Matty

Just as the “resigned” Juliette Binoche entices Jeremy Irons to commit adultery, Louis Malle's penultimate film encourages a psychoanalytical reading. On the face of it, this is a film about a banal love triangle. One woman, two men. However, the woman is seeking a replacement for her brother and the men are a father and his son. It is an inversion of the Oedipus myth from the perspective of a husband (ego) whose mistress (id) helps him to rediscover the officially confirmed bond (superego) of suppressed desires. When, fully controlled by his instincts, he asks his new acquaintance, “Who are you, really?”, he attempts to push away some of the more prominent dark force that envelopes him. After years of socially regulated existence, he rediscovers himself, is fascinated, does not understand and loses control. Their austerely furnished, monochromatic meeting place serves as a dream space. Beyond the binding institution, outside of oppressive reality. The gentle work with symbols (blood – spilled wine) does not draw attention away from the ambiguously depicted characters, the man who loses control and the femme fatale who gains control (transforming herself from an object into a personality, thus at the same time ceasing to be desirable for her lover). Simultaneously victims and villains, both superbly portrayed. The slightly rushed introduction is completely redeemed by its simplicity and the epilogue that says it all: reality caught up with him, only idealised memories remain. 90%

I really don’t know if Birds of Prey wants to be a "sharp, even controversial film” or anything else, but I enjoyed it for what it really is – a fresh, uncomplicated, deliberately trashy-in-places, playfully over-the-top and infantile post-breakup action comedy with an intentionally chaotic narrative that, like the main protagonist, gradually settles down and becomes more focused. Girl power is not so obviously on display as in Wonder Woman or certain Marvel movies (e.g. the painfully forced and TERRIBLY unnecessary “don’t say that name” scene in Avengers: Endgame). Feminism is a natural part of the fictional world. All of the men are malicious betrayers or dangerous, violent swine (which, however, does not mean that the heroines are saintly, not even a little – they are imperfect, but they don’t care) and we want them to die a horrible death. This film is based more on female friendship than on the antagonism between Harley Quinn and Sionis, which in the end is rather just a MacGuffin contributing to “female bonding”, an obstacle preventing the protagonist from enjoying an egg sandwich or watching Tweety in peace. This is where Birds of Prey differs from standard comics-based films, where a villain must be eliminated in order for the world to be saved. I surely would not mind if there was greater anarchy and more derisive mockery of all of the macho comic-book universes in which women serve merely as sidekicks, baddies and ornaments in guy adventures, but Birds of Prey is too radically feminist (er, lol) for some viewers, so for now it’s perhaps not possible to expect more from a major-studio genre film. 75%

Charade is film in which things are not what they seem to be (a dangerous-looking pistol may be water gun) and which itself is never what it appears to be for long. The protagonists of this romantic comedy about the battle of the sexes find themselves in the world of a spy thriller and, in addition to suggestive, caustic remarks, they exchange top-secret information, due to which people die and annoying children are kidnapped. Cary Grant comfortably occupies the role of a sharp dresser who knows his away around in the world of crime and essentially just reprises his collaboration with Hitchcock (references to North by Northwest, To Catch a Thief and their other films). Meanwhile, Audrey Hepburn, as if on a treadmill, changes dresses from Givenchy and attempts, at least a little, to step out of the pigeonhole in which she is placed as a naïve and fragile beauty who needs a man to save her life or explain to her that the CIA is not actually an airline. Previously, however, women only rarely infiltrated the “guy” adventure genre in a different kind of lead roles. The scenes featuring both stars work particularly due to the charisma and grace of each of them and, inexplicably, not because of any coherence, let alone the convincingness of their romantic relationship (which is not convincing at all; on the contrary, it gives the impression of being rather forced). Conversely, their mismatched acting styles and large, almost thirty-year age difference well serve the (tonal) variability of the film, which refuses to stay in one place and constantly and ingeniously leads us away from the concept and leaves us in a state of doubt with respect to the characters and their true intentions. Based on the needs of the narrative and depending on whether we are supposed to be amused or in suspense, at times we fumble around just like the main protagonist and at other times we are a step ahead. Particularly in this toying with the audience, this is a Hitchcock film. However, Donen approaches espionage intrigues in a more frivolous manner and plays more with colours. It’s a shame that he didn’t make more comedic thrillers, as his balancing on the tightrope between the two genres is admirably proficient, clever and entertaining. 85%

