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INDIANA JONES AND THE DIAL OF DESTINY Turns Back the Clock to Deliver a Strong Finisher
Image: ©2023 Lucasfilm Ltd. & TM. All Rights Reserved. Call it the Rocky Balboa of the Indy series, because the delightful Dial of Destiny follows up a rare franchise misstep (the abysmal Kingdom of the Crystal Skull) with a “can’t let it end there” late-breaking sequel that puts things back on track.
The film kicks off with a flashback to WWII that plants the seeds for the present (1969) plot by introducing the villain and the MacGuffin (of “and the” fame), but just as importantly, it is a throwback and homage to the classic Indy we love: chasing relics, working with an academic sidekick named Basil (Toby Jones), stealing uniforms, bumbling around a bit, and punching Nazis. The “de-aging” used here looks great overall – it’s not perfect (it never is), but it’s some of the best that I’ve seen, especially in such a sustained context. There’s some visual gags, a car chase, and a speeding train (plus the terrific Thomas Kretschmann in a brief but memorable role). It’s that good-good stuff, and a reminder of why we love Indy.
Image: ©2022 Lucasfilm Ltd. & TM. All Rights Reserved. It’s the script’s way of letting us have our cake and eat it, too. At 80 years old, beloved icon Harrison Ford may no longer fit the idealized image of an action star, but we get some of that “Indy in his prime” action, to not only whet our appetite but serve as a contrast to an older Indy who’s no longer at the top of his game, but – to his own surprise – still has one more adventure left in the tank.
Henry Jones no longer seeks adventure, but it finds him anyway when he’s suddenly visited by two different parties both seeking the same artifact, the Antikythera, a remarkable and impossibly advanced mechanical device of indeterminate purpose, created by Archimedes. One of them is his god-daughter Helena (Phoebe Waller-Bridge) whom he hasn’t seen in years, the daughter of his old friend Basil. The other, a group of goons in the employ of Dr. Voller (Mads Mikkelson), the Nazi from whom Indy and Basil stole the device on that night in 1944.
Image: ©2022 Lucasfilm Ltd. & TM. All Rights Reserved. Helena bears some resemblance to a younger “fortune and glory” minded version of Indy, which makes it hard to get a bead on just where her loyalties lie. She even brings back a bit of Short Round’s spirit in the form of Teddy (Ethann Isidore), her own pickpocketing kid sidekick.
Mikkelson serves as both a foe and foil for Indy, with whom he has a shared history. Like Indy, he’s resourceful and intelligent. But unlike Indy, who has lost his sense of resolution, he has a very determined purpose (to restore the Third Reich).
Image: ©2023 Lucasfilm Ltd. & TM. All Rights Reserved. This take on Indy is a little different than anything we’ve seen before. Life’s handed him some knocks and he’s feeling tired and aimless. Being pushed back into an old conflict isn’t just another adventure; it’s a test of his mettle, a challenge to once again find his center.
After a brief but welcome catch-up with Sallah (John Rhys Davies), Indy’s once again off on a globe-trotting mission, which will take him on a tuk-tuk chase though the streets and alleys of Morocco, a dive to search a sunken shipwreck in the Mediterranean, and a quest for the tomb of Archimedes in Greece.
Image: ©2022 Lucasfilm Ltd. & TM. All Rights Reserved. One thing I personally really disliked about the prior Indy film Kingdom of the Crystal Skull was how much of a cartoon it was. And I don’t mean the Saturday matinee tone, I mean that the action sequences all feel like green screens and animation with no weight or stakes. If you try to compare the famed convoy chase in Raiders with the jungle chase in Crystal Skull, the vast gulf in quality will break your brain.
Dial of Destiny seems to be very aware of this common criticism. While I don’t doubt that it uses a ton of CGI, it does so very effectively, and achieves an effective sense of reality, veering away from over-the-top spectacle and nonsense in favor of tactile realism that’s either in-camera or makes an effort to look that way. Even the 1969 New York locale (which I felt unimpressed with when I first saw it in a trailer) feels somewhat grounded.
My biggest criticism with Dial of Destiny is that, even more so than Crystal Skull, this film is missing a very particular and critical key ingredient: some really gnarly and supernatural death scenes. Remember Nazis exploding and melting, a kid getting his heart ripped out, Julian Glover decaying Evil Dead-style into a shriveled corpse, and Pat Roach getting splattered by background elements (twice)? These were some of the most memorable scenes of the classic trilogy, especially for kids. This series was famous for its gleefully gruesome scenes that forced Hollywood to adopt a PG-13 rating because kids (or their parents) were traumatized. I miss that. Crystal Skull at least feigned at this with dudes getting overrun by cartoon ants; Dial of Destiny prefers its deaths non-fantastical and off-camera.
There’s also another missed opportunity here in the failure to bring back another fan favorite character, Short Round. I don’t want to get too mired in this since it’s an unfair criticism to judge a film by what it “should have” done instead of how well it did what it set out to do, but the erasure of this character is a long-term failure of the series; a narrative hole that gets wider with each passing film. Short Round speaks to Indy’s better nature as an adoptive father figure who would rather take a kid under his wing than leave him on the streets. It’s not a relationship that should be narratively cast aside, and as the final film in the saga, Dial of Destiny fails to address that particular flaw in the series – forever.
