Swinton Takes on Dual Roles in Mind-Bending Ghost Story ‘The Eternal Daughter’

Swinton Takes on Dual Roles in Mind-Bending Ghost Story ‘The Eternal Daughter’

By Alex McPherson

Moody, enigmatic, and unnerving, director Joanna Hogg’s “The Eternal Daughter” is a stylistically ingenious ghost story — featuring Tilda Swinton in dual roles — albeit one that doesn’t land all the emotions it aims for.

The film centers around Julie Hart (Swinton), a filmmaker traveling with her mother, Rosalind (Swinton, with a luscious wig), and her adorable dog, Louis (Swinton’s actual dog), to a countryside hotel in Wales to celebrate Rosalind’s 80th birthday and to surreptitiously write a screenplay inspired by Rosalind’s life.

Rosalind used to spend time at this sprawling estate as a child when her Aunt Jocelyn owned the building during World War II; she associates memories of both joy and sadness within the aged walls. Still, however, the hotel isn’t exactly the most inviting abode — surrounded by jagged woodlands and perpetually draped in a thick fog that threatens to consume anyone within reach. The blustering wind howls through the foundation like a spirit’s cry for help and release.

Upon arrival late one evening, Julie and Rosalind appear to be the sole guests staying there — with only a hilariously passive aggressive receptionist (Carly-Sophia Davies) to greet them. Julie has other things to worry about. These include being able to learn more about the woman she’s spent so much time trying to connect with, yet knows so little about, who she’s mining for her own creative endeavors.

Their usually banal interactions about Rosalind’s experiences, or what to simply order for dinner, allude to deeper anxieties and insecurities. Additionally, whenever Julie tries to focus and write, she’s interrupted by strange noises emanating from somewhere in the hotel, as if the building itself is a living entity trying to dissuade her project. 

A mystifying tale ensues, but Hogg (whose previous filmography includes the somewhat autobiographical “Souvenir” films) isn’t interested in scaring viewers. Rather, “The Eternal Daughter” uses its eerie atmosphere to explore themes of grief, acceptance, and the creation of art itself — of how it works as a preservation of memory and a means to confront life’s challenges.

“The Eternal Daughter” thrives off slow-burn paranoia that immerses viewers into Julie’s increasingly disoriented headspace. From ominous bumps on the floor above, to machines suddenly whirring to life, and doors literally groaning as they shut behind Julie, Hogg succeeds at creating an off-kilter environment that keeps viewers on edge. 

Jump scares are nowhere to be found. Rather, thanks to tactile sound design, distanced yet meticulous cinematography by Ed Rutherford dripping in gothic stylings, and a creepily melodic score by David Saulesco, “The Eternal Daughter” is a psychological chiller that has absolutely no qualms about alienating viewers with short attention spans. It’s deeply immersive from start to finish — letting viewers cautiously wander Julie’s unfamiliar surroundings with her, as she slowly searches for some unknown source that grips her thoughts.

Of course, Swinton’s performances (as both Julie and Rosalind) are exemplary: understated and subtle. Julie’s a tormented character — immersed in her filmmaking work, to the detriment of her social life, without children of her own, and grappling with the reality that Rosalind won’t be with her much longer. She also feels guilty about secretly recording their conversations, “intruding” where she feels she doesn’t belong. Swinton captures Julie’s high-strung demeanor while also showing the widening cracks in her facade. 

Rosalind, on the other hand, is concerned about Julie, but keeps her true feelings subdued — illuminated in brief remarks that, despite their plainness, hit the sensitive Julie like a truck. The bizarre nature of the casting decision quickly fades away, as Swinton fully inhabits both characters and renders them distinct, yet cut from the same cloth nevertheless. It underscores the idea of Julie being unable to separate herself and her well-being from her mother — for better and worse, she struggles to accept the inevitable. 

Hogg’s screenplay succeeds (for the most part) at weaving dark comedy and pathos into the proceedings — the aforementioned receptionist’s weirdly aggressive reactions provide much of the comic relief, as does Louis, one of the best canine actors in the business. A benevolent groundskeeper named Bill (Joseph Mydell), on the other side of the spectrum, exudes warmth and kindness. He stays in touch with his late wife via memories associated with each room in the big house, and tunes us into Hogg’s grand schemes. 

A central theme of “The Eternal Daughter,” in fact, revolves around the ways we stay connected to loved ones who pass, and the ways that self-expression can function as a way to free ourselves of regret and make peace with the past. Julie, in trying to finally connect on a deeper level with her mother, must also confront her own tormented psyche, and art provides a prime medium to do so.

Hogg isn’t a stranger to such themes in her work, but “The Eternal Daughter” feels distinct in the way she crafts a full-blooded ghost story out of (somewhat pretentious) themes. Indeed, by lingering so much on unusual, seemingly minute details, “The Eternal Daughter” is a puzzle box that begs to be solved. The editing, cinematography, dialogue, and music all contribute to an overarching narrative that’s quietly complex. Hogg encourages patience and close inspection — building towards a reveal that’s suitably bewildering. 

The film’s construction also works to its detriment, though. By seeming so impenetrable, at least on first viewing, “The Eternal Daughter” sacrifices heft that prevented me from becoming emotionally wrapped up in Julie’s ultimately small-scale story. The effort the film requires to unpack doesn’t quite equal the payoff, rendering it more satisfying as a conceptual experiment than a gripping narrative. Still, though, for arthouse-inclined viewers, “The Eternal Daughter” will captivate, confuse, and leave them hungering for whatever Hogg has in store next.

Tilda Swinton

“The Eternal Daughter” is a 2022 drama-mystery directed by Joanna Hogg and starring Tilda Swinton, Carly-Sophia Davies. It is rated PG-13 for some drug material and the runtime is 1 hour, 36 minutes. It opened in theaters on Dec. 2 and is available on Video on Demand. Alex’s Grade: B+

‘Guillermo del Toro’s Pinocchio’ Is A Beautiful, Wise Retelling of a Classic Story

‘Guillermo del Toro’s Pinocchio’ Is A Beautiful, Wise Retelling of a Classic Story

By Alex McPherson 
Visually spectacular and thematically rich, “Guillermo del Toro’s Pinocchio” is a feast for the senses, a rallying cry for rebellion, and a reminder to cherish those we hold dear.

Utilizing stop-motion animation and updating Carlo Collodi’s 1883 story to 1930s Italy — during a scourge of fascism, with the threat of violence ever-looming — the film zooms in on an elderly carpenter named Gepetto (voiced by David Bradley, with ample tenderness), who tragically loses his young son Carlo (Gregory Mann) in a bombing.

Drunk, furious, and at the end of his rope, Gepetto chops down the tree growing from Carlo’s tombstone — which turns out to be the home of the erudite, self-absorbed Sebastian J. Cricket (Ewan McGregor) — and crudely fashions together our titular Pinocchio (also voiced by Mann) as a stand-in for his lost child.

A vibrant, yet ominous Wood Sprite (Tilda Swinton, as cooly off-putting as always), with dozens of eyes peppering its wings, takes pity on Gepetto and brings his hurried creation to life, entrusting Sebastian to be Pinocchio’s moral guide. Suffice to say, Pinocchio’s first moments don’t go entirely smoothly. He careens across Gepetto’s cottage with gleeful abandon — destroying practically anything that gets in his way — as Gepetto watches, horrified, dodging incoming projectiles. 

