Tag Archives: Rachel Willis

New In Theaters

Heartbreak and Displacement

Leave a comment

All That’s Left of You

by Rachel Willis

Opening with two teenagers swept up in a demonstration in the West Bank, writer/director Cherien Dabis drops us into a world of strife and sorrow with her film, All That’s Left of You.

After the tense opening, the film moves backward in time to 1948, Jaffa, Palestine. From here, we follow Sharif (Adam Bakri) as he struggles to hold onto his land and home amid ever worsening strikes in the region. His wife is less concerned with his ideals than she is with keeping her family safe.

As we follow Sharif and his family, and the decisions they have to make as Zionist troops close-in, we get a sense of the hopelessness of the situation. Whether or not you know the history, there is a sense of impending doom as the men in the region discuss their options—stay and resist or leave in hopes of a safer future.

The 1948 segment of the film is the shortest, but it gives a sense of what was lost for the people of Jaffa.

Jumping ahead 30 years to the occupied West Bank, Sharif is now an old man who lives with his son Salim (Saleh Bakri) and his family. Each moment we spend with this family shows how deeply the film cares about its subject matter.

One scene during the 1978 segment is so intense it’s nearly impossible to watch. As soldiers torture and humiliate Salim in front of his son, Noor (Sanad Alkabareti), their laughter only underscores the cruelty present when we dehumanize each other. Noor’s reaction to the event is heartbreaking, yet honest.

The film jumps ahead another ten years as we follow an angry, teenage Noor (Muhammad Abed Elrahman) in an increasingly charged West Bank. The scene that opens the film comes full circle as the third section begins.   

This family’s trauma across generations is our gateway into this world. Events unfold around them that are almost incomprehensible. Protestors are gunned down in the street. Treatment for a medical emergency is delayed over bureaucratic red tape and a misplaced ID. All That’s Left of You is an impassioned portrayal of one family’s experiences of displacement and heartbreak in Palestine.

Outtakes

Ticking Away the Moments

Leave a comment

No More Time

by Rachel Willis

What writer/director Dalila Droege does really well with her pandemic thriller, No More Time, is capture the fear, paranoia, and rage that comes with a viral outbreak.

Hilarie (Jennifer Harlow) and her husband, Steve (Mark Reeb), flee Texas for Colorado in hopes of finding some kind of escape. They seek to disappear, leaving everyone they know behind and hiding in a vacation town in the mountains.

A radio announcer (voiced by Jim Beaver) embodies the rage that can breed from the conflicting information that comes with a viral pandemic. Beaver’s broadcaster falls into the trap of thinking that if information changes on daily basis, that makes it suspect. The vocal performance captures the blind anger that comes from a place of deep fear and distrust.

However, that doesn’t mean that, within this world, the radio is entirely wrong. There is something very disturbing about the virus.

Droege effectively captures the ways in which our society can easily fall apart when faced with an external, existential threat. The idea of mean-world syndrome permeates nearly every moment that Steve and Hilarie interact with the people around them.

To juxtapose the deep schisms growing among the human population, Droege peppers peaceful scenes of the ecosystem throughout. The environment glows in opposition to the violence brewing in the human world.

Droege’s instinct for dialog is not as strong. At times the lines are so heavy handed as to be unbelievable.

But the overall effect of the film is deeply unsettling and familiar. Though the virus at the heart of No More Time is vastly different than the one we endured, the emotions are the same. We can learn from past mistakes, or fall into the same fear, paranoia, and anger that crippled us in the past and permeates the world of No More Time.

Outtakes

Eye in the Sky

Leave a comment

Visions

by Rachel Willis

Unsettling close-ups of eyes and haunting music opens director Yann Gozlan’s thriller, Visions.

Estelle (Diane Kruger) is a successful commercial pilot who lives a seemingly idyllic life with her husband, Guillaume (Mathieu Kassovitz). However, it’s clear early on that Estelle keeps herself under strict control. Small details show how tightly wound she is.

Her ordered life is upended when she is reunited with an old friend, Ana (Marta Nieto). As Estelle’s opposite, Ana’s disorder is a little too on the nose. In one scene, Estelle is as rigid in her stance as Ana is fluid. Because of how heavy-handed they’re presented as foils, the two characters feel hollow.

