers.
While dealing out the hilarious laughs you’d expect, Emergency provokes just as well as it entertains. Unlike traditional fare in this canon, the race of the young men and societies attitudes and perceptions towards the young black men is what supplies the ultimate danger to our trio, who simply want to help, without losing their lives in the process. It’s that precarious line Carey Williams expertly toes over and over again as they get closer and closer to the hospital and encounter those that judge a book simply by its cover. Ultimately Williams does leave us with a bit of hope, but it’s not free and I appreciated that choice as a director. Emergency hit me hard, I laughed, I cried. I think it’s a film that uses humor to try and change minds in the best way possible, by allowing others to empathize through surviving “one crazy night” in another man’s shoes.
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Sundance 2022: WATCHER
Maika Monroe enthralls in a tense, fish-out-of-water paranoia thriller from Chloe Okuno
After her husband’s unexpected promotion at a marketing job, Julia (Maika Monroe) moves with her husband Francis (Karl Glusman) to Bucharest, Romania to continue building their life together. Francis is a first-generation Romanian-American, and takes to his new city like returning to an ancestral homeland. Julia, however, is adrift. Leaving a struggling acting career in the States, Julia hopes that she can re-evaluate what she wants out of life somewhere new. However, in a country where she doesn’t speak the language or know the culture, and seemingly everyone else can’t (or won’t) speak English–including her husband–Julia’s life feels more imprisoning and insular by the day. When she notices another apartment-dweller (Burn Gorman) across the courtyard staring into her living room, Julia starts to notice him everywhere around Bucharest. As panic spreads across the city about a decapitating serial killer known as “the Spider,” Julia’s anxiety builds as she fears her voyeuristic neighbor might have sinister plans in store for her.
Chloe Okuno’s debut feature is a gripping thriller that couples the loneliness of living abroad with the maddening anxiety of being gaslit by the ones you love most, creating a relentlessly tense atmosphere of paranoia and dread. The film’s simple premise may owe much to a wide berth of suspense films ranging from The Third Man to Rear Window to Rosemary’s Baby, but Okuno’s precise and insightful eye towards her protagonist’s role as an isolated woman in a foreign land, exquisitely brought to life by Maika Monroe’s magnetic performance, make Watcher a popcorn thriller with surprising and rewarding emotional power.
Even before Watcher makes its turns into explicit genre territory, writer-director Okuno and co-writer Zack Ford mine the loneliness and anxiety of Julia’s new world for all that it’s worth. Beginning with dappled neons on winding cobblestone streets, Julia’s initially captivated by Bucharest’s timeless beauty. As she and Francis settle into their stately apartment, sure to cost a fortune in the U.S., it seems like both of them have finally achieved a long-awaited dream. But most of Watcher is comprised of scenes of Julia alone, with Francis spiriting off to the job that uprooted both of their lives–and each sequence feels progressively more claustrophobic as Julia strives to acclimate. Without treading into the realm of the xenophobic, Julia’s one-sided struggles with the Romanian-English language barrier heighten the sense that her isolation isn’t circumstantial, but deliberate. This is made all the worse by her silent Watcher’s ever-increasing presence–and we debate whether someone’s inexplicable silence is better or worse than them speaking a language she cannot yet understand.
Much like her unrelenting voyeur, Watcher never leaves Julia’s world. Maika Monroe is in every scene of this film, heartily taking on the challenge of guiding the audience through each step of her character’s subtle yet swift emotional journey through the film’s trim 90-minute runtime. Living up to the scream-queen promise of her earlier film It Follows, Monroe is a commanding horror performer, with each new sequence allowing for different shades and nuances to her deepening fears and anxieties. As Watcher dives into darker, sinister territory, Julia’s battle isn’t to determine why her stalker is following her, but to convince those around her to believe what’s going on. It’s prime material for Watcher’s director and actress to explore, as it provides a startlingly new yet potent approach towards all-too-common themes of dismissing women’s claims of wrongdoing or calls for aid. Both Okuno and Monroe deftly navigate the audience through the film’s shifting genre landscape, recognizing the terror that exists in both the malevolent as well as the mundane.
