I want to share with other movie fans those amazing films that get under your skin and stay with you for days: the scary ones, the funny ones; the ones that get you thinking.
With a background in creative writing, photography, psychology and neuroscience, I’ll be focusing on dialogue, what makes a great story, if the film has beautiful creative cinematography, the soundtrack and any movie that successfully scratches the surface of our existence.
My aim is to always be searching for that ultimate movie, to share what I’ve found to be interesting (whether it be a great soundtrack, a great director or links to other information of interest) and to give an honest review without too much fluff.
BAppSci in Psychology/Psychophysiology;
Grad Dip Creative Arts and
Post Grad Dip in Creative Writing.
Founder of GoMovieReviews.
Starring: Ardís Hrönn Egilsdottir, Sveinn Ólafur Gunnarsson, Hinrik Olafsson, borsteinn Bachmann.
Icelandic with English subtitles
The Co-op grocery store.
The back-stop of the community.
In true farming fashion, Inga (Ardís Hrönn Egilsdottir) pulls a calf from a cow’s womb.
The calf looks up. Healthy.
Inga sits back, proud.
This is a woman who takes pride in her work. Not pride, exactly. Appreciation, of the everyday.
Her husband, Reynir (Hinrik Olafsson) snuggles close to her as Inga works in bed on her laptop, writing.
Seems like an ordinary life – a farm in The County, surrounded by snow on heather; there’s tractors and drinking while watching the game.
Then it starts.
First with a man from the Co-op bailing up a painter for buying his paint from elsewhere.
Then Inga wonders why they can’t buy fertilizer cheaper from a different distributor.
Why should the Co-op decide where they purchase their goods?
Why?
Because the Co-op will take the land from under the farmers if there’s debt.
And how do farmers get out of debt when they’re forced to pay more from the Co-Op?
They can’t.
It’s what Inga calls, ‘The Co-op mafia.’
And she’s not afraid to post articles about it.
The County is a slow burn drama (not really a comedy) that follows Inga as she uncovers the wrong that so many others in the community turn a blind eye to because of the hold one company can have when they’re the only option.
But there’s more to the story then a bent company.
This is a slow tear tracing a cheek as the snow falls.
This is about grief. And letting go.
I like the message here and seeing the strength of character – a woman standing up for what’s right; to free herself.
Quiet in the telling, this is a countryside drama without any thrills, just a good quality character study without flash because Inga wouldn’t need it.
Produced by: Bruno Wagner, Bertrand Faivre, Philippe Bober Martin Gschlacht, Jessica Hausner, Gerardine O’Flynn
Cinematography: Martin Gschlacht
Starring: Emily Beecham, Ben Wishaw, Kerry Fox, Kit Connor, David Wilmot, Phénix Brossard, Sebastian Hülk and Lindsay Duncan.
Plant breeder, Alice (Emily Beecham) has genetically engineered a plant that releases a scent to make its owner happy.
She names the mood lifting plant after her son: Little Joe.
Alice has a good relationship with Joe (Kit Connor); a typical teenager, ‘Yep, whatever.’
Until he breathes in the scent of the happy plant. Because once you breath in the scent of Little Joe, you become infected. You become, a different person.
That’s what Bella (Kerry Fox) says. A plant breeder for over twenty years.
But she’s crazy. She has to be crazy to think a plant can change someone.
The premise of the film, superficially, seems a stretch. But the way the story unfolds leads with the spacious feeling of a secret. I wasn’t sure where I was being led but there were a lot of red flags. Literally: the red font in the opening credits, the red diffuse light, the red hair, red car, red cherry, all leading back to the red flower of the plant named, Little Joe.
That feeling of a secret, of a quiet other world is enhanced by the soundtrack, the music written by Japanese composer, Teiji Ito. There’s this high-pitched whistle, like the plants are communicating amongst the sound of a flute floating, building with drums that flourish, marking steps in the story that are guided by science.
The strangeness of the idea works because the characters are scientists talking about science – the genetically engineered plants created using virus vectors that release oxytocin.
Bella makes the point that because the plant is sterile – has to be made sterile, because it’s genetically engineered and there’s a risk of the plant running wild in nature, and of course the commercial aspect – it’s natural for the plant to want to reproduce. So, imagine a plant where a virus vector mutates to not only cause happiness, but to work towards reproducing itself.