As many women coiled too tightly, Estelle unravels rapidly. Violent dreams leave marks on her body. She begins to see eyes peeping in on her in various situations. There are several tense moments between Estelle and her husband, as well as between Estelle and Ana.

Kruger is impeccable, carrying the bulk of the film’s emotional weight. It’s unfortunate that the story can’t match her intensity. The film is often frustratingly opaque, leaving the audience with little to try to unravel as Estelle’s visions haunt her. Too many pieces seem smashed together with little narrative cohesion.

The overall effect is tedious. It’s hard to care about characters that are never fully realized. Each person in Estelle’s orbit is mere shadow. And the mystery at the heart of Estelle’s “visions” is less interesting than certain extreme moments she spends in the cockpit of a plane.

The focus on eyes is one of the more compelling features of Visions, but on the whole, it doesn’t succeed in keeping our eyes glued to the screen.

Outtakes

Stop Your Sobbing

Leave a comment

The Wailing

by Rachel Willis

For as many horror films as I watch, it’s rare for one to truly unnerve or scare me. The ones that do tend to hit a deeply held fear or anxiety. Director Pedro Martín-Calero’s film The Wailing hits one of those fears—the fear of not being believed.

Co-writing with Isabel Peña, Martín-Calero movie follows several women as they encounter a sinister presence. Each section of film follows a different woman, traveling backward and forward in time to show how each one is impacted by the violent entity in their lives.

The first is Andrea (Ester Expósito). While walking home one day, the music on her phone is interrupted by the ethereal wailing of one or more women.  

The film’s tension picks up quickly. One especially frightening scene pairs the fear of not being believed with the anxiety of being ignored. As Andrea pleads and screams for help in a crowded room, onlookers simply stare at her, unmoving and unmoved.

It’s these moments, and several quieter ones, where the film excels. As the suspense and mystery grows, it’s clear the takeaway is that when women are ignored, everyone is the worse for it. While the women are the most negatively and directly impacted, the violence has a sinister spread with the potential to affect everyone in it orbit.

The only element the film struggles with is how to convey text conversation. The choice to overlay images with text messages is distracting and negates the rising tension.

Fortunately, this is only an issue during Andrea’s story. Then the film moves back in time to follow Camila (Malena Villa) as she interacts with Andrea’s mother, Marie (Mathilde Olliver).

The Wailing excels in following a reverse timeline to explore the extended metaphor of the long-term effects of not believing women. The film ends on what could be construed as a hopeful note, but the choice of how we move forward is left to the audience to decide. Believing women is the first step; what comes next is up to us.

Outtakes

A Sort of Homecoming

Leave a comment

Reawakening

by Rachel Willis

It’s generally a good bet that if Jared Harris is in your film, it will be worth watching.

This is certainly the case for writer/director Virginia Gilbert’s Reawakening, and the cast surrounding Harris help elevate the entire film.

On the tenth anniversary of their daughter Clare’s disappearance, John (Harris) and Mary (Juliet Stevenson) make a renewed plea to the public to help them in their search for their daughter. It’s made known through subtle pieces of conversation that Clare wasn’t kidnapped but ran away from home at the age of 14.

Brief flashbacks show pieces from the past that help to explain the events leading up to Clare’s departure, but these moments never overshadow the present narrative. We frequently see how her disappearance continues to affect her parents. Mary’s grief is overwhelming. John looks for his daughter in the faces of every young woman he passes. Both have continued with their lives, but it’s clear they will never move on from their loss.

This is a subtle thriller, as the twists and turns play second fiddle to a poignant character study. Harris takes center stage as first a grieving father, then a skeptical one as a woman claiming to be Clare (Erin Doherty) enters their lives. It’s not hard to understand why Mary and John have such divergent reactions to the return of their daughter. Their reactions underscore both blind hope and stunning disbelief.

The film’s subtlety sometimes works against it. There are small moments that are easy to miss even though they play an important role in the overall narrative.

But what works for this film is the veracity of this small family as they seek answers and struggle to reconnect. Harris, especially, sells his role as a father who just wants to know what really happened to his beloved daughter.

It’s a moving analysis of family trauma that resonates long after the credits roll.

