The Latest Reviews For The Language French (Page 5)

Once Upon a Time… Continue Reading →

Twenty years after its sensational release, Jean-Pierre Jeunet’s Amélie has become synonymous with words like “twee” and “whimsy.” Thanks to a popular bit on My Brother, My Brother, and Me, you can’t even mention the film in certain company. Certainly not without risking being audience to a long, dreary recitation of the original McElroy goof by your guy friends who think a movie discussion is some kind of open mic night. But jokesters, cynics, and doubters aside, there’s a reason why 20 years on, Amélie is still considered a masterpiece. More than a modern fairy tale in an Instagram version of Paris, the film remains a tribute to the lonely outcasts, the hopeless romantics, and a celebration of small pleasures.   Continue Reading →

Even after the umpteenth re-watch, I feel I’m only starting to scratch the surface of Paul Thomas Anderson’s The Master. Initial reviews and reactions gravitated towards the film’s relationship with Scientology and its co-founder L. Ron Hubbard. In the decade since, this fixation has dissipated, depriving confused viewers of an easy handhold while scaling this towering cinematic achievement. Make no mistake: Philip Seymour Hoffman’s Lancaster Dodd is a character clearly inspired by Hubbard. But labeling The Master “a movie about Scientology” is about as silly as thinking you can cure leukemia by accessing past lives.  Continue Reading →

Occupied France. 1941. The egomaniacal, romantic SS Colonel Von Brückner (Daniel Bernhardt) and his supposed French mistress Marie (Nina Bergman) are ambushed by the Resistance on their way to secret away gold pilfered from Von Brückner’s superiors. They survive. Continue Reading →

With her abuser out of her life, one would think it’d be easier for Julie (Honor Swinton Byrne) to move from day to day. In some ways, it is; she’s no longer directly in the clutches of Anthony’s (Tom Burke) patterns of insults, flattery, and disposal. He’s now dead as a result of his drug addiction. She, however, still lives with his memory. She discusses him with her psychologist (Gail Ferguson) just as often as others refer to his passing as a “loss.” But he’s still there: in her mind, in her health, in her art. Now, in The Souvenir Part II, Julie is finalizing her graduation film for school, repurposing and compartmentalizing her emotions into her work. Continue Reading →

Remember when the Saved by the Bell reboot hit small screens? How it stunned critics and viewers alike by being a delightful, intelligent show? One that managed to both send up its previous incarnation and deliver the goods in its own right? Head of the Class is the show we were all anticipating. Continue Reading →

Five of the Chicago International Film Festival's fiction narrative features find truth through craft and performance. The CIFF films considered here disavow any easy distinctions between fiction and nonfiction. All five of these films reach profound emotional, spiritual, and/or systemic truths by adding performance and cinematic layers. The House of Snails begins to unwind the line by playing with fiction, folklore, and reality. Spencer builds on this by making a folkloric fiction about a true subject. The Tsugua Diaries challenges the boundaries between fiction and documentary. Acts of Love goes further and collapses them altogether. Finally, A Cop Movie politicizes these strategies and shows how they can expose ugly systemic truths. Continue Reading →

This review is part of our coverage of the 2021 Chicago International Film Festival. Continue Reading →

To speak of No Time to Die is to speak of what came before it. Of course, that sounds obvious in theory; the Daniel Craig era of 007 comes to an end here. They lightly tied into each other until Spectre drunkenly tried and failed at deepening the mythology. While the quality of the films varied, at least they were all distinct. It's been fifteen years and five movies -- now it all comes to a head, the stakes ostensibly high and the emotions primed to be deeper. And yet, against all odds, Cary Joji Fukunaga's offering to the franchise is derivative enough of its most recent predecessors to fumble conceptually and concretely. Continue Reading →

In the opening scene of Benedetta, a young girl stops along the road to pray to a shrine of the Virgin Mary. A group of bandits ambushes her and her family, nobles who are well-off but by no means excessively affluent. Benedetta curses the thieves as they snatch her mother’s gold necklace, promising that the Holy Mother will haunt them for the rest of their days. Suddenly, a small bird flies from a nearby tree and shits in the eye of the bandit leader. The men laugh and toss the jewelry back to Benedetta’s mother, preferring not to risk it. Still, we’re left wondering – was this divine intervention? Or just a case of well-timed bird poop?   Continue Reading →