Oxytocin, is otherwise known as the mother hormone because it’s released into the blood stream in response to love and childbirth, to create a bond.
You look after the plant, you feed it, keep it warm, talk to it, and Little Joe rewards you with happiness.
‘Knock on wood.’
Says Alice during a therapy session.
‘What worries you?’ asks her psychotherapist (Lindsay Duncan).
Knock on wood.
Which of your children will you choose?
The film follows Alice as she navigates her desire to work versus the love she has for Joe, her feelings towards fellow scientist, Chris (Ben Wishaw) and her fear that the plant she’s created is in fact changing people.
Is it fear that distorts how she sees the world? Or is she finally able to see what she’s really afraid of?
What is it that she secretly wishes for?
The film scratches at those secret desires using those feelings as a vehicle to hide the agenda of the story. Like the agenda of a new entity that wants to reproduce but can’t, so uses the happy hormone to replicate, to be cared for.
It’s clever. But the tone of film isn’t about being clever; it’s just different. And interesting, with a subtle flavour of the disconcerting.
Starring: Anthony Ramos, Corey Hawkins, Lesley Grace, Melissa Barrera, Olga Merediz, Daphine Rubin-Vega, Gregory Diaz IV, Stephanie Beatriz, Dascha Polanco and Jimmy Smits.
‘I’m home.’
It’s three days until the blackout. And it’s hot in Washington Heights.
Everyone in the block is fanning themselves as they dream their sueñito: little dream.
Bodega owner Usnavi (Anthony Ramos) dreams of running his father’s beach bar back in the Dominican Republic.
Vanessa (Melissa Barrera) dreams of becoming a fashion designer.
In The Heights is colourful and full of soul, hope and love as everyone fights for their own little dream. And there’s singing. The entire movie is singing.
I know that it’s a musical. I’m not saying I completely ignored the advertising. But when I say the entire movie, I mean there’s signing about everything: coffee, fireworks, all the dialogue.
It took me a good long while to warm up because it was all a bit overwhelming and at the start all I could think was, can you please stop singing!
Then Nina (Lesley Grace), returned-from-college, and boyfriend-left-behind, Ben (Corey Hawkins) start with these absolutely pristine, stunning voices and it all kinda started to click.
The story has layers: the classic making a move when it’s too late, looking everywhere but what’s in front; there’s change and dealing with that change, the struggle to keep working everyday, just to make ends meet; and how some take a run at their dream only to realise it’s not what they really want at all.
Sometimes it’s just about adding details to hold dignity.
Aunt to everyone in the block, Abula Claudia takes the time to share the hardship of her mother travelling to America, to work as a maid, who covered her red worked hands with beautiful velvet gloves because it felt nice to wear those gloves. She would create something special by stitching intricate patterns into cloth. To hold dignity in the little things.
And this detail translates into the film itself, a musical not just for show but surprise with all those extra flourishes in the choreography and blending of animation into a scene or to dance on the side of a building to tilt the world, to have bolts of cloth unravel, up in the sky while running so fast underneath. All these details gave this musical its own dignity.
I admit, I am not a fan of musicals, especially when the characters sing about what they’re doing from one moment to next. But there’s real beauty here, with just a touch of magic.
Executive Producer: Christopher Clements, Carolyn Hepburn, Julie Goldman
Featuring as Themselves: Sergio as the Spy, Romulo as the Private Detective, and the Residents of the Nursing Home: Berta “Bertita” Ureta, Marta Olivares, Petronila “Petita” Abarca, Rubira Olivares, Zoila González.
Spanish (Chilean) with English subtitles.
“Elderly man needed. Between 80-90 years old.”
Job: spying on old folks and staff in a nursing home for three months.
Well, to report back about target, Sophia Perez because her daughter is concerned that Sophia’s being mistreated.
It took me a moment to realise the film was a documentary as, The Mole Agent begins with this light-hearted tone of jazzy soundtrack featuring classic moments of eighty-plus-year-olds being taught to work mobile phones; the successful candidate, 83-year-old Sergio being shown how to call via Facetime, leave voicemail messages via WhatsApp to make his, ‘Deliveries’ or pass information to private investigator Romulo to then translate back to the client.
