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  • Two Cents Opens Up THE BIRDCAGE

    Two Cents Opens Up THE BIRDCAGE

    “I just never realized John Wayne walked like that.”

    Two Cents is a Cinapse original column akin to a book club for films. The Cinapse team curates the series and contribute their “two cents” using a maximum of 200-400 words. Guest contributors and comments are encouraged, as are suggestions for future picks. Join us as we share our two cents on films we love, films we are curious about, and films we believe merit some discussion. Would you like to be a guest contributor or programmer for an upcoming Two Cents entry? Simply watch along with us and/or send your pitches or 200-400 word reviews to cinapse.twocents@gmail.com.

    With the times being as tough as they are and many different groups trying to hold on to their place in this scary society, it’s obvious that Pride month was going to look a little different this year. However, we here at Cinapse have decided that not only are we going to celebrate the month, but we will celebrate it with a collection of titles that have an undeniable edge to them. As varied as the month’s films may be, each one succeeds in pushing boundaries as their collection of themes, not to mention their very existence, represents the kind of defiance that only stellar art can conjure up. 

    When it was decided that May’s Two Cents theme should honor the work of the late Gene Hackman, my instinct was to raise my hand for The Poseidon Adventure since that movie contains my favorite of his performances. After a friend of mine asked me why I didn’t throw in The Birdcage, I had no valid answer for him. The first selection of this June’s Two Cents corrects that as we kick off the month with one of the most groundbreaking comedies of the ’90s, which was not only a solid moneymaker but a classic with laughs that remains as potent as ever. 

    The Pick: The Birdcage

    Based on the hit stage musical La Cage aux Follies, The Birdcage tells the story of drag club owner Armand (Robin Williams) and his star performer/romantic partner Albert (Nathan Lane) who must deal with the news that the former’s son (Dan Futterman) is getting married to the daughter (Calista Flockhart) of a conservative Senator and his wife (Hackman and Dianne Wiest). 

    Our Guests:

    Jerry Downey

    Few movies are as necessary Pride Month watches as The Birdcage, which is not just a perfect gay film, but a perfect film. Period. It’s a screamingly funny comedy that also has an undeniable amount of heart baked in, ultimately showing what it is to be a family – no coincidence that the Goldman Girls’ “We Are Family” is the cornerstone of the soundtrack. Admittedly, every facet of the production – both in front of and behind the camera – is executed flawlessly, but the joys of this film lie in the acting performances, so that’s where I’m choosing to focus. Of course, those performances are built on the sharp screenplay of Elaine May (which must average out to a zinger every thirty seconds) and the laudable direction of Mike Nichols, who proves, once again, that he is a master at guiding actors on film. Special mention must also be made of Emmanuel Lubeski’s cinematography. The opening tracking shot of South Beach is one for the books and kicks the movie off with a bang.

    As stated above, the performances in The Birdcage are what cement it as a comedic masterpiece. Every performance is perfectly calibrated, down to the smaller featured roles like Christine Baranski’s wryly flirtatious birth mother. Point me to a more deserving winner of the SAG Award for Outstanding Performance by a Cast and I’ll happily explain to you why you’re wrong. In fact, for my money, all five of the actors below should have Oscar nominations for their work here.

    Hank Azaria’s outlandish housekeeper, Agador, gives a virtuosic physical comedy performance. When he says he can’t wear shoes because they make him fall down, it in no way prepares you for how riotously funny it is to watch him try (and fail) to survive a night walking around in shoes. Gene Hackman and Dianne Wiest’s ultra-conservative parents are both absolutely hilarious. Hackman’s deadpan delivery, particularly in his stilted monologue about foliage, is a hoot, and Wiest’s unfailingly chipper demeanor just gets all the funnier as it starts to chip away during the dinner party sequence. Her delivery of, “Somebody has to like me best!” before breaking down in tears is one of my favorite moments in the entire movie. On top of all this, their eventual escape from the drag club is nothing short of perfection.

    This entire article could be focused on Robin Williams and Nathan Lane, who are both giving career-best performances here. They bring such lived-in qualities to the relationship of Armand and Albert – the way they bicker, the way they walk together – it’s easy to see that these two have been doing this for 20 years. What’s most gratifying about their performances is how comfortable they are as themselves, which is the whole crux of the deception they’re asked to put on. These are two gay men fully at ease with themselves who are being tasked with dismantling that for one night.

    Williams wisely decided against playing Albert, opting for the less flamboyant Armand. While his role is no less comic than the rest, he is a decided grounding force to most of the proceedings, and he does it so skillfully. Just thinking of his best moments shows the range he brings to the character – the entire choreographer directive (“Madonna! Madonna! Madonna! But you keep it all inside.”) compared to his exceptional dressing down of his son (“Yes, I’m a middle-aged fag. But I know who I am.”) It’s exquisite work.

    Speaking of exquisite, there are not enough words to convey how stunning Nathan Lane is in this movie. Yes, Albert could easily be seen as strictly stereotypical, but not for one moment do you doubt that this is who Albert is and how secure he is in himself, even in his most overdramatic moments. Like Williams, Lane’s adept comic sensibilities are what make his performance sing – from his piercing of the toast to any number of his lines as he masquerades as Mother Coleman in front of the Keeleys (my personal favorite being the explanation of why they keep confusing their last name “Cole of the Isle of Man in France”). That these are balanced by moments of true heartbreak are what level it up to masterful. Lane does so little, just the lowering of his voice’s volume or a slight saddening of the eyes, but just that slight departure from his more vivacious persona makes dialogue like, “I’m not young, I’m not new and everyone laughs at me. I’m quite aware of how ridiculous I am,” land like a gut-punch. In a just world, Lane would have been winning every Best Actor award in existence that year.

    If you’ve never seen The Birdcage, there’s never been a better time than Pride month to fix that (though, admittedly, this is a movie that I classify as an “anytime” watch). If you haven’t revisited it in a while, do so as soon as you can. It remains fresh and hysterical on every single rewatch. Between the constant laughs and the perfectly deployed slapstick – seriously, the entire dinner sequence is genius – there’s joy of a different kind to see too. A happily settled gay couple going above and beyond for their child’s happiness. If that’s not family, I don’t know what is. Happy Pride!

    jerrydowney on Letterboxd

    Eoin Daly

    The Birdcage, like only the best Mike Nichols-directed films, is pretty flawless to a degree that its brilliance goes overlooked in favor of more visually risk-taking features from auteurs of Nichols’ generation. Featuring one of the greatest ensembles ever formed, each actor regardless of the size of their part, brings a necessary charisma to make this narrative so impactful. Whether it’s the genuine chemistry between Williams and Lane as lovers, the chaotic support of Hank Azaria, or the pleasant humor of Wiest and Hackman as the disapproving parents, each cast member brings their all to the comedic drama.

    Nichols reuniting with Elaine May, who adapts the screenplay from the play La Cage aux Folles, imbues this production with such comforting moments of comedy. I could watch this film multiple times throughout my life and have done so since first discovering it decades ago.

    The film earning its sole Academy Award nomination for Art Direction is absolutely deserved as the production values of this film are indeed stunning with so much character detail featured that lifts up the uniqueness of this narrative. The Birdcage for its brilliance is sadly a film of its kind no longer made by major film studios. Yet nearly three decades from its original release we must do our best to appreciate its greatness and yearn for the day when movies of its kind can be made again.

    a22f on Letterboxd

    The Team:

    Ed Travis

    This was my first time seeing The Birdcage and I’m grateful for the programming opportunity to both check out the film as the beginning of our Pride/Riot theme and as a final homage to Gene Hackman as well. While I enjoyed The Birdcage, I don’t think it hit profoundly for me either as a comedy or a drama. That said, the film totally works and clicks together and I understand the beloved status it has garnered. I’m just not necessarily much of a farce guy, all told. By that I mean, this is a farce that works, is filled with earnest performances, ratcheting tension and ridiculousness, all paced quite well. That kind of thing just isn’t necessarily what’s going to make me laugh out loud. In terms of pure comedy, I feel that Hank Azaria’s Agador steals this show if one is simply gauging how many times I actually did laugh out loud. The bit where he can’t wear shoes is just pure comedy gold.

    But probably the biggest highlight of the film was the sincerity. The inherent tragedy of the entire premise of needing to hide a loving, committed, (if high maintenance), gay marriage to appease powerful outsiders really comes through due to the incredible chemistry and connection between Robin Williams’ Armand and Nathan Lane’s Albert. Sure, the film is flamboyant, over the top, and ludicrous at times. But the beating heart is there from the earliest moments and the genuine love and earnest sadness of having to hide comes through in ways I didn’t expect for a film with such a raucous reputation. I will say I’ll never unsee the horrifying visual of Gene Hackman in drag, but dammit, the man committed to the bit and the image is indelible. 

    @Ed Travis on Bluesky

    Justin Harlan

    Two words: Hank Azaria. HANK FUCKING AZARIA. I’ll never get over how much I love him in this film. 

    Ok, now that that’s out of the way. This is not only a great film, but a landmark. While not the first Hollywood film with LGBTQ+ lead characters, it celebrates these characters in a fun, comedic way that few films before it did and was the first queer film to achieve such levels of commercial success. The film is unapologetically queer, while also normalizing gay lifestyles in both big and casual ways. The mixed cast of actors of different sexualities and orientations, including a handful of actors who were at the top of the Hollywood food chain, and many playing roles different than their own, also helps to hit home the clear intent of the film to normalize lifestyles not considered normal at the time.

