The Family Name (2022)

Directed by Sönke Wortmann

Der Nachname is a German family satire and the sequel to Der Vorname (The Given Name). 

Dorothea König neé Böttcher, who also narrates the movie (Iris Berben) invites her two adult children Thomas (Florian David Fitz) and Elisabeth (Caroline Peters) and their respective spouses to their family house on Lanzarote (Spain), where she now lives with her new partner René (Justus von Dohnányi), who also happens to be her adoptive son (main conflict of the first movie). As the family convenes at the house, Dorothea and René break the news that they secretly got married and that worst of all - she changed her family name (I just … this non-conflict patriarchal bullshit broke me). Family hijinks ensue.

Der Nachname is average in every way imaginable:

✅Typical Sönke Wortmann movie, preferring the same cast of actors and characters every single time (the pedantic German, the sexist/homophobic/manly man German, the frustrated intellectual German wife, etc.)

✅Typical vacation comedy with stunning views of the island 

✅Typical family satire with the family being broken beyond repair by decades-long miscommunication 

✅Typical German comedy which just can’t exist without at least one dick and/or Viagra joke

But in all its average glory, there are some redeeming qualities. The performances are all very good, as expected from this cast, albeit without any stand-outs. Some jokes land, but most of them fall flat, although the kids behind me in the theater seemed to have a great deal of fun, so what do I know?

The homophobia/transphobia/sexism bullshit is dialed way down (in comparison to the first movie and other Wortmann fare) and also countered at every point, which is a big achievement for a German comedy (a very low bar). Finally, some interactions between various family members are heart-felt leading into a heart-warming and sincere message at the end of the movie.

All in all, Der Nachname is a mostly harmless Arrested Development pastiche with a nice message at the end

She Said (2022)

Directed by Maria Schrader

She Said tells the story of the investigative piece on Harvey Weinstein’s decades-long sexual abuse of his female co-workers, written by Megan Twohey (Carey Mulligan) and Jodi Kantor (Zoe Kazan) for the New York Times. After publication more and more women came forward to accuse H.W. of sexual misconduct, which expanded into the MeToo-movement, giving women a safe space to come forward with their own stories of abuse and assault.

Schrader took on an immense responsibility with this project which she fulfilled admirably. From the get-go the movie focuses exclusively on the experience of the women whose voices were suppressed by intimidation, NDAs and out-of-court settlements. Although the source material offers plenty of scandalous even sleazy details, the movie never slips into exploitation. The more harrowing are the victims’ own spoken recollections of the events, which they are free to tell in their own way without leading questions or demands for more details.

H.W. is a constant looming threat throughout the movie that no-one dares to go against and who has to be exposed, before he does more harm. And so Twohey and Kantor meticulously deconstruct the system of silence and abuse he built over the years which protected him and abusers like him, one phone call and witness at time. 

The atmosphere is tense but controlled, thanks to the subdued score (Nicholas Brittel) and tight editing (Hansjörg Weißbrich). The chemistry between the editorial staff and especially the two leads is palpable and the actresses who play H.W. 's victims do so with delicate restraint. Some of them even play themselves which adds a layer of credibility to the movie and I admire them deeply for doing so.

All in all, She Said is a great movie about a momentous cultural and historical milestone. How speaking truth to power is only possible, when there is strength in numbers and by deconstructing the abusive systems that uphold and protect this power in the first place.

Dark Satellites (2022)

Directed by Thomas Stuber

Dark Satellites consists of three individual stories, all of which are told from the perspective of a main character finding some reprieve from their loneliness with another person.

The first two are about a security guard falling for a young Ukrainian refugee and a diner owner yearning for his neighbor, a married Muslim woman. Both of the female characters are extremely infantilized. They talk in broken sentences, giggle like children, stomp their feet or shake their head when they can’t express themselves with their limited vocabulary. They don’t have any agency or motives of their own, only serving to aid their male counterparts in their search for intimacy, love or understanding. Which leads to uncomfortable power dynamics and, frankly, exploitation disguised as romance. 