The film’s last few minutes may prove to be a litmus test for how much Watcher’s audience may be willing to surrender themselves to Okuno’s arresting and oppressive vision. For this reviewer, I found Watcher’s finale to be a wholly satisfying callback to classic Hitchcockian thrillers who refused to let their audience off the hook until the final frames. In Watcher’s case, however, Julia, Francis, and their audiences still remain caught–leaving the most challenging and salient points of Julia’s struggle to be understood and believed up for welcome debate long after the credits roll.
Watcher had its premiere at the 2022 Sundance Film Festival and is currently seeking distribution.
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Sundance 2022: AFTER YANG
Kogonada’s follow-up to COLUMBUS is a grief-stricken scifi drama.
Colin Farrell in AFTER YANG. Courtesy A24 Films. In his introduction before the Sundance 2022 screening of After Yang, writer/director Kogonada talked about reading a short story about loss that stayed with him. He adapted that story, “Saying Goodbye to Yang” by Alexander Weinstein, into his second feature film. Parents Jake (Colin Farrell, In Bruges) and Kyra (Jodie Turner-Smith, Queen and Slim) are at a loss when Yang (Justin H. Min, The Umbrella Academy), the android they purchased years ago, enters a shut-down mode and can’t be reawakened. Their child Mika (Malea Emma Tjandrawidjaja) is devastated, as she views Yang as an older sibling and close friend.
Set in a future where computers are something similar to Google Glasses, there are no cars (but underground electric vehicles instead), and clothing is comfy-looking leisurewear made of natural fabrics, in After Yang, Kogonada creates a believable someday. Tech here is less invasive than our own — unless one owns a “technosapiens” who lives with the family. In his dealings with a conspiracy-theorist technician, Jake is told that Yang was designed to preserve a quick moment in time each day. From here on, the film explores the theme of memory.
Yang’s memories are given the full screen treatment, whereas most of the film is in letterbox, with video chats blocked in Academy aspect ratio. These glimpses into Yang become immersive, as a sort of VR experience is simulated for the viewer. The captured moments also appear brighter; other domestic scenes between the family are darkly lit, with faces almost obscured at times. While other long shots and dark scenes tend to keep the viewer at a remove, the android’s memories grab our full attention as we learn more about the thousands of seconds that Yang chose to treasure.
Kogonada’s second film lacks the warmth of Columbus, steeped more in a cold melancholy. Farrell keeps stoic throughout, but he does get to deliver a near spot-on impression of Werner Herzog in a discussion with Yang. Min, as Yang, is a particular standout here, showing up in remembrances by Jake and Kyra and making the most of his limited time on screen. When he tells Kyra, “There’s no something without nothing,” the weight of his declaration is not lost on the viewer. After Yang remains beautiful in its imperfection.
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Sundance 2022: WHEN YOU FINISH SAVING THE WORLD is a Heartwarming Portrait of Two Oblivious…
Jesse Eisenberg debuts a shockingly assured vision at Sundance 2022
I appreciate Jesse Eisenberg as an actor. I know his dry awkwardness may not be for everyone, but I find it comes from a genuine place and his choice of projects over the years has only endeared him as someone not afraid to push his boundaries with his turns in less commercial fare like The Art of Self Defense and Vivarium. When I saw his feature length directorial debut When You Finish Saving the World was playing opening night on the Sundance schedule and starring Finn Wolfhard and Julianne Moore, needless to say that was an easy choice. The fact that A24 almost immediately picked it up only sweetened the deal as I sat down to watch my first virtual viewing of the fest.
Based on Eisenberg’s audiobook, the film follows Ziggy (Finn Wolfhard), your stereotypical high schooler, who spends his days in front of his PC performing his bubble gum folk rock on a twitch-like streaming service, and his neurotic suburban liberal mother, Evelyn (Julianne Moore). To put it nicely both are oblivious self absorbed narcissists, but only one is making a real difference by founding a shelter for domestic violence victims, while the other talks incessantly about his 20,000 followers for anyone who would listen. When Ziggy falls for Lila (Alisha Boe) a classmate, who is also a woman of color, and into politics, we begin to realize how out of touch he is when he attempts to be more “Woke” to win her favor. The film has the mother and son drifting apart as they fail to find what they need in each other, and venture elsewhere for that missing piece of their relationship.