    Thematically built on family, love, and facing the stigmas of its day, it’s proven a timeless tale. Watching children grow up, blending families together, and unconditional love… the themes of family and what we’re able and willing to put aside for family will always resonate. This is especially true when you have such a strong script and cast.

    This all said, I cannot understate the cackle I cackled when Hackman’s Senator Kevin Keeley dismisses getting the wedding blessed by Billy Graham because he’s “too liberal”.

    @thepaintedman on Bluesky

    Frank Calvillo

    Comedy-wise, The Birdcage hasn’t aged a day. The pacing brilliantly serves both the farcical and romantic comedy sides to the movie, while the soundtrack and production design help to make the world that Armand and Albert share truly pop off the screen. Many comedic moments remain classics, including Agador (Hank Azaria’s) hopelessly failing at being a butler, Louise’s (Wiest) ongoing attempts to make the best of everything, Kevin’s (Hackman) description of trees and leaves, and all of Albert’s many surprised wails and cries. The movie’s dialogue only adds to the laughter. Lines such as Armand describing their current predicament by saying: “It’s like riding a psychotic horse toward a burning stable,” remain priceless. Every viewing is another chance to marvel at the very special rhythm throughout the near-impeccable script. Quips like: “’You look tired’ means ‘you look old’ and ‘you look rested’ means ‘you’ve had collagen,’” prove it rarely gets any better than this.  

    Seeing The Birdcage in theaters back in 1996, I wasn’t sure I was ready for all the jokes that were being thrown at me or the significance behind them. Truth be told, it took me a couple of minutes to realize that was Hackman dressed in drag in the finale. What I did know was that the movie’s brilliant use of physical comedy and zany energy made it a winner in my eyes. 

    Watching the movie in recent years, it’s hard to overstate just how incredibly revolutionary a feat it was. Even more incredible is the pedigree behind the project, which, besides its A-list cast, includes top-tier director Mike Nichols and legendary screenwriter Elaine May. Clashing political ideologies, a gay romance, ethnic divides, and drag queens are all key themes within The Birdcage, and each one manages to give a stellar look at the ‘90s relationship with those elements. If all that wasn’t enough, The Birdcage also brilliantly challenges the audience to ask themselves: What actually defines a family? In an age where drag shows are repeatedly under attack and the two parties have never been further apart, The Birdcage stands as a hilarious and poignant reminder of not only what’s changed, but what still needs to change. 

    @frank.calvillo.3 on Instagram

    Two Cents Celebrates the month of June with Pride/Riot

    Join us all month long for a collection of titles that spotlight the LGBTQ+ community with a mix of heart, edge, and defiance.

    June 9 – The Death & Life of Marsha P. Johnston (Netflix)
    June 16 – Velvet Goldmine (Internet Archive)
    June 23 – Stranger By The Lake– (Criterion Channel, Kanopy)
    June 30 – BPM (Kanopy, Pluto)

  • THE PHOENICIAN SCHEME: Wes Anderson Lets It All Burn

    THE PHOENICIAN SCHEME: Wes Anderson Lets It All Burn

    Wes Anderson lobs a gentle grenade at his wonderfully meticulous worlds

    Stills courtesy of Focus Features.

    I’ve loved seeing Wes Anderson’s style evolve from the offbeat yet realistic charm of Rushmore and The Royal Tenenbaums to fully controlled, hyper-stylized worlds like The Grand Budapest Hotel and Fantastic Mr. Fox. But with Asteroid City, the fastidious auteur turned that control inward, crafting a self-aware story where characters and actors alike search for meaning beyond their carefully constructed confines. His composed whimsy collided with existential dread on levels moral and creative, exposing a raw tension between emotional truth and aesthetic precision.

    The Phoenician Scheme pushes that tension further into remarkably explosive, morally charged territory. Anderson swaps petty squabbles for assassination plots and tenuous alliances between family and finance underscored by corporate greed, all amid his signature pastels. The film hums with a new, palpable anger, suggesting a director ready to blow up the world he so painstakingly built with a kindly tossed hand grenade. Yet even with its weighty themes and surreal detours painted with religion and regret, The Phoenician Scheme remains a wild, hilarious caper—playful, piercing, and unmistakably Wes Anderson.

    After surviving yet another assassination attempt, global industry titan Anatole Zsa-Zsa Korda (Benicio Del Toro) yanks his estranged daughter Liesl (Mia Threapleton) from her remote convent, naming her his heir—on a “trial basis”—over her nine blood and adopted brothers. But the inheritance hinges on one condition: she must help him pull off his most audacious scheme yet—an ambitious infrastructure project in Modern Greater Independent Phoenicia, now at risk thanks to a market sabotage by Korda’s rivals and the U.S. government.

    With awkward tutor Bjorn (Michael Cera) by their side, Liesl is thrown into a surreal crash course in Korda-style capitalism: shady deals, eccentric powerbrokers, and constant moral compromise. There’s just one problem: Liesl still believes her father murdered her mother. To earn her trust and secure his legacy, Korda must unearth the truth and expose the real killer—all by legal means only, of course.

    Working with longtime collaborator Adam Stockhausen and legendary cinematographer Bruno Delbonnel, Wes Anderson crafts The Phoenician Scheme as a sun-baked spectacle caught between construction and decay. The film blends Casablanca-inspired cabarets, crumbling European estates, and lush jungle refuges for exiled revolutionaries into a world that’s both glamorous and gaudy. Like The Grand Budapest Hotel, its opulence masks a more profound desperation, where towering dams and gilded halls feel like monuments to tenuous power. Characters like Korda, nightclub kingpin Marseilles Bob (Mathieu Amalric), and idealistic builder Cousin Hilda (Scarlett Johansson) all share a need to conquer their environments, seeking validation or protection from forces as abstract as legacy, guilt, or the marching progress of time. Their answers are varied, yet the impulse is all the same–and despite having all the money in the world to throw at their intentions, things still risk springing a leak or falling apart.

    Anderson and Delbonnel’s biggest visual flourish lies in Bunuelian religious tableaux as Korda flits between life and death thanks to his myriad would-be assassins. Anderson’s afterlife is fittingly stripped of color – placed on a surreal heavenly trial, Korda must answer for his earthly sins without his usual colorful moral relativism at his disposal. Every waking return to Earth then becomes another opportunity for Korda to find such mortal clarity in his repairing relationship with his estranged, pious daughter. 

    The film’s ensemble is another menagerie of single scene-stealing appearances by new faces among Anderson’s cast of regulars, with hilarious standouts from evil bearded Benedict Cumberbatch, bombastic basketball-wielding baron brothers Tom Hanks and Bryan Cranston, and a long-awaited turn by Cera as a gut-busting Andersonian equivalent of a bumbling, well-intentioned himbo. However, The Phoenician Scheme unmistakably belongs to Del Toro and Threapleton. Korda is a megalomaniacal evolution of Royal Tenenbaum, a blustering absent patriarch with the bravado and flair of Charles Foster Kane. Korda has the debonair air of Del Toro’s Collector from Guardians of the Galaxy, coupled with all the weasely grit of Javier from Traffic. Beneath the swagger lies a man rattled by mortality, watching his empire and legacy teeter on the brink. For Korda, family and finance blur: both are assets to manage, leverage, or lose. When the end looms, his true returns depend on where he invested his time, trust, and love as much as what he’s able to build and leave behind. In comparison, Liesl is a daughter whose refusal to compromise her deeper moral beliefs gives her confidence and agency that these older, seemingly wiser industry leaders can only adopt for show. Threapleton’s deadpan wit against Del Toro’s absurd declarations is a winning comedic combo, with both gleaning needed moral flexibility or renewed emotional resolve when forced into insane conflict with each other. 

    Amid The Phoenician Scheme’s sprawling moral desert, Anderson questions the value of scruples in a world run by emotionless billionaires who treat people as props—both in business and in his own painstakingly composed frames. The film confronts whether integrity can survive in a system where power trumps principle, and where even human connection is just another asset to exploit. Nothing speaks to this more than Korda’s hilarious hoarding of hand grenades, which he gives out to business partners like olive branches of mutually assured destruction, all of which are accepted with “you’re too kind.” 

    It’s fascinating to see a filmmaker like Wes Anderson, whose success hinges on such creative yet obsessive artistry, center a character like Zsa-Zsa Korda–who seems, at first, utterly indifferent to such refinement. Yet beneath the bravado, Korda yearns for connection beyond power. He hires tutors like Bjorn to teach him what he can’t buy, pores over books on collapsed empires and forgeries as an escape from the possibility of another plane crash, and collects masterpieces (only masterpieces)—perhaps hoping to understand their value beyond price tags. As The Phoenician Scheme unfolds, it becomes clear that for Korda, building dams and tunnels is how he sculpts or paints. But estranged from the emotional truths that real art both conveys and is necessary for creation, Korda’s unbothered when his medium includes slave labor or famine. Beauty, for him, is still just conquest in disguise, and leaving a legacy is just a way of conquering death one last time. The world is just another fastidious project.