The third story is about two middle-aged women falling in love and is the least offensive of the three. There is still a stark contrast between the male and the female, making use of the tired butch and femme lesbian cliché, but at least the femme is allowed to behave like an adult, though still maintaining a toddler-like speech pattern. Their story is as close to a mutual happy ending as can be, but still falls flat.

The eponymous satellites refer to the periphery: cleaners, security guards, people behind the counter, refugees. But we unfortunately look at them from the perspective of an intellectual well to do director (and it shows). The movie revels in destitution, taking place in perpetual dusk and night, in depressing highrises and refugee camps, where people menacingly mumble in foreign languages. The atmosphere is depressing and foreboding, as it shows the main characters emerging from barely lit streets and empty train stations.

Although the director sets out to show that there is companionship in the unlikeliest of places (and by “unlikeliest” he means the poors), he fails. The masculine and the feminine are delineated so clearly and starkly that there can never be compassion between the two. Both remain alone, maintaining only the illusion of togetherness, as one serves the needs of the other without any mutual respect or understanding.

Pinocchio (2022)

Directed by Guillermo del Toro

Gepetto, a woodcarver, (David Bradley) is grief stricken after losing his son Carlo (Gregory Mann) in an air raid on their village. After years of debilitating grief and a bout of alcoholism, Gepetto still wants his son back and decides to take matters into his own hands and make a new Carlo out of the pine that has grown on his grave. To his astonishment, the puppet he has barely finished comes to life and wreaks havoc on his life and heart.

The story of Pinocchio is well-known and doesn’t really need reiterating. However, del Toro and Patrick McHale updated the well-worn morality tale to great effect. By setting their version of the story in 1930-ies fascist Italy, they very astutely point out that it is not revelries, alcohol or fun that corrupt young minds, as in the original, but far more sinister forces that are mostly out of their control. There is a far greater focus on how parents try and fail to protect their children and how a child’s love is pure and powerful and can be used and abused by the adults around them. The movie also tackles themes of loss, love and what it means to be alive. 

The stop-motion animation is marvelous and the rich textured environments as well as the peculiar character models add to a whimsical dark atmosphere reminiscent of such greats as Coraline or Nightmare Before Christmas. The music by Alexandre Desplat makes everything even more magical, but I wasn’t a fan of the original songs and don’t understand why the movie had to be a musical. The voice cast gives a great performance, as they bring the whimsical characters to life.

This adaptation of Pinocchio sheds the puritanical message of the original, for a much broader liberal one and vastly improves a tired story in the process.

Bardo (2022)

Directed by Alejandro G. Iñárritu

Silverio Gama (Daniel Giménez Cacho), a renowned Mexican investigative journalist and documentary filmmaker is the first Latin American journalist to be awarded a prestigious American journalism award. After decades of absence, he travels to Mexico and tensions rise, as his former landsmen and colleagues are less than happy to see him, berating him for leaving and becoming an American shill.

We gaze inwards, into a man who is perpetually inhabiting a liminal space. Neither Mexican nor American, neither rich nor poor, he has to navigate a no-man’s land, depending on the goodwill of people, who are anchored in reality, to give him direction and purpose. Silverio’s mind becomes increasingly scrambled, as his latest docufiction movie bleeds into his day to day reality. Simple walks and conversations turn into grand allegorical long takes of Mexican city and landscapes, imaginary conversations with cartel victims and Hernán Cortés sitting on a pyramid of dead bodies quoting Octavio Paz (an award winning Mexican poet and diplomat). 

The cast is fantastic with Giménez Cacho carrying the movie on his back, which almost feels like a one-man-show at times. But the actual star of the movie is the cinematography (Darius Khondji). Thanks to its roller coaster long takes through surreal landscapes, beautiful contre-jour wide shots and intimate close-ups we are taken deeper into a lost man’s shattered perception of time and space, as he grapples with his responsibilities as a father, husband and journalist. The soundtrack consists of seemingly unrelated songs that tie everything together at the end.

