One of my favorite films of last year, the surreal and brutal queer time traveling fantasy She is Conann is currently screening in New York via a freshly struck 35mm print. Along with those theatrical engagements, some hosted by the director himself, there is also a short program of 4 shorts also by Conann’s director Bertrand Mandico that is most definitely worth your time. The short block very aptly titled The Show Has Already Started is a 90 minute slice of surrealist insanity compiled of two shorts that complete the Barbaric Cycle of Conann, another short, and a fourth that acts as the glue that binds them for this viewing.
The wrap-around titled The Show Has Already Started is this meta commentary on the filmmaking process via a faux TV special/children’s show that features the appearance of Bertrand Mandico via a giant puppet. He along with the other hosts puts forth some commentary on his work while you get a pre show that feels like it could facilitate the perfect double billing if played before or after Conann. The second film Rainer a Vicious Dog in Skull Valley is a somewhat autobiographical prequel to Conann that features the dog headed hound of hell Rainer, who happens upon a playwright looking to adapt a stage production of Conann, with only women during the pandemic.
The film 30+ minute short is a rather intriguing metaphor for the Faustian bargain an artist is forced to make, as the playwright strikes a deal with Rainer to be able to produce his play. This is of course contingent that Rainer is given a role along with his muse and it goes completely off the rails as expected, but it’s an damning look at the creative process and the contentious relationship between art and commerce. It features many of the same players from Conann and was shot in a vacant theater during the pandemic and shares the film’s practical look and feel. Not seeing Rainer shouldn’t affect the enjoyment of Conann, but it definitely enriches the experience and allows you some more time with these great characters.
The next short, We Barbarians returns us to the world of Conann yet again and appears to take place during the filming of the film in another meta foray. So while the first film was this meta take on the initial germ of the idea, this is the next step during filming, and looks at another downfall of the creative process as we spend time with each of the actors involved with the film adaptation of Conann. Each interview discusses how they arrived to play their part, and how they each had their own creative vision once upon a time and had since surrendered that to be an actor to support this singular vision, that is not their own. They each made their own pacts to get where they are and here we finally get to see behind the mask of Rainer.
This film feels more like a companion piece to Conan, rather than its own story, like Rainer did. We get a moment with each actor that’s proceed by a title card with their name and character who speak about not only why they are in the film, but what they hope to accomplish. As the threads weave into one another the standouts for me were a bratty Claire Duburcq and Elina Löwensohn’s Rainer who I really started to warm up to hear. Surrounded by all this beauty Rainer feels like the kid who only gets to hang with with the cool kids because he’s got powers. Which make him probably the most accessible character in the film oddly enough as he/she stalks the set with a camera and sweater.
The final film, The Last Cartoon – Nonsense, Optimistic, Pessimistic is an extremely avant garde piece, that feels equal parts dream, proof of concept sketch and manifesto. Models and actors vamp across the screen and pose against a giant rear projections, while a french, german and english voice over delves into Bertrand Mandico’s thoughts on cinema. Composed of meticulously orchestrated shots and curated sets, the film feels like a peek into the interior the the directors mind. It’s a very abstract piece and one that really begs a bit more attention to fully grasp what it’s looking to achieve.
As far as short programs go, this felt more like an anthology film to be honest and the perfect companion to She is Conann. Not only do we get to see more of this glitter and gore covered landscape and the rogues gallery that inhabit it, but we get a peek behind the curtain at one of the most fascinating auteurs working today. If you haven’t seen the shorts will it hamper your enjoyment of She is Conann at all? Probably not, but if you enjoyed any of the directors previous films they’re definitely a treat and if you really enjoy Conann, they really help to expand that world in a way I wish more directors would do.
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 [email protected].
The Pick: April Fool’s Day (Lesser known holiday slashers theme)
Cinapse staff Justin Harlan wanted to go to bat for lesser known holiday-themed slasher film Valentine this fine February, so we carved out a whole month to celebrate and discover some of the best lesser-known holiday themed slashers! Everyone’s heard of Halloween, last year Thanksgiving played wide across the nation. What about some of those titles that cashed in on the theme but never broke as wide? We’re excited to discover some of these titles together thanks to the Two Cents movie club format.
Before watching April Fools’ Day, I had heard from many who said it was a solid movie, but for whatever reason had been reluctant to watch it myself. Going in cold, it was film I knew almost nothing about, except that it was a horror movie. Now that I have seen it for myself, I would definitely say it was a pleasant surprise.
The film centers around a group of college friends all gathering to meet at the lake house of their mutual friend Muffy played with disarming charm by Deborah Foreman. Muffy is set to inherit the property as part of the first installment of her inheritance. She is already on the island preparing for the arrival of her friends. We meet them as they wait for the ferry to usher them across the lake from the mainland. The first friends we meet are Nikki, Kit, Rob, Chas and Arch. Nikki is being filmed introducing herself by Chas, before Rob and Arch get their turn introducing themselves. The group is joined first by Nan, followed closed by Harv and Skip who are the last to arrive.