    That’s why The Phoenician Scheme feels like Anderson’s most self-indicting work yet. The creeping, fascistic indifference to art and beauty that lingered at the edges of The Grand Budapest Hotel has rotted into full decay in Korda’s world, while the existential despair of Asteroid City now stretches into cosmic judgment where values, not just actions, are on trial. Nowadays, Anderson seems consumed by the question: Why go on? 

    Why make art or hold faith in people when they both can be reduced to capital, or obliterated in an instant by corporate greed or a well-placed grenade?

    Though Anderson’s films have always carried a bitter undercurrent, this is the first to let that bitterness literally bleed in copious quantities. The opening plane crash, staged with his signature precision and whimsy, is exhilarating in its absurdity yet truly shocking in its violence — a tricky emotional balancing act that only grows more complicated as the film progresses. People take bullets for each other as much as they self-explode. Chandeliers shatter for laughs, and bitter rivalries explode in scenic destruction. A bad contract is enough to stop someone from giving blood to someone else mid-transfusion. It’s so damn funny but so deeply sad, exposing the fragility of everything Anderson’s style tries to preserve. 

    The result is a film that’s riotously funny yet quietly devastating, one whose lovely humor struggles to offset the film’s sincere questions about its own worth. The Phoenician Scheme remains quite haunting and enigmatic, lingering as a reckoning more than a hilarious caper. There are still defiant glimmers of hope: a mid-credits declaration forbidding any usage of it to train AI serves as a necessary stand for creative agency, while the finale set in another picturesque Anderson setting strips away splendor to embrace chaotic simplicity.

    That The Phoenician Scheme is polarizing compared to its director’s earlier films is no surprise. Hopefully, it marks the continuation of a bold new phase where Wes Anderson continues to blend joy with sorrow, artifice with sincere inquiry, and precision with profound unease.

    The Phoenician Scheme opens in theaters on June 6th courtesy of Focus Features.

  • THE PHOENICIAN SCHEME is a Cracking (but Lacking) Comedy Caper

    THE PHOENICIAN SCHEME is a Cracking (but Lacking) Comedy Caper

    Wes Anderson’s Latest delivers the quirks and charm you expect, but lacks the emotional hook of his earlier works

    A new Wes Anderson film is to be celebrated. A chance to once again immerse ourselves in his singular blend of stylization and strangely moving storytelling. The Phoenician Scheme, his latest, unsurprisingly doesn’t fall outside his oeuvre. But it charts new terrain, specifically, the fictional Middle Eastern country of Modern Greater Independent Phoenicia, in what amounts to an international caper laced with assassination attempts, family drama, and the question of legacy.

    Anatole “Zsa-Zsa” Korda (Benicio del Toro) is a weathered industrialist with a murky past and a complicated present. His latest scheme, a sprawling infrastructure project involving tunnels, waterways, and an ambiguously-defined “hydroelectric embankment”, is on the brink of collapse. Government forces led by Mr. Excalibur (Rupert Friend) aim to bankrupt him by manipulating the market for “bashable rivets and crushed gravel,” and Zsa-Zsa, facing financial and possibly spiritual ruin, turns to the one person he hopes can secure his legacy, his estranged daughter, Liesl (Mia Threapleton).

    There are a few problems. One, Liesl is about to become a nun. Two, she believes Zsa-Zsa may have murdered her mother. And three, she’s not exactly impressed by the fact that her father, who has dismissed his nine other sons as unworthy heirs, is only now showing up.

    A tenuous reconciliation in place, forged under the promise of uncovering the truth behind the murder, as well as some moral adjustments to the business plan (paying slaves for starters), the pair set off to try and salvage the scheme. Enlisted in this misadventure is Korda’s new tutor Professor Bjorn (Michael Cera), a man whose love for insects is in danger of being surpassed by his growing affections for Liesl.

    After the sprawling structure, warmth, nostalgia, and ruminations on life and its meaning in Asteroid City, The Phoenician Scheme feels positively pared down in comparison. A more traditional structure befitting an international caper with an emphasis on more propulsive fun, with the emotional through-line of a broken father-daughter relationship. This heist-like affair sees them criss-crossing the region, making deals, dabbling in blackmail and lectures on insects, and reforging family ties, all while Zsa-Zsa continues to evade the many assassination attempts that have long plagued his life. Scenes and settings serve as playful set pieces, each allowing a series of Anderson regulars (notably a chance to make their mark, most notably as the key investors Marty (Jeffrey Wright), Cousin Hilda (Johansson), Marseille Bob (Mathieu Amalric) and Zsa-Zsa’s brother, Uncle Nubar (Benedict Cumberbatch in full Rasputin mode). There are also newcomers to the troupe, notably Riz Ahmed as a charming Phoenician prince with a gift for diplomacy and layups, and Michael Cera as the delightfully off-beat Swede Bjorn. How it took Anderson this long to work him into a film is beyond me.

    Del Toro anchors the film as Zsa-Zsa with, playing him as this quick thinking swindler who is thrown for a loop by his reckoning with mortality and also the accountability served up by his daughter. who is all wounded charm and economic immorality, only starting to grasp the moral weight of his choices. His deadpan delivery and pitch perfect timing is matched by Mia Threapleton. Her Liesl is stoic, conflicted, empathetic, and drolly hilarious. It’s a breakout turn and one that is crucial to the success of this duo that really forms the core of the film.

    Visually, the film is everything you expect and more. Adam Stockhausen’s production design and Bruno Delbonnel’s cinematography are intoxicating: arid desert palettes meet 50s/60s kitsch, with surreal afterlife sequences shot in black-and-white. Every frame is packed with detail, but the settings, from opulent-yet-leaking mansions to endless scaffolding, reflect a world quite literally crumbling beneath the weight of ambition.

    Anderson’s distinct sense of style is all present, but there’s a slightly darker edge to this outing, one that is lacking in its development. The whimsy is tempered by a steady thread of unease: famine by design, slave labor as a line item, legacies built on suffering. There are sharp jabs at modern oligarchs and the commodification of human lives, as well as a subtle but clear meditation on religion, repentance, and the high cost of redemption. Not just concerning a man who places money over everything, but also the morals of a failed father. The film gestures toward a redemption arc for Zsa-Zsa, and while the final scenes offer a quiet emotional closure, it all feels a little neat given the atrocities committed, the shaky foundations of this father/daughter relationship, and even the castigations of God (Bill Murray) being made apparent during his journey.

    Even with this shortfall in terms of emotional heft, The Phoenician Scheme remains a gorgeously constructed, gently absurdist odyssey. One that expansively (but not incisively) touches on legacy, morality, and the danger of building empires without building character. Even as a minor Wes Anderson film, it retains it’s ability to delight and disarm its audience.


    The Phoenician Scheme opens on June 6th


  • THE LIFE OF CHUCK is a Soothing Balm for the Soul

    THE LIFE OF CHUCK is a Soothing Balm for the Soul

    Mike Flanagan’s adaptation of this Stephen King novella is a life-affirming work

    The tagline for The Life of Chuck reads, “Each life is a universe all its own”. It’s a beautiful encapsulation of the film. A poignant, curious, and quietly moving meditation on life, memory, and legacy that feels both deeply intimate and cosmic in scope.

    Told in three acts presented in reverse, the story unfolds like a puzzle, slowly revealing the significance of Charles “Chuck” Krantz (a toe-tapping and tender performance from Tom Hiddleston, and) and why the entire world seems to be celebrating him as it falls apart. Act Three opens the film with billboards skywriting tributes, and radio and TV adverts proclaiming “Thanks for 39 Great Years, Chuck”. A strange campaign to wage given that the the end of days is approaching. The Earth is dying. Ravaged by global climate disasters and technological collapse. California has fallen into the sea, and the small American town we center in on, teeters on the brink. Here we meet Felicia (Karen Gillan), a doctor struggling to keep up with a surge of suicides, and Marty (Chiwetel Ejiofor), a schoolteacher and her ex, who clings to the belief that education still matters, even as parents and students give up. Their tender reunion as the chaos surges and the darkness closes in.

    Act Two unfolds 9 months earlier, as Chuck indulges in a spontaneous street dance with a heartbroken stranger, sparked by a busking drummer (The Pocket Queen) on the street. This glimpse of a cherished moment gives way to to the final act, the final act, the film’s first, chronologically. Landing with devastating grace, we see the tragedy of Chuck’s childhood (wonderfully played now by Jacob Tremblay and later Benjamin Pajak), as well the the figures and family that informed who he becomes. Notably his grandmother Bubbe Sarah (Mia Sara), who opens up Chuck to the worlds of music and dance, and his grandfather Albie (Mark Hamill). An accountant and man who who loves his grandson, yet is plagued by emotional weight, prone to drink, and when he does so, opens up with the occasional tale about a mysterious locked room in their house, the contents of which has great bearing on all their futures.

    A simple synopsis deliberately sidestepping details, hinting at the mystery of the tale, and frankly unable to capture the heart and soul of this film from Mike Flanagan (The Haunting of Hill House, Midnight Mass, Oculus). Adapted from Stephen King’s novella, it makes yet another phenomenal work that comes from their magical pairing after the critical success of Gerald’s Game and Doctor Sleep. Flanagan has proven an assured storyteller with an assured grasp of finding humanity within his preferred genre of horror.