Pinocchio’s a lively, rambunctious, and curious soul, but Gepetto’s constant need to make him behave and fit certain roles — most notably, that of Carlo — only ends up backfiring. Townsfolk, most of whom are religious, immediately label Pinocchio as an Other to be ostracized. A fascist official named Podesta (a menacing Ron Perelman) takes a keen interest in Pinocchio’s peculiarities, as does the slimy owner of a traveling carnival, Count Volpe (Christoph Waltz), and his abused “assistant,” Spazzatura (Cate Blanchett, convincingly imitating a monkey).

What follows is a meditation on grief, freedom, childhood, and death that follows the general trajectory of Collodi’s vision and Disney’s 1940 iteration of the story, but with an extra helping of del Toro’s trademark empathy and political fervor.

Indeed, from a visual perspective alone, “Guillermo del Toro’s Pinocchio” is damn-near flawless. From the minute, tactile details poured into each and every character, it’s clear that the film is a labor of love from all involved.

Del Toro and co-director Mark Gustafson (the animation director of Wes Anderson’s brilliant “Fantastic Mr. Fox”) imbue these hand-sculpted figures with expressiveness (both grotesque and enchanting, often simultaneously) that — paired with the impeccable voice cast — beautifully suits this tale of love and compassion amid suffering.

The occasional rough edges only strengthen the characters’ authenticity, each molded from a world that’s beaten them down, in one way or another, in attempts to maintain control and “order.” Frank Passingham’s eye-popping cinematography takes full advantage of the freedom of animation to present numerous shots that won’t leave my mind anytime soon — particularly regarding the freakishly unnerving sea beast.

Pinocchio himself feels right at home in del Toro’s oeuvre — charming, naive, ignorant — thrust into an unfamiliar environment and told to obey. This pressure put on him by Gepetto to be someone he’s not is mirrored by Podesta’s son, Candlewick (Finn Wolfhard), who’s being forced to adopt a vile ideology forced on him by his father and by the larger authority. 

Mann brings an expert level of innocence and confidence to the character, delivering both heartwarming and heart wrenching dialogue throughout. Pinocchio’s coming-of-age is as poignant as ever as he fights his way out of heinous situations — including exploitative work conditions, for entertainment and in service of a tyrannical government — to finally be seen as more than the irreplaceable Carlo in Gepetto’s eyes and to be loved for who he actually is. In this regard, Gepetto has just as much to learn about himself as Pinocchio does, and del Toro renders him a flawed, uncertain, yet deeply caring person, capable of growth even at his old age.

On the lighter side, McGregor is often hilarious as the stringent, wiseass cricket, shouldering most of the film’s laughs. Del Toro and Patrick McHale’s script crackles with sly, dark humor, paired with plenty of slapstick comedy at Sebastian’s expense, that never insults viewers’ intelligence. Waltz’s iconic line delivery perfectly suits Count Volpe’s capitalistic deviousness, and Blanchett is incredible without uttering a single line in English — her vocal mannerisms as the poor monkey Spazzatula convey multitudes.

Even though “Guillermo del Toro’s Pinocchio” follows a familiar template, there’s boatloads of creativity on display in terms of storytelling and aesthetic grandeur. Setting the tale during Mussolini’s reign gives Pinocchio’s acts of disobedience even more weight, and the emphasis on mortality (and the afterlife, given a morbidly idiosyncratic spin) adds wrinkles that caught me off-guard in the end, nearly bringing me to tears.

Additionally, it’s, for some reason, a musical, and while Alexandre Desplat’s score is typically sublime, the songs aren’t exactly necessary to keep the plot moving. That minor quibble aside, this is a film full of joy, sadness, danger, and understanding of life’s great challenges — one that will prove to be a timeless achievement.

“Guillermo del Toro’s Pinocchio” is a 2022 stop-motion animated musical fantasy film co-directed by Guillermo del Toro and Mark Gustafson and voice-work is done by David Bradley, Gregory Mann, Ewan McGregor, Ron Perelman, Christoph Waltz, Cate Blanchett, Tilda Swinton, John Turturro, Tim Blake Nelson and Finn Wolfhard. It is rated PG for dark thematic material, violence, peril, some rude humor and brief smoking and the run time is 1 hour, 57 minutes. It was released in select local theaters on Nov. 18 and will be streaming on Netflix Dec. 9. Alex’s Grade: A.

‘Black Panther: Wakanda Forever’ Is Fitting Tribute to Boseman and a So-So MCU Outing

‘Black Panther: Wakanda Forever’ Is Fitting Tribute to Boseman and a So-So MCU Outing

By Alex McPherson

Overstuffed and overlong, yet retaining a strong emotional core, director Ryan Coogler’s “Black Panther: Wakanda Forever” ultimately plays it safe, for better and worse.

“Wakanda Forever” faces the difficult task of paying tribute to the late Chadwick Boseman, while continuing the story of Wakanda and its people (along with, of course, setting up future installments and spinoffs). Indeed, Coogler’s film starts off on a solemn note and maintains a decidedly down-beat tone throughout.

T’Challa’s sister, tech-genius Shuri (Letitia Wright), tries and fails to save him, as he succumbs to an unnamed illness. This infuses her sorrow with a sense of guilt, responsibility, and rage. T’Challa’s sudden death casts a long shadow over Wakanda, catching everyone off-guard and sending their nation into a state of uncertainty. Queen Ramonda (Angela Bassett, in a towering, fiery performance) leads the nation through a period of intense mourning. She navigates her own grief and contends with violent geopolitical pressures to share Wakanda’s precious resource, Vibranium — used to fuel Wakandan technology — with the outside world.

However, Wakanda isn’t the only civilization to possess Vibranium. The CIA and US Navy SEALS utilize a newfangled Vibranium-detector to locate some in the Atlantic Ocean — only to be attacked by a group of blue-skinned Mesoamerican warriors called “the Talokan,” who ride into battle on whales, singing melodies that lure victims to their deaths. They’re led by Namor (a formidable, albeit goofy-looking Tenoch Huerta), bare-chested and with wings on his ankles, who is furious that the surface world encroached on his territory. Wakanda is blamed for the attack, and Namor blames Wakanda for revealing the existence of Vibranium to begin with. He issues Ramonda and Shuri an ultimatum — bring him Riri (an amusing though somewhat one-note Dominique Thorne), the Gen-Z MIT student responsible for creating the Vibranium-detector, or Wakanda will be targeted by the Talokan.

All the while, CIA agent and ally of Wakanda Everett Ross (Martin Freeman) learns that the CIA is planning to seize Vibranium to develop weapons for the US military. 

As these various plot threads collide and intersect, the situation gets out of control — leading to plenty of action set pieces, a heavy sprinkling of exposition dumps, and a welcome dollop of melancholic reflection for good measure. “Wakanda Forever” is busy, to say the least, nailing some targets while missing others. Thankfully, Coogler honors Boseman’s memory and his larger cultural impact — foregrounding concepts of loss, acceptance, and hope that shine through otherwise formulaic beats.