Watching the film with its less than vague autobiographical subtext, it’s painful at times how self aware Eisenberg is here and how he freely explores his artistic and social shortcomings through Ziggy. It’s cringeworthy as it is insightful, as Ziggy prattles on about his “commercially viable” ventures tone deaf to those around him. His mother, who’s all but given up on her son, has taken to quasi “adopting”, an underprivileged classmate of Ziggy’s, who is staying in the shelter with his mother. As the two navigate their own minefields of social interactions and best intentions, they eventually make their way back to one another. The taut script is a timely snapshot of the nuclear family, and in less than 90s minutes Finn and Moore do the sheer unimaginable, by giving us a way in to care about these less than likable characters.
When You Finish Saving the World is reminiscent of Ladybird, offering up the kind of candid coming of age train wreck that charming as it is painful to watch. Filled with some truly remarkable performances, Eisenberg debuts a shockingly assured vision that is as concise as it is sincere in its comedic takedown of its protagonists and in turn himself. I have a feeling he’s read more than a few posts about his turn as Lex Luthor. I was completely floored by World and it was a shockingly strong start to my Sundance experience, giving me another filmmaker to keep an eye out for going forward. Luckily you won’t have long to wait to check this film out since it already has distribution from A24.
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Sundance 2022: FIRE OF LOVE
Sara Dosa’s documentary is an impressive study of love and volcanoes.
Maurice and Katia Krafft, as seen in FIRE OF LOVE. Sara Dosa’s unusual documentary Fire of Love, which premiered on the opening night of Sundance Film Festival 2022, uses decades of film to tell the love story of Katia and Maurice Krafft and the strong adoration they both held for volcanoes. Narration from performance artist and filmmaker Miranda July (Me and You and Everyone We Know, The Future) provides a thoughtful context to the visuals, which are primarily composed of movies made by the Kraffts and their friends. While telling the story of this married pair of scientists, the film provides a strong sense of the intense, and immense, power of the natural world.
In the hands of Dosa and the Kraffts, we’re shown the beautiful seduction of a lava flow, the sensuality of new rock created by lava. There’s a compelling wonder to the destructive and creative nature of these volcanoes. July explains, “You fall hard for what you know, harder for what you don’t.” The Kraffts — she a geochemist and he a geologist — are driven to learn as much as they can from studying active volcanoes, yet remain aware of the peril in their “kamikaze existence,” as Maurice would call it.
Editors Erin Casper and Jocelyn Chaput show true insight in their manner of collaging decades-worth of the Kraffts’ films. There’s a keen wit throughout Fire of Love; the novel storytelling style encourages affection for the Kraffts, while also exhibiting the dangers. As the viewer is told of their death early on (Maurice even predicted how he would die), it’s more a question of exactly when than how. There’s no strict chronology to the work, as it wanders through the years by volcano visits and eruptions.
The electronic scoring by French musician Nicolas Godin (of Air) perfectly complements the film. The music amplifies feelings of playfulness, reverence, and contemplation, while also sounding like something of the couple’s time, in the early days of synthesizers. Fire of Love is utterly charming, never twee, and is likely one of the most memorable documentaries I’ll see this year.
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DUNE 4K UHD is Worth its Weight in Spice
A staggering amount of special features and an unrivaled 4K transfer ease a long wait for ‘Dune: Part Two’
Dune follows Paul Atreides (Timothée Chalamet), the heir to one of many powerful houses that exert a tenuous rule over the reaches of space. Ruled over by a powerful Emperor, each of the houses vie for control of the Spice—a substance that fuels everything from psychic powers to interstellar travel. Spice is only found on the massive desert planet Arrakis, once commanded by Baron Harkonnen (a very Captain Kurtz Stellan Skarsgård), who is suddenly removed by the Emperor and replaced with House Atreides. Facing a power vacuum the universe has never seen before, Paul and his family seek to earn the trust of the Arrakis natives, the Fremen, in order to form an alliance that could upend the balance of power forever. The Fremen also have their own prophecy of a Messiah—the Lisan al Gaib, an off-world prophet who may deliver them from the bondage of their oppressors. With Paul’s vivid dreams coming to shocking reality once he’s on Arrakis, the day of reckoning may soon be coming for all the houses vying for ultimate control of the universe.