The older generation tying to figure mobile phones always leads to some amusing moments.
But Sergio gets it, kinda.
It was when the cameras filming the documentary were shown via a mobile camera as Sergio’s being taught to use the device that the film turns from comedy spy-movie to documentary.
Then we see Sergio enter the nursing home, one resident seen holding her walker with one hand, a hose to water the garden in the other and I realise this is a different kind of documentary.
Sergio begins his mission:
‘Did you meet the new man?’ One resident asks another.
Sergio causes quite a stir. He’s lucid. And a gentleman.
Director Maite Alberdi states that the team got authorisation from the nursing home with the understanding that the film was a documentary about the elderly (not following an unknown ‘spy’ reporting back to a private detective everyday while being filmed by the crew).
The production team were given permission to film for three months with 300 hours of material captured, plus the material filmed by Sergio himself using a spy pen – very clever, if not a little obvious. Particularly when other residents try to take the pen from his shirt pocket.
So the cameras are seen in the film and explained to the residents with the line about a documentary about the elderly so when new resident Sergio enters, it’s only natural the crew would take interest in the most recent addition.
At one point a resident sitting out in the sun points out to another gran, ‘They’re supposed to be filming a movie, not spying on us.’
But Sergio manages to continue his investigation about the treatment of Mrs Perez without getting busted.
There are many sweet moments: the thieving Marta with her quick hands, always asking when her mother’s going to take her home; there’s the poet Petita reciting her beautiful thoughts, the random resident cats and the surprise birthday celebrations.
There’s Berta who has a crush on Sergio saying she would consider giving God her virginity. Through her future husband (Sergio).
But realising the film is documentary and not a spy comedy, although there are some funny moments, makes the film that much sadder.
The Mole Agent is like a homage to the isolated and lonely elderly, left and abandoned by their families.
And the depth of sadness felt by these old folks as they try to buck-up and be positive but are really grieving about their lives lost in sacrifice to children who never visit them… It’s a bit of a heart-breaker.
Over time, instead of spying on the old folks, Sergio befriends them. And they absolutely love him for it: ‘Thank-you for the company you give us,’ says Zoila.
Even the camera crew were missed, ‘and we missed them!’ The crew reports.
The audience is shown how life is lived in these homes, getting to see behind the closed doors as the cameras become part of the landscape.
The Mole Agent is sweet and very sad; completely different to what I was expecting and truly unique.
When Alberdi was asked, “What do you hope audiences take away and learn from The Mole Agent?”
Alberdi replies, “I would like people who watch this movie to leave the movie theatre wanting to call their parents or grandparents. It is an invitation to look within yourself and ask what you can do better.”
Story by: James Wan, David Leslie Johnson-McGoldrick
Starring: Vera Farmiga, Patrick Wilson, Sterling Jerins, Julian Hilliard, Ruairi O’Connor, Bonnie Aarons, John Noble, Eugenie Bondurant, Sarah Catherine Hook.
“If you gaze long into an abyss, the abyss also gazes into you.” -Friedrich Nietzsche.
Based on a true story.
July 18, 1981. Lorraine (Vera Farmiga) and Ed (Patrick Wilson), priest and the Glatzel family keep vigil over eight-year-old, David (Julian Hilliard): a young kid. Possessed.
‘I just can’t remember one quite like this,’ says Ed, as the film opens with all the drama of an exorcist.
Set in Brookfield, The Devil Made Me Do It follows the possessed rather than the origin of a demon, giving this third instalment of, The Conjuring series, a different tone.
Here, there’s a hint of the courtroom, with Arne (Ruairi O’Connor), the boyfriend of David’s sister, charged with First Degree Murder and facing the death penalty; Arne’s defence, ‘Not guilty by reason of demonic possession.’
Enter Ed and Lorraine with the interesting premise of swearing to God before giving evidence an argument of: if there’s acknowledgement of God, why not the Devil?
The film is built around a real case, with recordings of the exorcism played-out with the rolling credits. Creepy. Probably the creepiest part of the film.
Not to say there weren’t scary bits – there’s still moments of Lorraine traveling through to an other world as she follows her visions making contact with the source of evil. Made even scarier when she realises the contact goes both ways.