This movie is a navel-gazing beautiful mess, showing a liberal intellectual eaten alive by rumination, impostor syndrome and weltschmerz and that heavily relies on its audience feeling the same (which I do, so that’s covered). There is no proposal for change and no policy suggestions, just the painful understanding of oppressive systems and their destructive nature. It is a self-flagellating piece about a strata of people, who understand and suffer, but never do anything against the ails of the world.

Servus Papa, See You in Hell (2022)

Directed by Christopher Roth

The movie is based on Jeanne Tremsal’s (script) memories of her life in the real-life commune established by the artist Otto Mühl in 1972. He was convicted of several counts of child abuse and drug offences, after the commune finally fell apart in the 90-ies.

The cardinal rule of the commune was free sex. Monogamy was strictly forbidden, which was relentlessly enforced by a rigid hierarchical structure with Mühl and his close council of women on top as well as by daily humiliation rituals disguised as art performances. Children were separated from their families and lived on the main commune island with Otto and his cronies, while their parents were delegated to work at the commune owned MLM to ensure its financial security.    

The story in the movie is heavily fictionalized, as per Tremsal’s wishes and so unfolds exclusively from Jeanne’s (Jana McKinnon) perspective, as she shows us her daily life in the commune. Every shot shows a sweeping bright and sun-soaked landscape of flower fields teeming with insects and people kissing, making art and dancing. But underneath it all is a solid layer of dread, thanks to the editing and the eerie soundtrack. Clemens Schick as Otto is terrifying from the start, as he mugs, whines and abuses his way through the movie, spurred on by his entourage.  

As this is the only life Jeanne knows, we’re shown unsettling moments and practices in an impartial, sometimes even amused manner. A lot of things are taken in stride or not registered at all, until a more or less cohesive story of abuse, terror and fascist overtones emerges seemingly from nowhere, although it was happening right under out noses throughout the entire movie.  

Servus Papa, See You in Hell is a hard movie to watch, showing us, how our society’s reverence for non-conformist “genius” male artists can bring forth something as disgusting as Otto Mühl, who terrorized and abused an entire generation of women. It shows us that victims are often unprotected and shunned, as to not disturb the status quo and that the only solution is to band together and speak out even for those who can’t or won’t do it for themselves.

Enola Holmes 2 (2022)

Directed by Harry Bradbeer

Enola Holmes (Millie Bobby Brown), now a private detective, takes on the case of the disappearance of Sarah Chapman (Hannah Dodd), a poor matchstick girl, who’s disappeared from the living quarters she shared with other workers of the factory including her younger sister. With allies old and new, Enola unearths a conspiracy in the highest echelons of London society, crosses paths with her insufferable brother Sherlock once again and makes a new enemy who might match her in wit and panache.

Honestly, I despised the first movie for its fake feminist message, which set Enola up to be the “not like the other girls” girl and in turn throwing other women under bus for daring to be feminine or conform to the expectations of society. I hated that young girls are taught this tired old trope and as a result was ready to tear this one limb from limb (I might’ve overreacted a teeny tiny tad).

To my surprise, however, the movie turned out to be good, actually.

While the first movie made a novelty of a girl punching back, the action in this installment was fun and the film had very few qualms about punching in general. The fact that Enola is a girl comes up once for humorous effect and is then quickly set aside for some clever sleuthing and sometimes necessary kicking. The plot suffers a little from Enola being related to the world’s greatest detective (not Batman, but close), as his case and sheer presence is on the verge of overshadowing her at all times. Fortunately by the beginning of the third act, the movie gets it together, so that Enola can shine in the finale. 

The Holmes family dynamics are explored further to great effect. The relationship between Enola and Sherlock (Henry Cavill) is respectful and even warm at times, both reluctantly learning from each-other throughout the movie. Helena Bonham Carter is great as Eudoria Holmes, finally questioning her parenting methods and their consequences for her children and David Thewlis as treacherous Inspector Grail has a great time chewing the scenery.

Enola Holmes 2 sheds its predecessor’s artificial “girl boss” message, for a humanist one. All of the female characters are shown to have something valuable to bring to the table, be it knowledge of high society etiquette or knowing their way around a weapon. The fact that it’s based on a real life figure and her political and organizational efforts for female workers rights, shows that there is no need for artificiality, when it comes to showing the worth of women in history, society and fiction.