Image: ©2022 Lucasfilm Ltd. & TM. All Rights Reserved. These probably seem like minor problems (or not problems at all) to most viewers, though I feel quite strongly about them. Outside of these complaints, though, I really enjoyed this film and will undoubtedly have it “in the rotation”. It’s not quite at the same level as the original trilogy, but it’s incredibly enjoyable in the way an Indy movie should be, and about a million times better than Crystal Skull (much in the same way that The Force Awakens felt to me after the Star Wars prequel trilogy).
It was risky, no doubt about it, to return to the well with an 80-year old actor and try to bring back the old magic, but Dial of Destiny handily achieves what it sets out to do (if not what I wanted it do do), delivering up a great last adventure and ending the series on a grace note instead of a brown one.
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CFF 2023: NEW RELIGION is a Surreal Exploration of Grief, Death, and Hope?
If you’ve ever wondered what a J-Horror film directed by a Blue Velvet era David Lynch would be like, New Religion, which just screened at the Chattanooga Film Fest, is your answer. The surreal thriller opens with the accidental death of Miyabi’s (Kaho Seto) young daughter, who jumps off the balcony while her mother reads at the kitchen table. We then flash a few years later as Miyabi is now divorced, still living in the same apartment, and working as a call girl to support her and her DJ boyfriend (Saionji Ryuseigun).
Soon she inherits an odd client from one of her former colleagues. The moth-obsessed man who lost his voice box to cancer, eerily speaks through the speakers in the pitch black apartment. Rather than sex, he simply wants to take Polaroids of the young woman’s various body parts. As she begins entertaining the strange man’s wishes, she begins to hear her daughter’s voice and begins to feel her presence more and more in her apartment with every twisted photo session.
Moths in Japanese culture symbolize dreams, and can also represent death and rebirth. It’s these themes that all coalesce to great effect in New Religion as the film’s narrative is propelled by a Lynchian dream-like logic. Miyabi moves through her world shuttled from client to client an empty shell of a woman stuck in her cocoon, that is until she meets the man who can give her daughter, and life back to her. But at what cost? While this strange behavior begins to escalate, she’s warned of her co-worker who experienced something similar with her dead father, before she snapped went on a killing spree and vanished.
It’s these threads of dreams, life and death that director Keishi Kondo masterfully weaves together through striking cinematography punctuated by moments of surreal giallo-infused imagery. It works to perfectly illustrate Miyabi’s melancholic existence, that has her unable to love after that tragic moment and forever looking to re-attain it. Kaho Seto as Miyabi is a revelation here, as the woman who is just raw nerve on screen just filled with sadness and regret, while also still somehow hanging on to hope with an unhinged desperation.
New Religion is a compelling and assured debut that makes me more than curious what this young director has planned next. Infused with mythology, thematic puzzles and metaphorical rabbit holes, New Religion is the nihilistic search for the ultimate truths and what can happen to those that search for them. The film also shows how terrifying hope can be, and the lengths it can drive some. The symbolism in this film, coupled with its surreal imagery delivers a rich cinematic journey that will both delight and horrify those that choose to seek it out.
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CFF 2023: STAG, Horror with Heart!
Stag was a completely blind watch on the Chattanooga Film Fest virtual platform, based simply on the odd hand drawn cover art that for some reason beckoned to me.
Written and directed by Alexandra Spieth, the film is the story of City Girl Jenny (Mary Glen Fredrick) who, like most of us, stalks her high school friends on social media. When she discovers her estranged best friend Mandy (Elizabeth Ramos) is getting married, she impulsively reaches out to the woman she hasn’t spoken to in over a decade, hoping to reconnect. Inadvertently she ends up invited to Mandy’s bachelorette party at a secluded cabin, with some of her closest friends. While Jenny attempts to find some sort of redemption for past transgressions, the other guests mysteriously begin to disappear. It’s a setup that we’ve seen countless times before, but thanks to Alexandra Spieth, it’s been transformed into an oddly endearing horror comedy about growing up, friendship and trust.
The script here is just so damn charming and more than makes up for any shortcomings in production value or VFX. While the characters start off as broad archetypes, they slowly evolve into familiar faces of any friend group. This is complemented with an emotionally engaging crux really drew me in to the mystery of not just what is happening to our campers, but what destroyed their BFF status. Paired with that script is a cast acutely attuned to each role, without falling too into the realm of stereotypes, the bubbly ensemble effortlessly breathes life into this circle of friends. Clear standout Mary Glen Fredrick simply shines here as Jenny who plays the sympathetic outsider, who’s hoping to mend her friendship. She’s paired with Elizabeth Ramos who does an equally impressive job at crafting the kind of heartfelt performance I wasn’t ready for, as the betrayed friend looking for some sort of closure.
Stag was a punk rock horror comedy with a real heart, and one that defies genre norms to tell this story of friendship, right along with its folk horror, spam in a cabin premise. Sure there’s the horror elements – a cabin in the woods, people dropping off like flies. But here it thankfully takes a backseat to the interpersonal struggle between these two women, who hope not only to make it out of this weekend alive, but mend their bond in the process. It’s something that you don’t see nearly enough in horror, but here it takes this well-worn premise and transforms it into something much more, an endearing story that no doubt will inspire and uplift rather than simply deliver the bodycount.