‘Being brave doesn’t mean you’re not scared,’ a comment made by Arne to young David before possession turns him into a killer.
There’s certainly some dark themes here, but I have to say the horror in this instalment lacks the same impact as the previous Conjuring films.
And the darkness here is offset by the ever-resilient love story between Ed and Lorraine, ‘My home is here with him,’ says Lorraine about Ed.
There’s also the young love between the accused and girlfriend, Debbie (Sarah Catherine Hook).
So there’s more of a dramatic tone, somewhat humanising the horror. Which for me took away some of the edge to those scares – rather than putting more weight behind the characters.
Not sure why. Maybe I just didn’t believe the young love between Arne and Debbie and the whole standing by her man.
And somehow the foundation of this instalment, with the court case and recordings seemed less believable. How’s that for irony.
But all I can do is review how the film hits me – and it hits OK with more emphasis on the relationship between Ed and Lorraine making the film a balance of love story and horror, for me, diluting the impact of the scares.
Starring: Jung Min Hwang, Jung Jae Lee, Jeong Min Park.
Korean with English subtitles.
‘You don’t need to go this far.’
Deliver Us From Evil is the sort of gritty crime-thriller I hope to come across and will be going on my, ‘Best Thriller Movies,’ recommendation list.
Starting in Tokyo, In-nam (Jung Min Hwang) is an assassin for hire.
He has one last job, then he’s done.
‘You got a job. A big one.’
Then it’s time to dip his toes into the ocean.
In-nam doesn’t look like a knife-wielding assassin. But when there’re shots fired in the dark, we see his blood splattered face – shh… shh… he says, as the life drains from his target.
Cut to Bangkok and the kidnapping of a young nine-year-old girl.
His daughter.
Enter Ray-The-Butcher (Jung Jae Lee). Blood brother to his last target. A man In-nam should have killed a long time ago. A man who won’t stop.
In-nam is an assassin with a history. He doesn’t get to just leave.
The story has several threads chasing In-nam (it really does feel like he’s hunted by the narrative): he wants to retire, he’s running to escape his past and people with scores to settle; but more than anything, he wants to save his daughter.
He makes contact with people in Bangkok, leading to lady-boy Yui (Jeong Min Park), his guide. So there’s all the action of the backstory of his daughter’s kidnapping while In-nam and now Yui are chased by this mad-dog gangsta, The Butcher.
It’s non-stop set on the streets of Bangkok all captured by cinematographer Kyeong Pyo Dp Hong (he was nominated for an Academy Award for his work on, Parasite) – non-stop action filmed using a stop motion technique so the hand-to-hand combat in hotel hallways or the confined space of a lift are all captured in detail for the audience to appreciate.
And then there’s the scenery from Japan to Korea to Thailand with the film captured in Bangkok immediately recognisable with the heat of burnt orange streets and a machine gun fight from the back of a took-took.
The film isn’t this superficial or flat feeling killing spree – there’s also these moments of humanity: the sweetness of a young girl and the assassin with dead eyes coming alive to save his daughter.
I couldn’t look away from the visceral carnage yet got teary because there’s a good story at the foundation of all the action.
And there’s care taken with the filming: a fleeting shadow, the slowing of a scene to the jolt of a car crash. There’s nothing held back except holding off from a complete gore-fest so I was able to keep watching – a fine line between gross and gritty artfully kept so torture, stabbing and child organ farming are all part of the story but instead of sickening, the grit adds to the suspense.
Brutal, but if you’re a fan of a gritty crime-thriller, you’re in for a treat.
‘Keep listening,’ signs Regan (Millicent Simmonds), because, A Quiet Place Part II is about the children left, the sons and daughter walking in the footsteps of their father (John Krasinski) so the sequel is a continuation of the previous story, to go, “deeper”: the term John Krasinski (writer and director) used to best describe Part II in the Q&A following the preview screening.
It’s hard not to walk into the cinema with sky high expectations after being blown away by the surprisingly taunt suspense yet moving original (A Quiet Place (2018) got 4.5/5 from me, see review here).
And my expectations were met.
Because the tone and feeling are in the same realm but instead of the surprise of family drama amongst the thrill of surviving a monster invasion – Part II is more than just surviving, this is about hope.