The film relies pretty heavily on the secluded atmosphere afforded by the fact that they are set to be alone on the island, with no real help should anything go awry until the ferry begins its weekly run the following Monday. The mansion is enormous with plenty of room for everyone to be able to luxuriate in their surroundings.
Of course as the title would suggest plenty of practical jokes among the characters ensue. While on the ferry to the island Skip and Arch getting into a fight that involves Arch stabbing Skip when he grows frustrated with the game they are playing, and keels over the back of the ferry. Rob and one of the deck hands Buck dive into the water to try and save Skip but he is nowhere to be found. He rises from the murky depths waving the knife and a fake blood pack he used to fool his friends as the ferry nears the shore. It is the first of many elaborate pranks that continue until the murders of the guests begin.
All in all, this first time watch was a pleasant experience. I like when I know little about a film going in and the older I get the more I appreciate going into things mostly blind. A winning cast with an interesting conceit is always a good thing as far as I am concerned.
I was born in 1980, so the slasher genre was born around the same time I was, but I didn’t enter into fandom until the Scream era renaissance. I caught up on a lot of the earlier greats in the genre once I was old enough, but 1986’s April Fool’s Day is one of those VHS cover art titles that always tempted me at the video store growing up, but which I never did get around to seeing. So I programmed this title as a “new to me” pick for the “lesser known holiday themed slasher movies” theme for this month’s Two Cents column. And if I’m being honest, I had a really great time with this one and I’m surprised it isn’t more beloved among slasher film enthusiasts. You’ve got Amy Steel in the main cast (From Friday the 13th Part 2), you’ve got Tom Wilson (aka Biff from Back To The Future), and this somewhat ahead of its time high concept where the whole movie is this kind of proto-The Game where you’re guessing whether or not all of these murders are “real” within the context of the film or if they’re all part of the April Fool’s Day joke. Between the ridiculously horny script, the tongue in cheek comedic tone, the classic cast of ridiculous characters, the copious red herrings, and even the lake house setting, this all clicked for me in pretty glorious fashion and I’m now going to be singing the praises of April Fool’s Day among the lesser known holiday themed slashers out there.
My experience with slashers has been limited to those who’ve had long, extensive franchises–the Michaels, Freddys, and Jasons of cinema. It wasn’t really until Black Christmas a few years ago that my interest was piqued in exploring more of these standalone frightfests, which is why I was stoked that we were dedicating February to these holiday-themed entries in the 80s slasher canon. Much like how Black Christmas built up its own vibe of isolated, pulse-pounding dread, I really got into how April Fool’s Day leaned deep into the pace of a wayward John Hughes or National Lampoon entry (plus Biff Tannen!) that somehow stumbled its way into being a slasher flick. The characters are loud and obnoxious, but all distinct from one another–all with their own raunchy and lighthearted goings-on before they’re forced to run for their lives in a Ten Little Indians-style mystery.
Each kill sequence is quite fun–while it’s easy to predict the types of kills in something more franchise-based, there was a kind of perverse freedom in solely being rooted in the idea of “April Fool’s Day” as a jumping-off point. There’s an unpredictability to just how someone in the cast will meet their demise, whether it’s a boat crashing into a dock, being strung up by a noose, or one’s severed head turning up at the bottom of a well. Much like with Black Christmas, it was also surprising how restrained the gore was for something like this–a fact I later learned led to its ability to be shown repeatedly on cable long after the film’s theatrical run, leading to its widespread following among horror fans.
The ending is also a delight, presaging the rug-pulls of things like Cabin in the Woods and Scream while wholly honoring the goofball tone of the previous 80 minutes. Going into this I was wholly expecting a gory slasher that used its holiday as convenient window dressing–I’m more than thrilled I got the slasher equivalent of fellow 80s classic Clue.
This was a first time watch for me and for the first half, April Fools Day was a hoot and a half. It was funny and clever, taking every chance to pull the rug out from under the audience and also toy with genre tropes. Maybe my favorite aspect of the script was the way it deployed sexuality. The characters come of as sex-obsessed as we’ve all come to expect from 80s slashers, but the movie pointedly denies the audience the romps and nudity that surely many expected to see. And the only sex scene in the movie has the characters positioned in a way that almost defies regular flexibility. I laughed out loud. There’s a whoopee cushion and multiple people falling in rigged chairs to pair with bloody sight gags. What’s not to love here?
The only time the movie started to lose me is when it nears the climax and plays the horror angle a little too straight-faced. I get that the film probably put on its serious hat for a little bit in order to sell the film’s big punchline, but I just wish there could’ve been a different approach to get there. Alas, April Fools Day does end on a solid note. I’d definitely sign up for a weekend getaway at Muffy’s murder-mystery resort. The film’s conclusion reminded me of the immaculate “Conspiracy Theories and Interior Design” episode of Community, which features enough fake-outs and reversals to make the April Fools Day team proud.
What I’m trying to say is April Fools Day was much more entertaining than I anticipated and I’m glad I watched it, but also disappointed in myself for making it nearly 40 years into life without having seen it. But that’s the great gift of film: no matter how many movies you’ve seen, there’s always something right up your alley sitting out there in the ether just waiting to cross paths with you.