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One Relic Hunts Down Another in INDIANA JONES AND THE DIAL OF DESTINY
Relics and Regret, Aging and Adventure. Harrison Ford whips up one last performance for the series.
For over 40 years, Indiana Jones has delivered a quintessential slice of adventure. A series crafted by George Lucas in homage to the TV serial adventures of his youth, stories drawing from myth and antiquity, guided the sublime hand of Steven Spielberg, and driven by the charms of its lead, Harrison Ford. After the muddled effort that was Kingdom of the Crystal Skull, we last saw Indy in 1957, fresh off foiling a Soviet threat, reunited with old flame Marion Ravenwood (Karen Allen) and his estranged son Mutt (Shia). James Mangold (3:10 to Yuma, Logan, Ford v Ferrari) takes the reigns for this new installment, one that opens in the last days of World War II, where Indy (a de-aged Ford) and academic associate Basil Shaw (Toby Jones) are on a mission to save some priceless artifacts from the Nazis. Scavenging treasures as they make their retreat across the continent. While making their escape, they cross paths with Nazi scientist Dr. Jürgen Voller (Mads Mikkelsen) who has in his possession one half of the famed Archimedes dial. A relic of the ancient Greek inventor that once rebuilt, is believed to lead the bearer to fractures in time. Taking custody of the artifact, the pair make their escape as the Third Reich comes crashing down.
Flash forward to 1969. Dr. Voller is now aiding the US with rocket development under the protection of Operation Paperclip. Dr. Jones is on the cusp of retirement. The family unit we saw in his future has fragmented. Old, alone, a man out of his time and out of his prime. Enter Helena (Phoebe Waller-Bridge), Shaw’s daughter and Indy’s goddaughter, who has picked up her now deceased father’s festering obsession with the dial. Dragged back into action, the aging adventurer finds himself in a race against a face from the past, as Voller is determined to use his position and privilege to find and unify the two pieces of the dial, and use it to right the outcome of the war, and put the Nazi’s on the winning side.
Set in the shadow of the moon landing, it’s a great backdrop to revisit an old archeologist in as new age. An era where Americans look to the stars and Indy is still digging in the dirt. The students in his final class have eyes glazed with boredom, rather than adored with messages of adoration. Professionally and personally, he’s mired in the past. It’s a great angle to revisit the franchise, and to give Harrison Ford something meaty to dig into. A return to a role that complements his other recent revivals in the Star Wars sequels, and the superb Blade Runner 2049. Roles that reflect on how the years have been both kind and unkind to these embattled men. For Indy, it’s a begrudging return that opens up into a chance to correct some of his mistakes.
You’d think after his potent and poignant handling of Wolverine’s swansong in Logan, James Mangold would be perfect for this Indy’s last huzzah, but instead of leveraging nostalgia and building on history, he gets mired in it. The story unfolds in a familiar way, delivers moments of action, snappy one liners, and a great cast. There’s even a magical score from John Williams. But overall, the film recycled and clunky. So rooted in nostalgia and paying homage that it forgets to cut loose and have a bit of fun. Surprisingly for Mangold, the action beats are some of the weaker aspects of the film. Muddled sequences, poorly cut and framed, clunkily paced, and often exposing some of the shoddy effects work. The opener encapsulates this perfectly, with a de-aged Harrison Ford taking center stage and driving home the lifelessness and lack of physicality in CGI-driven sequences, as well as the ongoing questionability of leveraging this technology into films. Dial of Destiny just lacks that breathless sense of adventure that infused its predecessors, and the wit Spielberg brought to his set-pieces.
The addition of Phoebe Waller-Bridge is certainly a rejuvenating presence, adding a chaotic energy and cheeky freshness to proceedings. Her sidekick Teddy while played admirably by Ethann Isidore, is sadly written as a pale imitation of Short Round. Voller (Mads Voller is again a lightly sketched character, but Mikkelsen infuses him with a quiet fanaticism that makes him effectively menacing. Boyd Holbrook is perfectly serviceable as his right hand man Klaber. One standout who sadly doesn’t get swept along for the duration of the film is Shaunette Renée Wilson, whose CIA agent Mason feels the most era-appropriate character in the lineup, and like a truly untapped resource. While Ford’s performance doesn’t quite match the gruff grandeur of his return to han Solo in The Force Awakens, he showcases his range, and adds empathy to a character that has made him a household name. Despite Ford’s clear commitment, the script from Mangold, David Koepp, and Jez & John-Henry Butterworth feels like a real missed opportunity to take this character and this shift in era, and get into any deep exploration. Personal investment and character motivations shift according to the needs of the plot. Characters that seem well positioned to spark off each other’s themes and journeys, barely spend any time together. This older Indy seems more predisposed to punch his way out of situations than think his way out. In fact more problem solving seems to fall in Helena’s lap than his. It speaks to thinking about the old, rather than what is immediately at hand.
One part of the film does flex in terms of its boldness, a wild left-turn coming in the final act. It stands out, even with previous films showcasing Nazis melting from the wrath of God, demonic black magic, or aliens ascending to the heavens in a flying saucer. It’s a sequence that is surprisingly poetic and gets to refocus the film on how archeologists are obsessed with antiquity. Their dreams and desires look to the past. We see how Indy’s mindset puts him at odds with the present, and indeed his own future. Rather than resolve this once and for all, the film takes the choice away from him. Even its ending embraces one path, then snatches it away. Dial of Destiny is at its core about the damage that comes with holding onto the past. Ironic then that Mangold’s chapter in the Indiana Jones franchise so often seems afraid to commit to something new, depriving it of any real sense of adventure.