Instead of that linear unfolding of story (remember the nail?!), the suspense here is crushing as the family separates to survive: ‘You got this, you have everything you need,’ Evelyn (Emily Blunt) tells her son, Marcus (Noah Jupe), hand to chest – breathe.
And by separating the characters the film multiplies the number of intense situations. Just waiting, waiting, for that next scare, that hum in the background building to suddenly snap.
I don’t want to give too much away but there’s some clever shifts in time here, seamless, as Marcus remembers Day 1. The invasion.
I wasn’t expecting the father, Lee (John Krasinski) to be back but what a great way to reintroduce the world by going back to the beginning.
There’s that absolute silence that again invites the audience to lean in, to then jump (there are so many jumps!) with explosive action, the audience gasping and twittering as the monsters prowl, purr and claw people apart.
Jumping forward to Day 474. It gets tense.
John went on to say the original was written as a family drama that just happened to be a genre film. That family drama is what made it for me (as well as the suspense, play with sound, story, etc). The father character and the family unit was just so well played the impact still resonates.
So to continue with the family unit but now changed was good but different.
There’s the introduction of friend and neighbour, Emmet (Cillian Murphy).
John describes his character as morally ambiguous and an anchor for the story.
Emmet was an interesting character, a round character that had to be warmed up. But the standout here for me was Millicent as the daughter, Regan: strong, gentle, determined. Just like her mother.
Part II wasn’t quite as good as the original (for me) because some of that, wow this is different, had to be built elsewhere. But with clever direction, steering the tone and build of suspense (really-ramped up this time), while still opening-up the family drama – those scenes of mother and baby so authentic and sweet – made Part II a worthy sequel.
And watching on the big screen, with the audience gasping, jumping and as a whole all holding our breath (breathe) was a treat.
Written by: Daphne Charizani (screenplay), Ina Weisse (screenwriter)
Produced by: Pierre-Olivier Bardet, Felix von Boehm
Starring: Nina Hoss, Simo Abkarian, Serafin Mishiev, Ilja Monti.
Viewed in German with English subtitles (released as part of the German Film Festival).
“I’m sorry it’s all so complicated right now.”
The Audition follows Anna (Nina Hoss): a violinist, a teacher, a wife and a mother.
She watches young Alexander (Ilja Monit) audition for tutorage at the school where she teaches. She sees talent. She wants him to be her student.
We watch Anna with her husband, a French violin maker, Philippe (Simon Abkarian). He loves her. He understands her, her discomfort, anxiety. He doesn’t mind swapping tables, swapping plates.
He knows something is wrong just by listening to her play violin.
At first, The Audition feels like it’s about the music, about the protégée, Alexander. A protégée, but also a replacement for Anna’s lack of success on stage.
But this is a nuanced film that explores the slow twist of relationships to what really matters to Anna: the desperation to succeed. Her son’s need of a mother’s love. A mother’s need for her son’s attention.
This is a film about the effect of a son pulling away from his mother. How it turns her life to seek fulfillment from an affair with another man. To see her ambition projected onto her young student so she pushes and pushes, eventually setting her own son up in competition against her protégée, Alexander.
This is about how she seeks comfort from the warmth of a hairdryer blown under her jumper.
But more than from her son or lover or husband, Anna needs fulfillment because something’s missing.
The more I write the more I understand the slow reveal of this character, Anna: her mother dying when she was young. Her father tough with his life lessons.
It’s a carefully constructed narrative, a character study set to the sound of the violin.
This is a bittersweet piece of a person’s life: her successes, her failures and ultimately her need above all else.
It’s a slow burn with layers of music and the language about music, but it’s the undercurrent that’s shown in a look or gesture, the unspoken that speaks the loudest – that’s what the film is really about.
The Audition is a difficult movie to review because it’s a subtle one, a cerebral thought-provoker and a film I’ve enjoyed pulling apart and thinking about after the credits have rolled, almost more than the actual viewing.
Patience Portefeux (Isabelle Huppert) is having an existential crisis.
She’s working for the narc squad, translating Arabic to French, where she spends a lot of time listening to small-time dealers talk crap as they incriminate themselves and end up being put away for 3kg of hash.
But this one’s a big one: 1.5 ton.
