Finally watching this after I meant to have a Mike Leigh double-feature in March but Secrets & Lies knocked me for such a loop I had to postpone this one. Marianne Jean-Baptiste is completely different here, an utterly miserable suburbanite, making life difficult for her family and everyone she comes across. “Cheerful grinning people, can’t stand them” brings to mind Harry Dean in Repo Man, or perhaps the opposite of Leigh’s Happy-Go-Lucky.

Her son Moses is quiet, bullied, an overgrown kid, gets a happy ending in the movie meeting another human who is respectful to him. Husband Curtley (David Webber of The Avengers) gets a terrible ending, throwing out his back at work then coming home to find her trying to kick him out of the house. Movie centers around a get-together with Marianne’s sister Michele Austin (also her sister in Lies?), whose two daughters have their own work problems but know how to behave pleasantly around family, unlike some people.

Bilge Ebiri in Vulture:

Hard Truths might be Leigh’s funniest film in a long time, but as always, it’s the kind of laughter that comes with an unnerving feeling that something is going horribly wrong … Even at their bleakest, Leigh’s pictures and his people explode with life. Some filmmakers make movies that feel like you could use them to reconstitute cinema if the art form ever vanished. Mike Leigh makes movies that feel like you could use them to reconstitute humanity if we ever vanished.

GdT’s third remake in a row, but excuse me, it’s less a remake of the 1930’s version than a new over-faithful adaptation of the novel. I watched at Movieland, with the new Emma and Yorgos playing next door, on their second victory lap after their smart, modern, oscar-winning semi-Frankenstein. Big physical acting from both men in this, but the superior second half following Monster Elordi can’t make up for a draggy first hour spent with Doctor Oscar. Script mostly bad, but I appreciate some del Toro touches (cool set design, the monster brought to life with a battery vest like a steampunk Iron Man). Did not appreciate the CG wolf fight, can’t recall whether the novel had so many explosions in it.

“That frog ripped me off. Little asshole, little fucker.” Awkward shithead Tim Robinson gets invited to local rocker weatherman Paul Rudd’s friend group, blows it by being too weird and desperate and needy, loses his wife Kate Mara in a sewer adventure, ends up delusional in a squad car.

Aggro Fr13ndsh1p:

Billy Woods released the best album of the year, and on the eve of his followup Mercy he surprise-releases a remix album and accompanying video. I had a very good time watching it.

In a blog first, K took a gowillog pilgrimage to Mork’s and brought back this photo:

Think I prefer Luci-Hadz’s bizarre movies where I don’t ever know what’s happening to the ones where a runaway girl hides out on a movie set, ending up as stand-in then rival to the movie’s diva star, the titular Ice Queen. Feels like they’re telling a story but not getting anywhere with it, all long pauses and people staring silently, while that approach seems to work for me if I’m as lost as the characters. Either way, Hadz has conjured another couple hours of splendid images.

Marion Cotillard (only the second time I’ve seen her in the last decade) is our Queen, Clara Pacini the runaway, August Diehl (A Hidden Life) a sinister assistant. The Ice Queen movie doubles as Clara’s childhood storytime and present fantasy world. There’s a crystal / refraction / kaleidoscope theme, the movie’s distorted ending recalling the fever dreams of Mysteries of Lisbon.

Joseph comes to visit his dying father and gets trapped in a hazy somnambulist stuttering time-loop zone. I didn’t like the devil man who destroys bird nests. I guess it’s a Bruno Schulz adaptation, but the story is less important than the Quays using their little puppets to create images nobody has ever seen before.


Ancha es Castilla, N’importe Quoi (2014, Sergio Caballero)

Extremely homemade puppetry, as in Sergio is refusing to use any construction materials that weren’t already in the house – if it didn’t say 2014 I’d swear this was a pandemic project. Divided into chapters/episodes, like the Quay (and as hard to follow), but more primitive and absurd.

All along I thought this was a remake, but it’s full of references to the events in the Bernard Rose movie, so it’s either part three or a rebooted part two (nobody remembers Farewell to the Flesh, which starred some girl from The Gate). Bookended with scenes of murderous cops, artist Morpheus (The Matrix 4) learns from Colman Domingo that he was the bonfire baby from the first movie, so he becomes the new Candyman, his girl Lysistrata (Chi-Raq) along for the ride. I guess every generation has its own Candyman, and somehow bees are involved. Victims include an art curator and his Joy Division girl, a new white lady reporter, and a bathroom full of high school girls. A real obvious movie, but so was the original, and I like this one’s look (and love the shadow puppetry) so I declare them both to be Pretty Good.

Yankee… hotel…

Masterful mashup of different ghost movie premises, dead girl is forced to Monsters Inc before she Back to the Futures, joins a misfit team of has-beens and together they thrive.

After Alone, why not watch another girl get kidnapped by a serial killer and try to escape her fate. This time things are more complicated – we see other victims, there’s an attempted rescue, and the maniac is a boater who feeds captured surfers to sharks while filming them on VHS.

Surfer Zephyr (of Southbound) has a lovely time with new friend Moses, then she drives to the beach, gets kidnapped by a maniac and locked on his boat with fellow victim Heather. Really Good Guy Moses keeps searching for her, connects the clues, and arrives only to be kidnapped himself, then Z chews off her own thumb to escape from the cuffs Saw-style. Byrne is two for two, now I’ve gotta catch The Loved Ones. Everyone else who watches this already knows who villain Jai Courtney is – I’ve only seen him in Edward Furlong cosplay as a lead-in to Yoga Hosers.