Glass Onion: A Knives Out Mystery (2022)

Directed by Rian Johnson

Master detective Benoit Blanc (Daniel Craig) is back for another mystery, as he gets invited to a remote island along with a cast of colorful characters to solve a case that may or may not involve a murder.

The sequel to Knives Out (2019) is quite different from its predecessor, but not less engaging. As the title suggests, it is a glass onion of a movie, with see-through layers and a visible center, which is distorted enough that you have to squint and use the readily available clues to make out what’s really going on. As usual the mystery is deliciously constructed and doesn’t try to dupe the audience, opting for an honest dialogue instead. 

The cast has incredible chemistry, as they play off of each other so well that you believe that this mismatched group are lifelong friends. Benoit Blanc is a joy to watch, his showmanship and ego never overshadowing the other characters or the plot, rather complementing every ensemble scene that he finds himself in. However, the definite standout performance is delivered by Janelle Monáe, whose rendition of Cassandra Brand is as layered as the namesake of the movie. It is also worth mentioning that there are countless very fun cameos that range from head-scratching to delightful, which everyone should experience for themselves.

The costume (Jenny Eagen) as well as set design (Rick Heinrichs) are both impeccable. Bright and airy, they convey the rich feel of a mediterranean island populated by people who might think that they’re down to earth, but instead left behind anything earthly many moons ago. The sets are larger than life and the music (Nathan Johnson) compliments this with fun and cheeky string quartets and lilting melodies, which evoke memories of Death on the Nile and other sun-soaked whodunits. Glass Onion by the Beatles also makes an appearance at the perfect time. 

Rian Johnson delivers a sincere and fun murder mystery, where the rich reprehensible characters are still allowed to be human, unlike some of the other movies that came out this year. The ensuing tragedies are given the appropriate gravitas without weighing down the plot or the comedy and what political commentary there is, is not paraded about and gels perfectly with the rest of the movie. This is movie magic at its best and a strong contender for best movie of the year.

Triangle of Sadness (2022)

Directed by Ruben Östlund

Relax your triangle of sadness.

A young and beautiful influencer couple is gifted a luxury cruise hosting a small number of the world’s one percent. There is a good mix of abhorrent rich people stereotypes to choose from, including a russian “shit seller” and british war profiteers. Between photoshoots and steamy sex, our couple is drawn into the world of the super wealthy and all the shenanigans they can afford (spoilers: but can they afford everything? wink). 

Triangle of Sadness starts off strong with our main character, a male model named Carl (Harris Dickinson) auditioning with a designer for his next gig, where he’s deliberately treated like cattle. Then he goes to a fashion show with a laughably fake environmental message and finally to dinner with his girlfriend Yaya (Charlbi Dean), also a model and influencer. They fight about why Carl is expected to pay the bill, which turns into a semi-plausible discussion about gender roles and expectations. 

It is here, where the overarching themes of the movie are introduced, and quite effectively so. We’re told that we’ll be taken on a journey into the abyss - the great divide between rich and poor, man and woman, capitalism and socialism. We will sail these treacherous waters and come out battered, but wiser. Unfortunately this promise will not be kept, but there’s a lot of movie ahead of us.

There is one brilliant scene, however, which made me wish that Triangle of Sadness was a short film consisting of this scene alone.

During the shit and vomit deluge everyone knows from the trailers, the self-proclaimed socialist alcoholic captain of the ship (Woody Harrelson) and the “shit seller” capitalist (Zlatko Burić) coop up on the bridge, drunkenly debating the merits of the respective ideologies. Being from the former Soviet Union Mr. Shit (no, I didn’t bother learning his name) is not just familiar with socialism as a concept, but actually saw it become reality and turn into fascism, due to the greed of the Soviet government. He turned to capitalsm, because it’s at least honest about its exploitation of the working class to profit the few.