Like 2018’s “Black Panther” before it, “Wakanda Forever” establishes a stylistic identity that separates it from other films in the Marvel Cinematic Universe. Wakanda is a vibrant, Afro-futurist metropolis, filmed with clarity and scale by cinematographer Autumn Durald. Inspired by various African cultures, Hannah Beachler’s astounding set design pops off the screen, as do the costumes by Ruth E. Carter, underscoring the characters’ regality and commanding auras, matching the mood of each scene, be it funereal or explosive.

The Talokan’s underwater kingdom is vividly rendered, although heavy on CGI. Still, the Talokan don’t look as formidable as the Wakandan Dora Milaje, led by a fearsome Okoye (Danai Gurira, thankfully given a more defined character arc this time around), who continue to showcase badass weapons and fight choreography like the first film. Ludwig Göransson’s score pulsates with booms and sharp vocals, beautifully complementing the numerous action scenes and lending further gravitas to the powerful, largely women-led ensemble. 

The film’s rich tapestry of sights and sounds is matched by effective performances that elevate the proceedings to new dramatic heights. Boseman’s loss is felt acutely here, as viewers can sense the sadness of not only the characters, but also the actors portraying them — particularly Bassett and Wright.

Bassett is the standout here, bringing a fierce, tormented energy to Queen Ramonda that emphasizes the character’s bravery and brashness, a leader facing tough decisions pitting her heart against her head. Shuri is coming to terms with T’Challa’s loss, becoming a valiant leader herself, and reckoning with what kind of legacy she wants to leave behind for Wakanda and the larger world — poignantly acted by Wright, who capably shoulders the film’s quieter sequences and the bombastic ones. Winston Duke provides the bulk of the comedic relief as M’Baku, a burly lad with more depth than expected.

Namor, played by Tenoch Huerta

Huerta gives Namor his all, bringing charisma and understated menace to the role. It’s too bad, however, that Namor’s backstory is relegated to rushed exposition. His motivations are understandable — colonial forces wronged him and his Mayan culture long ago, and he will do whatever it takes to protect his people and assert dominance — but don’t hit home with much force. By attempting to make him a sympathetic antihero in such a hurried fashion, “Wakanda Forever” sacrifices nuance, but at least Coogler’s trying to add some complexity to the character.

This issue extends to other elements, too. Even with a gargantuan, 2-hour-and-41-minute runtime, Coogler’s film doesn’t give its numerous plot points enough time to breathe — save for scenes dedicated to honoring and remembering Boseman’s portrayal.

The CIA thread involving Freeman lacks any sort of punch, and the film sidelines the more provocative topic of US imperialism in favor of superhero clichés in the deafening finale. Similarly, the action scenes — except for a thrilling vehicular chase — aren’t especially memorable, overusing weightless CGI and slow-motion to sometimes comical effect. This muddled approach makes “Wakanda Forever” exhausting when it should be thrilling.

But this is an MCU film above all else, and “Wakanda Forever” checks every box that its overcrowded genre dictates. There are glimmers of a truly special, meaningful film that isn’t realized, but Coogler succeeds enough where it counts, and provides a satisfying salute to an impressive world of warriors and a cinema icon lost too soon.

Danai Gurira and Angela Bassett

“Black Panther: Wakanda Forever” is a 2022 fantasy action-sci-fi-adventure directed by Ryan Coogler and starring Angela Bassett, Letitia Wright, Tenoch Huerta, Lupita Nyong’o, Danai Gurira, Dominique Thorne and Winston Duke.  Rated PG-13 for sequences of strong violence, action and some language, it is 2 hours, 41 minutes’ long. It opened in theatres on Nov. 11. Alex’s Grade: B

‘The Banshees of Inisherin’ Is Powerful Story of Fractured Bonds

‘The Banshees of Inisherin’ Is Powerful Story of Fractured Bonds

By Alex McPherson

A tragicomedy that packs a massive emotional wallop, writer-director Martin McDonagh’s “The Banshees of Inisherin” is a near-perfect film, balancing its blisteringly entertaining dialogue with sobering pathos. As someone who considers “Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri” to be one of my favorite films of all time, McDonagh’s latest effort certainly doesn’t disappoint.

Set on an idyllic island off the west coast of Ireland in 1923 — shielded from the nearby civil war, yet remaining its own microcosm of turmoil and pettiness —  “The Banshees of Inisherin” follows Pádraic (Colin Farrell), an contented, amiable dairy farmer who makes up for his lack of sophistication with kindness. Living in a cottage with his loving sister Siobhan (Kerry Condon) and his beloved donkey Jenny, Pádraic is comfortable with his banal existence. Until, one day, there is a disturbance in the force.

Pádraic usually jaunts off to the local pub mid afternoon with his aging pal, Colm (Brendan Gleeson), but on this day in April when Pádraic stops by to meet Colm at his house, he’s completely ignored. In fact, Colm wants absolutely nothing to do with Pádraic anymore, declaring him, bluntly, to be too boring and dull to be worth hanging out with. Colm, suffering from “despair,” wants to leave a mark on the world through composing music, and is prepared to cut out anything that could possibly hold him back. Pádraic is utterly distraught, unwilling to accept Colm’s decision — which sets the stage for a typically McDonagh-esque comedy of errors, steeped with brutality, both physical and verbal, and leaving a tangibly potent impact.

Indeed, “The Banshees of Inisherin” blends hilarity with calamity, exaggeration with resonant, relevant themes. McDonagh explores the perils of ego, mental illness, isolation, mortality, and civil conflict with panache, imbuing the film with unpredictability from start to finish. 

Colin Farrell

The cast is stellar, especially the two leads, finally reuniting after “In Bruges.” Farrell brings yet another fascinatingly flawed character to life as Pádraic experiences a loss of innocence and of self amid the increasingly chaotic proceedings. While the initial setup is played for laughs, McDonagh understands the pain that Colm’s actions wreak upon Pádraic’s well-being — every sardonic quip and blunt takedown is tinged with melancholy. Farrell, as usual, gives a masterful performance, conveying deep wells of feeling through facial expressions alone.

Pádraic’s a sympathetic protagonist, despite his refusal to leave Colm alone. He wants to live a “simple” life and finds joy in the little things, like relaxing at the pub (essentially the town hall), and caring for Jenny. Colm’s actions, however, send him spiraling further and further from the person he thought he was, inching ever-closer to the despair that grips Colm’s soul, as tensions continue to escalate.

Colm’s motivations, despite his stubbornness, remain understandable. Gleeson, with a weathered visage and stern demeanor, lends sorrow to the character. Colm is experiencing an existential crisis, making a last-minute scramble to leave behind a legacy and become one of the greats, like Mozart (even though Pádraic’s never heard of him). His seemingly small actions have profound effects throughout the community, and his harsh decisions are rooted in self-loathing and misplaced pride.

This being a McDonagh joint, supporting players are given plenty of depth. Condon is superb as Pádraic’s sister, Siobhan, the wisest in the village who recognizes Colm’s absurd behavior, and struggles to rescue her brother from sinking to his lows. Wry, intelligent, and underestimated, Siobhan has a fantastic arc over the course of the film, and features in some of its most stirring sequences. Barry Keoghan is incredible as a foul-mouthed young man named Dominic — offbeat, enduring an abusive household with his sadistic policeman father, Peadar (Gary Lydon), yet searching for meaning, purpose, and belonging. Sheila Flitton is fittingly creepy as Mrs. McCormick, embodying a wiry old “banshee” who might, or might not, have some supernatural pull over the island — foretelling doom with a smirk. Who knows, maybe she just likes toying with people?