Nightmares Film Festival

Car Wheels on a Gravel Road

Leave a comment

Tinsman Road

Screens Sunday, October 19 at 2pm

by Rachel Willis

Writer, director, and star Robbie Banfitch crafts a unique, documentary-style film with his feature, Tinsman Road.

Banfitch plays Robbie Lyle, a documentarian focused on capturing his mother Leslie’s (Leslie Ann Banfitch) belief that her missing daughter is now an angel.

Leslie’s grief is tangible, and as the “documentary” progresses, her hold on reality seems more and more tenuous. Her belief that her daughter is now a visiting angel is met with tender skepticism by her son. When she asks if he believes in psychics, she answers his no with the assurance that while “some are scams,” hers is real.

Leslie Banfitch’s naturalism helps sell the documentary approach. Her ability to fully encompass a woman who believes her missing daughter now haunts her life is not only heartfelt but convincing. Her performance sets the film apart from similar, weaker fare. Robbie’s own grief feels two-fold. Not only does he also mourn the loss of his sister but feels helpless in helping his mom with her grief. It’s a heart wrenching dilemma.

Eerie elements underscore the fact that, while this is a movie about a grieving family, it’s also a horror film. It’s these subtleties from the very beginning that slowly suck you in. The film also pulls artfully from the true crime genre.

The camera work and low-budget quality of the movie both heighten the tension and add to the sorrow surrounding the characters. Though the style has certainly been overused in the horror genre, Banfitch manages to make it feel like a necessary choice.

Certain moments feel unnecessary, but they’re few and far between. The removal of one or two scenes may have helped tighten pacing. But these are small imperfections, easy to overlook.

Tinsman Road‘s slowly building dread gives way to a shattering climax. The intensity of the third act is stomach churning, especially after the quiet meditation on grief that came before it. Banfitch rewards your patience with the finale.

Grief and horror have often gone hand in hand, and Banfitch offers up a worthy contribution.

Uncategorized

Ain’t Got No Swing

Leave a comment

London Calling

by Rachel Willis

Charming isn’t usually the first word to spring to mind when describing a movie about a down-on-his-luck hitman. However, that’s the word that comes up when thinking about director Allan Ungar’s film, London Calling.

Tommy Ward (Josh Duhamel) flees London for sunny Los Angeles after a hit goes terribly wrong. He finds similar work with a new employer, Benson (Rick Hoffman). Somehow, Ward also finds himself the unlikely caretaker of Benson’s son, Julian (Jeremy Ray Taylor, It). Tasked with turning Julian into a man, Ward takes him along on a series of hits. 

London Calling is suffused with humor, from the opening scenes through several bloody shootouts. Throw in Julian’s interest in LARP-ing and a penchant for Furry porn, and London Calling delivers the right mix for a solidly funny movie. 

Ungar’s script, co-written with Omer Levin Menekse and Quinn Wolfe, is very predictable, but Duhamel and Taylor’s chemistry keeps it fun. Their pairing is delightful. Duhamel plays to his strengths as a hitman who could clearly use a pair of glasses but refuses them. Taylor is believable both as a crime lord’s son (with a certain ambivalence toward violence), as well as a LARP-obsessed kid.

The film falters during its climax. Too many threads come together in unsatisfying ways. Worse still, London Calling loses its sense of humor and veers too close to melodrama. 

Thankfully, it’s a brief misstep, and the overall effect is a solidly funny, enjoyable film about two charismatic outcasts.

New In Theaters

Don’t Waste It Living Someone Else’s Life

Leave a comment

Everything to Me

by Rachel Willis

For a young woman growing up in Silicon Valley during Apple’s heyday, the role model for her coming-of-age journey is none other than Steve Jobs.

Writer/director Kayci Lacob has a new take on the perils of growing up in her film, Everything to Me.

The film opens on an adult Claudia (Victoria Pedretti) at a reading for her new book, The Book of Jobs. What starts as a reading turns into voice over narration as we follow Claudia through several life stages.

The most impactful iteration occurs with tween Claudia (Eliza Donaghy), who uses the words of her idol to not only navigate her parents’ tumultuous divorce, but to correctly insert a tampon for the first time. There is a lot of heart and warmth in these moments.

However, the bulk of the film follows teen Claudia (Abigail Donaghy). It’s apparent that Claudia’s hero worship has become off-putting to her best friend (Lola Flanery), reflecting, unfortunately, the way it feels to the audience as well. Claudia’s hero-worship no longer feel like a natural extension of her character, but a script she follows rather than lives.