Conceptually stronger than the vast majority of 80s slashers… but the execution does so little for me. I see lots of folks praising this one – including folks here – but it just has never clicked for me. That said, so many rote 80s slashers and horror films film absurdly unoriginal, whereas I find the conceit here to be quite interesting.
Others here have far more interesting this to say and I’m not one to waste a ton of breath trashing something unless I have extremely strong opinions. In the case of this film, I simply don’t have any strong opinions. It’s not awful, but it’s not for me.
Climate change and the lingering effects of colonization spark violence in a region of Kenya in this documentary
A still from The Battle for Laikipia by Daphne Matziaraki and Peter Murimi, an official selection of the World Documentary Competition at the 2024 Sundance Film Festival. Courtesy of Sundance Institute.
The question at the crux of The Battle for Laikipia, the new documentary from directors Daphne Matziaraki and Pete Murumi, is who land in a much desired area of Kenya really belongs to. Wealthy white owners of a conservancy and cattle ranch in the Kenyan region of Laikipia are contrasted with members of the Indigenous, pastoralist Samburu community. In non-drought years, the migratory cattle herds are allowed onto private land to share the grass. But the area has been in drought for a year, and the settlers are hiring security on their land to keep the Indigenous groups out.
The folks of European descent own land through colonization and generational wealth. And now ancient migration routes generations of Samburu have used are closed to them. The Kenyan government seems to side with the wealthy ranchers.
A still from The Battle for Laikipia by Daphne Matziaraki and Peter Murimi, an official selection of the World Documentary Competition at the 2024 Sundance Film Festival. Courtesy of Sundance Institute.
Through an engaging storytelling structure which includes voices of the Samburu as well as the white settlers, The Battle for Laikipia holds the viewer’s attention. The landscape cinematography is gorgeous; the action scenes are equally well-shot, especially once the fighting between haves and have nots becomes more frequent. It’s disturbing to note the inequality of the situations, especially when it’s two years into a drought and a conservancy still has an infinity pool full of water for tourists. There seems little outside support for the Samburu and their disappearing way of life, where cattle are so vital to their culture.
Along with the violence between the humans, maimed and dead animals are shown as an example of the damage being done. I wasn’t mentally prepared for the instructions from white settlers to their security teams or the police to kill dogs and cows. The unacknowledged privilege on display is chilling, as more value is placed on land and property than on the livelihood of their neighbors.
The Battle for Laikipia, while not asking the audience to pick a side, does want the audience to consider the issues affecting this region. Is there a cooperative way forward? How might even higher temperatures and further drought impact these diverse groups of Kenyans in future? The film leaves the viewer unsettled, with more questions than answers.
In week 3, Justin once again posts on a Friday after promising the roundtable would go up by Thursday, Issa López refuses to stoop to Nic Pizzolatto’s level, and we spend some more time with Annie
Before we dive into this week’s episode, let me first remind everyone… there will be spoilers. So let this serve as a SPOILER WARNING and if you’re caught up with the show, we hope you’ll stay, share your theories, and let us know what you think about True Detective: Night Country. We’ll be posting every week with our latest thoughts on what happened and what we think is going to happen. If you’d like to join in next week’s post, you can submit your thoughts to me at [email protected] by 11:59 PM EST Tuesday.
As the Internet dude bros continue to feel emasculated by the strong women at the front of this season’s cast and can’t stop complaining, this week saw series creator Nic Pizzolato join the Reddit crowd by absolving himself of “blame” when it comes to the season 1 connections. Despite this, Issa López refused to snap back when approached for comment – which is no surprise, since she’s been a queen from the moment she hit the scene with Tigers Are Not Afraid.
As far as the actual show goes, it continues to unravel with clues and enthrall in the process. We see more of the Danvers/Navarro relationship and their history, with a cover up incident not unlike what happens in the first season. In their past, we know that Danvers and Navarro reported a suicide that didn’t really happen. As Danvers shares the story, we hear the story she is telling alongside the visuals of what actually happened – though, at this time, we can’t be sure which one of them pulled the trigger and which one did the covering up. On top of this story, we also got to spend some time learning about Annie and get some more clues on what happened to her.
There’s a ton left to unfold and only 3 more episodes to go. The back half of this season is sure to bring a ton of answers, but probably not before raising some more questions.
For this week’s discussion, Sarah and Brooke were unable to join us, but BradandBrendan share some extremely interesting thoughts on what we’ve seen and where it’s all going…
The feminine energy continues to abound. This time right from the jump on the episode. Navarro going to arrest a living version of the ghost that haunts her Annie, who was working as a midwife. Navarro in flashback watched Annie deliver a baby, before arresting her for destruction of mine property. The sense of camaraderie is palpable throughout the birth of the baby who nearly dies before it had a chance to live. The love and compassion on the faces of the other women, for the mother as she questions why her baby isn’t crying, before Annie and another aide bring the baby back from the brink to the relief and joy of everyone around.