Colin Farrell, Kelly Condon

Oh, did I forget to mention that this film is funny? McDonagh’s screenplay keeps viewers on their toes, mixing earnest and sardonic, even cartoonish dialogue to thrilling effect. Particularly amusing is how wildly out-of-hand the whole situation gets. “The Banshees of Inisherin” walks a thin narrative tightrope — with over-the-top plot developments that segue into violence, tragedy, and reflection — but through it all, McDonagh ensures we’re in good hands.

The story and performances are the film’s main appeal, but “The Banshees of Inisherin” also shines stylistically. Ben Davis’ vibrant, lush cinematography captures the beauty of this fictional town, but paints a wryly misleading picture, as does Carter Burwell’s wistful score. The camera often frames Pádraic separated from Colm through doors and windows, highlighting the metaphorical chasm between them. Outside, the rolling green hills and bright sun belie an isolation that permeates the island’s residents.

For while a war rages across the mainland — neighbor against neighbor, friend against friend — a different, albeit not so different conflict ensues on Inisherin, between two friends questioning what’s truly important in life. “The Banshees of Inisherin” is, quite simply, unmissable, although viewers should be aware that it isn’t a traditional comedy in any sense of the word. It’s quite a wrenching ride at times, but one of 2022’s best.

“The Banshees of Inisherin” is a 2022 comedy-drama written and directed by Martin McDonagh starring Colin Farrell, Brendan Gleeson, Kerry Condon and Barry Keoghan. It’s rated R for language throughout, some violent content and brief graphic nudity, and the run time is 1 hour, 49 minutes. It is in local theaters Nov. 4. Alex’s Grade: A+  

Brendan Gleeson, Colin Farrell

‘Stars at Noon’ Is A Provocative, Challenging Love Story

‘Stars at Noon’ Is A Provocative, Challenging Love Story

By Alex McPherson
A sexy, hypnotic, and intelligent drama, director Claire Denis’ “Stars at Noon” shines brightly, if viewers can get on its unusual wavelength.

Adapted from Denis Johnson’s 1986 novel of the same name, which takes place during the Nicaraguan Revolution of 1984, “Stars at Noon” unfolds in present-day and centers around Trish (Margaret Qualley), a supposed hard-news American journalist stuck in a politically unstable, Covid-stricken Managua. Lacking funds and a passport, she’s practically at the end of her rope when we first meet her, constantly drunk and turning tricks for wealthy men (including the Minister of Tourism) at the bougie Inter-Continental Hotel to scrounge up the means necessary to leave Nicaragua for good.

While on the prowl for a new client and some precious American dollars, Trish bumps into Daniel (Joe Alwyn), an enigmatic smooth-talker from London who claims to work for an oil company and casually admits he “commits adultery often.” They are immediately attracted to each other, and their transactional love-making evolves into a much deeper attachment. This mysterious white man in a white suit is being pursued by shady government operatives, and Trish’s own life is put at risk. Against their better judgment, these two spiraling souls are pulled together by desperation, romantic longing, and stupidity. They make a last-ditch effort to flee into Costa Rica, pausing frequently for sex, and causing plenty of collateral damage along the way.

Indeed, “Stars at Noon” thrives on mood and tone above all else — tedium mixed with an alluring, dreamlike haziness, offset by jolts of violence and a persistent sense of eeriness. Denis keeps plot details fairly sparse, choosing instead to let viewers bask in the sticky, humid environment, and observe the characters grasping for an escape.

The point is that they’re out-of-place in a foreign land destructively trying to remove themselves. Pacing is slow, conversations stretch on for long periods, and notwithstanding the mounting danger our central duo finds themselves in during the bloated 2-hour-and-18-minute runtime, “Stars at Noon” refuses to stomp on the gas pedal. Despite this subdued pacing, the film is mostly engaging, with a career-best Qualley doing much of the heavy-lifting.

Trish is a wonderfully flawed protagonist, equal parts cynical and helpless, prone to frantic decision-making, which often ends in trouble. Qualley brings a jumpiness that emphasizes Trish’s brash, headstrong personality, but there’s also an ever-present sadness that lingers over her conversations with Daniel and locals, self-loathing that manifests itself in impulsiveness.

While Trish isn’t an easy character to latch onto emotionally, Qualley’s performance — along with Denis’ patient approach to narrative — helps her feel like a grounded (literally) presence throughout. Her understated expressiveness brings additional layers to Trish’s interactions. Trish is trying to claw her way out of a predicament, likely of her own making, joined by a suave “gentleman” she’s both using and being used by, unsure of the kind of person she wants to become and — as Daniel’s goals become slightly clearer — what kind of impact she wants to leave behind. 

Éric Gautier’s camera follows her with a documentary-esque gaze, allowing us to observe her day-to-day efforts to leave Nicaragua, complete with strict Covid precautions. “Stars at Noon” thrives in tactile details, like the pitter-patter of rain against a windshield, and the warm glow of sunlight passing over naked bodies wrapped together in embrace. What’s sacrificed by this approach, however, is an immediacy that saps some of the intensity from pivotal sequences late in the film, as more traditionally “thrilling” elements come into play.

The soundtrack, by Tindersticks, brings a jazzy, noir-inflected touch to the proceedings, at once calming and uneasy — a dichotomy illustrated in Trish’s connection to Daniel. Sex scenes with Daniel are filmed with vivid eroticism — moments of togetherness that provide physical and emotional release while giving them both hope for a better tomorrow.

One incredible sequence on an empty dance floor, featuring a great song by Tindersticks, is irresistibly romantic, unfolding on a different plane of existence from the characters’ grim circumstances.

Qualley gets the most to work with, but Alwyn’s natural charisma and smooth line delivery helps make Daniel’s character a compelling question mark from beginning to end — mixing the profane with a cool, calm, and collected demeanor. It’s frustrating, though, that “Stars at Noon” leaves the specifics of his goals so ambiguous, rendering the film’s much more politically focused second half lacking the emotional impact it could have had.

It’s clear that Denis wants to illustrate the harmful effects of Western governments forcing themselves into outside countries, but the idea seems underdeveloped here. Trish doesn’t know why people want Daniel dead, hence we don’t know for sure either, only learning tidbits of information from Daniel and a creepy CIA agent (Benny Safdie). By the time we finally figure out what’s going on, the story nears its conclusion, leaving the narrative’s political bent neutered.

On the other hand, Trish and Daniel’s dash to the border does have subversive qualities, as their “love” for one another creates chaos for those they run into. Their heroism, as a result, becomes parasitic. For all the sweltering lovemaking and “adventure,” there’s a human toll, and Denis never lets us forget the pain left in their wake.

At the end of the day, “Stars at Noon” is an imperfect, yet strangely compelling watch, put together with a level of craft that’s easy to admire. Pacing and storytelling issues aside, the film only strengthens upon further reflection, as Denis once again demonstrates her mastery of the medium.