“Business is a ruthless business.” Charlie Chaplin is nearly as bold here as he was with The Great Dictator seven years earlier. He again takes an actual murderer as his model, but this time transforms him into a loving husband who pursues a good deed through his murderous affairs. He does not go so far as to advocate murder in certain circumstances (which the author of the story, Orson Welles, may possibly have done), but even that minor contradiction which he brings to this black-and-white theme is pleasing. Unsurprisingly, the greatest asset is Chaplin himself in his role of a lovable, amoral criminal. For the casualness with which he interspersed suggestive one-liners with good old slapstick, I guilty wished that he still had someone to murder. With its “murder with a smile” approach, Monsieur Verdoux has something in common with Arsenic and Old Lace, though the latter is tighter and brisker. Unlike Capra, however, Chaplin did not make a mere madcap comedy. Therefore, it is a pity that he did not give the same care to the role of the family (Verdoux’s main motivation), which he somehow forgets about, as he did to incorporating the social subtext. 80%

The unusual informational density of the prologue gives the impression that The Talk of the Town did not begin in medias res, but rather after everything had already happened. Besides the ongoing events of work, nearly half of the footage consists in questions pertaining to events of the past, summarised in the introduction without any explanation of the context. Director Georges Stevens does not make it easy for us to get into the story. He does not provide a pause in order to clarify everything that has happened by means of an explanatory monologue or flashback. (By postponing the moment of revelation, which actually never happens, we are constantly held in a state of suspense, which is also helped by the casting of Cary Grant, whose unreadability was used masterfully by Hitchcock in Suspicion a year prior). Quite the contrary – it adds to the twists and involves new characters in the story, which reaches an absurd dimension in a scene where perhaps half of the city meets in a single room. Only then comes clarification and the narrative is more or less limited to two men and one woman until the end. The female character in particular gives a significant comedic touch to the film, which began as a crime thriller. The fact that the stereotype of a scatter-brained and dependent woman is intentionally fulfilled in order to divert attention away from the presence of a man in hiding is humorous (and subversive). It also remains less estimable for the rest of the film, though her chaotic manner is motivated by the requirement of the narrative, which someone has to keep going. The frantic screwball pace slows only in the final third of the film, which gives more space to the storyline focused on the court proceedings and to the professor. The shots are longer, the alternating of angles and lengths of shots less frequent, i.e. in accordance with the nature of the topics addressed and the necessity of order in life. The form of The Talk of the Town is essentially determined by the nature of the two potential fiancés of the female lead, one level-headed and one spontaneous. Weaving between two genres allows Stevens to constantly circumvent our expectations, leaving them unfulfilled, as we do not know with any certainty in which genre to place the film. The result brings to mind two films (self-effacing and melodramatically serious) squeezed into each other. That is remarkable yet, at the same time, unconvincing and not fully satisfying in any genre. 75%