Indiana Jones and the Dial of Destiny hits theaters on June 30th
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CFF 2023: THE ELDERLY is a Nightmarish Look at Aging Through a Geronotophobic Lens
The Elderly which just screened at the Chattanooga Film Fest is a Spanish thriller that is a nightmarish look at aging through a gerontophobic lens.The film starts the plot boiling with an octogenarian woman’s suicide, during a record setting heatwave in the near future. We then follow her husband Manuel (Zorion Eguileor) who goes to live with his son Mario (Gustavo Salmerón), who’s understandably worried about his father’s well being. However, Mario’s new and expecting wife Lena (Irene Anula) isn’t too happy with their new house guest, while their daughter Naiai (Paula Gallego) couldn’t be happier. For the first act, the film is a really sincere take on family, grief, and mortality, while also throwing in some red flags from Manuel that are easily dismissed due to dementia. Manuel’s been hearing voices and randomly murmurs that he plans to kill his entire family the following night.
But he’s just old and his wife just died, and old people say crazy things sometimes.
From there Raúl Cerezo and Fernando González Gómez continue to build on that base turning up the heat both narratively and metaphorically with family drama, while also dropping more disturbing outbursts from Manuel that could be simply due to the stress of losing his wife of 50 years, the heatwave or something much more sinister. The ensemble here is just sublime and that is what really makes this narrative as completely engrossing as it is. There’s some very personal themes at work here as the film dissects this family dynamic and how they cope with grief, while also attempting to heal and move on. The drama is heightened by the sweltering heat wave that covers our cast in sweat and fills the entire frame in an amber haze, as time here is told by the increasing temperature rather than a ticking clock.
The Elderly somehow manages to take the wonderful interpersonal drama and emotional cache it builds up in the first two acts and throw that into the woodchipper for a third act that culminates in gut-wrenching bloodbath. Its thematic interpretation in that last 20 minutes wasn’t exactly what I was expecting, but it was something that the more I’ve ruminated on, only made more sense. I think that’s the impressive part here, is just how much of that is baked in the script from the get-go just waiting to be unleashed. Raúl Cerezo and Fernando González Gómez have crafted a film that feels akin to Hereditary meets Invasion of the Body Snatchers and I can’t recommend it enough. It’s the kind of familial horror and that’s a real rarity, in that by the time things get weird, you’re completely and totally vested in these people, their relationships and their fates.
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RUBY GILLMAN: TEENAGE KRAKEN Beautifully Blends Family Dramedy and Kaiju Antics
Ruby Gillman (Lana Condor) in DreamWorks Animation’s Ruby Gillman, Teenage Kraken, directed by Kirk DeMicco. A time-honored tradition in children’s entertainment is the conflict between older generations and youth. Be it a misunderstanding, a conflict with expected tradition and personal desire, or just a general since of distance, a conflict between the young protagonist and their family serves as the backbone of countless films for audiences that are meant to identify with that younger hero.
This theme really picked up steam in the films of my own youth. I saw countless movies based around the struggle to pull away from a perceived oppression, often leading to reconciliation between the parental figure and the viewpoint character. This was most often met with a loosening of the reigns, giving the hero more freedom, or at the very least understanding, that the familial expectations were unreasonable all along.
These themes have certainly not slowed down, though the complexity of their representation has deepened over time. The narrative of “parents just don’t understand” evolved into explorations of shared, generational trauma, as exemplified in films such as Coco and Encanto, where parental oppression was a manifestation of past pain and structured as a means of protection. This recontextualization of the complications of the family dynamic has become a seemingly ever-present bedrock for family entertainment; it just was the central conflict in Pixar’s newest, Elemental. As does the newest outing from DreamWorks, the excellent Ruby Gillman: Teenage Kraken.
What separates Ruby Gillman from the pack however is its surprising carefulness with these topics, specifically in the area of presenting a parental perspective that is neither shallow nor tortured. Rather the film opts for a complicated family dynamic where no side of it is completely in the right or the wrong, but rather operating under their own perception of best intentions. The conflict then comes from a lack of clarity, and leads to escalating stakes. It is less intergenerational trauma as it is a distance based on silence, secrets and lies, an immediately recognizable real hurdle for all families to tackle directly.
This complex, but relatable, depiction of a tricky family dynamic is just one thing that Ruby Gillman has going for it. It is also amusing and charming, using a dynamic animation style that grabs you from the first moment, and utilizes visually dense humor, melding mile-a-minute visual gags alongside DreamWorks’ more traditional patter humor. It is centered around a predictable but engaging adventure, and taps into a sense of youth culture that is simultaneously current and universal. And it taps into the visual iconography of Japanese kaiju films, without leaning into self-parody. After last year’s The Last Wish and The Bad Guys, it continues the studios hot streak of films that engage genre filmmaking in creative and surprising ways.