“Stars at Noon” is a 2022 romantic thriller directed by Claire Denis and starring Margaret Qualley, Joe Alwyn and Benny Safdie. It is rated R for sexual content, nudity, language and some violence, and runtime is 2 hours, 15 minutes. It was released in select theaters Oct. 14 and began streaming on Hulu on Oct. 28. Alex’s Grade: B+      

Popster Picks & Preview Of Happenings Starting Oct. 17

Popster Picks & Preview Of Happenings Starting Oct. 17

By Lynn Venhaus

Here’s some things going on now, this week and news in pop culture land.

Movie: Family-friendly Halloween fare?

Here you go. “The Curse of Bridge Hallow” on Netflix.

Starring Marlon Wayans, Kelly Rowland and Priah Ferguson. Supporting roles feature reliable John Michael Higgins as the school principal and Rob Riggle as the neighbor/police officer.

OK, this is average at best but when you need something to pass the time with the kids – particularly something holiday-themed, you can do worse than this amiable comedy-adventure featuring some decent thrills, good production design and well-done visual effects. It’s rated TV-14 and is 1 hour, 29 minutes.

The Plot: A teenage girl accidentally releases an ancient and mischievous spirit on Halloween. It causes decorations to come alive and wreak havoc, so she must team up with the last person she’d want to, to save their town – her father.

Fun Fact: I had the pleasure to interview Marlon Wayans when he was promoting “A Haunted House 2” in 2014, and he was one of the most delightful experiences with a ‘celeb’ that I have had during my writing career. The Belleville News-Democrat article is no longer accessible online.

X cast from A24.

Scary Movie: X

Now available on Showtime or for rental on multiple platforms, Ti West’s “X” is one of the best new horror movies of 2022, according to PopLifeSTL.com reviewer Alex McPherson and my colleague Max Foizey of “Max on Movies” on KTRS Radio.

The film is about the production of an amateur porn movie on a remote farm, where the members of the cast and crew meet a grisly fate. It’s set in 1979 and recalls the slasher films from that era.

Here is Alex’s review:

https://www.poplifestl.com/x-is-soulful-slasher-flick/

Shopping: Sold Out!

Mattel reports that the Tina Turner Barbie Doll that was released Thursday, is now sold out.

“Barbie celebrates the unprecedented music career and journey of Tina Turner. She is a Grammy-winning, chart-topping singer, and one of the best-selling recording artists of all time. This doll commemorates her smash hit “What’s Love Got to Do with It,” and the design is inspired by the iconic outfit Tina wore in the music video.”

Our Tina Turner doll wears a black mini dress paired with a denim jacket, sheer black tights, and black heels. Her signature hairstyle, drop earrings, and a microphone accessory complete her look.

She is the fifth artist to be inducted into the Barbie Signature Music Series, with this sixth overall doll in the collection. Designer is Bill Greening.

The doll normally retails for $55, but indirect websites are selling it for much more.

Read more: https://www.cnn.com/2022/10/15/entertainment/tina-turner-barbie-mattel-trnd

TV: Second Chances on “Jeopardy!”

Starting today and for the next two weeks, 18 contestants return to the long-running game show in a “Second Chance” Tournament. Three semi-final games will lead to a two-day final each week. Both winners of the mini-tournaments will earn a spot in the Tournament of Champions that starts Oct. 31.

Food: Soccer & STL Made

Pork steaks, kebab wraps, burgers, hot dogs and more – including vegan and vegetarian options! City SC today announced five of the 25 restaurants that will serve signature food items at the soccer stadium: Balkan Treat Box in Webster Groves; Beast Craft BBQ Co. of Belleville (also operates Beast Butcher & Block in the Grove), Steve’s Hot Dogs, Brasserie by Niche and Pastaria Deli & Wine, two restaurants from Gerard Craft’s Niche Food Group.

Craft is the Chief Flavor Officer for City. The other restaurants to make up “City Flavor” will be announced later. Centene Stadium has 22,500 seats and will be the home of the Major League Soccer expansion franchise St Louis City SC, which starts play in 2023.

For more info, here is St Louis Magazine article: https://www.stlmag.com/dining/st-louis-city-sc-local-food-concessions-centene-stadium/

There are episodes 1 & 2 about the City Flavor efforts.

Today in St. Louis History:

The syndicated daytime tabloid talk show “The Sally Jessy Raphael Show,” with radio host Sally Jessy Raphael, debuts on KSDK on Oct. 17, 1983.

It would be filmed in St. Louis until summer of 1987, when it moved to New Haven, Conn., and later Manhattan, where it lasted until 2022.

Three years before Oprah, the show, later just called “Sally,” was one of the first audience-participation, issue-driven talk shows hosted by a female.

Playlist: Supergroup

The Traveling Wilburys release debut album “Volume 1”– featuring the single “Handle with Care”; and the band members include Roy Orbison, Bob Dylan, George Harrison, Jeff Lynne, and Tom Petty.

Word: Arthur Miller, who was born on this date in 1915

“We are what we always were in Salem, but now the little crazy children are jangling the keys of the kingdom, and common vengeance writes the law!”

John Proctor in “The Crucible”

Looking ahead:

On TUESDAY: Baseball Playoffs!

MLB postponed the fifth game of the ALDS because of rain Monday in the Bronx. The Cleveland Guardians will now face the New York Yankees on Tuesday, Oct. 18, at 3 p.m. CST on TBS.

This is the last piece of the puzzle, as the San Diego Padres, Philadelphia Phillies and Houston Astros have moved on to the league championship series.


‘Tis the Season:

Not-so-scary Halloween celebration “Boo at the Zoo” tickets on sale

Fun for the whole family, including fabulous decorations throughout the St. Louis Zoo –  Skeleton Soiree, Monster Mash, Pirate Pointe, Haunted Harvest, Coachman’s Junction and a giant cauldron photo opportunity in Fragile Forest.

You can view the crawling and slithering animals at the Herpetarium and Insectarium. Enjoy some fall-themed treats at Zoo restaurants, including Halloween-dipped pretzel sticks, apple cider floats and adult ice cream cocktails for those 21 and older. For an additional fee, enjoy a ride on the Zooline Railroad.

Entertainment, including jugglers, magicians, stilt walkers and more will roam Zoo grounds each event night. On Fridays, Saturdays, and Sundays at 5:30 p.m., catch live stage shows from local entertainers.

Tickets for Boo at the Zoo are now on sale for Oct. 21-23, 24-27 and 28-30

Free for children under age 2.

Your ticket includes admission into Emerson Dinoroarus, Mary Ann Lee Conservation Carousel, Stingrays at Caribbean Cove presented by SSM Health and “Chaos in Wonderland” at the 4D Theater.

For tickets and more information, visit stlzoo.org/boo.

Thank you to our sponsors: SSM Health Cardinal Glennon Children’s Hospital, Wells Fargo, Mid America Chevy Dealers, Caleres, Prairie Farms Dairy.

Halloween Costume Policy

– Family-friendly Halloween costumes are encouraged.

– No scary costumes are permitted.

– Costume appropriateness is up to the discretion of the Zoo.