As it has in the earlier episodes the cold remains a constant companion, as the search for Raymond Clark begins. You can see it on the actors faces the snow swirling around them, even dressed for the elements everyone seems chilled to the bone.
The tied back to season one also become evident yet again. Danvers is telling the younger prior how things came to be so raw between her and Navarro. Describing the case that caused the rift as a murder suicide, which we the audience see was a lie. William Wheeler playing the Reginald Ledoux character in this scenario. We don’t see exactly what happened, but conclusions can be drawn.
It’s nice to see Navarro and Danvers working the case together. The pair along with possibly the younger Prior being the only officers worth their salt around. I like Navarro’s playful relationship with Prior as well calling him freshman. It’s a nice contrast with the relationship Danvers has with Prior, who despite Hank’s insinuation that the relationship is improper their relationship while occasionally antagonistic is purely professional. Season four continues to keep me hooked with the unfolding parallel mysteries of what happened with Annie, as well as what went down with the research crew.
I am in for the long haul on this season, and the only disappointing thing is that it’s only 6 episodes not the usual 8, which I assume is the fault of the guy running things at the former HBO.
The corpsicle investigation continued aplomb this week, but for the me the biggest revelation was the glimpse we get of Navarro and Danvers working together, a partnership that’s only been teased thus far. Both women are so combative in their interactions with every single other person, it seems hard to believe they could have ever had a honeymoon period of steady cooperation, but it equally makes sense that two hard-headed, tough-as-nails ladies like these two could work well ONLY with someone just as prickly.
We now know the partnership came to an end over an incident in which they came across a man having recently killed his girlfriend after a prolonged history of abuse. In telling the story, Danvers asserts that both man and woman were dead when she and Navarro arrived, but the brief flashback makes it clear that the guilty party was very much alive.
So who killed the jackass? The immediate thought goes to the tempestuous Navarro, but my hunch is that we will learn that Danvers pulled the trigger, but only because of some impulsive action that Navarro took. That’s why Danvers is so adamant about keeping Navarro at arm’s length, and it’s why Navarro is deferential towards Danvers in a way she isn’t with any other living soul.
Can’t wait to see how the show continues to unpack this and the rest of its growing list of mysteries.
From the great “Mrs. Robinson” joke to the horrific screams, this episode may have been the best yet. I have theories… and comments… and more Internet trolls to yell at, so come back next week to hear all of that. Or you can come back to read people with better thoughts and ideas than mine. Either way, we’ll see you back here next week!
Writer-director Molly Manning Walker’s How to Have Sex is a slow burn tale about a teenage rite of passage celebration that morphs into a much more precarious rite of passage for 16-year-old Tara (Mia McKenna Bruce). It deals with sex, friendship, consent, and a slew of other coming-of-age themes. The marvel of Walker’s film is that it takes a situation and complications that are far too common and makes it feel unique.
The movie starts as Tara and her friends Skye (Lara Peake) and Em (Enva Lewis), head to a Greek resort to cut loose after finishing school exams. On the docket is plenty of drinking, partying, and, hopefully, hooking up. The premise is about as simplistic as possible, yet the film is anything but. Walker fills the film with a level of nuance that belies her status as a first-time feature director. Her’s feels like a steady hand guiding Tara, and viewers, through emotionally knotty territory.
Right from the start, Walker emphasizes the unglamorous side of the girls’ plan. Nights spent dancing and being carefree finish with vomiting and sleeping on floors. After the girls make friends with the guys in the room next door, jealousy seeps into exchanges between Tara and Skye. Tara has her eye on Badger (Shaun Thomas), a scruffy dude with bleach-blonde hair straight out of the early 2000s. Badger seems like an okay guy, but he volunteers for one too many games at a pool party and kills whatever was brewing between he and Tara. That sets Tara off for her own adventure. Except she runs into Badger’s decidedly less charming and more persistent friend Paddy (Samuel Bottomley).
Tara and Paddy end up on a beach and, well, the title of the movie clues viewers into what looms ahead. This is where the film’s themes of consent and communication come to the fore. As Tara and Paddy talk on the beach, her body language makes it clear that she isn’t into what’s happening but lacking the experience to properly navigate a situation like this, she becomes a passenger as Paddy forces the issue.
From that point on the film fills with dread as Tara processes what happened. She’s noticeably reserved around her friends, not that any of them notice. They’re too busy making jokes about her and Paddy and being caught up in their own fun to notice that Tara is not in a good place. Mia McKenna-Bruce’s performance soars in the back half of the film. She has a stare that’s simultaneously distant and precise. In shots where she’s by herself, you can practically read the thoughts running through Tara’s mind. In scenes with other people, the desperation she has for her friends to see that she’s in distress is intense.
In less skilled hands, How to Have Sex might be a maudlin, moralizing mess. Walker’s script is never didactic, and her direction is piercing without handholding. This is a film where the characters lack a lot of emotional and life experience, resulting in many lingering shots of silence and confused looks. Seeing them unable to articulate their complex feelings is absolutely the right approach. This is the kind of story that serves as a reminder that we all have so much to learn about ourselves and others, and one of life’s harshest lessons is that sometimes takes difficult situations to provoke these revelations.