The titular Ruby is indeed a teenage kraken, though for the film’s language, kraken’s are blue-skinned, boneless creatures that are traditionally sea-dwellers. That “traditionally” caveat does a lot of work here however, as Ruby’s family (specifically her mom and dad and little brother) live on land in a small oceanside town, posing as “Canadians” to anyone who might have questions about their unusual appearance. A junior in high school supported by her squad of intellectual weirdos, Ruby is mostly concerned with fitting in, getting good grades, and asking her crush Connor out to prom, all while staying out of the water, her mother’s one non-negotiable rule.
This all escalates when Ruby has to save Connor from drowning by diving into the ocean, only to soon after grow to a monstrous size. Because not only is Ruby a kraken, but turns out she is a giant kraken, capable of growing to massive size as well as harnessing incredible powers. Facts her mother never told her before. When Ruby learns more about her heritage from her Grandmamah, who turns out to be the Queen of the Krakens, it creates a rift between her and her mother. This rift grows even wider once Ruby befriends Chelsea, a new girl in town who is also secretly a mermaid, the sworn enemies of the krakens.This is the balancing act that Ruby Gillman performs deftly, balancing a fun sea-based adventure about giant monsters and mystic wars between krakens and mermaids, with the dynamics of a family dramedy, where the emotional stakes are re-establishing good faith. To this end, Ruby Gillman shares a lot of DNA with Turning Red, another film in the intergenerational trauma genre. But what Ruby Gillman is able to pull off more successfully is depicting this rift as multi-faceted. Ruby’s mom, Agatha, as voice acted by Toni Collette, is not simply a well-meaning but pig-headed parental figure who is making the same mistakes of her own childhood. Rather, she is someone who is trying to protect her children from a war that they owe nothing to; by contrast, from Grandmamah’s (Jane Fonda) perspective, Agatha neglected her duty, walking away from her birthright as protector of the sea.
These aren’t easy dynamics to take a simple side on, nor are the expectations place on Ruby especially fair or reasonable. As voice acted by Lana Condor and portrayed in an elastic, squash-and-stretch animation style by DreamWorks’ army of veteran animators, Ruby is a perfectly portrayed youth hero: equal parts cool and approachably nerdy, uncomfortable in her skin but instantly likable, she navigates discovering colossal truths about her family history with a sort of even-handed tact that makes her easy to root for. It would be perhaps a step too far to call Ruby Gillman the film hip, but in its “star”, it has created one of the most immediately winning heroes in the studios historic career.
The overall structure of the story that Ruby Gillman tells is admittedly unremarkable, predictable and somewhat pulling from tropes from other films, but it is in these margins that it really wins, with strong personality that elevates fairly stock-standard story beats to something that rewards the viewer, that provides a world that draws them in. Family dynamics are complicated, and most films engage with those tricky navigations with a sort of sledgehammer approach, suggesting that intergenerational conflicts are primarily caused by older generations simply not recognizing their children’s needs. But sometimes the process of discovering those needs require bursting through those conflicts, finding means of expression and providing avenues to grow in conversation with people who love us the most.
And sometimes it requires turning into a gigantic monster. -
THE DRAUGHTSMAN’S CONTRACT is a Lush and Lurid Debut from Peter Greenaway
The theatrical debut from one of Britain’s most commanding and controversial auteurs arrives on Blu-ray in a breathtaking 4K restoration
The Cook, the Thief, His Wife, and Her Lover was a monumental film for me–Peter Greenaway’s film was a provocatively sensual epic through human depravity and cultural appreciation, one that served as a hell of an introduction to the British auteur’s esoteric, deeply immersive, and rigorously experimental filmography. Today, much of Greenaway’s filmography has been challenging to come across in the States, with much of it relegated to out-of-print DVDs of now-dubious quality. However, thanks to the efforts of the British Film Institute, much of Greenaway’s work has been intensively restored–and Zeitgeist Films and Kino Lorber have acquired a handful of these viscerally effective new presentations for US audiences eager to discover these challenging and spellbinding works.
Chief among these new releases is Greenaway’s theatrical debut, The Draughtsman’s Contract. Set in 1694 Restoration England, the film follows the toxic relationship between Mrs. Virginia Herbert (Janet Suzman), the wife of a wealthy estate owner, and Robert Neville (Anthony Higgins), an egotistical and lecherous draughtsman (architectural drafter). Mrs. Herbert’s impotent husband is well known among the British aristocracy for caring about his sprawling manor and its gardens far more than his own family; in an attempt to rebuild her relationship with him, Mrs. Herbert is determined to hire Mr. Neville to create 12 intricately-detailed drawings of various angles of the estate. Completely disinterested in anything beyond his own intellectual or libidinous curiosity, Mrs. Herbert and Neville enter into a contract for his employ that not only includes room, board, and a sizable payment for his work, but also sexual favors that Mrs. Herbert must grant to Neville upon the completion of each drawing.
However, as Neville further antagonizes the members of the household–from Mrs. Herbert to her daughter, Mrs. Talmann (Anne-Louise Lambert), and her snobbish German husband (Hugh Fraser)–he stumbles upon another secretive aspect of the Herbert estate. Stray clues have appeared amongst Neville’s chosen landscapes, including a ladder propped against a window, a shirt tossed amidst some trees, and riding boots abandoned in a meadow. Here, Greenaway’s film devilishly shifts from a lurid period drama into a far more sinister and intriguing register; amidst its litany of artistic and thematic symbolism, The Draughtsman’s Contract aims to be an ancestor of Agatha Christie’s murder mysteries. Each clue in Neville’s drawings may point to the covered-up murder of Mr. Herbert–and those who wish to keep such matters buried may now be drawn to place suspicions on Mr. Neville himself.