(This review is part of our coverage of the 2021 Reeling International LGBTQ+ Film Festival.) Continue Reading →

Despite its top shelf cast & capable direction, this drama about tourists behaving badly is nothing we haven't seen before. The Forgiven is a story about fantastically rich white people behaving badly in an “exotic” location, told by slightly less rich and hopefully better intentioned white people. So soon after HBO’s The White Lotus, it might be tempting to call this a new trend. But it’s probably more accurate to consider it business as usual.  This is not to say that it’s a bad film. The Forgiven is thoroughly competent in its writing, direction, and performances. It also happens to be — from its first scenes and the Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf?-esque dynamic it establishes between its protagonists, to its ending which is  strongly foreshadowed to the point of telegraphing — an obvious one.  Continue Reading →

Julia Ducourneau's followup to her stunning debut Raw makes for brutal, beautiful, brilliant body horror. (This review is part of our coverage of the 2021 Toronto International Film Festival.) Titane begins with the pluck of banjo strings and an extreme closeup of chrome. It’s a clash that’s jarring and compelling: the earthy, fire-and-brimstone howl of David Eugene Edwards’s take on the American folk standard “Wayfaring Stranger” set against an almost voyeuristic tour through a car’s inner workings. Continue Reading →

Melanie Laurent's adaptation of Victoria Mas' novel about a young woman's incarceration in a cruel asylum is disappointingly flat. With its literary pedigree and reasonably lavish trappings, The Mad Women's Ball wants to be seen as a sweeping and powerful drama that examines the subjugation that women suffered in the past in large part because of their gender while suggesting that too little has changed between the late 1800s and today. In practice, it feels more like a period version of those old Women-In-Prison movies that Roger Corman produced back in the early 1970s that blended obvious exploitation elements (Nudity! Sadism! Sex! Violence!) with unexpected moments of satire and social commentary and, depending on what up-and-coming filmmaker was at the helm, perhaps even a sense of genuine cinematic style. Unfortunately, this effort from writer-director Melanie Laurent is a well-appointed, well-meaning but ultimately misfired take on an all-too-familiar narrative. Eugenie Clery (Lou de Laage) is a feisty young woman rebelling against the restrictions placed on her because of her gender. This causes a great deal of consternation for the members of her well-to-do family. And yet, despite her sneaking off to the smoke-filled cafes of Montmartre or to attend Victor Hugo's funeral, it is when Eugenie claims to be able to speak to spirits that her father elects to do what was too often done to women who refused to politely follow society's conventions—commit her to the Salpetriere Asylum.Salpetriere, a "hospital" run by noted real-life French neurologist Jean-Martin Charcot, swiftly proves to be little more than a warehouse in which the patients are treated for their alleged maladies with a variety of brutish quackery. Continue Reading →

As sparse as it is specific, Nia DaCosta’s Candyman feels like falling into a nightmare. It has the context, but the context feels increasingly shifted. It has the gravity, but the weight at hand seems to fall onto its audience in slow motion. It has a sense of remove but also a sense of intimacy, and as the picture develops, those schisms manage to lean into one another. Bernard Rose’s 1992 original was about the outsider looking in. DaCosta’s, on the other hand, is about the insider being forcibly removed from himself, and it’s a film as attuned to its own legacy as it is the legacy that’s been hoisted upon it. Continue Reading →

In an environment where film festivals are struggling to figure out how much access to give both attendees and press, The Montreal-based Fantasia International Film Festival has always been a godsend of genre offerings, especially for American press who want to cover virtually. Here we are with the 25th edition of the fest, and the first few days' worth of films have been well worth it. We'll be covering all month long, so keep an eye out for these dispatches as we go. This year's fest opened with writer/director Julien Knafo's absurdist zombie comedy Brain Freeze, in which an affluent island community off the coast of Quebec suddenly falls prey to an infestation of zombies -- created by the mutant fertilizer from a Monsanto-like agro conglomerate meant to keep the rich golfing all year long. These zombies don't necessarily lust for brains; they just want to bite and murder and spread their numbers. The only folks who don't fall prey, of course, are a slothful teenage boy named André (Iani Bédard), who drinks nothing but Diet Coke, and his baby sister Annie. They run into a paranoiac survivalist security guard named Dan (Roy Dupuis), who hauls around his zombified daughter (Marianne Fortier) in search of a cure. Zombie movies are never short on social commentary, and Knafo certainly has plenty of targets here, from the uncaring companies who do anything to hide accountability to the idleness of the rich and the obliviousness of smartphone-addicted kids. But that obviousness sometimes get in the way of more sophisticated laughs or thrills, Knafo's approach sometimes proving too dry for the Shaun of the Dead-level gags the film's clearly going for. Some jokes work great -- I'll never not laugh anytime someone has to use a severed hand to unlock a phone -- but it's in service to some pretty creaky, unoriginal commentary. (One subplot involving a far-right radio host goes particularly nowhere apart from serving as an unnecessary Greek chorus. And don't get me started on the mute, sexy twin lady corporate assassins.) Continue Reading →