‘God’s Creatures’ Is A Severe, Chilling Family Drama Set in Irish Town

‘God’s Creatures’ Is A Severe, Chilling Family Drama Set in Irish Town

By Alex McPherson
Brooding, raw, yet ultimately uneven, directors Saela Davis and Anna Rose Holmer’s “God’s Creatures” is dripping with dread-inducing atmosphere and acting talent, led by an excellent Emily Watson.

Set in a coastal Irish fishing town — drenched in fog, dreariness, antiquated ideals, and a heavy sprinkling of impending doom — the film opens with the drowning of a young man. In this community, nobody is taught how to swim, so the villagers aren’t tempted to risk death themselves to rescue someone, a fitting illustration of the stiff norms that have remained for generations.

Aileen (Watson) works as a supervisor at the seafood processing plant (run entirely by women, except for one male manager), preparing oysters and fish caught by men in the village. She lives with her stern husband Con (Declan Conlon) and near-catatonic father-in-law Paddy (Lalor Roddy), who will barely move a muscle only to suddenly slap Aileen in the face, implying a violent past. 

Aileen dutifully goes through the motions — working long hours, quietly conversing with coworkers during smoke breaks, babysitting her daughter Erin’s (Toni O’Rourke) infant child, grabbing an evening drink at the pub — until the day her dearly beloved son, Brian (Paul Mescal), returns from a multi-year trip to Australia. Brian had left Aileen and company unexpectedly, not communicating with the family while overseas.

This left a gaping wound in Aileen’s heart, so his unexpected reappearance fills her with joy; Con and Erin are more ambivalent about Brian’s return. Brian is eager to resume working on his grandfather’s oyster farm, and Aileen has no qualms about stealing supplies from work to support him. In fact, Aileen is willing to sacrifice much to protect her child, even if he turns out to be a far different person than she imagines he is.

Soon enough, troubles arise. Brian is accused of sexual assault by a young woman and family friend named Sarah Murphy (Aisling Franciosi), who works at Aileen’s plant and once had a romantic relationship with Brian years ago. Aileen provides an alibi in court for Brian without a second thought, thus saving him from further investigation. 

This decision, however, gradually eats away at Aileen’s psyche, as she sees Sarah’s subsequent ostracization from the townsfolk, and experiences a crisis of conscience. She’s torn between her maternal instincts and factual reality, slowly but surely recognizing the troubled traditions that control her community, manifesting in both subtle and blunt ways. The title “God’s Creatures” takes an ironic bent as Aileen comes to recognize the harmful dynamics at play, baked into the fabric of the land.

Suffice to say, “God’s Creatures” is quite a downer. A simmering menace persists from beginning to end — largely thanks to impeccable sound design and carefully calibrated performances — rendering this bleak drama practically a horror film. With a muted color palette and stark, wide vistas, Chayse Irvin’s cinematography is fittingly chilly. The score, by Danny Bensi and Saunder Jurriaans, is full of discordant strings and startling percussion, complementing the clamor of oyster shells and the swoosh of lapping waves. 

Like a living, breathing monstrosity, the music builds upon itself as Aileen’s conflict intensifies, incorporating additional elements that, at one point, evoke the feeling of an unseen creature breathing heavily — an omnipresent threat that exerts control over anyone in its grip. Shane Crowley’s screenplay, while occasionally leaning into heavy-handedness, rarely feels out-of-place, its authenticity helped by thick Irish accents. 

Watson is, as ever, absolutely mesmerizing as Aileen, communicating multitudes without uttering a word. Although the film withholds detail of her past and her close bond with Brian, Aileen remains a believably conflicted protagonist. Her initial relief and happiness with her son’s return turns to rash protectiveness, doubt, anger, and instability. Watson sells each aspect of her character’s evolution (or de-evolution), the camera focusing on her during prolonged closeups where we witness the guilt, grief, and fire burning just beneath her stoic facade. 

Mescal’s charismatic screen presence suits the character of Brian, a shifty lad whose banality belies a violent, impulsive heart. Brian acts very differently when he’s being watched from when he’s alone, and Mescal expertly embodies that dichotomy, although the film leaves little doubt to Brian’s culpability. Franciosi almost steals the show, lending haunted gravitas to the role of Sarah, a woman alienated from the only place she’s called home.

Despite excellent fundamentals and ever-timely subject matter, though, Davis and Holmer’s film fails to explore its characters and the world they inhabit with the depth they merit. “God’s Creatures” prizes tone above all else, grounding us in a richly textured setting, yet neglecting to give its inhabitants the same care.

Indeed, Aileen’s grappling with morality does raise pertinent questions about love and loyalty versus truth and justice, but winds up wading through melodramatic waters. It’s a shame that, at arguably the height of her intensity, the film turns away from her, and undercuts both Watson’s performance and the contemplative storytelling that came before. 

In addition, the film’s focus on Aileen’s struggles takes attention away from Sarah’s experiences and the isolation she feels. Aileen is often relegated to observing her from afar, eventually recognizing the role she plays in Sarah’s suffering. This approach, while giving Watson loads of time to showcase her skill as a performer, lessens the emotional heft of Sarah’s story. 

Scenes where Aileen encounters Sarah tap into the insidious ways that casual misogyny and power imbalances manifest themselves, but only on the surface level. One searing monologue by Franciosi at the film’s conclusion alludes to a resilient, scarred, and complex character who deserves more than a few moments to get the spotlight. Davis and Holmer choose to merely acknowledge Sarah’s challenges rather than engage in insightful commentary, especially surrounding her treatment by others, and her own courage and strength despite it. By the time “God’s Creatures” finally centers her narrative, it proves to be too little, too late — deserving of a plot with wider focus, and one less centered on Aileen’s predictable (albeit undeniably well-acted) psychological turmoil.

Still, the formal elements of “God’s Creatures” shine, even when the drama takes jarring turns. This is an icy, chilly ordeal, which leaves a mark once the end credits roll regardless.

Emily Watson

“God’s Creatures” is a 2022 psychological drama co-directed by Saela Davis and Anna Rose Holmer, starring Emily Watson, Paul Mescal and Aisling Franciosi. It is rated R for language, and runs 1 hour, 40 minutes. It opened in select theatres in U.S. on Sept. 30 and is now available to rent through digital platforms. Alex’s Grade: B.

‘Blonde’ Is a Relentless, Redundant Nightmare

‘Blonde’ Is a Relentless, Redundant Nightmare

By Alex McPherson

A grueling, disorienting, and horrific reimagining of the life of Norma Jeane Baker, who became Marilyn Monroe, director Andrew Dominik’s “Blonde” ultimately proves to be a case of excessive, at times exploitative, style over substance.

Based on the novel of the same name by Joyce Carol Oates, “Blonde” isn’t a traditional biopic in any sense, instead plunging viewers into a hallucinatory, David Lynchian hellhole that never lets up for its whopping 2-hour-and-46-minute runtime. Viewers begin with the child Norma Jeane (Lily Fisher, effective in her few scenes), living in Los Angeles with her single, alcoholic, mentally unstable mother, Gladys (Julianne Nicholson), while a fire rages outside in the Hollywood Hills.

Norma Jeane’s absentee father is apparently a bigshot in TinselTown, but she’s never met him, prompting trauma and insecurity that persistently haunt her throughout her life. Gladys, losing her mind and desperate to find him, then nearly drowns Norma Jeane in a bathtub, only to release her at the last second and let her escape to the next-door neighbors.