Greenaway’s love for intricate detail in each of his frames finds its origins in this debut feature. Evoking baroque paintings lush with thematic or emotional suggestion, The Draughtsman’s Contract hides many of its elusive answers within stray details lurking at the edges of what we can see…while showcasing the lurid and depraved behavior such an era sought to repress. For all of its exacting replication of Restoration-era life in Britain, Greenaway revels in the provocative actions of the characters who must do whatever they physically or emotionally must in order to maintain illusions of social etiquette or status. Woven within such static imagery and frenzied emotion are vast libraries’ worth of symbolism pulling from centuries of literary or artistic history, each providing intriguing clues to the motivations of both Greenaway and his characters. It’s a testament to Greenaway’s early command as a director that he pulls off such elaborate, head-spinning tapestries of dense referentiality and potentially repulsive human behavior–all to reveal just how much beauty and brutality anyone is capable of regardless of their stature in society.
The Draughtsman’s Contract is a fantastic debut film from Greenaway whose ambiguous approach to its mystery and myriad details lends itself to rewarding repeat viewings, especially in this vibrant restoration by the British Film Institute.
Video/Audio
Kino Lorber and Zeitgeist Films present The Draughtsman’s Contract in 1080p in its original 1.66:1 aspect ratio, sourced from a 2022 4K restoration by the British Film Institute. The restoration is accompanied by a 2.0-Channel DTS-HD Master Audio track, also restored by the BFI. English SDH subtitles are provided for the feature film.
Curtis Clark’s lush, painterly cinematography is vibrantly restored in this new release. Natural and manmade textures are beautifully rendered, from polished wood interiors and elaborate wigs and costumes lit by candlelight to the lush greenery of the estate’s exteriors. The image is free of print damage while retaining grain levels that lend a welcome depth to Clark and Greenaway’s deliberately constructed tableaux. The opening scenes, set in claustrophobic vignettes featuring the film’s lead characters, have a warm candlelit softness that directly contrasts against the sharp black shadows that permeate the edges of the frame, which gives way to clearer imagery with greater depth of field as the film continues and the central mystery deepens. The 2-channel surround track places Greenaway’s witty dialogue and Michael Nyman’s thrumming score front and center, with occasional sounds of nature on the sonic periphery yet never intruding on these main elements. Dialogue is crisp and distinct, while Nyman’s score creates a propulsive sonic landscape from period-inspired compositions and modern synths.
Special Features
- Commentary: A 2003 archival track featuring writer-director Peter Greenaway. Greenaway conducts an academic yet involving guide through his debut film, noting crucial decisions during production that served his exacting vision yet remained honed to the practicalities of a short shooting schedule, as well as further explanations for some of the film’s more obscure historical and thematic elements. Of particular focus are historical contexts for the film’s Restoration-era setting, which carries weight on the characters’ relationships and motivations that may go unheeded by modern or non-British audiences.
- Introduction by Peter Greenaway: A 2003 archival introduction to The Draughtsman’s Contract by the film’s writer-director, beginning by Greenaway’s recollection of how he began his transition from the art world into filmmaking through the British Government’s Central Office of Information, his creation of mock-documentary The Falls and other TV films, leading to his seizing the chance to create a theatrical film on the behest of the British Film Institute.
- Short Films: Four original shorts by Greenaway are included–Intervals (1969), Windows (1974), Dear Phone (1976), and Water Wrackets (1978).
- Behind-the-Scenes Footage: Five minutes’ worth of BTS footage of one of the film’s climactic scenes featuring Anthony Higgins, Janet Suzman, and Anne-Louise Lambert, in addition to on-set interviews with Suzman, Greenaway, and Higgins.
- Deleted Scenes: Just over ten minutes’ worth of deleted scenes, including Neville’s absurd search for the right chair in which to do his sketching, Noyes’ cheeky tale about a lord and a cure involving Watercress, Neville inquiring Virginia about the mysterious death of Mr. Herbert, and Neville impatiently waiting out a spot of rain on the estate.
- Interview with Composer Michael Nyman: An except from a 2002 National Film Theatre interview, Greenaway’s regular composer discusses with David Thompson how he began his collaborative relationship with Greenaway, and his stylistic influences on The Draughtsman’s Contract.
- Restoration Trailer: A modern 2022 trailer for the BFI’s restoration of the film.
The Draughtsman’s Contract is now available on Blu-ray courtesy of Kino Lorber and Zeitgeist Films.
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CFF 2023: SUBJECT is a Transgressive Tour de Force
Subject, which I just caught virtually at the Chattanooga Film Fest is not a film that’s easily recommended due its subject matter, but that said it’s definitely a worthy watch for those interested in darker forays of cinema. The film follows Willem Peters (Stephen Phillips) on his way to prison for a sexual assault. His transport is held up at gunpoint and he is offered a choice by the hijackers: go directly to prison, or participate in an experiment for a chance to have his sentence commuted. Of course he takes the deal, and ends up in a dark cell where he is surrounded by cameras and tasked with making daily observations on a dark creature, who from a plate glass window spends its time silently gazing at Willem. As the film progresses Willem’s sanity and his past are unraveled as director Tristan Barr plunges the depths of this man’s diseased mind.