For all intents and purposes, I’m very much a Dune neophyte in that my only brushes with Frank Herbert’s source material have been with its varied cinematic adaptations. The early 2000s SyFy adaptation was ambitious in its own right, a fun bit of multi-night popcorn TV that did its best to tackle such dense material on a very made-for-TV budget. Despite its very vocal detractors, I’m a fan of David Lynch’s 1984 adaptation, which melds its director’s signature grotesque and insular vision with a grand, operatic scale that often feels more Lean than Lynch, with a Toto-composed soundtrack as an awesome bonus. Despite never ultimately making it to the screen, Alejandro Jodorowsky’s Dune feels like it would have been armrest-gripping and mind-melting, with its many liberties to the source material in the service of further interrogating the emotional and cultural connections its audience has with the original work. Herbert’s messianic sci-fi saga has provided inspiration for everything ranging from Star Wars to The Matrix to Harry Potter, but Dune in its own right has proven to be material that auteurs can vividly bring to life with their own signature approach—should they be up for the daunting task.
Naturally, the internet went ablaze when Quebecois director Denis Villeneuve rose to the challenge, fresh off the success of 2016’s Arrival and 2017’s Blade Runner 2049. Here, Villeneuve ambitiously promised a sprawling, two-part film event akin to financier Warner Brothers’ recently-greenlit second half of Stephen King’s It, though much more in succession to Peter Jackson’s beloved Lord of the Rings. Where previous versions had been handicapped by length or budget, here was the potential for a Dune adaptation with the resources and patience it deserves. As with most things, though, there was a catch: while he was given a stellar ensemble and a sizable budget, the go-ahead for a Dune finale was conditional on the box-office success of Villeneuve’s first entry. A pandemic and a day-and-date agreement to simultaneously release Warner Brothers’ theatrical films on HBOMax later, signs pointed to a dire fate for Dune.
Right off the bat with its Part One subtitle, though, Villeneuve’s adaptation doesn’t go quietly into that good night, and instead swings for the fences with intricately detailed worldbuilding, lived-in production design, scorchingly precise cinematography, and bombastic score. For all of its modern sleekness, Villeneuve and designer Patrice Vermette lean Dune: Part One directly into a timeless feel. Combining a neo-futuristic brutalist architecture, a nomadic and arcane natural aesthetic, and an endlessly retrofitted approach to technological advancement, the worlds of Dune: Part One feel like they bear the weight of centuries of progress and regression. A dedication to practical sets and effects, captured in staggering detail by cinematographer Grieg Fraser, makes Arrakis feel gritty and tangible, with blazing, windswept desert vistas that threaten to swallow defiant structures whole like the statue of Ozymandias.
All of this design is in service to a story that is given ample time to organically develop emotionally, despite miring audiences in thick discourse over interstellar political intrigue. Villeneuve and co-screenwriters John Spaihts and Eric Roth manage to keep a delicate balance between visual spectacle and nitty-gritty scenework, knowing that big-budget bombast means little if we can’t latch onto why we give a damn about powerful dynasties fighting over sand. What’s more challenging is how Paul, as one of the original sci-fi everymen thrust into cosmic greatness, is pretty bland until he’s set onto the messianic path. The amount of time given to exploring Paul’s nascent positions of power, though, allows Spaihts, Roth, and Villeneuve to engage with his reluctance to assume a role he’s been groomed to take centuries before his birth. Nestled within this, too, is a reckoning with his concurrent role as part of a ruling class whose status is built on aggressively taking resources from conquered planets. With this version of Dune, Paul’s messiah isn’t just one who comes in to selflessly right wrongs as ordained: He’s a boy who must accept and learn from the flaws of those who bore him into the world, and determine what’s right from that rocky, sand-strewn path. As a result, this iteration of Dune becomes an emotionally satisfying standalone work, one that could succeed on its own merits regardless of how studio whims ultimately determined its fate.