Fat Front is a wonderfully (body) positive time-lapse documentary about four young women from Denmark, Norway and Sweden who have accepted their bodies (or are on the right path to acceptance) and have decided to use them as their main weapons in fighting against fat shaming and objectification of (female) bodies. Like its main characters, the film does not evaluate or judge anyone and it certainly does not celebrate being overweight. If you feel comfortable with your weight, then it’s okay to be fat (an adjective to which the women in the film want to return its neutral meaning, so that it is not derogatory, but rather descriptive of a characteristic – just as when we say that someone is tall). While it is true that being fat is not healthy, spending a lifetime rejecting oneself and escaping into isolation because you want to avoid judgmental/disgusted looks from others is no better. This mainly involves people not being stigmatised and having to feel bad just because they do not conform to the contemporary, historically varying ideal of beauty (see, for example, the plump bodies in Baroque paintings). Though individual self-acceptance is fine, disdain for fat people, which creates numerous material and mental barriers (for example, the perception of a fat person primarily through the prism of his/her weight rather than character), is based on the social mindset, which takes a long time to change. Thanks to the number of situations depicted, the documentary makes it possible to understand in greater depth the struggles faced by overweight people, to see the world through their eyes and not to view them from the outside as victims deserving compassion. The film offers a history of the Fat Underground movement, childhood sexual harassment (leading to a major disturbance of one’s relationship to his/her own body), regret for wasting many years of one’s life waiting to lose weight and to be able to live a “normal” life, the ambivalent role of social networks, which offer, in addition to verbal bullying, a sense of acceptance by the broader community ... there are a lot of things to unpack, perhaps too many to cover in ninety minutes, but that is understandable in the case of a film that addresses such a multifaceted theme (or rather as one of the first to approach it without the usual clichés), and it’s a great thing that it does. 80%

In its reconstruction of 19th-century life and visual style of old films, The Lighthouse is an unprecedented curiosity made with great care and, in one view, makes perhaps as much sense (and is thus as carelessly blind) as a drunken sailor who has read Moby Dick and a few paragraphs of Greek mythology (particularly the story of Prometheus) and psychoanalysis (you reach the id only after pacification of the controlling superego). The plot stands on water, the relationship between the two men on alcohol. Instead of drama or any character development, there is only the building of an atmosphere which, in the end, leads to nowhere and serves no purpose; it is not legitimised by any unifying theme to which the film would adhere. It simply just is. The vagueness, eccentricity and signs of cognisance of the film’s pulpiness give the impression of being an intentional act on the part of the screenwriter, an attempt to sell a simple, self-regarding horror story to dramaturgs of A-list festivals. When everyone finds something in a film, that does not necessarily mean that there is actually something to be found in it. Due to the degree to which it depends on its two actors and sound effects, I would rather see The Lighthouse in the form of an absurdist stage play in which the riveting acting performances could overcome the terrible repetitiveness, predictableness and utter lack of flow. 55%

Director Bing Liu spent twelve years filming two of his friends from the skateboarding community as they grew up and attempted to come to grips with roles for which they were not prepared. For Zack, a life test comes in the form of the birth of his son. Keire, six years younger, is forced to take on a more responsible attitude following the death of his father. In parallel with the trajectories of their lives, we see the transformation of their relationship with the filmmaker, whose own family history has an impact on the shooting process. Despite the many intoxicating intermezzos in which the protagonists indulge in skateboarding, this bumpy ride is not a film about skateboarding, but primarily about the effort to overcome economic and social constraints and to enter adulthood as a self-confident and independent person who will not be limited by his class, family relationships or race. Minding the Gap is an intimate, intelligently constructed film that retains an element of lightness despite the gravity of the topics that it addresses. 90%

Not long after Greta Gerwig, another American actress associated with mumblecore, Olivia Wilde, demonstrated her directorial talent. In their debuts, which were patterned on films in which they had previously acted, both directors offer a humorous, sincere and casual look at a girl’s coming of age. While Gerwig's Lady Bird was an unpretentious, unsentimental indie comedy, Booksmart offers a less introspective and more stylised, though equally truthful portrayal of the uncertainty and concerns of women at the threshold of adulthood. At the same time, this humorous, clever, fresh and confidently directed generational film is a timeless indictment of pigeonholes and pigeonholing that is informed by, among other things, earlier high-school comedies. 85%

This outwardly realistic conversational drama/gay romance about a chance encounter of two foreigners is gradually “coloured” as a narratively ambitious story about the spiralling passage of time and people condemned to repeat the same mistakes in their relationships. Fin de siglo is a very well-balanced film that works at the “basic” walk-and-talk level thanks to its natural actors, unforced dialogue and consistent style of long, uninterrupted shots in authentic Barcelona locations. It is thought-provoking, compelling and open to various readings. 80%