What starts off as more of a found footage foray into dark sci-fi, slowly devolves into a transgressive deconstruction of power and fear. What that film lacks in budget, it more than makes up for it with its dense and chilling narrative filled with unflinching metaphors. Director Tristan Barr is careful to keep the reins in on where we as an audience are to stand with Willem, as we gaze at both monsters through the safety of our screen. It’s through shards and crumbs of found footage we see his life pre-cell. We see hard drugs seep into his life, and after the death of his wife from cancer it allowed other more terrifying demons to operate unchecked on his children through him. We then witness Willem fall prey to a similar power dynamic of fear, intimidation and eventually assault by the creature who spends every waking moment transfixed on its prey
Subject is a transgressive tour de force by lead Stephen Phillips, who spends the majority of the film solitary, emotionally naked and completely lost in a thankless role that’s as inhuman as the thing behind the glass. But that’s the point here and it’s something that will challenge most viewers since we are not simply there to take pleasure in his descent or cheer him on, but to see and attempt to understand the shift of power on our protagonist and how the film uses that to deconstruct abusive relationships. Just to drive home that point, there’s a therapist who regularly checks in on Willem, whose sole purpose is making sure he doesn’t get too complacent and hopefully understands this experiment is as much about the predator he is speaking to, as the one behind the glass.
You can still buy badges for virtual CFF here and you can catch SUBJECT on ScreamBox in August 22nd!
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Take Me Down to the ASTEROID CITY
“The world will never be the same.”
Wes Anderson has provided an output like no other; a collection of films that finds humor in the minutiae of everyday life that hold up just as much now as they did when first released. The writer/director has found both arthouse and commercial success with films that manage to feel classic without coming off as antiquated. This is due in large part to the literary feel his movies possess as well as their uniqueness, both of which have helped to establish Anderson as his own singular cinematic voice. Anderson remains the rarest of breeds; one of the few auteurs whose projects can count on notable actors, good-sized budgets, and healthy distribution. Still, some are firmly not in the Anderson camp with some moviegoers feeling his brand of filmmaking is too precious with regards to his visual flair and penchant for the quirky side of society. His latest effort, Asteroid City, doesn’t look to alter opinions about Anderson’s cinematic trademarks, most of which are present and accounted for this time around. However, should his detractors be willing to give him another chance, they may find an Anderson at his most experimental.
Set in the 1950s, the film takes place in the titular Asteroid City, a two-stop town where a collection of young scientists known as “stargazers” and their parents gather to attend a convention. Among them are a grieving widower (Jason Schwartzman), a beautiful movie star (Scarlett Johansson), and a crotchety grandfather (Tom Hanks), among others. Together with the town’s motel manager (Steve Carell), an Army general (Jeffrey Wright), and a renowned astronomer (Tilda Swinton), the large group find themselves sequestered together when an unexpected event takes place.
Everyone going into Asteroid City will be expecting the kind of Anderson-flavored romp that the film’s trailers have promised. There will be a collection of assorted actors playing characters that recite one sharp-witted Anderson-ism after another with a precise flow that finds the humor of whatever situation is taking place. All of this happens in another Anderson world that feels like an art installation come to life, this time with a variety of sherbet colors. The world Anderson has constructed in Asteroid City is certainly a comment on the Eisenhower era of perfection and pastels when life felt prosperous and exciting, especially in the way of technical innovation. The film’s take on nostalgia here is certainly a loving one, at least from a surface point of view. But Asteroid City finds its creator delving a bit further, exposing the absurdity of the decade and everyone’s instinct to excuse or altogether ignore the reality of the world they’re living in. Anderson takes this further by also looking at the somberness of the 1950s and the sort of wandering quality that ran underneath the picturesque façade. Whether pondering the afterlife or the idea of aliens, each of the key characters in Asteroid City finds themselves questioning the meaning of the world they live in and their own place within it.
There’s a dual side to Asteroid City not shown in any of the film’s marketing. Divided into acts of a play, the film’s main story takes occasional black-and-white breaks where we see each of the central characters as actors in a stage production of the very movie the audience is watching. Presiding over them is Schubert Green (Adrien Brody), the tortured, slightly temperamental playwright whose work has consumed him to the point that it has cost him his marriage and his sanity. It’s hard not to see Schubert as a testament to the great Rod Serling, especially in the way he revises his play while interacting with those starring in it. These scenes are actually very reminiscent of an episode of Night Gallery titled “Midnight Never Ends,” a Serling-penned tale about two strangers who insist they’ve met before though they can’t remember where. The episode ends with the reveal that both of them were creations of a blocked writer who is struggling with where to take the people he’s created. I can only assume that Anderson himself is familiar with the episode and that the inclusion of the black and white scenes represents his own Serling-like moments as an artist. Anderson has created such a bevy of memorable characters and distinct worlds, it only stands to reason that at some point he has grappled with his creativity and has reconciled such struggles enough to expose them to his audience.