    This is achieved by deft scripting, as well as an embarassment of riches when it comes to the cast. Beyond the measured and moving work of the trio portraying Chuck, the anchoring work of Ejiofor and Gillan, and the rich and loving work of Sarah and Hamill, the Supporting cast packed with talent such as Rahul Kohli, Kate Siegel, David Dastmalchian, Matthew Lillard, Carl Lumby, and Harvey Guillén, Violet McGraw, Heather Langenkamp, and Samantha Sloyan. Many of them familiar faces from past Flanagan projects, each making the most to the role and time afforded them to make a lingering impact.

    While the third (but first) act flits with reflections on where we’re going as a society, the encroachment of technology, and environmental issues, it all encircles this curious mystery about Chuck. The acts that delve into the past deepen this and offer up answers, with connective clues and elements straddling all three eras, resulting in a meaningful echo throughout Chuck’s life. His is a bittersweet tale, but one that is peppered with as much unexpected joy as doom and gloom. That’s how life typically is after all. The film wears its heart on its sleeve. Unabashedly sentimental, yes, but never manipulative. Like King’s The Green Mile or Stand By Me, it’s not about spectacle it’s about soul. And Flanagan, borrowing a line from Walt Whitman, gives us a lead character, and a worldview, that “contains multitudes”. It’s not just about Chuck’s potential as a kid, or the paths opened up to him, it’s about those we touch along the way and however far along we are, we always have the choice to change and to seek out joy in our own lives.


    The Life of Chuck is one of those special life-affirming films that comes along every once in a while that leaves you thinking and feeling more deeply. A soothing balm for the soul. Just a perfectly poignant, elegantly uplifting, and wonderfully wrought work from Mike Flanagan.


    The Life of Chuck hits select theaters on June 6th and opens wide on June 13th


  • The Chattanooga Film Festival Unleashes their 2025 Lineup!

    The Chattanooga Film Festival Unleashes their 2025 Lineup!

    The best US indie genre fest is back with another great program of soon to be cult favorites and hidden gems!

    One of my favorite genre film fests, the Chattanooga Film Festival is back for their 12th year, June 20-28, once again highlighting some of the freshest voices in indie horror, with their biggest program yet. This is thanks to not only their crackerjack programming team who definitely know how to pick’em, but their dual hybrid, virtual (June 20-28) and in person (June 20-22) flavors that lower the bar for fans to access a plethora of soon to be hidden gems and cult favorites. I’ve been covering the fest since 2020 and every year they somehow manage to surprise me with more titles that are seared into my brain, after seemingly coming out of nowhere. 

    This year they have around 130 short films and almost 50 feature films. I know short programs are sometimes treated like the bratty younger step sibling at festivals, but I think for genre fans, this program alone is worth the badge. Given they are specifically – the keyword here is, curating for the horror crowd – they really have the luxury to explore the breadth of the genre and its many sub-genres. So there’s some real care and thought in the variety there and some truly one of a kind discoveries since they have that scope as a festival. The feature selections are always an eclectic mix that also run the gamut of the genre from your tried and true slashers, to the more cerebral and surreal. 

    So there’s usually something for everyone along with their excellently curated Red Eye late night virtual screening series that also offers some off the beaten path late night virtual watch parties. This along with special live episodes of podcasts on site film fans will know, definitely make this another great outing for the fest. You can still pick up badges here! And if you’re looking for another reason, here’s a rundown of the current program for those on the fence:

    EXORCISMO (d. Alberto Sedano)

    Under the Franco dictatorship, Spain’s rigid censorship laws had repressed any form of sexuality outside of Catholic marriage. But after Franco’s death and the consolidation of democracy, ‘Clasificada S’ films – restricted to those over 18 years old, with the warning that their content may offend the sensibilities of the viewer – embodied a period in Spanish history when sex went from being a sin to becoming a cinematic expression of political freedom. In the new documentary EXORCISMO, director Alberto Sedano explores the history behind Clasificada S, the battles it fought, and the distinctive dramas, thrillers and horror shockers that subverted the values of the former dictatorship. Narrated by Iggy Pop, featuring revealing interviews with actors, directors, historians, and showcasing clips from films by Jess Franco, José Ramón Larraz, Ignacio Iquino and more, EXORCISMO tells the incredible true story of a film movement that rocked Spanish culture, changed the face of genre films, and left its transgressive mark on global cinema forever.

    FOUL EVIL DEEDS (d. Richard Hunter)

    A series of comedically dark vignettes that give way to a fragmented anthology of humanity’s everyday pettiness, as seen through the voyeuristic lens of a distanced point of view. Tapping into society’s addiction to the judgement of others, FOUL EVIL DEEDS is stacked with black humour amid the everyday cruelty of the banal suburban life.

    FAUST (1926; d. F. W. Murnau)
    Special Screening with Original Live Metal Score by The Silent Light

    God and Satan war over earth; to settle things, they wager on the soul of Faust, a learned and prayerful alchemist.

    FUCKTOYS (d. Annapurna Sriram)
    Special Screening

    Fucktoys is a lush, 16mm fever dream that reimagines The Fool’s Journey of the Major Arcana Tarot through the story of AP: a peppy, sanguine young woman seeking salvation from a curse. AP is promised by not one, but multiple psychics that—for a cool $1000 and the sacrifice of a baby lamb— it can be lifted. So, she makes money the only way she knows how, scootering her way deeper into the night, into the uncouth underbelly of Trashtown. Dark, irreverent, and sexy, AP stumbles upon new characters and absurd situations, each more unhinged than the last, as she winds her way toward the inevitable. Fucktoys is a campy romp that explores the intersection of intimacy, exploitation, and class in a pre-millenium alternate universe of dilapidated urban decay and pastel cotton candy skies.

    IN THE MOUTH (d. Cory Santilli)

    Merl has been living his life as a recluse, in complete isolation, unable to leave his house after discovering a giant version of himself protruding from his lawn, blocking any attempt at escape. He’s run out of money, but if he doesn’t pay his rent in the next five days then his landlord is going to evict him. With no other options left, he is forced to get a roommate to pay him the debt in advance. Larry, an older man traveling shockingly light with only the clothes on his back, heeds the call and comes to live with Merl. It’s an adjustment for sure, but maybe they can learn a thing or two from each other. Or maybe Larry’s just found the perfect place to hide…

    NOCLIP 2: RETURN TO LUNCHLAND (d. Gavin Charles)
    World Premiere

    In this sequel to the award-winning found-footage film NOCLIP, the two explorers return from the void in search of even more liminal spaces. In the process, they find backrooms that lead to multiple new surreal locations, plus some familiar ones…

    POOLS (d. Sam Hayes)

    Kennedy has one day to get her shit together or get kicked out of school for good. Instead of buckling down, she rallies a ragtag crew for a midnight pool-hopping adventure through the lavish estates of her college town. But under the surface, Kennedy is searching for answers to the questions tearing her up inside in the wake of her father’s death. As the secrets spill, this wild escape becomes a cathartic journey of self-discovery.

    PORTAL TO HELL (d. Woody Bess)

    Dunn is a debt collector. His life of routine is interrupted when a portal to hell appears in his local laundromat. A demon follows and explains in no uncertain terms he’s there to drag Dunn’s neighbor, Mr. Bobshank, to hell. Bobshank owes a debt. Helping people pay their debts is what Dunn does best. A deal is offered – three souls to save Bobshank. Dunn says no. But one of his debtors follows him to the laundromat and well… once you do one, what’s another two? Dunn makes good on his end of the bargain. But the portal stays. The demon explains. Who gets into heaven isn’t up to God or the Devil. It’s up to you. Bobshank hasn’t forgiven himself. Dunn can convince Bobshank to do just that. Or find a fourth soul. The question Dunn has to answer is if you throw away everyone that’s made mistakes, who’s left?

    SELF-HELP (d. Erik Bloomquist)
    World Premiere

    A young woman attempts to rescue her mother from a secret online community after she becomes entangled with its enigmatic leader.

    THE BELDHAM (d. Angela Gulner)

    Struggling single mom Harper moves in with her mother to renovate a fading suburban farmhouse. The two are joined by her mother’s new boyfriend and a mysterious live-in home aide, both who claim to be dedicated to Harper’s postpartum care. But things are not what they seem. A sinister presence lurks within the house… one that has designs on Harper’s child. As Harper investigates, she uncovers dark truths about the nature of her reality, and questions the intentions of those entrusted with her care. A multi-generational love story disguised as a horror, The Beldham explores the fine line between care and control, and the desperate lengths mothers will go to to protect the daughters they love.

    THE MOST AUSTRALIAN BAND EVER! (d. Jonathan J. Sequeira)

    The Secret Origin of the Hard-Ons. Three ethnic school kids from Western Sydney discover punk music and form a band. Together they fight racism and the music industry to become Australia’s biggest indie band larrikins. Before diversity was a buzzword, there was the Hard-Ons!

