by ·Comments Off on Allensworth (2022, James Benning)

Allensworth was “the first self-administered African-American municipality in California.” Each shot represents a month, per title cards – it’s mostly shots of structures that date from the era. Static scenes broken up by trains (I counted three, one of them visible), or by Nina Simone (June) or Leadbelly (November) songs,

Lawrence Garcia:

In the post-film Q&A Benning remarked that with this film, he simply wanted to get people interested in this town … Much more revealing was his stated interest in the fact that, since Allensworth collapsed within a decade of its founding, we are seeing not original buildings but reconstructions built when the town was memorialized as a state park in 1974.

I’ve been reading Erika Balsom’s Ten Skies, and instead of watching the degraded youtube rip of that film (which the book tolerates, if not endorses) I watched a couple of nicer video releases.

Balsom on Benning:

Those familiar mostly with the filmmaker’s most recent output will venture that his is a cinema concerned above all with the investigation of form and the contemplation of beauty. Such perspectives are not entirely wrong – L. Cohen (2017), for instance, is a gorgeous 45-minute single-shot observation of a solar eclipse – but they are certainly incomplete. From his earliest works in the seventies, Benning has explored histories of settlement, the problem of political community, and the various ways that human actions mark the land in the United States. Probe his entirely sui generis filmography and you will find personal chronicles, accounts of murder, indictments of whiteness, and an attention to the particularities of the Midwest. We are, in other words, a very long way from formalism.

by ·Comments Off on The Sweet East (2023, Sean Price Williams)

Talia “no relation” Ryder slips away from a school trip to DC and goes on adventures. Friendly professor Simon Rex offers her a place to stay and she wakes up under a swastika comforter. I think they’re watching the DW Griffith Edgar Allen Poe movie? She gets work on a film shoot, and the next guy to help out (Rish Shah) hides her in a barn so his gun-cult brother doesn’t find out. Ensuing gunfight kills film shoot’s star (Coppola’s Elvis), oops. Watched this after reading Pinkerton’s Bombast issue 2, but first I should’ve watched Hotel des invalides, then a Luc Moullet movie or two (maybe Origins of a Meal and Essai d’ouverture).

Charles Bramesco in LWLies:

A vessel for the views and experiences of those around her, she’s defined by her passivity and vacuity in her tendency to repeat the last thing she heard to the next person she meets. She sits and listens until the vibes sour, then simply walks away.

Adam Nayman’s is the only review I’ve seen to mention The Scary of 61st (and I didn’t even realize one of its lead actors had a cameo in this).

Conceptually, The Sweet East is as rigorously digressive as its author’s (best) film criticism, stringing together relevant references to a host of American iconoclasts and styling each of Lillian’s (mis)adventures as exercises in projection wherein her acquaintances — be they crusty vegan “artivists,” sad-sack domestic terrorists, trendy independent filmmakers (Jeremy O. Harris and Ayo Edebiri), It Boy movie stars (Jacob Elordi), or Butthole Surfers (a quick visit by Gibby Haynes) — treat the pretty, vacant interloper as a blank canvas for their artistic ambitions and/or sexual desires (and, given the general influence of Lolita, these things are usually implied to be one and the same).

by ·Comments Off on The Fall Guy (2024, David Leitch)

A good-time action-comedy that I could see myself watching a few more times (if not as many times as The Nice Guys) starring our most charismatic action-comedy lead Ryan Gosling as a stunt guy who got injured then set up by his boss (Aaron T-J of Bullet Train and Bad Godzilla) and has to team with his director/ex Emily Blunt (of Edge of Tomorrow, which it’s past time to rewatch) and stunt coordinator Winston Duke (Us, ditto) to clear his name and stop the real criminals by harnessing all their movie-stunt skills and trickery.

by ·Comments Off on She Is Conann (2023, Bertrand Mandico)

Elina Löwensohn plays a dog in this one.

Some kind of framing story gives an excuse to recount Conan the Barbarian’s life.

I prepared for this, but not enough.

Each time Conann ages into a new actor, she kills her previous self.

I think maybe Ultra Lux kills everyone at the end?

The Mandico Connected Universe continues to pay great rewards.

She’s giving Toby Dammit vibes:

by ·Comments Off on Chime (2024, Kiyoshi Kurosawa)

I love 45 minute movies, make more please. This is peak creepy K.Kurosawa. In my current state of mind the knife murders felt pretty normal, the real horror was when chef Mutsuo Yoshioka (who had small parts in Foreboding and Onoda) embarrassingly blew a job interview. I can’t tell if his wife (Tomoko Tabata of The Hidden Blade) is also affected or if she’s just obsessively Japanese. After the chef’s student commits suicide in class, the chef kills another student (Takashi Shimizu, whose previous movie Sana was also a horror about people hearing a weird sound). Comes to no real conclusion as to what is happening or why. Made with a new DP and Hamaguchi’s editor.