Mubi releases How to Have Sex in theaters Friday February 2nd, 2024
“You and I, we’re not so different, Agent Argylle.”
Those who saw 2021’s Reminiscence will recall the various problems with its script, pacing, and overall execution. Yet it was tempting for many critics to give that movie a pass because it was the kind of big-budgeted piece so rarely found anymore. Even I was willing to look past that film’s flaws because of the joy I felt at its mere existence. More than two years later comes the unthinkable: a blockbuster not driven by comics or the Fast “family” named Argylle, a fun actioner puzzle of a movie that’s genuinely worthy of praise and excitement. Although marketing for the movie promises recognizable faces and action galore, the movie may be an immediate turn-off for audiences who can’t be bothered to invest in a property they’re not already familiar with. But for a special faction of the movie-going public longing for a blockbuster with tongue-in-cheek hilarity and solid action that doesn’t talk down to its audience, Argylle will be pure catnip.
Directed by Matthew Vaughn, Argylle tells the story of bestselling spy novelist Elly Conway (Bryce-Dallas Howard), who lives a quiet life, despite being the world’s foremost literary authority on espionage. Unsure of how to finish the latest installment of the book series named after her main character Argylle (Henry Cavill), Elly boards a train for a visit to her childhood home. Onboard, she encounters a real spy named Aidan (Sam Rockwell), who informs Elly that her books foretell the illegal actions of a secret organization out to get her. With nowhere to turn, Elly finds herself joining Aidan on an adventure right out of one of her books.
When I said there were elements of Argylle that might be hard for audiences to accept (or make them turn away altogether) this wasn’t an exaggeration. In an age when virtually every blockbuster comes with ready-made lore that the audience has spent years absorbing, Argylle forces those watching to rely on their genre savviness to help carry them through. The twists are plentiful in Argylle, with each one raising the stakes so high, that audiences might easily find themselves exhausted. The same goes for the plot itself, which borders on dense with all of its double crossings, mistaken identities, and motivations. Admittedly, Argylle‘s plot calls for an active audience, the kind that likes to lean forward in their seats as they try to connect the dots, rather than a passive one. Meanwhile, the movie’s brand of comedy asks its audience to laugh at a collection of jokes that are a mix of postmodern, slapstick, and dark comedy. Gags such as a cat being dropped from a rooftop and a prolonged train ride where Aidan must defeat a collection of unorthodox assassins call on a kind of British sense of humor that will not be for all tastes, but will always garner laughs from those who get the jokes.
What might end up turning people away from the movie is actually what makes Argylle such an exuberant adventure ride. Every scene of this movie feels like the product of a filmmaker no longer restrained by the history of a collection of comic books or dreaded audience expectations. Taking the place of those elements is the kind of blank canvas most directors like Vaughn can only hope for, one that he uses every inch of to paint a colorful creation that, while not reaching the level of masterpiece, can definitely be called a true piece of pop art. There’s a reverence that flows throughout all of Argylle that’s so clearly felt, allowing Vaughn carte blanche to turn the spy comedy on its head. In particular, the aforementioned train ride and a dance sequence that takes place amid tear gas and gunfire are both filled with such subversive glee, that they alone are enough to push Argylle into the realm of a new spy comedy favorite. The excitement from Vaughn and screenwriter Jason Fuchs can be found in these and virtually every other set piece in the movie. It’s an excitement that extends to the multitude of twists, the layered plot, and especially in a female protagonist that is one of the best to ever exist in a Matthew Vaughn film.
It’s not too early to find one of 2024’s most eclectic ensembles in the cast of Argylle. Besides Howard, Rockwell, and Cavill, there’s Catherine O’Hara, Ariana DeBose, Bryan Cranston, Sofia Boutella, Dua Lipa, John Cena, and Samuel L. Jackson all showing up to play. But it’s Howard and Rockwell who carry the film in terms of chemistry (romantic and otherwise), timing, and in the affinity they have for their characters. Vaughn knows how to play to their respective strengths (his nonchalance, her glowing nature) and they in turn plant themselves firmly on his wavelength for what ends up being two of the most enjoyable performances of either actor’s career.
The most refreshing element of Argylle is how it serves as a reminder that Vaughn is more than a director who brings comic book series to life. While the filmmaker was always able to still find a way to let his own style come out in carefully measured bursts, there’s no doubt that Vaughn’s distinct sensibilities have always been at battle with whatever comic book fare he was adapting to the screen. Argylle is less of a return to form for Vaughn so much as it’s a return to promise. It’s the same promise found in his striking noir-charged debut, 2004’s Layer Cake, and in the sweeping adventure of his Neil Gaiman re-imagining, Stardust. While there’s been much to like about some of the time he’s spent in the world of comic book movies, Argylle shows the kind of Vaughn we got excited about many years ago; a filmmaker with an eye for cinema that’s as kaleidoscopic and imaginative as can be.