Warner Brothers’ 4K UHD release of Dune: Part One is a fantastic way to spend the next two years awaiting for a thankfully green-lit Part Two, with a lengthy library of in-depth special features that detail the immense intricacies of a mammoth production and champion a rarity in bold, big-budget genre storytelling.
Video/Audio
Warner Bros presents Dune in its original 2.39:1 aspect ratio in 2160p 4K resolution on the 4K UHD, and 1080p on the accompanying Blu-ray disc.
Audio-wise, for the 4K UHD there are Dolby Atmos tracks available in English, German, and Italian; 5.1-Channel Dolby Digital tracks in English, French, German, Italian, and Spanish (Latin & Castilian); 5.1-Channel Descriptive Audio tracks in English (U.S. & U.K.); and a 2.0-Channel Descriptive Audio track in German. Included subtitles are in English SDH, Cantonese, Danish, Finnish, French, German, Greek, Italian, Korean, Mandarin (Traditional), Norwegian, Spanish (Castilian & Latin), and Swedish.
On the Blu-ray, the English Atmos and 5.1-Channel tracks are duplicated, as are the 5.1-Channel Czech, French, Hindi, Hungarian, Japanese, Polish, Portuguese, Spanish (Latin), and English Descriptive Audio tracks. Included Blu-ray feature subtitles are in English SDH, Bulgarian, Czech, French, Hindi, Hungarian, Japanese, Polish, Portuguese (Brazilian), Romanian, and Spanish (Latin). Blu-ray Special Features are subtitled in English, French, Spanish, Portuguese, Czech, Hungarian, and Polish.
For my money, this may be one of the most (if not the most) impressive home video presentations this year. While 4K and Atmos options were available during Dune’s day-and-date streaming period on HBOMax, this disc’s reference-quality 4K video and audio easily blow digital options out of the water and ensure that the theatrical experience prized by Dune’s creators has an honorable analog on home video. The sprawling architecture, chipped ship metal, and fine textures of Patrice Vermette’s production design and Jacqueline West and Robert Morgan’s costumes are all captured with exacting detail. This is no small feat, as the film must also contend with towering sandstorms made up of fine particles of spice and earth, as well as the thin, interlacing scales of monstrous sandworms. The HDR transfer particularly highlights the moments when Villeneuve and Frasier play with the vast color palette at their disposal, from the haunting blue eyes of the Fremen to the interplay of fire and shadow during the film’s midpoint Sardaukar battle sequence.
The film’s Dolby Atmos track is equally stellar, finding a nuanced balance between the dialogue, Hans Zimmer’s primal and visceral score, and the complex layering of electronic noise and natural desert Foley work that brings Arrakis to life. It’s a mix meant for as many speakers as possible—and will welcomely push many home video enthusiasts’ setups to their limits.
Special Features:
[Note: all of the film’s special features are on the 4K UHD’s accompanying Blu-ray disc. Press notes state that on DVD-only copies of Dune, only the Royal Houses special feature is included.]
- The Royal Houses: Villeneuve and the cast breakdown the overarching political conflict of Dune between House Atreides and House Harkonnen, and detail how their individual characters play their roles within them.
- Filmbooks: Stylized after the virtual learning tools used by Paul before his arrival on Arrakis, these mini-mythology lessons in Dune lore provide a deeper dive into the sprawling universe Frank Herbert originally created, while also providing equally intricate glimpses into the extent of the film’s production design in realizing these details for the screen. Divided into House Atreides, House Harkonnen, The Bene Gesserit, The Fremen, and The Spice Melange.
- Inside Dune: Villeneuve, the cast, and the crew guide us through three of the film’s stellar action sequences on a thematic and practical level. In the Training Room, choreographer Roger Yuan notes the specific styles of Kali martial arts that went into shielded sword fighting in order to reveal the characters through their specific approach to battle. In the Spice Harvester, the film’s concept artists and visual effects designers discuss how the sequence was broken down into its practicality, not just in terms of the film’s lore (how would a spice harvester really work?), but also in how the timing and length of each shot was carefully choreographed to preserve the film’s budget while delivering powerful imagery. The Sardaukar Battle highlights Jason Momoa’s dedication towards perfecting his legion-on-one fight sequence at the film’s climactic second act. Divided into The Training Room, The Spice Harvester, and The Sardaukar Battle.