From a performance standpoint, Asteroid City contains one of the most eclectic ensembles ever to populate a Wes Anderson film. Longtime familiars like Schwartzman, Wright, and Swinton show up once again to help bring Anderson’s nuanced quirkiness to life in the ways they’ve proven themselves capable of before. Elsewhere, Anderson novices like Hanks, Johannson, and Carrell find themselves instantly at home and become instantly in tune well with the filmmaker’s very specific level of comedy. Whether a stalwart in the director’s company of players, or one that is new to the fold, the performances remain firmly in the vein of Anderson’s storytelling world.
The comparisons of Asteroid City to Anderson’s last offering, The French Dispatch, are inevitable. Refreshingly, however, the only real parallel between the two films (apart from some of the aforementioned returning cast members and a typically lush aesthetic) is the way Anderson is continuing with a newfound desire to experiment even further with the intricate worlds he so lovingly creates. Here he has crafted two worlds as different as can be that are also unmistakably Wes Anderson. Both worlds offer up moments of playfulness and pensiveness. The film shows the different sides of the writer/director as a visual artist, while also giving an insight into his psyche, all of which is wrapped up in a story set during one of the most influential periods of American history. How will Asteroid City fit into the canon of Wes Anderson films? My guess is that time will be kind to it. But in 10 years, most (if not all) of Anderson’s admirers will be able to see the film as one of his most vulnerable moments as an artist and recognize Asteroid City as perhaps his most sensitive of works.
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Criterion Review: Seijun Suzuki’s BRANDED TO KILL [4K-UHD]
![Criterion Review: Seijun Suzuki’s BRANDED TO KILL [4K-UHD]](https://i0.wp.com/cinapse.co/wp-content/uploads/2023/05/image-8.png?resize=1140%2C476&ssl=1)
An alluring blend of sex and violence with a stylish and surreal sensibility
The class of tradition and modernity is often a favored theme in cinema, especially in Japan, where the countries storied history contrasts with its accelerated advances over the past few decades. The Japanese New Wave that started in the 50s saw a collective of filmmakers embrace this clash, and shake off the conventional approaches to movies and dare to deal with more controversial subject matter. Seijun Suzuki was one of the standouts, and with Branded to Kill (Koroshi no rakuin), he crafted a film so surreal and bold, that studio executives exiled him into the wilderness for nearly a decade.
The film centers around Goro Hanada (Joe Shishido) the #3 ranked killer in the Japanese underworld. A a killer for hire, one sexually charged by the smell of cooking rice. A fumbled assignment sees his fate end up in the hands of Misako (Anne Mari), who leverages her position as an object of desire to task Hanada with a series of nigh impossible jobs, each deepening their bond, plunging this hitman into greater trouble, and eventually setting him on a collision course with famed killer the No 1 (Kôji Nanbara).
A straightforward plot, but this synopsis does not convey the creative absurdity that permeates Suzuki’s film. A pulpy, subversive thriller that flits with both action and eroticism. Creative kills, discomforting closeups, and a hallucinogenic immersion in the psyche of this killer give the film an edge that counters the pop aesthetic and expressionist style the filmmaker embraces, to greater conviction as the story unfolds. Among the abstract weirdness standout scenes that in this day and age might be confused for product placement, here speak to cultural shifts, and the the cosmopolitan sheen that Tokyo had started to showcase on the world stage in this era. A minimal score from Naozumi Yamamoto draws from the loose, improvisational style and sounds of jazz and complements the stripped down, but intricately wrought aesthetic. Even with its monochrome look, Branded to Kill is infused with dynamism and depth through the assured hand and wild imagination of its director.
The Package
Criterion presents an all new 4K transfer, one derived from an original 35mm negative by the Nikkatsu Corporation and the Japan Foundation. The sheer level of detail on show is a true standout. Also impressing is the density of the image, the range of contrast and grayscale, solidity of the blacks. Criterion’s 4K showcases an image that is truly detailed, crisp, and beautifully fluid. Any film shot in black and white can show all manner of flaws and failings in a film, especially at 4K, but this image is a true showcase for the film. The release includes both 4K and Blu-ray discs, the latter containing a collection of extra features.
- Interviews with director Seijun Suzuki and assistant director Masami Kuzuu: An overall look at the production of the film, from conception, to on-set experiences, and the release of the film. This includes the backlash against the director by the studio. Packs plenty into a 13 minute runtime
- Interview with Suzuki from 1997: Recorded during a programmed retrospective of his work by the Japan Foundation. The prolific director spends around 15 min talking about the various aspects of his approach, and some key films in his output
- Interview with actor Joe Shishido: The actor gets a chance to show off his comedy chops as he also chats about his collaborations with Suzuki. The best piece of entertainment among these extras
- Original Theatrical Trailer:
- PLUS: An essay by critic and historian Tony Rayns: Within the liner booklet, which also contains information on the films new restoration
- New Cover by Eric Skillman
The Bottom Line
Seijun Suzuki rejects tradition and shakes up not just the formula of a thriller, but upends filmmaking, with a film that straddles that line between bonkers and brilliance. Branded to Kill is a a truly alluring work, blending sex and violence with a stylish and surreal sensibility. Criterion’s 4K is the perfect showcase for the visual feast on display.
Seijun Suziki’s Branded to Kill 4K-UHD is available via Criterion now