    THE SPIRIT OF HALLOWEENTOWN (d. Brett Whitcomb, Bradford Thomason)

    In 1998, the Disney Channel Original Movie “Halloweentown” was filmed in St. Helens, Oregon. Since then, the town has become a de facto Halloween destination with over 50,000 visitors each October. “The Spirit of Halloweentown” is an observational portrait of St. Helens 25 years later focusing on its residents as they transform the town and navigate their inescapable identity. Just as ghouls and ghosts inhabit the Halloweentown of the movie, many St. Helens residents believe their town to be truly haunted. As visitors pour into the city and specters of all kinds fill the autumn air, life for the locals in Halloweentown becomes much more than the celebration of a movie. It’s a quest for belonging and a reckoning with demons both personal and spiritual.

    UNDER THE BURNING SUN (d. Yun Xie)

    In a barren, desolate land where abortion is outlawed, Mowanza struggles with her unwanted pregnancy. When she hears of a distant land with a lenient abortion policy, Mowanza, armed with only a half-empty water bottle and a battered car, embarks on a journey across the desert toward the lush land of Iropus.

    QUEENS OF THE DEAD (d. Tina Romero)
    Closing Night Selection

    When a zombie apocalypse breaks out in Brooklyn on the night of a warehouse party, an eclectic group of drag queens, club kids, and frenemies must put aside their drama and use their unique skills to fight against the brain-thirsty, scrolling undead.

    CROSSWORD (d. Michael Vlamis)

    Following the death of their daughter, Tessa pours herself into her best selling children’s book series, “Lily Learns,” while her husband, James, attempts to find solace in the daily crossword but quickly unravels as the puzzles seem to take on a mind of their own.


    GOOD NIGHT (d. Matías Szulanski)

    U.S. Premiere

    A young Brazilian girl travels to Argentina to visit her aunt, but after a misunderstanding and the loss of her belongings, she must kill time until the next morning.


    HACKED: A DOUBLE ENTENDRE OF RAGE FUELED KARMA (d. Shane Brady)

    World Premiere

    Based on true events: When their $20K home deposit is stolen by Florida’s most elusive Hacker – The Chameleon – the Rumble family snaps and goes full “John Wick” …Except with way worse planning, more stupidity, and a 5 foot tall battle axe. It’s a revenge mission so insane, it might actually work.


    THE HARBOR MEN (d. Casey T. Malone)

    World Premiere

    During a waterfront viral outbreak, dock worker Steven Dorre witnesses a strange murder that puts him in possession of a case – the contents of which bring into question everything he thought he knew to be true.

    HOT SPRING SHARK ATTACK (d. Morihito Inoue)

    U.S. Premiere, Opening Night Selection

    In a small hot spring town in Japan, a ferocious ancient shark reawakens and begins terrorizing the local hot spring facilities. As the threat escalates, the townspeople band together to protect their beloved town from the menacing predator, leading to a fierce and thrilling battle.


    HOUSE OF ASHES (d. Izzy Lee)

    Grieving widow Mia must survive psychological and supernatural horrors while under house arrest.


    HUNG UP ON A DREAM: THE ZOMBIES DOCUMENTARY (d. Robert Schwartzman)

    British Invasion icons The Zombies reflect on paving 60 years and counting of their musical path from teenage friends to legends in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.


    I HATE MYSELF AND WANT TO DIE (d. J. Davis)

    I Hate Myself and Want to Die is a dark comedy about a depressed young guy whose attempts to kill himself keep getting interrupted by his family and friends. Unaware of his intentions, they pull him into increasingly bizarre adventures over the course of a single night, while he looks back on his life and decides whether or not to go through with his deadly plan.


    I REALLY LOVE MY HUSBAND (d. G.G. Hawkins)

    When a woman grows disillusioned with her golden-boy husband during their tropical honeymoon, she recruits an enigmatic expat to spice things up—for better or worse.

    KING BABY (d. Kit Redstone, Arran Shearing)

    A warped modern fairytale plays out in a crumbling “kingdom” populated only by a king and a servant. The arrival of a mannequin queen throws their carefully constructed world into isolation, madness, and murderous megalomania.


    THE MISADVENTURES OF VINCE & HICK (d. Trevor Stevens)

    World Premiere

    Recently released from prison, Hick Dunn wants nothing more than to make it to his daughter Katie’s 10th birthday party across the US desert. A chance encounter with a silver tongued con man named Vince Campbell opens an opportunity for Hick to get a ride. The catch? He has to revert back to a life of criminal misadventures.


    OBEX (d. Albert Birney)

    Conor Marsh lives a secluded life with his dog, Sandy, until one day he begins playing OBEX, a new, state-of-the-art computer game. When Sandy goes missing, the line between reality and game blurs and Conor must venture into the strange world of OBEX to bring her home.


    OPERATION WAKALIGA: FATE AND BLOOD (d. Ori Yakobovich, Maya Rudich, Nabwana IGG)

    U.S. Premiere

    A first of its kind action-comedy cooperation between Wakaliwood in Uganda and Israel. The Ugandan tiger mafia kidnaps the son of the prime minister of Israel. This shadow organization known for black magic and mastery of kung fu, are planning to sacrifice the son prime minister in order to perform a unique spell that requires royal Jewish blood. In order to rescue him, the State of Israel sends a pair of special commando fighters to Uganda, whose partnership was broken up by a bitter conflict in the past. If the commandos won’t be able to overcome their troublesome past the fate of the Jewish and the Ugandan people might be doomed forever.


    PAVEMENTS (d. Alex Ross Perry)

    An examination of the iconic 90s indie band, “Pavements” appears to be just another music documentary, until it doesn’t. A prismatic, narrative, scripted, documentary, musical, metatextual hybrid, the film intimately shows the band preparing for their sold-out 2022 reunion tour while simultaneously tracking the preparations for a musical based on their songs, a museum devoted to their history and a big-budget Hollywood biopic inspired by their saga as the most important band of a generation.


    THE PEE PEE POO POO MAN (d. Braden Sitter Sr.)

    A paranoid young man launches a bizarre crime spree against the citizens of Toronto in this psycho-spiritual thriller comedy starring Rishi Rodriguez, Spencer Rice (Kenny vs. Spenny) and Paul Bellini (Kids in the Hall).

    ABIGAIL BEFORE BEATRICE (d. Cassie Keet)
    An isolated woman is confronted by her past when a fellow former cult member reaches out with news that their leader has been released from prison early. What happens when your search for love and acceptance leads you to a toxic relationship? How do you move on when you can’t let go? 


    ALAN AT NIGHT (d. Jesse Swenson)
    World Premiere
    When fledgling podcaster and prank-channel proprietor Jay Conley finds himself in sudden need of a roommate, he hastily welcomes a shy, Alabamian herpetologist named Alan into his Bushwick apartment. Despite his social clumsiness and a snore that could move needles on the Richter Scale, Alan initially proves himself to be an excellent houseguest. But soon his harmless quirks give way to increasingly alarming nocturnal behaviors and Jay reacts as any decent, young content-creator would – by capturing the proceedings on camera. As Alan’s erratic conduct and mysterious symptoms escalate to a violent crescendo, our camcorder-wielding protagonist and his idler best bud must choose between their consciences, their safety and the allure of views, likes and subscribes. 

    BOB MORGAN’S JUST GOING TO TELL SOME STORIES (d. Tom Marksbury, Grayson Tyler Johnson)
    Bob Morgan’s Just Going to Tell Some Stories… about art and garbage, sex and drugs, aids grief, cultural subversion and being an outsider turned community icon. The story of an assemblage artist and queer Kentucky.


    DARK MY LIGHT (d. Neal Dhand)
    Detective Mitchell Morse’s investigation into a beachfront serial killer is complicated by a hothead new partner, a severed foot on the beach, his fracturing relationship with his wife, and his own slipping sanity.

    ITCH! (d. Bari Kang)
    Amid a mysterious deadly outbreak called the ITCH. A widower and his estranged young daughter take sanctuary in a department store, only to realize the real terror is inside with them.


    OLD WOUNDS (d. Steven Hugh Nelson)
    An aspiring filmmaker documents a road trip with his girlfriend to meet her family. As he learns more about her past, they discover he’s not the only one filming them.


    PATER NOSTER AND THE MISSION OF LIGHT (d. Christopher Bickel)
    Max, a young record store clerk stumbles upon a rare vinyl LP and is drawn into the world of a 1970s hippie commune. An invitation to the remnants of the cult and its unholy spawn leads to grave circumstances for Max and her friends.

    SOLVENT (d. Johannes Grenzfurthner)
    While searching for Nazi documents in an Austrian farmhouse, a team of experts uncovers a hidden secret buried in its bowels. American expatriate Gunner S. Holbrook becomes obsessed with solving the mystery, and as his sanity wanes, he must confront an insatiable evil. Can he find redemption before it drains the life out of him?


    THE ONLY ONES (d. Jordan Miller)
    Six friends set out to a secluded house for a relaxing weekend away, when they unwittingly start a snowballing effect of chaos, death and paranoia. As the body count climbs, the survivors don’t know who to trust, or who is next.


    THEY WERE WITCHES (d. Alejandro G. Alegre)
    Mia, an expert speaker in witchcraft, takes a trip to see a therapist. On the way she meets a group of young people who will begin to die one by one to bring an evil spirit back from death.


    UNIVERSE 25 (d. Richard Melkonian)
    Mott the angel is sent on a holy mission in London and Bucharest. In his search for a mysterious saint, he encounters a world that sends him off course and forces him to face his true identity.