The captain, being American, knows every facet of capitalism and is (understandably) sick of it - he wants a better world. But, as he doesn’t know, how to change it, he turns to a simplified romanticized version of socialism (the kind you see on Twitter a lot) as the main ideology that can deliver us from capitalism. He admits however that he’s a “shit socialist”, because he directly profits from the world’s ultra-rich by captaining a cruise yacht. No resolution to this problem is found, (correctly) indicating that there is no easy (Twitter) solution to late-stage capitalism.

This scene is funny and unsettling, weirdly lit, beautifully acted and intercut with the aforementioned ultra-rich shitting themselves.

Done. The End.

…

Unfortunately not.

The tentative beginnings of interesting social commentary deteriorate consistently throughout the movie. What started out fine, turns into boring obviousness by the beginning of the third act. Indeed the movie would’ve been better with the entirety of the third act scrubbed from existence. The projectile vomiting and subsequent shitavaganza at the captain’s dinner is exactly that. There is no actual joke, except bodily fluids in the vicinity of rich people, which seems to be enough for some (the director most and foremost).

The cast is fine for the most part, true highlights being Woody Harrelson, Iris Berben as partially mute Therese and Dolly de Leon, as toilet manager turned captain Abigail. The sets are supposed to be lavish, but lack creativity and flair, making the luxury yacht look like a discount cruise ship. The cinematography and soundtrack are quite uninspired, as well. 

Ruben Östlund definitely had something to say about the state of our society, but opted for pointing at the bad stuff and covering it with fluids of all kinds, without ever engaging with the reasons those problems exist in the first place. After this journey, I am certainly battered, mostly by boredom, but none the wiser, except for the simple fact that rich people don’t have it easy in cinemas this year.

Einfach Mal Was Schönes (2022)

Directed by Karoline Herfurth

Karla (Karoline Herfurth) is a late-night radio host, 39, single and utterly and totally fine (she’s fine!). That is, until she sees her ex at her father’s wedding strutting around with his pregnant wife. You see, as they were together, Karla got pregnant, but seeing the existential dread on his (dumb) face, agreed to wait and got an abortion. Now, Karla is determined to have a baby on her own, which is easier said than done, what with being a single woman, caring for an alcoholic depressed mother and having virtually no-one to share the load. 

This movie is two movies running parallel to each other, with the main character being at the intersection, kind of like an infinity symbol. This is fully intentional, making the film and the characters more lifelike, mixing drama and comedy into a somewhat fuller depiction of normal life.   

Karla’s life is dominated by her family drama. We’re shown a deeply dysfunctional family, who can’t communicate anything without it escalating into a fight. As the middle sister, she takes the brunt of everyone’s disappointment and is virtually the only one caring for their mother who slid into a depression years ago, as their father left the family for another woman (my, am I tired of this trope). Her older sister is an overly stressed, always angry lawyer (and that trope), who had to parent their mother, before Karla took over and the youngest sister is always on the verge of tears or crying (and this one), if anything doesn’t go according to plan. It is this nigh impenetrable wall of trauma Karla has to overcome to get, what she wants - a family of her own. 

As a counterweight to the tearful family drama, the romcom, including different music, cinematography and lighting, is more lighthearted and ticks all of the trope (I'm usually not one for harping on tropes, but man this movie broke me) boxes in the process:

1. Senay: The plus-size non-white (but light-skinned enough) best friend complete with vaguely ethnic zingers and unquestioning support. 

2. Ole: The dreamy love interest (with no discerning character, except his hotness). 

3. The cutest meet-cute I’ve seen in a while: During the afterparty at Karla’s father’s wedding, her mother drunkenly crashes the wedding and Karla is somehow made responsible for that. Obviously she wants to leave immediately, but alas she forgot her handbag on enemy soil the dancefloor. Enter Ole, dreamy and very hot…

4. The first kiss: Barefoot in the rain.

5. The second-act break-up: The only time the family drama and the romcom intersect and Ole accidentally overhears that Karla wants a baby.

6. The “I don’t believe in love, anymore” moment: After Karla’s mother has a drunken accident and Karla is left to care for her.