Adam Nayman in Film Comment:

A sudden act of violence that passes the narrative baton from Tashiro to his middle-aged instructor Takuji is staged with the same slow, inexorable inexplicability as the murders in Cure (Kurosawa doesn’t so much avoid jump scares as invert their affect; his set pieces are drenched in the numb, hypnotic dread of sleep paralysis). In lieu of a sociopathic Dr. Mesmer figure puppet-mastering the action, Chime dispenses with an antagonist — and a hero — altogether, and simply offers glimpses at a society in the throes of some profound, collective malfunction. To invert the title of a film by one of Kurosawa’s former students, the film unfolds in a space where evil does, indeed, exist.

by ·Comments Off on Love Lies Bleeding (2024, Rose Glass)

Starts out full of small-town problems: Kristen Stewart’s sister Jena Malone is being beaten by mustache husband Dave Franco who’s been screwing homeless bodybuilder Katy O’Brien who just applied for a job at the husband’s workplace, a gun range run by Ed Harris, who also smuggles guns into Mexico. Kristen falls for Katy, gets her into steroids, and Katy goes to Dave’s house and hella kills him in a roid rage, justifying the Clint Mansell soundtrack.

I was thinking about Lost Highway‘s domestic fatal head injury when I read Michael Sicinski making other Lynchian connections, and giving it up for:

Glass’ genuine feel for neo-noir as a collision course of tangled motivations, some of which the characters themselves don’t entirely understand. It’s fairly easy to make films about duplicity, where people lie and cheat and manipulate one another. It’s much harder to produce figures so damaged that they essentially sabotage themselves, failing to really grasp why everything has gone so terribly wrong.

by ·Comments Off on The Beast (2023, Bertrand Bonello)

A new Bonello is one of the few things to get me into theaters this year (thank u Movieland for carding me twice before I was allowed to watch this). No real crowd for a French film on a nice weekend, but it’s still nice when the movies are big and loud. I guess we’ll never get to see Coma, huh?

Lea Seydoux meets George MacKay (star of 1917, I don’t remember him from Marrowbone) across three time periods, which are only slightly cross-cut, and only mildly bleed into each other due to a mind-erasing procedure in a robot Under the Skin room in the future-set sequence. In order to get decent jobs, people need to have their personalities (and latent memories of past lives) psychically purged – she aborts the procedure, then is horrified to learn that he went through with it. Previously she was a greenscreen actress (the movie opens with this scene, out of order, so it can be bookended with her Laura Palmer The Return screams) who gets stalked and killed by incel George. Before that they were seeing each other in secret before drowning together when her husband’s doll factory caught fire. So it’s got some of my least-favorite storylines (murderous rightwing youtuber, emotionless dystopian AI future), put together in a compellingly strange way, and with delicious details (present-day Lea maliciously smashing a ming vase and blaming the earthquake, plagued by World of Tomorrow-caliber Trash Humpers popup ads on her laptop).

Based on a Henry James story, and weirdly not the only 2023 French adaptation of this story to have scenes set in a nightclub. There’s also a Delphine Seyrig version directed by a guy that I just learned this morning is a sex creep, and a semi-adaptation by Truffaut as The Green Room.

Brendan Boyle found different Twin Peaks connections:

In the film’s best moments, particularly the one that closes the 2014 section and pays off the use of Louis as threat, her ability to play fear and desire together thoroughly redeem any of Bonello’s shortcomings — shortcomings that vanish when real suspense takes over. The bravura direction that climaxes Gabrielle’s house-sitting stay in Los Angeles brings her together with Louis once more in a sequence that unites the awful violence of Nocturama’s conclusion with the most elliptical aspects of Lynch’s filmmaking and the repressed, heart-stopping romanticism of Wharton and James. Here, MacKay plays the hateful, homicidal Louis as suddenly unsure of himself, as if recalling his own past and future identities — a chivalric archetype tragically twisted by his own shortsightedness into an instrument of calamity, like the doppelgängers of Kyle MacLachlan’s Agent Cooper in Twin Peaks: The Return.

And Michael Sicinski helpfully reminds me that despite the rave reviews I’m reading now, in the moment I was antsy and annoyed over the second half of the movie (2014/2044).

The first half of Bonello’s film was electrifying because it postulated something I’d never considered possible: What if Leos Carax’s Holy Motors, instead of being a mind-bending one-off, was actually the beginning of a whole new way of conceiving narrative cinema?
…
Considering where this film begins, [the 2014 section] feels like a copout: a recognizably Lynchian thriller … It’s still strange, sure, but it is recognizably a movie, which is disappointing in this context. Maybe this was Bonello’s intention, to display our shared present as the shallowest, least compelling timeline.

by ·Comments Off on Keeping Secrets Will Destroy You (2023, Ryan Daly & Will Oldham)

A feature-length music video for the latest Bonnie Prince Billy album, made of scanned 16mm film, much of it zoomed out so we can see the sprocket holes and optical soundtrack. Some real on-the-nose footage selections – guess what’s onscreen during the songs about types of trees. I was waiting to see what he got for “Satan did a dance with me and I danced right along,” and it didn’t disappoint. I liked the fuzzy neon street scenes of “Blood of the Wine.” If I was allowed to take screenshots from streaming, I would’ve picked the woman covered in pigeons during “Kentucky is Water.” “Queens of Sorrow” MVP, juxtaposing commercial imagery of dolls with women’s-rights marches. The Bonnie Man makes the briefest in-person appearance. I’ll bet this was fun to edit. It’s very inessential as cinema, but if they want to start putting entire BPB albums on Criterion Channel that’s alright with me. Do I Made a Place next.

by ·Comments Off on Hundreds of Beavers (2022, Mike Cheslik)

Oh look, someone went to Wisconsin with a hefty prop budget and a thick book of storyboards, and made a movie just for me. The tagline “possibly thousands” is killing me…