As if chomping at the bit to show its true self, Annette immediately disrobes. Director Leos Carax, off-screen during the opening credits, tells the audience to stay silent. Audio tracks spray over shots of Los Angeles and, in a studio, he asks his musicians, “So, may we start?” He’s now speaking not to us but Ron Mael and Russell Mael of Sparks. Both of them share a story by credit, the latter having written the screenplay, and already, the film has dived feet first into its own joke. But Carax’s latest doesn’t just strip itself naked. It takes off its own skin, as a rock opera and as a movie. Continue Reading →

In Tom McCarthy’s Stillwater, Matt Damon wears a baseball hat. He notches his sunglasses, a pair of knockoff Oakleys, on the brim of his cap; the rest of his body is covered by an assortment of denim, flannel, plaid and Carhartt products. These costume choices are the movie’s way of telling us that Damon’s character, Bill Baker, is a “regular guy.” Unfortunately, outside of his wardrobe, there’s nothing that really defines Bill, and even less that makes Stillwater worth watching.  Continue Reading →

In the last decade, there have been numerous shitty attempts to replicate the success of the Marvel Studios formula, but Suicide Squad (2016) may be the worst of the worst. Writer/director David Ayer’s dark and gritty tone clashed with the pop music-heavy trailers, marketing that included songs already used by – and meant to remind viewers of – Guardians of the Galaxy. In the end, the studio hired that same trailer company to re-cut the movie, which was released into theaters as an incomprehensible mess. Noticeably missing a “2” in its title, The Suicide Squad is essentially a 200 million dollar do-over. It’s the movie Warner Brothers should’ve made five years ago.  Continue Reading →

The phenomenon of Disney adapting its own theme park rides to the silver screen will never not be fascinating to me. It's the ultimate act of corporate synergy: watch Disney movies, come to Disneyland to experience them in real life, come ride our rides, then watch the movie based on the rides. What's even more fascinating are the ones that work: Gore Verbinski's Pirates of the Caribbean pulled off a minor miracle in adapting a pretty groan-worthy theme park ride into a vibrant, Errol Flynn-like adventure. And in an attempt to recapture that kind of heat, we now have Jungle Cruise, which gets points for referencing the right things, even as it refuses to reinvent the wheel. Continue Reading →

While author Jojo Moyes doesn’t confine herself to the romance genre, her works do share a rosy bloom. Light-heartedness and melodrama and historical settings and yes, love, all abound. So without even reading it, you’ll probably have some idea of what to expect from the newest adaptation of her work, The Last Letter from Your Lover. There’s the French Riviera and 1960s fashion and mystery and a torrid love affair—the works. And director Augustine Frizzell doesn’t seem too interested in taking this tale off the tracks.In short? It’s your classic Netflix weepie, though perhaps a little more star-studded than usual. Felicity Jones (Rogue One) stars as Ellie, a modern London reporter with a bad case of heartbreak and a crappy attitude. While researching a basic assignment, she stumbles upon an old love letter that’s so intoxicating she becomes determined to track down who it belongs to and what happened to the couple in question. In between scenes of Ellie’s search, we see the romance play out. Jennifer (Shailene Woodley, Big Little Lies) is a 1960s housewife with a husband who doesn’t seem to know or care that she exists. So when she meets dashing reporter Anthony (Callum Turner), it isn’t long before the two become swept up in each other and fall madly in love. But you won’t know if their romance ends in tragedy or happily ever after until Ellie gets to the bottom of it. Continue Reading →