Matthew Vaughn’s new spy satire has promising romantic premise. Shame it drops the ball on the action.
(from left) Elly Conway (Bryce Dallas Howard) and Aidan (Sam Rockwell) in Argylle, directed by Matthew Vaughn.
Having a trademark franchise can be a mixed blessing for a director. On the one hand, directors are given the chance to establish trademarks that create a sense of who they are as auteurs. But it can also pigeon-hole you into doing your one thing, making it more difficult when you want to step aside that trademark. Some directors create a brand and genre unto themselves, offering a specific promise with their name alone. The Tarrantinos or Verhoevens of the world provide distinctive visions that promise something any time they helm a new project.
Matthew Vaughn has not precisely established himself as a knowable brand to quite the same degree. But he certainly does have a franchise that is a distinctive piece unto itself. With Kingsmen, an adaptation with regular collaborator Mark Millar, Vaughn established a style of lad’s mag Bondian spy nonsense that succeeds at stylish action, tongue-in-cheek comedy and a swagger that has set itself a distinctive space. His newest outing, Argylle, promises to be more of the same: a spy parody with a killer premise that seems to play to Vaughn’s strengths. But the biggest surprise in the film is not any particular plot twist so much as its genre of choice.
Because Argylle isn’t a “boys will be boys” R-rated spy spectacle; it is an adventuring romantic comedy, in the ilk of Romancing the Stone. This genre exploration, as well as playing at PG-13 volume rather than at his typical R, presents Vaughn a challenge to stretch himself outside his usual confines as a director. But in the process of translation, Vaughn’s fans might be surprised to see his typical strengths don’t survive the shift in genre full intact.
Bryce Dallas Howard as Elly Conway in Argylle, directed by Matthew Vaughn.
The top level pitch of Argylle certainly promises a lot. Elly Conway (Bryce Dallas Howard), a lonely and neurotic spy novelist, is on the cusp of releasing the fifth entry in her highly popular series of novels starring the titular spy. But as she struggles to figure out how to wrap up her book, she makes a startling discovery: the events of the novels she wrote are less fictional than she realized. In fact, they reflect real geo-political intrigue, including a mysterious evil agency that would stop at nothing to read her newest novel.
She learns all this from Aidan(Sam Rockwell), an actual spy who drags her into the world of gun-swinging espionage. The dynamic is quickly established: Aidan drags Elly around, pulling her through the dangerous world he actually inhabits and she only previously wrote about. As twists and secrets are revealed, the world is unfurled and Elly discovers the truth about her prognosticating writing abilities.
Argylle’s marketing has promised grand reveals and secrets, so don’t expect any spoilers here. But suffice to say, the true identity of Agent Argylle is actually a central turning point of the film rather than a grand climatic reveal. The film is full of twists, some more absurd than others, but they are all done with a certain knowing wink that this is what movies like this are built upon anyway.
The biggest surprise however is how much of the movie hinges on the romance between Elly and Aidan. Yes this is still a big spy action thriller, but it is almost more about their odd couple dynamic. Rockwell is a perfect fit for an unconventional romantic leading man, a little scruffy and unpredictable, while Howard’s bubbling nervousness plays off his supreme confidence. But it’s when moments of tenderness bubble up between them that the chemistry pops, and the pair make for a very winning on-screen combination that plays with both their acting personas.
(from left) Lagrange (Dua Lipa) and Argylle (Henry Cavill) in Argylle, directed by Matthew Vaughn.
In addition to Howard and Rockwell, there is an all-star cast who all seem to be enjoying the high premise antics to be had. Henry Cavill plays the fictionalized Argylle, first in imagined spy scenarios from Elly’s novels, then later in visions she has of the action unfolding before her. Bryan Cranston lends his brand of snarling histrionics to play the big bad, mercilessly trying to track down Elly and learn her secrets. And old Vaughn partner Samuel L. Jackson shows up as…well, that’d be telling.
Perhaps Vaughn’s dedication to the romance angle reveals why his directorial edge seems edged down in other portions of the film. Whatever opinions one may have about Vaughn, he has always been a dynamic director of action, with his trademark long-take sequences that twirl and dance around a space. And while Argylle has plenty of dancing (you don’t cast Sam Rockwell and not have him dancing), his typical strengths are sadly lacking here. Action sequences are choppier, with quick cuts and oddly placed close-ups. The CGI components feel cheap as well, giving the action sequences a lackluster quality that disappoints given Vaughn’s previous pedigree. Save for one late sequence, which does mirror the heights of his pulse-pounding Kingsmen fight scenes in both violence and creativity, the actual spy business feel perfunctory and as if it were a hassle meant to be plowed through.
Unfortunately, this imbalance creates a final product that is an interesting experiment in meta-commentary that collapses under some of its own weight. It is probably telling that this is the first Vaughn film he didn’t at least partially write, instead working off of a screenplay by Jason Fuchs. There are sparks of interesting romantic filmmaking that Vaughn flirts with. But the parts that you would take for granted from a film under his leadership fall on their face, feeling disjointed and bored. Maybe Vaughn needs to step away from the spy genre, but a final stinger suggests bigger plans for Agent Argylle are on the horizon. One can only hope that Vaughn’s trademark zip for action comes with him next time.
