A gem of a movie, narrow in scope but enlarged by the great acting of Anthony Hopkins and Olivia Colman. By confining the set to, basically, two rooms and a hallway, we were forced into the mind of the father, struggling absent-mindedly with dementia. The film is mercifully short, as we get the picture early on and know there won’t be a happy ending, just the chance to think about aging and elder care, for our loved ones and ourselves.
A retrograde anti-propaganda film, if such there be, taking down Soviet Communism for its top-down bureaucracy that creates inequality, inertia, oppression and distrust. Filmed in black-and-white and recalling Russian cinema of the late ’50s (The Cranes Are Flying, Ballad of A Soldier, etc.), Andrei Konchalovsky’s take on a 1962 workers’ strike that was brutally suppressed is cleverly told through the story of a committed Party member who is, conflictedly, a mother. If the plot was an eery parallel of Quo Vadis, Aida?, the depiction of the USSR echoed the mini-series Chernobyl.
This was a charming journey inside a senior citizens center in Chile, reminiscent of Laura Gabbert’s Sunset Story but with less plot. In fact, what plot there was seemed to be a set-up: I don’t believe there was a client concerned that her mother was being mistreated; I think that was a ruse to get this particular film made. Would that disqualify it as a “documentary”? Apparently not, as it is Oscar-nominated in that category. Whether he was in on the ruse or not (and I think “not”), Sergio the Mole was such an ingenuous charmer with such a positive impact on the seniors, almost all female, that you just felt good watching the film. And the well-run center itself was the diametric opposite of what we saw in I Care A Lot. This was about as conflict-free as a film could be.
While this was more effective as a romance than an anti-bullying message film, what most sticks in mind is the brutal picture of life in China for high-school seniors. Made in Hong Kong in 2019 (but up for an Academy Award this year), could it have been intended as a critique of mainland education, which seemed to consist solely of uniform-wearing, slogan-spouting, exam-cramming, when not being harassed by uneducated, brutal thugs. The slowly growing bond of the two young leads gave us plenty to care about, while the Mean Girl villains played a role consistent across all cultures. The legal result made little sense to our American experience; but, as we’re continually learning with Spiral, human nature may be universal but judicial systems aren’t.
A baffling subject, at least for this non-Scandinavian: drinking alcohol, on the job and eventually to excess. Rather than condemn the practice, the movie seemed to show that it helped some, while killing others. So maybe the subject was really about mid-life (turning 40) crisis, or male bonding, with the booze as catalyst, or backdrop. Mads Mikkelsen starred, and I would’ve been less surprised had he received an Oscar nomination rather than director Thomas Vinterberg. It was certainly well done, but I still don’t know how I was supposed to feel (like Sound of Metal in that way).
Not my cup of tea. There was a transition from home-video clips of a summer camp for handicapped teens to the fight for civil rights of the disabled leading to the ADA, but I was asleep and missed it.
A true story about the Serbs’ 1995 massacre of Bosnians in Srebenica is told in sidelong fashion by focusing, instead, on the motherly desperation of Aida, a Bosnian translator working for the UN in its “safe haven,” to protect her husband and two sons. Jasna Duricic is sensational as the competent and fiercely determined translator, giving the film its documentary look of real people, by the thousands, including other leads who look just like their characters’ pictures on Wikipedia. What I didn’t learn about the Balkan War in this 1:45 I picked up in Internet research I felt I needed immediately following, which is the true compliment to the power of this film. My only quibble: director Jasmila Zbanic put in one or two too many vain entreaties by Aida to the feckless Dutch forces. We had gotten the point, and it was devastating.
It’s hard to “rate” a beautifully made film on the end of the world as we know it, just as it is hard to watch it. I don’t need to be reminded what humans have done to climate, habitat and the cause of biodiversity in the last 70 years, but Attenborough’s personal testimony, measured and even understated, bears witnessing. By drawing on the films he has made in Africa, in the Arctic, in the oceans, he reminds us of the treasures we took for granted and are rapidly losing. To end on a message of hope he lists in simple terms the steps we can take to reverse disaster, but their apparent, to me, impossibility is further cause for depression. All we need do is 1. stop population growth; 2. stop all deforestation; 3. change our diet to plant-based proteins; 4. create fishing-free zones in the oceans; 5. reduce agricultural lands while increasing output (a la the Dutch); 6. change energy production from fossil fuels to renewable sources; 7. and other items I’ve forgotten. And who will do this, I ask one night. Then the next I watch Quo Vadis, Aida?
A workmanlike talkumentary about the Knoedler Gallery’s sale of 60 forged AbEx paintings, in which all sides are presented but only one is credible. There was nothing here I hadn’t read in ArtNews, but it was interesting to see the characters in person, especially gallerist Ann Freedman, whose icy but unconvincing resolve that she wasn’t to blame left much for the viewer to ponder. Michael Hammer’s role was barely touched on–a hole in the film–but what was there was pretty bad. I could have used more about the art itself, the lack of technical scrutiny of the works, and the role of the consulting experts. In short, this was more a once-over introduction to the subject than a probing investigation.
This is either (1) a biting critique of sex-hungry men (i.e., all men) who take advantage of defenseless women and the women who enable them; and/or (2) a horror film about a psychopath who seeks revenge on all around her through a series of impossible actions. The climax is so implausible that you realize you’d better not think too much about what has come before. On the plus side, the film is a showcase for Carey Mulligan and her ten-megawatt smile, which makes her unlikely character relatable in a way that Rosamund Pike’s in I Care A Lot never approaches.
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