This film was notable enough to attract the attention of international critics and it seems that the directorial duo of Julien Maury and Alexandre Bustillo have established a reputation for themselves in the horror genre. That’s enough for me to give this a chance but I don’t think it was worth it. The plot hook of clueless youths breaking into a haunted house is standard and while there is some startling imagery and interesting backstory, it’s barely coherent. Worst of all, there doesn’t seem to be any larger theme and not much point to the film at all.
This was a low-budget art house film that did unexpectedly well at China’s box office and then seems to have been quietly censored. There was no official announcement but it was simply removed from cinemas and streaming services. On the face of it, there’s nothing in this very old-fashioned story of poor peasants in Gansu province that seems objectionable. Yet the abject poverty that it asserts continues to exist in the present day probably doesn’t accord with the Communist Party’s vision for China and its depiction of how government measures to alleviate poverty are instead often subverted for the benefit of the well-to-do probably doesn’t help. It’s too traditional and straightforward for me to really like but there’s something to be said about its plain simplicity.
As promised, I’m beginning my tour of the Studio Ghibli classics and this one was picked simply because it’s available on Netflix. My wife commented that she didn’t really like this when she first watched it. It was of course ridiculously successful and critically acclaimed, yet it is in essence one long, dream-like adventure in a fantasy world of pure imagination. The art and the magical world it conjures into being are outstanding and it’s amazing how the film keeps surprising you with every new character and scene. Still, as with all dream sequences, you eventually start to wonder whether any of this matters and what it all means. I found the themes of being kind and admonishing against greed and waste to be fairly light and Hayao Miyazaki keeps repeating the same tropes, even if he arguably pulled it off best here.
Jordan Peele’s latest had much more of a mixed reception among critics and now that I’ve seen it, it’s obvious how much of a mixed bag it is. It’s some kind of horror science-fiction film with a Western aesthetic and is full of references to Hollywood. In fact, there are so many references that I’m sure I missed most of them. Peele does make it all work, somehow, and I found myself thoroughly entertained. I can’t even imagine what kind of a twisted mind he has to put this particular combination of elements together. The result is fascinating to contemplate but not something I personally like very much.
This Catalan film has such a strong sense of place that it almost feels like it’s cheating. It features scenic shots of a beautiful farm, a cast of characters that spans multiple generations of the same family, and is absolutely crammed with cultural details specific to the region of Alcarràs. In short, it’s a prime exemplar of my previously stated dictum that films should be as local as possible. It can feel a little underwhelming given that there are no great insights on offer here. It’s all about showing what daily life is like to the farmers of the region and what their contemporary concerns but that’s just how I like it.
With its title, this sounds like it should be a truly terrifying horror film but it’s really a samurai drama. What’s more, it begins with plenty of action, a depiction of the real Heiji rebellion 1160, yet that only serves as a preamble to the real plot. In fact this is actually a story about a samurai who falls in love with a woman and becomes obsessed with her to an unhealthy extent. This is a surprisingly colorful and good looking film. I don’t care for how terribly the Lady Kesa is treated here, but I have to concede that it does portray the demands of honor of that period in an artistically pleasing manner.
As to this summer’s choice between Oppenheimer and Barbie, I’m definitely in the latter camp. Even disregarding how grueling it would be to watch a three hour biopic in the cinema, I think this is obviously the richer and more artistically interesting of the two films. Indeed, director Greta Gerwig delivers not only an eye-searingly striking visual fest, but a powerful social commentary that encompasses the themes of gender relations, existentialism and even fits in a critique of Mattel itself. I’m not sure how much most people who watching this only due to the Barbie brand name are getting out of this, but to me, this is a very adult, very serious film.