A documentary about the miraculous wonder of hummingbirds makes a Sundance premiere
A still from EVERY LITTLE THING by Sally Aitken, an official selection of the U.S. Documentary Competition at the 2024 Sundance Film Festival. Courtesy of Sundance Institute.
Sally Aitken’s latest documentary is a miraculous, astonishing glimpse into the work of Terry Masear at her Los Angeles hummingbird rehab center. After luring the viewer in with incredible footage of hummingbirds in their natural habitat (with phenomenal cinematography work by Ann Prum), Every Little Thing goes deep into themes of resilience and recovery. As she introduces us to the avian characters she’s helped heal, Masear opens up to the viewer about her early life and what drew her to work with birds.
Aitken’s film has a fun editing style, keeping from a more typical documentary format. In the post-screening Q&A, the filmmaker spoke of aiming for a feeling of “fractured memory.” Thus, some generic archival footage, along with photos from Masear’s personal archive, is incorporated into the original material. This makes Every Little Thing more of an emotional work.
We see Masear’s frustration and anger with a negligent rescuer family who further abused a bird instead of bringing it to her earlier. Most of the rescuers we’re introduced to have connected emotionally with the hummingbirds they find and hope Masear can save them. Since she’s been doing this rehabilitation and therapy work for 20 years, she’s less optimistic about possible improvement. This doesn’t mean there aren’t unexpected moments of wonder and miracle in her work with hummingbirds.
Even the viewer grows attached to a couple of the characters we meet — Cactus grabbed my heart — in their journey to recovery. We learn about hummingbird aggression and other facts about the birds, but usually in relation to a larger, overarching theme. In this insular (very large) home Masear has created for herself and the birds in her care, the past creeps in.
The amazing sound work adds to the sense of place in Every Little Thing. The sound team captures the chirps, the flapping of wings, and other noises. The audience feels like we’re in the room or aviary with Masear and the birds. Caitlin Yeo’s score perfectly accompanies the movements of the birds and accentuates the emotional intensity.
Every Little Thing is a quiet marvel. I was a tad skeptical going into the viewing, but there’s an emotional and thematic depth here beyond expectation. Aitken and her team provide a sweet portrait of Masear and the generosity involved with her work saving hummingbirds.
Every Little Thing screened as part of the U.S. Documentary Competition at Sundance.
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 [email protected].
The Pick: Starship Troopers (Paul Verhoeven Retrospective)
We’re wrapping up 5 weeks of Paul Verhoeven picks, having covered RoboCop, Showgirls, Benedetta, Flesh + Blood, and now Starship Troopers. We tried to curate a few of the knowns and a couple of the less knowns. Some of the new, and some of the classic. Maybe someday we’ll dig in again and pull out a few other Verhoeven all-timers like Total Recall, Elle, or Basic Instinct. But for now, “would you like to know more?”
In my youth I was a critic for my college newspaper. As you do when you’re in your 20s you focus on the bad in movies rather than the good and try to make yourself seem much smarter than you are. One of the most scathing reviews I ever wrote was for Starship Troopers. I believe I said the acting was beneath a Dove soap commercial and Paul Verhoeven had become a pale imitation of his former self. I’ve been wrong plenty in my life, but I’m not sure I’ve ever been so wrong about a movie.
Overall, Starship Troopers is one of Verhoeven’s best, a film that takes the satire of Robocop to its logical conclusion. Starship Troopers gives us a world in which propaganda has become truth, whether we know it or not. The bugs with which we are at war are almost irrelevant to the concept of war being used to keep a society in check. In 1997 that message flew right over 21 year old me’s brain. In 2024, post 9/11, post Donald Trump, the message couldn’t be clearer. A totalitarian society can only exist by convincing the marginalized that the reason for their plight isn’t the people in charge, but rather the “other” and then mobilizing those marginalized to fight the “other,” rather than the social and political structures that keep them marginalized in the first place. As he often is, Verhoeven was spot on with his assessment, I just wasn’t mature enough to recognize it. Instead of giving a vapid, blank performance like I originally thought, Casper Van Dien is the perfect encapsulation of someone who could be manipulated by this system, and Verhoeven uses him to full effect. What I thought was a weakness in the action, namely that our soldiers seem to continually lose battles, is in fact a strength. These are battles they were never supposed to win in the first place. A society at continual war doesn’t have time to question the decisions that led to that war.
I would like to tell the old me that he really missed this one. Luckily current me understands that Starship Troopers is the movie Verhoeven had been building toward his entire career, and as such might be his true masterpiece. Also, Johnny Rico is a moron. Dizzy is right there.
Mike Scott is the host of the Action For Everyone podcast alongside Vyce Victus and Liam O’Donnell.