Flash forward a bit, and Norma Jeane is sent to an orphanage against her will. Flash forward again, and the “Marilyn Monroe” persona has been born, with Ana de Armas portraying our heroine with admirable, if misguided, fervor. Scarred by her horrible childhood, manipulated by devilish studio executives to advance her career, entering one corrosive relationship after another, being frequently underestimated, experiencing drug addiction, and remaining unable to separate her personal life from her public, hyper-sexualized persona, Norma Jeane’s life is tough, to say the least, and draining to watch unfold.  

Indeed, despite Dominik’s stylistic bravado and de Armas’ transformational performance, “Blonde” is difficult to recommend. This is an NC-17 rated film, and Dominik goes all-out depicting Norma Jeane’s abuse by practically everyone surrounding her. It’s too bad that far less attention is given to the character herself, reducing her to a victim sans agency, and robbing her of three-dimensionality that would have lent poignancy to the film’s onslaught of terrors. 

At least de Armas gives her all. A Cuban actor who’s left positive impressions in such films as “Knives Out” and “No Time to Die,” her impression of Norma Jeane’s voice and appearance is uncanny, particularly in Dominik’s painstaking recreations of iconic moments from Norma Jeane’s career.

De Armas’ commitment to the role overshadows the rest of the cast — though Bobby Cannavale and Adrien Brody stand out as Joe DiMaggio and Arthur Miller, respectively. Her portrayal is especially impactful when we witness the moment she quietly shifts from the crumbling Norma Jeane into the confident, alluring Marilyn — a character that she can disappear into, if never remove herself from. 

But although de Armas has the acting chops to explore Norma Jeane’s multifaceted headspace — and the real-life woman’s successes and triumphs amidst the gloom — “Blonde” doesn’t give her much room to delve into her complexities. A romance with Eddy G. Robinson Jr. (Evan Williams) and Charlie Chaplin Jr. (Xavier Samuel) marks one of the only times she actually feels companionship in the entire film, if only briefly and later upended — including a sex scene that seemingly warps and stretches the screen to pretentious effect.

Rather, more often than not, de Armas is reduced to hysterical outbursts and a performance defined by repetition, enduring violence against her (continually) naked body and her mind. Viewers aren’t granted any noteworthy insights into the dark side of Hollywood, being force-fed familiar points of misogyny, sexism, and mental illness. Even with fleeting moments here and there of Norma Jeane getting a chance to voice her opinions and demonstrate her intelligence, “Blonde” reduces her to a one-note, broken husk of a character, putting Dominik’s in-your-face filmmaking at the forefront. 

Speaking of, “Blonde” certainly doesn’t lack artistic creativity, for better and worse. Jumping between different aspect ratios and switching between black-and-white and color photography (seemingly with little reason), Chayse Irvin’s immersive cinematography is complemented by editing that’s alternately, woozy, ethereal, brutally uncompromising, and invasive.

Through this, “Blonde” effectively creates feelings of discomfort, irritability, and shocked hypnotism. The score, by Nick Cave and Warren Ellis, captures a melancholy that hints at the emotion lurking somewhere at the story’s core, begging to be released.

Still, for all the transfixion gleaned from the film’s flourishes, “Blonde” is chock full of scenes that dehumanize, violate, and demean Norma Jeane, bashing viewers over the head with the awful ways she’s treated, as well as the ever-present public eye, full of men whose mouths gape open as if to swallow her whole. From abortions viewed from the perspective of Norma Jeane’s vagina, to an absolutely vile fellatio scene late in the film that juxtaposes a spaceship crashing into the White House with reaching an orgasm, it all just begs the question… Why was this necessary?

And that’s the final takeaway from “Blonde.” Despite individual elements that shine, the overall piece is more confusing and maddening than satisfying, leaving me frustrated thinking of the powerful film that could have been.

Blonde. Ana de Armas as Marilyn Monroe. Cr. Netflix © 2022

“Blonde” is a 2022 drama-fantasy written and directed by Andrew Dominik and starring Ana de Armas, Adrien Brody, Bobby Cannavale, Xavier Samuel, Garret Dillahunt, Julianne Nicholson, and Lily Fisher. It is rated NC-17 for some sexual content and the runtime is 2 hours, 46 minutes. It streams on Netflix beginning Sept. 28, and is in selected theaters Sept. 23 (but not in St. Louis). Alex’s Grade: C- 

Mia Goth Astounds in ‘Pearl,’ Superb Horror Prequel to ‘X’

Mia Goth Astounds in ‘Pearl,’ Superb Horror Prequel to ‘X’

By Alex McPherson

Bolstered by a towering performance from Mia Goth, director Ti West’s “Pearl” is a captivating, upsetting, and idiosyncratic horror drama that rivals the brilliance of “X” while standing on its own as a discomforting character study.

Described as a prequel to West’s “X,” released this spring, “Pearl” takes place in rural Texas during the height of the 1918 Spanish Flu epidemic. A young woman named Pearl (Goth) lives on a homestead with her domineering mother, Ruth (Tandi Wright), and her ailing father (Matthew Sunderland), who cannot move or speak and requires constant attention. Pearl’s husband, Howard, is overseas fighting in the first World War, leaving Pearl confined to the farm with only cows, geese, and one very hungry reptile to keep her company. She dreams of becoming a movie star and leaving her former life behind to chase fame and glory, to Ruth’s disdain. 

But all’s not well in paradise. During the film’s hyper-stylized introduction — complete with a sweeping orchestral score, title cards, and camerawork showcasing an idyllic environment bursting with vivid colors with the sun beaming above (the same farm from “X,” in fact, immediately prompting uneasiness) — Pearl dances before an audience of farm animals… only to be interrupted by a goose who waddles into the barn. She calmly stabs it with a pitchfork and feeds it to her “pet” crocodile in the nearby swamp, as one does.

Not allowed to leave the farm, except to pick up medicine for her father, Pearl nevertheless stops by the cinema in town and becomes enraptured by the dancers on screen. She bumps into the charismatic yet manipulative projectionist (David Corenswet), who insists that she’s got what it takes to be up there one day. Pearl’s sister-in-law, Misty (Emma Jenkins-Purro), stops by with her mother to drop off a roast suckling pig — which Ruth refuses to accept, leaving the gnats to consume it on the front porch — and informs Pearl of tryouts for a local dancing troupe, potentially giving her the chance to finally prove her talent. With her heart racing and Ruth growing increasingly hostile, tensions continue to escalate, reaching a fever pitch that results in copious amounts of blood, sweat, and tears, as Pearl most certainly will not take no for an answer. 

Eschewing the throwback ‘70s thrills of “X,” “Pearl” works as a poignant, legitimately disturbing drama, where viewers are encouraged to understand what drives its troubled heroine to murder, all while encountering three-dimensional characters that live and die in shades of gray (and red).

From the very beginning, West establishes an off-kilter world of juxtaposition and the harmless-turned-sinister. “Pearl” resembles a technicolor dreamscape popping with color and warm hues, belying a dark heart — grafting grotesque displays of violence, mental illness, and the absolute darkest humor onto bucolic surroundings. The glossy haze of Old Hollywood combines with sparkles of Pearl’s demented edges — lurid fever-dream hallucinations, victims’ faces reappearing unexpectedly — to chilling effect.