So when the stash is lost, Patience sees an opportunity to finally make some money. To look after her mother in care (Liliane Rovére) and her two daughters.
To live the good life.
It’s like watching Patience evolve backwards in time. Back to the carefree girl in her father’s boat, fireworks patterning the sky ahead.
The film starts as a recording of voice like an electronic expression, Patience like those little green bars rising up and down as she turns one sound into another.
Her neighbour and building manager say the other tenants call her the ghost. Or they used to.
As Patience seizes her opportunity, she lifts, her colour rising with her confidence. She starts to wear red lipstick. Philippe (Hippolyte Girardot) her boyfriend and now chief of the narc squad comments that she might look like a small fragile woman, but her new confidence and strength makes him see her like the dealers he puts away. Little does he know.
La Daronne, AKA Mama Weed is a character study without getting too deep, more a message of, ‘I just like it when life finds its path.’
There’s a sweetness and I can relate to that disillusion when life suddenly reveals itself.
There’s some humour – Patience named because, as her mother says, she stayed in the womb for ten months. That requires patience. And there’re some thrills as, Mama Weed goes about trying to off-load 1.5 ton of hash. But it’s light-hearted as she deals with guys nick-named Scotch and Cocopuff.
And that consistent light-heartedness gets trying with the, I’m-an-older-lady-with-a-sharp-tongue, so these small-time dealers do whatever she wants?
But more than anything, La Daronne is a movie about a hardworking lady with a past, doing what she can because in the end, you can’t escape who you are. Or you can try. Patience? She turns around and embraces it.
Produced by: Mark Burg and Oren Koules (original SAW team)
Starring: Chris Rock, Max Minghella, Marisol Nichols and Samuel L. Jackson.
“Am I getting under your skin, Detective Banks?”
Inspired by the Saw franchise (starting back in 2004 with Leigh Whannell & James Wan teaming up as writer and director), Spiral is the 10th so far in the series – but wow, it’s been a long time since I came anywhere near a Saw movie. So I was bracing myself for the gore of, Spiral: the case over the face contraptions, ready to slice and dice.
And there’s plenty of that here: tongue, fingers, lots of missing appendages.
The film opens on a carnival and fireworks, then down into the underbelly of the city.
The underground is where we’re first introduced to the Pig Man: “I want to play a game.”
The phrase a familiar echo from the ghost of John Krammer.
Here, in, Spiral, we’re introduced to Detective Ezekiel Banks (Chris Rock), AKA Zeke.
The other cops in his precinct don’t like Banks.
He turned in his partner. A dirty cop.
To them, he’s just a rat.
Saddled with a fresh rookie (Max Minghella), abrasive and lone wolf Zeke is now forced to play nice (ha, ha).
Sent to yet another dead ‘hobo’ murder scene, Zeke has to embrace working with a partner again because this is more than a suicide by train. This has all the markings of a Jigsaw copy-cat.
But this copy-cat? This one likes killing cops.
Zeke has a lot to stand up against: his rep as a snitch, living under the shadow of his highly regarded police veteran father (Samuel L. Jackson). So there’s this detective with a past, a murder to be solved and some cringe-worthy gore.
Why don’t the victims just let themselves be killed rather than torturing themselves only to be killed anyway? I wonder… Then think, must be that survival instinct. But Spiral doesn’t really tap into that tension like the original. The, how far would you go to survive. This is more about the character, detective Banks, solving a crime.
Another difference is this abrasive detective is actually really funny.
Some of the dialogue delivered by Chris Rock is gold: ‘I just found out Pilates doesn’t exist,’ Banks tells the rookie because he’s going through a divorce and his ex cheated on him (no doubt while she was supposed to be going to Pilates).
I can be on the fence with a gory horror. Sometimes it works, sometimes it’s just gross.
But throw in a bit of humour in the breaks and the story suddenly gets more entertaining, gets, another layer; to be able to absorb that next visceral serving of well, bloody meat.
I’m not saying this next instalment is brilliant (I’m getting sensitive to overacting), but without expectation, I got into the storyline and thought to myself mid-way, if it ties-off OK, this will be a decent film.
Make me laugh in between the bloody stuff and splice in a decent detective story and I say, worth a watch.