Is… is Paul Verhoeven a prophet? His hair-brained sci-fi takes from RoboCop to Total Recall to Starship Troopers were just incredibly ahead of their time and Starship may be the work of his that was most misunderstood at the time of release, but which has been more fully understood to be a fascist farce as time has gone on. Watching Starship Troopers today still feels like a biting experience as our society flirts with nationalism and fascism and the use of hate to rally the troops. I’ve revisited Starship Troopers many times over the years and it’s a film that rewards revisit. As a teen upon its initial release I think I saw it as a film played straight, so it was something I thought was cool and badass, but ultimately cheesy. Later in life I became aware of the social satire components, the withholding of citizenship unless you enlist, the nazi-esque uniforms worn by our protagonists, etc. Now revisiting again, Starship Troopers is almost nothing short of a revelation as it works as an incredible visual work of epic space action, it bites and stings in all the right places as a critique of of the constant military industrial complex, and it also lands as a well-plotted journey following our (still cheesy, but intentionally so) characters through their lives as fresh-faced students and into full-blooded soldiers (nay fascists). It’s a complex movie that’ll have you cheering one minute and questioning your own motives for cheering the next. It’s phenomenal blockbuster filmmaking that, all these years later, still feels unsafe. A few personal notes are that I love how Verhoeven often works with similar casts and crews over the years and he brought back the master Basil Poledouris for the score here. I also find the bug designs to be absolutely incredible. Even all these years and hundreds of creature-features later, Starship Troopers’ iconic bugs stand the test of blended practical and visual effects time. And, of course, there’s that love triangle between Casper Van Dien’s Johnny Rico, Denise Richards’ Carmen, and Dina Meyer’s Dizzy. Verhoeven, forgive us, for we knew not what we had in 1997.
Likely my favorite Verhoeven film – certainly a top 2-3 (as I noted with Showgirls, as well) – Starship Troopers is a remarkably fun action film and a poignant satire on militarism and fascism, two things as prevalent in the world now as ever. The fact that so many adult humans didn’t get the satire of this film when it was released is almost hilarious (and sad) to me. As a youth, I surely didn’t get it… but I was a kid. As soon as I rewatched it early in college, I realized that the over-the-top action film I thought was just a fun nonsense film when I was 15 was so much more.
Of course, the sex scene, the shower scene, and the insane action sequences remain a blast, but so many of the film’s moments resonate with me now in such a more meaningful way. Seeing the fascistic ideals in the film’s text and subtext hits harder than ever in this post-Trump world. The film still remains a delight to watch, even as its satire bites hard, though. Certain allegorical films about such topics have begun to feel too heavy for me, but I rewatch this one at least yearly these days.
This all said, I genuinely love this film and am happy we were able to wrap up this month of Verhoeven with something so fun and potent. And, yes… I would like to know more.
A genre-defying cinematic exploration of family and shared memory
A still from The Mother of All Lies by Asmae El Moudir, an official selection of the Spotlight program at the 2024 Sundance Film Festival. Courtesy of Sundance Institute | photo by Insightfilms.
Asmae El Moudir’s film Mother of All Lies is a family affair. With the participation of her grandmother, parents and a couple of former neighbors, the director tries to answer a few important questions in this category-defying film. The work is not a straightforward documentary and it’s not technically “animated,” even if miniatures are used for reenactments.
El Moudir employs multiple storytelling methods within this fascinating feature. Her dad Mohammed and she construct a set of their old neighborhood on a small scale, using miniature figures he formed to represent each of them, as well as other townspeople. The filmmaker begins by telling us about her childhood determination to have a photo taken of herself; one of the many ways her grandmother exerted control over the family was not allowing any photos, besides a portrait of the deceased grandfather.
A still from The Mother of All Lies by Asmae El Moudir, an official selection of the Spotlight program at the 2024 Sundance Film Festival. Courtesy of Sundance Institute | photo by Insightfilms.
It’s frankly surprising that her grumpy grandmother participates in this film at all, given her tendency to argue. She bickers with Asmae about whether she’s a director or not (Grandmother calls her a journalist). She won’t give a straight answer when asked about her dislike of photographs. She’s downright cruel to neighbors Abdallah and Said. Yet we see some of El Moudir’s affection for the cantankerous matriarch, even as the filmmaker asserts her independence.
Given that Mother of All Lies is primarily shot in an upstairs studio, the film can feel claustrophobic and disturbing. Strange camera angles force the viewer to look up through clear surfaces or face people straight-on through close-up shots. This exploration of myth and memory is intense, and even hard-to-watch in certain moments. One of those is neighbor Abdallah’s recall of his imprisonment during the Casablanca Bread Riots in 1981. He reenacts the horrific situation, layering miniatures on the floor of the small prison set as the bodies lay in his memory.
The filmmaker shows us only one photo remains to document the events of the 1981 massacre in the city. That won’t stop relatives and neighbors from remembering their friends and family who were killed. “It doesn’t matter if bodies disappear, if pictures went missing, our memories are alive,” El Moudir stresses to the audience. This unusual documentary, with an ending that made me smile despite the weighty subject, is one to be remembered.
The Mother of All Lies screened under the Spotlight section of the Sundance Film Festival.
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