7. The grand speech and getting together: Complete with horse-drawn carriage. 

Karoline Herfurth’s determined and precise direction elevates a somewhat messy script, combining the heavy family drama and the ridiculously cute romcom into a unified story of societal and familial expectations, womanhood, family bonds and trauma healing. In the end nothing is really resolved, the trauma is still there, her mother is still an alcoholic, but at least has a boyfriend and a chance at a healthier family of her own.

The Menu (2022)

Directed by Marc Mylod

Searchlight Pictures invites you to experience the Menu

A young couple is shipped off to an exclusive island to experience the food of their lifetime at the Hawthorne, a coveted fine dining experience taking on only 12 guests at a time for $1250 per guest. The island is a complete ecosystem with the food grown, harvested and prepared there, as well the staff residing there with famous Chef Slowik overseeing his small kingdom. Everything is prepared to perfection, everyone moves in unison and the guests are invited to use all of their senses to relish The Menu.

Hors d’oeuvre Sourdough/Beet and Chicory Foam/Cucumber Relish Caviar

The social commentary the writers and director serve us is a cold affair. Like the sourdough they let their grievances ferment for so long that the actual critique falls flat. It might look and feel like it has substance, but withers if you sit with it for too long. The fresh pops of actual thought do freshen up the stale earthy taste, but not enough for a film with such highly set goals. 

Appetizer Candied Carrots/Sesame/Chili Crisp

The cinematography (Peter Deming), including the food photography, is stunning. Every shot is crisp and moody, with a clean finish. The island looks serene and idyllic, which prompts a visceral negative reaction, when the guests arrive to disturb the peace. The production design (Ethan Tobman) is heavily inspired by the understated, but also somehow overstated, designs of the Bauhaus movement, giving the film an overall chilly and, later, sinister look. The soundscape binds everything together, overlapping the frantic musical score (Colin Stetson) with the hushed concentration of the kitchen and the inane babbel from the guest room.

Salad Watermelon/Feta/Raspberry Balsamic Vinegar

I haven’t seen such a stellar ensemble cast in a long time. As the characters are not people, as much as stand-ins for “social problems” (according to the director at least) and overarching themes, they are perfectly arranged on the plate. Not one of them stands out or takes up more space than needed, as they all work in unison to reveal a meticulously thought out plot. The direction is precise and deliberate, showing perfection, but also utmost respect for the craft of acting and the art of filmmaking in general. Every component gets to shine, including camera, music and design, but not one thing outshines another.

Main Course Beef/American Cheese/Brioche

This juicy cheeseburger of a movie is extremely well done and fun to watch. The comedy is on point and the story unfolded so well that my eyes were glued to the screen, mouth agape and I heard myself whisper “Thank you, Chef!”, as the climactic ending came around. The cast of characters consists of stereotypes that are both relatable and unrelatable.

Unfortunately, the bitter aftertaste of the rather flat social commentary that permeates the movie comes to a head with a greasy anti-intellectual message and feels more like a film about the writer’s and director’s very myopic grievances than an actual desire for a (ful)filling change.

Dessert Humble Pie

I strongly urge everyone of my readers to watch the film for themselves. This review is, in the end, just a single opinion and although I’m happy to provide guidance for what to watch, I really believe that in this case everyone has to form an opinion of their own.

See How They Run (2022)

Directed by Tom George

“You’ve seen one, you’ve seen ‘em all.”

The movie starts in the 1950-ies with our future victim Leo Köpernick narrating the events up to his death at the 100th show anniversary of The Mousetrap, a popular real-world mystery play written by Agatha Christie (which is still running). Leo lets us know that he doesn’t like whodunits (gee thanks!), as they’re too stiff for his liking and tells us plainly all of the plot beats of a whodunit from beginning to end. Then he dies and the mystery is afoot.

All of the cast is brilliant, with Saoirse Ronin’s and Sam Rockwell’s chemistry carrying most of the movie’s plot and humor. The sets are lavish, especially the set of The Mousetrap, which looks and feels like the real-life set at London’s West End. The music by Daniel Pemberton is befitting of a 1950-ies mystery romp. The plot of The Mousetrap was nicely woven into the plot of the movie and the portrayal of Agatha Christie, at the end of the movie, was amazing and worth the admission price alone.  