- Building the Ancient Future: The meticulousness of the film’s production design is on full display, with most efforts done practically, from the expansive concrete and wood of the film’s interiors to the hulking metal of the various air and spacecrafts featured throughout. It’s amazing to see the film’s crew dwarfed by the size of the sets in a world where a tenth of these sets are usually built to save time and money.
- My Desert, My Dune: Villeneuve details how important nailing the natural elements of Arrakis were to the overall film, which has its own origins in respecting the original designs at the heart of Frank Herbert’s book.
- Constructing the Ornithopters: The genesis behind the insect-like flying machines of Arrakis is broken down, from the deliberately low-tech impulses behind their creation to the insane amount of detail realized by the film’s VFX and production teams.
- Designing the Sandworm: Decades of potential designs of Dune’s legendary desert creature went into the physicality and biology of this current design, skewing more towards realism in order to create a paradoxically fantastical emotional response in the audience.
- Beware the Baron: Stellan Skarsgård’s brief yet terrifying antagonist is profiled, using prosthetics and Skarsgård’s natural talents to create a memorable villain that overshadows the action of the film.
- Wardrobe From Another World: We dive into the inspirations and the logistical efforts behind the film’s sprawling costume designs, guided by designer Jacqueline West. Further detailed are the textures and colors specific to houses and characters.
- A New Soundscape: Key to Villeneuve’s approach is to create a world that no one has seen before, an ambitious scope that extends to the film’s soundtrack and sound design, all of which were developed in tandem with the production process rather than after-the-fact.
Dune is now available on 4K UHD, Blu-ray, and DVD courtesy of Warner Bros.
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PARALLEL MOTHERS is Pedro Almodóvar and Penélope Cruz’s Best Collaboration Yet
Inherited trauma bleeds through Almodóvar’s movie about memory and motherhood.
Actress Penélope Cruz and filmmaker Pedro Almodóvar have worked together on several previous films — All About My Mother and Volver, among others — but Parallel Mothers may be their best collaboration yet. Cruz leads the cast as Janis, a professional photographer approaching 40 who becomes pregnant by her married lover. In delivery, she shares a hospital room with Ana (Milena Smit, Cross the Line) and befriends the sheltered teen.
This is a very basic breakdown of the plot, but Almodóvar, as usual, has created a story with multiple levels and parallels. There’s even an uncertain timeline, which leaves the viewer guessing by the size of a child and a few quick glimpses of dates how much time has passed since the action of the film kicks off in 2016.
Inherited trauma bleeds through Parallel Mothers. From the start, we hear about the murder of Janis’ great-grandfather, along with other men in his village, by Franco’s regime. Her strongest desire, one shared by many in her hometown, is to excavate the field where they suspect the bodies were left in a mass grave. Janis is overly patient, self-aware, and focused. She isn’t easily rattled, although factors lead to her becoming so. Cruz brings a tenacity and warmth to the character; it’s easy to see how others are drawn to Janis.
Almodóvar chooses to explore different experiences of motherhood in the film: the mother whose husband was stolen from her life by a dictator; the mother who yearns for a career in acting and loses custody of her daughter; the mother whose child dies unexpectedly; the mother who can’t care for her child; and Janis, who loves her daughter but has certain doubts.
The insistent scoring by Alberto Iglesias plays like it’s written to accompany a psychological drama or thriller, reminiscent of something by Bernard Herrman. I honestly felt a tad misled by the score, expecting something horrifying to be just around the corner while the film actually leans more towards a classic melodrama. I could appreciate the musical choices more upon my second viewing.
The importance of community is central to Parallel Mothers, as women friends (such as Rossy de Palma, who plays Janis’ dearest friend) and neighbors care for each other. Israel Elejalde figures in as a love interest who also happens to be a forensic archeologist working on the mass grave, but the attention here is on the women left behind and the women they’ve raised. In this soulful film filled with unexpected twists, Pedro Almodóvar once again shows himself to be a filmmaker who knows the value of women’s voices and work.
Parallel Mothers opens theatrically in Austin on Fri, Jan. 21 at Regal Arbor.