    CFF 2025 SHORT FILM ANNOUNCEMENTS (FULL LINEUP)

    401 (d. Neal Tyler)
    ’77  (d. Christopher Perna)
    A DIVINE COMEDY: WHAT THE HELL (d. Valerie Lee Barnhart)
    A FOREST (d. Isabel Nola)
    A HAUNTING AT ALMA DRIVE (d. Dalton Allen)
    AGORAPHOBIA (d. Ashley Wong)
    ALL KINDS OF ANIMALS (d. Becky Sayers)
    ANIMAS FORKS (d. Samuel Blakesberg)
    ANY LAST WORDS (d. Isaac Rathé)
    ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME? (d. Zen Pace)
    ARSON (d. Erin Broussard)
    BAKING AND ENTERING (d. Lance Harbour, Cole Keisling, Andrew Lacy, Zach Legaux, Brooklynne Scivally)
    BANANAHEAD (d. Christopher Greenslate)
    BATHROOM SPIDER (d. Christine Weatherup)
    BEAST OF THE NORTHWOODS (d. Harrison Reeder)
    BEEF CREEK – Animated Pilot (d. Kurt Vinci, Seby X Martinez)
    BLOODY MARIAN (d. Sommar Ashleigh Boulware)
    BLUBBER (d. Chloë Levine)
    BRICK BOY (d. Scott Vasey)
    BUMP (d. Kyle Kasabian)
    C.U.N.T. (SEE YOU NEXT TUESDAY) (d. Gabriela Perez Figuereo)
    CAT & FISH (d. Nilram Ranjbar)
    CEASE TO EXIST (d. Taylor Nodrick)
    CHECK PLEASE (d. Shane Chung)
    CHERRY-COLORED FUNK (d. Chelsie Pennello)
    CHICKENBOY (d. Matthew Rush)
    CLOSED CIRCUIT (d. Karl Redgen)
    CANCER SZN (d. Zachary Green)
    DAMN HANDY (d. Peter Filardi)
    DAMNED (d. Lukas Anderson)
    DAUGHTERS OF EVIL (d. Adam Taylor, Natasha Malone)
    DEAD PET SHARK (d. Misha Gankin)
    DEADLY DUELS VII (d. Justine Beed)
    DESTROYER (d. Judd Myers)
    DID MY HEART LOVE TILL NOW (d. Veronica Tullo)
    DID YOU REMEMBER THE CAT? (d. Daniel Foster)
    DISFIGURA (d. Jake Bradbury, Toni Blando)
    DON’T BUY THE LIVERWURST (d. Nathaniel Hendricks)
    DON’T SCREW THIS UP (d. Nathan Evans)
    DON’T LOOK (d. John Wyatt)
    DREAM AMERICAN (d. Greg Marcks)
    ELDRITCH KARAOKE (d. Joe Loftus)
    ELEGANCIA (d. Maria Shevtsova)
    EMPTY JARS (d. Guillermo Ribbeck)
    ENDZGIVING (d. Tina Carbone)
    ESCAPE (d. Lorenzo Manetti)
    FACES (d. Blake Simon)
    FEED (d. Kara McLeland)
    FOREVER YOURS (d. Elliott Louis McKee)
    FRANKENBABES FROM BEYOND THE GRAVE! (d. Andrew Bowser)

    FRENCH LESSONS (d. Anna Maguire, Kyle Greenberg)
    HER HOUSE (d. Will Lee)
    HI I JUST MOVED HERE (d. Alessandro Pulisci)
    HIVE (d. Felipe Vargas)
    HOWL IF YOU LOVE ME (d. John R. Dilworth)
    HUMAN RESOURCE (d. Henry Chaisson)
    I DREAMT OF BEING AN ACTRESS (d. Isabel Nola)
    IS THAT A MIME? (d. Michael Spencer)
    IT DRAWS CLOSER (d. Joshua David Matthews)
    KRAKENS MAW (d. Miro Santeri Seppanen)
    LOLA (d. Grace Hanna)
    LOUD (d. Adam Azimov)
    MANNY WOLFE (d. Trevor Neuhoff)
    MASKS (d. Andre LeBlanc)
    MEEET (d. Laama Almandani)
    MIRROR MAN (d. Jakob Owens)
    MODEL CITIZEN (d. Rachael Dahl)
    MR. STATIC (d. Mike Williamson)
    OK/NOTOK (d. Pardeep Sahota)
    OPEN WIDE (d. Sam Fox)
    PARKING LOT SEAGULLS (d. Michael Curtis Johnson)
    PHROG (d. Brandon Vallee Ross)
    POCKETMAN (d. Ericka Clevenger)
    POP MONSTERS (d. Megan Brooks)
    PUMPKIN GUTS (d. Bryan M. Ferguson)
    RADIATION (d. Peter Collins Campbell)
    RANDY AS HIMSELF (d. Margaret Miller)
    RED IRON ROAD: IN THE HEAT (d. Sam Chou)
    REM (d. Blair Bathory)
    ROUGE (d. Nicholas Jackson)
    SECOND DATE WITH WET SARA (d. Creston Whittington, Evan Enderle)
    SEMPRE AVANTI (d. Matthew Barber, Nathaniel Barber)
    SEVERED (d. Megan Duffy)
    SEWING MACHINE (d. Tyler William Hagen)
    SICK DAY (d. Hughes Ransom)
    SIN EATER (d. Corey Simpson)
    SKEETER (d. Chris McInroy)
    SLOW (d. Rebecca Berrih)
    SLUSH (d. Ashley George)
    SOMETHING’S WRONG WITH KIT (d. Lida Everhart)
    STRINGS (d. Ava Pearson, Eleanor Smith, Nina Zandvliet)
    STRIYA (d. Paige Campbell)
    SUPPER (d. Joshua Ryan Dietz)
    SWEET DREAMING (d. Andrew Laudone)
    TEAGAN AND HIS BROS (d. Ronald Short)
    TERROIR (d. Casey Rogerson)
    TETHER (d. Meredith Berg)
    THE ANGEL (d. Barrett Burgin, Jessica Burgin)
    THE ANOMALIST (d. Matt Farren)
    THE BEGUILING (d. ​​Ishkwaazhe Shane McSauby)
    THE BOHANNONS – NIGHT CONSTRUCTION – Official Music Video (d. Matt Eslinger)
    THE CONFECTION (d. Christopher Jason Bell)
    THE CREATURE OF BLOOD LAKE (d. Dylan A. Young)
    THE FLACALTA EFFECT (d. Rochée Jeffrey)
    THE GIRLIES (d. Natalie Couture)
    THE HUMMING GROWS (d. Aughbar)
    THE KEY CLUB (d. Lee Boxleitner, Sam Boxleitner)
    THE KOLA TAPE (d. South Turk)
    THE LAST THING SHE SAW (d. Anthony Cousins, Rebecca Daugherty)
    THE LILY & THE SCORPION (d. Charlie Netto)
    THE PLEDGE (d. Jackson Stofka)
    THE PRINCESS OF COYOTE PALMS (d. Danielle McRae Spisso, Stephen Vanderpool)
    THE SELKIE (d. Sara Friedman)
    THE THINGS WE KEEP (d. Joanna Fernandez)
    THE TRAVELER (d. Matthew Scheffler)
    THE TRAVELER & THE TROLL (d. Adam Murray)
    THE VANITY (d. Megan Rosati)
    THERE IS NO ANTIMEMETICS DIVISION (d. Adria Marie Lang)
    TIL DEATH DO US PART (d. Bronwyn Blanks-Bludell, Alexander Protich)
    TIN SOLDIERS (d. Aris Federman)
    TO WRITE THE ENDING (d. Shaler Keenum)
    TWO BREATHS (d. Kateryna Kurganska)
    VHX (d. Alisa Stern, Scott Ampleford)
    VOTE FOR WYRM (d. Benjamin Percy)
    WAKE (d. Sean Carter)
    WE NEED TO TALK ABOUT BALLOONS (d. Jennifer Bonior)
    WHAT’S LEFT (d. Ryan Gentle, Austin Quarles)
    WRONG GUY (d. Brett Maline)
    YOU WAKE TO FIND YOURSELF ALONE IN THE WOODS (d. Brad McHargue)
    YOU’RE AN ANGEL (d. Zachary Eglinton)
    YOUR HUSBAND WAS A GOOD MAN (d. Jamie

  • Criterion Review: WITHNAIL AND I [4K-UHD]

    Criterion Review: WITHNAIL AND I [4K-UHD]

    Richard E. Grant and Paul McGann relish their turns as wretched wastrels in this British cult classic from Bruce Robinson

    Withnail and I is undeniably a cult film. Brimming with eccentricity and wit, a legendary piece of quotable fare (“I demand to have some booze!“), revered in the UK and required viewing upon starting college, but perhaps a little less pervasive stateside than some other British classics. Writer/director Bruce Robinson’s semi-autobiographical film is considered a comedy, albeit one perfused with tragic elements, encircling Richard E. Grant and Paul McGann as a pair of misanthropes each reckoning with their lives as an era, and a friendship, come to an end.