Unfortunately, See How They Run really wants to be “not like the other girls” - and fails miserably. It painstakingly highlights every trope of the genre, but doesn’t do anything with them except pointing and winking at the camera. In the same manner it tries to juxtapose several detective genres like Golden Age vs. Noir or stereotypes like the Trickster/Woman Detective vs. Hardboiled (drunk) Detective, but again fails to do anything with these contradictions, except point and chuckle at their mere existence. As the intended subversion or juxtaposition don’t go off as intended, the film feels like a graveyard of ideas. 

The quirky characters and the mystery are handled without any particular care or interest by the filmmakers, making it obvious that they don’t particularly like the genre, but weren’t creative enough to make it their own, instead opting for smothering the movie in an inordinate amount of meta humor.

See How They Run is funny in places and even smart in others with a stellar cast helping it along, but in the end it fails at what it sets out to do and serves us a lukewarm mystery in the process.

Amsterdam (2022)

Directed by David O. Russel

The movie opens with the simple phrase “A lot of this really happened”, which is technically true, as it's based on the Business Plot of 1933 (the most boring name for an evil conspiracy). I would recommend not to look it up, before the movie, as it's much more fun to figure it out, alongside the characters.

The main trio Burt Berendsen (Christian Bale), Valerie Voze (Margot Robbie) and Harold Woodsman (John David Washington) all meet in 1918 France as Burt and Harold are injured in battle and nursed back to health by Valerie, while having more fun than warranted in a war-time hospital. Harold and Valerie fall in love immediately and all three (Burt doesn’t want to leave his best friend) decide to move to Amsterdam, where they live together and develop a beautiful and strong bond. I’m kind of bummed out that the movie wasn’t more overt about the fact that they had a polyamorous relationship. I mean, if it looks like a duck…..

Burt eventually leaves for New York, because he misses his wife (hard eye-roll) and sonn after that Valerie leaves Harold unannounced and he eventually also returns to New York.

In 1933 Bill Meekins, Harold and Burt’s commander during the war, dies under mysterious circumstances and the pair is hired by Meekins’ daughter to investigate. As they take on the case, they uncover a crazy conspiracy brewing in the upper echelons of New York high society. If you guessed Nazis, yeah … kind of.

Although the movie is chock-full of political intrigue, racism and other societal woes, it treats them as a given and never pontificates about them, giving the matters at hand even more gravitas and more room to breath. This nonchalant treatment of the truth creates a bizarre atmosphere, where the characters are allowed to exist outside of their supposed social roles. They are allowed to breathe and are never used as stand-ins for an entire group of people i.e. black men, women, etc., even when other characters try to hoist that particular responsibility upon them. 

The chemistry between the characters is great and you genuinely believe that their friendship can and will outlast, whatever the universe throws their way. The sepia-toned and warm golden color palette is a joy to look at and the cinematography is splendid, using a combination of close-ups and fisheye views to give the film a quirky and slightly out-of-touch look. 

Ostensibly this movie is made to look and sound beautiful, which is one of its main themes. Throughout the movie the plot stops abruptly at times to let the characters and us marvel at the beauty around them. Maybe someone is singing in the street or there’s some art to admire or to discuss and maybe there is just a good song on the radio. After the art break, the movie just resumes the story, where it left off.     

Amsterdam is a movie set on a world stage and you can certainly watch it for its amazing performances, the interesting whodunnit and its bonkers conspiracy, but all those things are treated more and more as background noise, as the movie presents its actual themes: beauty, music, friendship and love.

Black Panther: Wakanda Forever (2022)

Directed by Ryan Coogler

The King is dead, long live the Queen. 