The true star of “Pearl,” though, is Goth (also a producer and co-writer), who imbues a devastating sense of humanity into the character — everything always seems genuine, from heartbreak to fearsome outbursts. Pearl, despite her exaggerated actions, still feels like a grounded human being, held back by her parents and destructive proclivities, attempting to seize a moment to break free from her restrictive world and essentially be reborn. Goth is astonishing, conjuring feelings of sorrow and disquietude in equal measure. One six-minute-plus monologue near the finale, for example, is one of the best acting showcases of 2022 thus far. Viewers witness Pearl experience an unpredictable storm of emotions, emerging as broken and as frightening as ever. Indeed, West isn’t afraid to plant the camera for extended dialogue-driven scenes, where viewers observe her transformation from jovial and upbeat to hurt and volatile first-hand. It’s both dreadfully suspenseful and darkly funny. 

The side characters are also given unexpected depth. Ruth, a German immigrant who’s had to sacrifice to provide for the family (caring for her sick husband, who she can never abandon, and guarding against the virus raging everywhere), is weathered by trauma — projecting her insecurities onto Pearl, while also being unsure how to ultimately keep her under control. One fraught dinner sequence in particular, largely lit by flashes of lightning, positions her as a villain — yet, here, again, “Pearl” eerily subverts expectations by putting us in Pearl’s headspace and breaking with a thornier reality. 

Sunderland does so much with his eyes alone as Pearl’s father — a man imprisoned by illness, unwillingly trapping others to be guardians, and existing at the whims of their crumbling psyches. Jenkins-Purro is similarly strong as Misty, a poor soul too naive and clueless for her own good. Corenswet brings both a charm and sly malevolence to the unnamed projectionist with questionable intentions.

Like with “X,” West interrogates ideas of how ambition, youth, and delusion can warp and fragment, as well as the connection between sex and violence. Sex becomes another facet of Pearl’s extreme rebellion against her “world” and everyone within it, paired with vicious carnage.

Although the last moments leave a few too many unanswered questions, “Pearl” is brilliant for its empathy, scares, stylization, and top-notch acting all around. It’s a different beast than “X,” but even more memorable, and I can’t wait to see how this trilogy concludes.

Mia Goth as “Pearl”

“Pearl” is a 2022 horror movie directed by Ti West and starring Mia Goth, Matthew Sunderland, David Corenswet, Tandi Wright, and Emma Jenkins-Purro. It is rated R for some strong violence, gore, strong sexual content and graphic nudity and runtime is ` hour, 43 minutes. It opened in theaters on Sept. 16. Alex’s Grade: A+

‘Three Thousand Years of Longing’ Brims With Imagination, But Can’t Stick the Landing

‘Three Thousand Years of Longing’ Brims With Imagination, But Can’t Stick the Landing

By Alex McPherson

Wildly creative and packed with fascinating ideas, director George Miller’s “Three Thousand Years of Longing” is uneven, yet never less than intriguing.

Based on the short story  “The Djinn in the Nightingale’s Eye” by A.S. Byatt, the film centers around Alithea Binnie (Tilda Swinton), an all-business-no-pleasure narratologist who travels to Istanbul to give a presentation on storytelling. Alithea has convinced herself that she’s perfectly content being immersed in her work without much of a social life to speak of.

Additionally, Alithea sees visions of spirits from time to time — one older gent, clad in a white robe, angrily floats toward her during her talk and she promptly faints, for example — but blames the phenomenon on her imagination. After purchasing an antique bottle at a bazaar, she finds that she’s actually in possession of a Djinn (Idris Elba), who emerges as a hulking figure, complete with pointy ears and golden dust, that barely fits in Alithea’s hotel room. The Djinn, soon shrinking down in size, is a stoic, contemplative, and world-weary being that needs Alithea’s help.

Alithea learns that she must let the Djinn fulfill three wishes (her heart’s desire) to grant his freedom. Unfortunately for the Djinn, Alithea doesn’t have anything to ask for— her “desire” has been repressed by cynicism and a solitary lifestyle that she insists suits her just fine. She’s also highly skeptical of the Djinn’s intentions. In order to prove himself, the Djinn proceeds to outline how he became trapped in the bottle, and presents three subsequent stories of wishes gone wrong. 

It all begins with a love triangle involving the Djinn, the Queen of Sheba (Aamito Lagum), and the vengeful King Solomon (Nicolas Mouawad), who casts the fateful curse on the Djinn to take Sheba for himself. We’re then transported back to the 15th- and 16th-century Ottoman Empire in tales of magic, greed, madness, cutthroat machinations, and ridiculously bad luck, before one last story of the Djinn meeting a beautiful, intelligent Turkish merchant named Zefir (Burcu Gölgedar), and the turbulent bond that followed. Back in the hotel room, Alithea’s emotional barriers begin to weaken, and love might be in the air.

“Three Thousand Years of Longing” is nothing if not imaginative, coming from the mind that created the “Mad Max” and “Happy Feet” franchises. Miller’s direction remains as energetic, out-there, and distinctive as ever, but the film remains irritatingly distant. There’s plenty to think about regarding the power of stories to connect, enlighten, and give meaning to our lives; however, the film’s illustration of that idea lacks punch — a theme in need of stronger characters and tighter pacing.

Fortunately, even though “Three Thousand Years of Loving” never achieves the swooning heights it aspires to, Miller presents such a bizarre, unorthodox vision that it stays engaging throughout. The film’s strengths lie in those aforementioned flashbacks, complete with violence, treachery, jealousy, heartache, and heartbreak, each highlighting different morals relating to power and desire. Cinematographer John Seale captures sweeping, vibrantly photographed palaces and their surrounding landscapes. This includes surreal touches like an instrument that plays itself, a sinister figure whose head erupts into spiders, and first-person-POV shots of the Djinn as he wispily floats throughout winding chambers, trying to lure someone back to the bottle he’s stuck in. It’s difficult to become attached to anyone specific in these sequences — largely due to Elba’s pervasive narration — but they’re still inventive, possessing Miller’s characteristic flair for the idiosyncratic and darkly comedic.

The happenings of Alithea and the Djinn are far less interesting. Swinton does a fine job portraying a reserved, closed-off individual, but her arc seems rushed, coming across as abrupt and awkward in the final stretch. Since most of the film takes place in flashbacks, the present-day drama is sidelined, and Alithea’s evolution isn’t given the attention it needed to earn the heavy-handed payoff. Elba is typically great, but his dry, stoic line readings (in keeping with his character) aren’t the most dynamic or attention-grabbing. His chemistry with Swinton is similarly hamstrung by the screenplay, making their romance difficult to become enraptured by.

All that being said, “Three Thousand Years of Longing” is worth a look for Miller’s unconventional narrative and visual flair, despite a resolution that left me wanting — longing, in fact — for something greater. 

“Three Thousand Years of Longing” is a 2022 fantasy-drama-romance directed by George Miller and starring Tilda Swinton and Idris Elba. It is rated R for some sexual content, graphic nudity, and brief violence and runs 1 hour, 48 minutes. It opened in theaters Aug. 26. Alex’s Grade: B-