    Set in the twilight of the 1960s, a decade fading as fast as the protagonists’ illusions, the film follows two out-of-work actors: the flamboyantly unhinged Withnail (a breakout turn from Richard E. Grant as this selfish and theatrical mess) and the more tightly wound, unnamed narrator (scripted as Marwood, played with repressed anxiety by Paul McGann). Trapped in a decaying Camden flat where the booze has dried up, the heating is off, and the only comfort is the occasional visit from their drug dealer Danny (Ralph Brown), the two decide they need a break. They head north to the Cumbrian countryside to stay in a cottage owned by Withnail’s indulgent and predatory Uncle Monty (a colorful and unsettling Richard Griffiths). Ill-prepared for the grim weather and frosty reception from the locals, they find no solace in the countryside, only new frustrations (and plenty of the old ones). Urban filth is traded for rural grime, as the pair face up to the truths that they are stuck in a rut, and one of them might be about to get out.

    Robinson’s personally informed script is both offbeat and razor-sharp, laced with a tragicomic density of quotable lines, theatrical monologues, and bizarre situations. The comedy emerges from the characters, their expressions, their fears, their constant bickering. There’s a rhythm to their misery, a strange poetry to their dysfunction and banter. The film is also, quietly but insistently, about endings. It’s 1969, the end of a decade of human achievement and the free-love movement. Bohemian ideals are giving way to a more sobering time. For Withnail and Marwood, they’re nearly 30 with little to show for it. Reality, adulthood, and accountability, those joyless inevitabilities, are catching up. They remain lower class wastrels, downtrodden castoffs, a position reinforced by Monty’s expectations and debauched nature mirroring the exploitative and expectant nature of the upper-classes.

    Visually, the film is steeped in dampness and shadow. Robinson avoids glamour or nostalgia. Interiors are dim, dusty, and claustrophobic; the countryside, while verdant, presents as inhospitable. There’s beauty, but it’s never comforting. The atmosphere mirrors the characters’ decay and listlessness. It all sounds depressing, but it is countered by the comedy and a rich vein of pathos that forms as we see the end of this toxic bromance approaching.

    The Package

    Criterion’s 4K treatment (supervised by director of photography Peter Hannan) delivers organic and strong color palettes and an image with a superb level of depth and detail. It really shows up the squalor and grime of this pair’s existence including dark pubs, oppressive clutter of their flat, to every grotty corner they huddle in. Textures of clothing and natural rendering of skin in closeups also impress. A fitting treatment of such a dark and dank film.

    • One 4K UHD disc of the film presented in Dolby Vision HDR and one Blu-ray with the film and special features
    • Two audio commentaries, one from 2020 featuring director Bruce Robinson, and the other from 2001 featuring actors Ralph Brown and Paul McGann: The first was recorded during COVID lockdowns and is a very insightful and personal contribution. The second is a legacy commentary that tilts towards the more comedic, although both spend a good amount of time sharing anecdotes about the filming, as well as thoughts on the legacy of the film
    • New short program featuring Robinson and actor Richard E. Grant: A recent interview of the pair running around 16 minutes with each discussing their inspirations and approach to the film
    • Withnail and Us (1999), a documentary on the making of the film: Around 25 minutes in length, and features a host of interviews with key cast and crew members as well as a host of British comedic talent, reflecting on the films influence
    • British Film Institute Q&A from 2017 with Robinson and Grant:
    • Stills gallery featuring photographs by artist Ralph Steadman
    • Trailer
    • PLUS: An essay by critic David Cairns: In the liner notes booklet, which also contains still images and details on the 4K restoration
    • Cover illustration by Ralph Steadman

    The Bottom Line

    Withnail and I is a bitter toast to the end of an era. A tragicomedy that blends dark humor and sharp wit, with a pervasive pathos. Criterion’s 4K is celebratory fare and a perfect way to wallow in the misery of this misbegotten pair of wastrels all over again.


    Withnail and I is available on 4K-UHD via Criterion now


  • Indian Cinema Roundup: SUPERBOYS OF MALEGAON is on Prime

    Indian Cinema Roundup: SUPERBOYS OF MALEGAON is on Prime

    Hindi-language film about filmmaking is one of the year’s surprise cinematic treasures.

    A surprise delight for me this year was the Hindi-language film Superboys of Malegaon, a heartbreaking dramedy based on true events that were previously the subject of the similarly-named documentary film Supermen of Malegaon.

    Shortly after its brief theatrical run, the film is now more widely available on Amazon Prime. It’s expressive, warm, and rooted in a deep love for movies and filmmaking. It’s certainly a must-watch for anyone who has dreamed about picking up a camera and grabbing your friends to, as Lloyd Kaufman would put it, “make your own damn movie”. The narrative is incredibly moving and one of my favorite movies of 2025 as we approach the midpoint of the year.

    I try to avoid too much plot exposition in reviews but in this case I feel it’s necessary to set the stage as a tantalizing hook. The film chronicles a group of pals living in the town of Malegaon in Western India in the 90s who taste success, and are almost destroyed by it.

    Nasir Shaikh operates an independent movie theater with help from his friends, showcasing films with a focus on action and genre pictures. But because the boys are showing movies without the proper licensing, it’s essentially a pirate operation. And just when things are looking up, they’re forced to shut down.

    And that’s when the idea hits: the police can’t stop them from showing movies if it’s their movies.

    Overnight, a scrappy group of friends becomes a filmmaking team, intent on saving their humble theater. Nasir directs the effort. Farogh, a newspaper reporter, becomes their writer. Shy but lovable Shafique aspires to play a lead role but settles to help with the production. Other friends and family pitch in both behind and in front of the camera.

    Rallying the village to get involved with the production and risking a large part of his budget on hiring a single professional actress, Trupti, Nasir becomes the director of a locally produced shoestring film, a Sweded remake version of the popular Sholay.

    This first half of the film is a scrappy and inspiring look at what people can accomplish when they work together. In this sense, I’m reminded of Michel Gondry’s Be Kind, Rewind, which shares a nearly identical premise about the employees and supporters of a dying video store who start making their own movies to try to save it. But there’s an impending darkness at the edges in this version of the story.

    Because it’s a film about filmmaking, Superboys naturally introduces certain thoughts and criticisms about both the business and craft of cinema: conversations around originality versus parodies and remakes, and the cynical views of the business and the way it’s run by powerful executives rather than passionate artists. Even the inciting incident, in which the boys were unfairly raided for showing unauthorized screenings of foreign movies, is a statement about access. The boys screen these films to share their love for them, not to profiteer from them.

    The locally-produced Sholay parody becomes a regional hit, but from here things get dicey with a whole new set of challenges and the group becomes increasingly fractured on what to do next. Success exacts a heavy toll.

    Nasier, as the director and theater operator, enjoys both the credit and financial reward of the film’s success, while those he rallied to volunteer their help don’t reap any of the benefits. Having tasted success, his only concern is to try to recapture lightning in a bottle and increase his own celebrity profile. Upset by his selfishness, many of the friends disassociate themselves from his projects and from the group.

    Farogh, eager to prove himself as a capable writer, is ready to move on from the realm of parody and remake to showcase an original screenplay, and increasingly frustrated by Nasier’s broken promises.

    Gentle Shafique dreams of being a movie star but remains loyal in helping Nasier and contents himself to assist from a production role, and tries to be the glue in the group’s collapsing friendships. The bright spot in his world is Trupti, the beautiful starlet who, ironically, seems to be the only person who truly understands him.

    Instead of moving on to greater things, the group’s fabric is destroyed and they go their separate ways, never achieving any greatness apart like they could when working together. It’s only when an unexpected tragedy strikes that the friends put aside their differences to work together again toward a common goal that unites them in love, and to make the film that they were destined to make.

    I’m keeping these details spoiler free, but it’s an incredibly moving last act that reminds both the characters and the audience what’s truly important.

    Superboys of Malegaon is a movie for people who are in love with movies, but also itself a wonderful movie in its own right that succeeds at both reverence for cinema and also for being approached on its own quality. The story is raw and the performances are earnest, delivering up one of the year’s most emotionally charged screen treasures.


    A/V Out.

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  • FEAR STREET Returns with PROM QUEEN

    FEAR STREET Returns with PROM QUEEN

    Netflix’s R. L. Stine-inspired slasher series is back

    Netflix released their well-received Fear Street trilogy in 2021, a sprawling chronicle of terror across multiple generations and centuries, from 1994 to 1978 to 1666. The films garnered generally positive reactions and invited the possibility of more tales from the world of R. L. Stine’s Fear Street series of novels, the teen horror step-up from his better known kid-lit, Goosebumps.

    Prom Queen, the new entry in the franchise, based on the Fear Street novel The Prom Queen, takes place in the 80s – the era that many horror fans would consider the Golden Age of slasher moviess and their most iconic villains.

    The high-school themed flick takes inspiration and cues from horror movies like Prom Night and Carrie, centering on Lori (renamed from the novel’s Lizzie, probably as a nod to Halloween‘s Laurie Strode), a nice girl who’s not somewhat well-liked but decidedly not part of the in-crowd, for a couple of reasons. The first is the rumors that swirl around her family: her father was mysterious murdered many years ago, and many believe it was her mother who did the deed.

    The other is the company she keeps – her longtime best friend is Megan, the queer-coded school misanthrope who loves punk rock and horror movies.