The film opens with a very well crafted and respectful send-off to King T’Challa and by extension the actor who played him Chadwick Boseman, who succumbed to cancer in August 2020. The emotions in this scene seem genuine, as Princess Shuri (Letitia Wright) and Queen Ramonda (Angela Bassett), his sister and mother respectively, cry for him as he is being sent-off to the ancestral plane, while the whole of Wakanda clad in white, dances and celebrates his life. I was genuinely surprised and thankful that Disney refrained from CGI-ing him into the movie. 

A year later Ramonda is now Queen of Wakanda and constantly under attack by the world community for not sharing their precious resource of Vibranium, a very durable metal imbued with nigh magical capabilities. It is made clear that the world leaders, led by America, will at some point try to take it for themselves, whether the Wakandans want it or not. 

At the same time, an American military vessel that searches for vibranium in the sea with the help of some mcguffin device, finds it and is instantly attacked by a new foe: blue sea people. As everyone on the ship is dead, the Americans are convinced that the attack was perpetrated by the Wakandans. Meanwhile, the King of the blue sea people, Namor, a muscly dude with tiny ridiculous wings on his ankles, contacts Queen Ramonda and asks her to bring him the inventor of the mcguffin searching device and kill them, as his people don’t want to be found, therefore setting up another unfathomably powerful nation that has Vibranium.  

The inventor turns out to be a 19-year-old genius college student by the name of Riri Williams (Dominique Thorne) who, as the film tells us in no uncertain terms, will become Ironheart, the successor to Iron Man. Shuri and General Okoye (Danai Jekesai Gurira), the commander of Wakanda’s all female palace guard the Dora Milaje, retrieve the girl, but being the good guys and all that don’t want to kill her.  

First the good things. It is definitely a female-led movie and the action scenes are fun, as we see the ladies decked out in the latest Wakandan tech beat on various faceless goons (and goonesses). M’Baku (Winston Duke) is a delight, as he was in the last movie and his interactions with Shuri are some of the best character moments in the film. Shuri’s character development in the wake of her brother’s death was mostly well done and made her transition into the new Black Panther believable, but also quite tropey. 

Unfortunately that’s it for the good things. The film clocks in at 161 minutes, of which at least half an hour is unnecessary bloat. The climax was built up to, but never really delivered, showcasing some of the worst CGI I’ve seen in a Marvel movie in a long time. The feeble attempt to humanize Namor’s people in the span of the movie fell flat, as they turned into faceless CGI Orcs attacking Helm’s Deep in the last battle.  

All in all, the sequel strayed too far from its realistic and social commentary roots that were set up beautifully in the first movie and fell into exploitative pitfalls that shouldn’t have been possible had it followed the route that was set for it. It tried to tell a tender story of grief and failed, tried to tell a story of vengeance versus responsibility and failed in this regard as well. What’s left is an overlong (sometimes fun) husk of cinematic drivel that I can’t recommend in good conscience.

Aftersun (2022)

Directed by Charlote Wells

11-year-old Sophie spends an unforgettable summer holiday in Turkey with her father in the nineties. Their time together is captured by a brand new Panasonic hand-held. 20 years later, adult Sophie watches the videos to make sense of her relationship with her father and understand Callum as a person. Her mental image of their holiday, the pixelated images of the camera and glimpses of Callum in mirrors and behind half closed doors that she either didn’t register or understand as an 11-year-old result in a movie heavy with close-ups and narrow fields of view. The music is put to great effect, especially in the last scene and the movie does brilliantly what movies were invented for in the first - it bends time to its will and makes you experience everything at once to heart-wrenching effect.

In the end this movie isn’t focused on any kind of plot, but emotions. The wonder a child feels at a summer resort, the wet towels at the pool, the unforgiving mediterranean sun. The perfect place and time for self-exploration. The main characters both grapple with adulthood. Sophie being on the verge of discovering love, sexuality and adult responsibility and Callum feeling that he got there far too quickly. The love between daughter and father is beautifully shown in smiles, laughing and tender touches; touches without any context other than the love of a parent. As the holiday unrelentingly winds down, we witness an intimate study of her own past, as Sophie gets to know a new ethereal side of her father that she couldn’t perceive as a child.

A touching and tender drama about love of any kind and what it does to us.