This is a theme throughout the film: live life as it happens rather than trying to live by someone else’s bucket list. However, our teenage Claudia never quite comes across as someone who truly believes in what she does and how she lives.

But the film comes alive in other ways, mostly in the characters who surround Claudia. Particularly vibrant is way she navigates her relationships—with her mom (a winning Judy Greer), her dad, a favorite teacher, and the boy who likes her.

In these moments, the film excels, making it easier to brush aside less interesting and less believable scenes.

Growing up is never easy, Claudia’s journey toward finding herself delivers a memorable reminder of that..

New In Theaters

Viva la Revolution

Leave a comment

Sudan, Remember Us

by Rachel Willis

“Each time one revolutionary falls a thousand others stand up!”

Sudan has appeared in the news off-and-on for years. The region has been plagued by coups, civil war, terrorism, genocide, and oppression of anyone who dared resist the regimes in power.

It’s poignant for Hind Meddeb to name her documentary Sudan, Remember Us, as she forces our attention once again to a region plagued by war and uncertainty.

A bit of history may be helpful for those unfamiliar with situation in Sudan. The coup that overthrew the 30-year rule of President Omar al-Bashir in 2019 was meant to lead to democratic, civilian rule. But the military council set up to act as a transitionary government has not released its hold on the citizens of the Sudan. The film assumes a certain knowledge, but even without any historical knowledge, it’s clear what the people want and who they resist.

For several young activists and artists living in Khartoum, the fight for democracy is a daily battle. Meddeb drops us into the realities of a sit-in, a form of civil disobedience. She lets several men and women speak to why they demand change. They discuss the best ways to protest, to keep fighting when those in power want to break them.

The footage of the sit-in is juxtaposed with a military crackdown, accompanied by scenes of chaos. Gunshots, explosions, and beatings are caught on camera phones, many wielded by the perpetrators of the violence. It’s a disturbing reaction to the peaceful nature of the sit-in.

The scenes of viciousness help underscore the words of the protestors who speak to the importance of continuing to oppose the military government. They recite poetry, sing songs, march, and find as many ways as they can to register their disapproval with the situation as it stands.

The ways in which Meddeb allows these young men and women to open up, sometimes addressing her directly, creates an intimacy between the audience and the participants. The film does as much as it can to make us feel like we’re witnessing history as it unfolds, even as the result remains uncertain.

It’s a powerful testament to the importance of film (and art in general) in the making of history.

New In Theaters

Last Goodbye

Leave a comment

It’s Never Over, Jeff Buckley

by Rachel Willis

Director Amy Berg (Janis: Little Girl Blue) paints an intimate portrait of songwriter Jeff Buckley in her documentary, It’s Never Over, Jeff Buckley.

Berg understands her subject and skillfully weaves the story of Buckley’s life, which is bookended by tragedy.

Buckley’s mom (Mary Guibert) opens up about the tumultuous early years of Jeff’s life. With a father who abandoned his six-month pregnant wife, Buckley had no relationship with a man to whom he would draw comparison in later life.

Buckley’s biological father was singer/songwriter Tim Buckley, and as Jeff started to make a name for himself, those constant comparisons would wear on him. Berg artfully navigates these early years of Jeff’s career while he struggled to distance himself from his absentee father.

Berg weaves archival footage into the film, often using recordings of Buckley to invigorate interviews with Jeff’s friends and family. The footage helps the audience to know the person to whom everyone has such touching words.

Unfortunately, there are times when the film drags a bit as it becomes repetitive. A lot of similar ground is trod over the course of the film’s runtime, and Berg doesn’t bring anything new to the genre of music documentary.

It can also be hard to watch people talk about events in hindsight, particularly when the subject of such conversation is unable to weigh in on those opinions. There is speculation of Buckley’s mental state, perhaps that he suffered from bipolar disorder and psychosis. While this may be true, it’s difficult to judge the truth of someone’s memories 20 years on. It’s Buckley’s haunting cover of Leonard Cohen’s Hallelujah that plays over the words of those who speak of Jeff after his death. It is undeniably an exquisite cover and a fitting tribute to a life cut tragically short.