    Lori becomes the dark horse candidate for Prom Queen as the fifth contender, alongside the clique of four popular girls who rule the school. But social maneuvering and catty power plays give way to other more pressing concerns on Prom Night, when the prom queen candidates and others start disappearing.(Spoiler: they’re getting murdered).

    Prom Queen feels pretty modern in style and tone while also definitely being a throwback. The 80s setting is definitely a tip of the hat to the classic slasher era, and the incredible, pulsating synthwave score provides a modern twist on a vintage-rooted sound.

    There’s some light humor peppered in but for the most part it plays pretty straight, if a little familiar. The killer does have a pretty striking design, reminiscent of the masked, rain-coated figure in Alice, Sweet Alice.

    While I definitely enjoyed Prom Queen, it doesn’t feel like particularly vital watching. To draw comparisons another recent teen slasher, Clown in a Cornfield, which is still playing in theaters, Clown handles very similar themes and characters with more success and a little less reliance on replaying the hit tropes. It’s definitely the better film of this pairing, while Prom Queen feels more like, well, a movie streaming on Netflix.

    But entertain Prom Queen does, with plenty of carnage, attitude, and a killer soundtrack.


    A/V Out

  • Criterion Review: Abbas Kiarostami’s THE WIND WILL CARRY US

    Criterion Review: Abbas Kiarostami’s THE WIND WILL CARRY US

    Over a long opening shot that follows a car as it winds its way around the countryside, we hear men having a conversation. What they say isn’t all that important, though they repeatedly mention looking for a specific tree. The tree is the landmark on the way to their destination. There’s a particular comfort that comes from following directions like that rather than the meticulous plotting of GPS. It implies a level of intimacy from the direction-givers, as well as a level of trust from the direction-takers: If you’ll get where you’re meant to be. It’s important that we don’t see the men while we listen to them talk. It’s more important for us, the viewers, to settle in and take in the beauty of the hills, the grass, the trees, the sky, and everything else the camera captures. It’ll be important for the men in the car as well, but that’s something they’ll have to learn over the course of the film.

    Abbas Kiarostami’s The Wind Will Carry Us has all the hallmarks of the late Iranian director’s work. A simple plot gives way to an emotionally complex and deep narrative about human connection. The film is full of lengthy shots that allow the characters to come to life and allow the performances to breathe. The world of the film is lived in, bringing viewers into a fully formed world and letting the nuance of everyday life take precedence.    

    The languid pace allows the film to spend time with multiple people and build out the village. Like the first meeting between Farzad, a pre-teen who shows Behzad around the village, and Behzad (Behzad Dorani). As they talk, Farzad leads Behzad up the steep and rocky hill to his village before telling him there are other, easier ways to get there. This scene works as a metaphor on a couple levels. The first is that it upends Behzad’s expectations for how his trip will go. The second way gets at one of Kiarostami’s recurring themes: life is circuitous.

    Behzad is a documentarian visiting the Siah Dareh with the intention of filming the communities rituals after someone passes away. There’s an elderly woman who is sick and nearing the end, and Behzad is laying in wait. While waiting he spends time with various people throughout the village in their day to day lives. Behzad is there under the guise of an engineer, hiding his true purpose. There’s a distance between Behzad and the people he meets that he can’t close. That’s really the central tension of the film. In the booklet accompanying the film’s Criterion release, the cast is listed as “Behzad Dorani and The Villagers of Siah Dareh.” 

    One thing that immediately stands out is how accommodating the villagers are. It starts with Farzad. He’s in the midst of testing at school and focused on that, but he repeatedly takes time to show Behzad around. Early in the film Behzad asks about getting fresh milk and is disappointed when he can’t get it. Yet, later in the film, when he’s found someone to milk a goat for him, Behzad is focused on reciting poetry to the teenage girl doing the milking. He offers to pay for the milk, after interrupting the work of the girl and her family, only for the family to return the money and tell Behzad he’s an honored guest. In one of the film’s standout scenes, Behzad is at a small cafe when he tries to take pictures of the older woman in charge and is immediately scolded by her. Behzad is a selfish man in a selfless community. But, he’s still worthy of grace and welcoming, both of which the villagers offer.

    As the film progresses, another of Kiarostami’s fascinations comes to the fore. The meta examination of life through an interloper trying to document something real and genuine reveals the artifice of Behzad’s work. By capturing life and death and their rituals on film, Behzad is introducing a level of falseness. Everyone in Siah Dareh goes about their daily business, but Behzad’s presence breaks up the rhythm of daily life. So whatever he’s hoping to document is not going to be “real” in the way it would be without him or his camera. It’s only fitting that when the death he’s been waiting for finally happens, Behzad isn’t ready for it.

    Late in the film there is a wonderful conversation between Behzad and a local doctor. The doctor speaks dubiously about the alleged beauty of the afterlife and what lies ahead for us in death, asking rhetorically, “but who has come back to tell us?” It’s maybe the most eloquent and succinct expression for savoring each moment and every day we’re lucky to get. This comes after he’s spoken on the pleasures life has to offer, between people and nature. As he says this, he and Behzad are riding on a scooter, in a gorgeous shot with wheat and long grass blowing in the wind. It’s a tremendous note to end the film on, with Kiarostami rewarding the trust given to him by viewers.

    The Wind Will Carry Us enters the Criterion Collection with a lovingly curated blu-ray edition. The film’s 4K restoration gives the images new life, looking like it could’ve been filmed last week rather than a quarter century ago. The extras include Yuji Mohara’s feature-length making of doc A Week with Kiarostami, a lengthy 2002 interview with Kiarostami, and a video essay by Kiarostami’s translator and creative collaborator Massoumeh Lahiji. The booklet essay is by novelist and poet Kaveh Akbar. 

  • SHALL WE DANCE(1996) is a Pure Cinematic Delight

    SHALL WE DANCE(1996) is a Pure Cinematic Delight

    As a fan of Japanese cinema, when I heard a new 4K restoration of the fully uncut Japanese version of Shall We Dance (1996) was hitting theaters today I was a bit curious. While I was well aware of the 2004 romantic comedy starring Richard Gere and Stanley Tucci, what most don’t know is that film was a Miramax remake of a Japanese film starring Kôji Yakusho, who most will probably know from his excellent turn as Hirayama the whimsical washroom attendant in Perfect Days. Like most foreign films released by Miramax, the original version was purchased by Weinsteins, who promptly cut 15 minutes and released with not a lot of fanfare as not to detract from the eventual remake that was to be released. 

    For those not familiar, Shall We Dance follows salaryman Shohei Sugiyama (Kôji Yakusho), who’s struggling with a bit of mid-life crisis. He’s got a beautiful wife, a loving daughter and he just purchased his dream home, but he’s still depressed. While waiting for the train home one night he spots a young woman out of the corner of his eye, Mai Kishikawa (Tamiyo Kusakari). She is standing at the window of a ballroom dancing studio and he sees in her expression the same melancholy that he is currently struggling with. After noticing her day after day he slowly works up the courage to take classes at the studio to meet the young woman, and instead of a simple affair, he finds a new reason for existing thanks to the art of ballroom dancing. 

    The new restoration begins with the following statement to set the cultural stage:

    In Japan Ballroom Dance is regarded with much suspicion in a country where married couples don’t go out arm in arm, much less say “I love you” out loud, intuitive understanding is everything. The idea that a husband and wife should embrace and dance in front of others is beyond embarrassing. However, to go out dancing with someone else would be misunderstood and prove more shameful. 

    Nonetheless, even for Japanese people, there is a secret wonder about the joys that dance may bring. 

    While both the original and remake have narratives that are fueled by the fragility of masculinity, in its story of a man stuck in the doldrums of his day to day who discovers joy in the art of dance. There’s a cultural component to the Japanese version that makes its narrative even more audacious. In a culture where conformity is the status quo, and emotional expression is seen as a sign of weakness, Shohei’s journey is fraught on all sides by fear, embarrassment and shame. While he begins his journey because of that young woman, it’s the awakening that happens in the process that causes him the most internal turmoil; it’s at odds with everything that’s helped him attain the Japanese status quo. 

    While masquerading as a quirky romantic comedy, the journey of self discovery at the heart of Shall We Dance is timeless as it is transcendent. That’s not only thanks to a script that really digs into these characters and their lives, but how they are brought to life with some truly superb performances. There’s a quiet vulnerability to Shohei Sugiyama that you don’t see often in films with male protagonists. Sure he’s trying to uphold the appearance of what’s expected of him as a successful Japanese salaryman, but there are moments when you can see right through the surface into his internal struggle of fighting what is expected of him, but what his heart yearns to do and that joy it unlocks. He’s surrounded by a cast who rise to the occasion around him crafting a memorable cadre of characters who tug at your heartstrings when you least suspect it.

    Coming into Shall We Dance, in this new 4K restoration, which also adds back in almost 15 minutes deleted from its initial US release was the best way I could imagine experiencing this cinematic delight. While it lures you in with its romantic comedy trappings, it’s the personal explorations at the heart of the film, experienced by not just by its male lead, but his romantic interest Tamiyo Kusakari as well that doesn’t end in a union, but still manages to offer up something more emotional and satisfying than you’d expect on the outset and its Rom-Com label. If you couldn’t tell I simply adored the film and I think this new uncut version deserves to be seen complete and theatrically, where it can inspire hope for all who are also looking for joy in their own dreary existences.