Tag Archives: Rachel Willis

Back for Seconds

Food Inc. 2

by Rachel Willis

I’ll admit I didn’t watch 2008’s Food, Inc., but the first film is not a prerequisite for watching Food, Inc. 2—an updated, critical look at the system that feeds us.

What director Robert Kenner addressed in the first film is, in part, revisited—this time with co-director Melissa Robledo. Has much changed since Food, Inc. was released 15 years ago? What role did the COVID-19 pandemic play in exposing the weaknesses in our food system? And what is ultra-processed food doing to our health?

Producers Michael Pollan and Eric Schlosser once again join Kenner in tackling the issues that come with food consumption in America. While farmer’s markets are now a staple in many American cities, and organic and free-range food is readily available in big chain grocery stores, much of what we eat is still controlled by only a handful of companies.

The point is made early that what was started with the original Food, Inc. wasn’t enough.

The filmmakers make a strong case for the fragile nature of our food supply. The COVID pandemic brought into sharp relief the problems with having so few suppliers for our food. Footage shows milk being dumped, pigs euthanized, and produce wasted while store shelves stand depleted. It’s a harsh fact brought to light: the food industry is based on predictability. When something unpredictable happens, people go hungry.

One issue highlighted is that 80% of the infant formula market is controlled by only two companies. When one of those companies had to shut down one of their factories in 2022, parents were left desperate to find the food necessary to feed their babies—just one of many examples that demonstrate the fragility of our most important system.

Several interviews focus on the exploitation of workers harvesting and producing crops for pityingly low wages in inhumane conditions. One man makes the point that “the work is essential, but we’re treated as disposable.” In the 100+ years since The Jungle was published, it seems little has changed.

Michael Pollan is quick to highlight the war between Big Ag and nature. Moving dairy farms to the desert is unsustainable, yet regulations are few and land is cheap. When cows need water from aquifers to produce milk, people go without water.

Food, Inc. 2 raises urgent issues. It’s essential that we listen.

Crooked Line

Glitter & Doom

by Rachel Willis

Being unfamiliar with all but one Indigo Girls song, I was still impressed with how well their music is worked into the romantic musical, Glitter & Doom.

Director Tom Gustafson weaves the tunes into the budding summer romance of Doom (Alan Cammish), an aspiring musician, and Glitter (Alex Diaz), a hopeful circus performer. These two are first drawn to one another while Glitter is filming an audition tape for clown school in Paris.

When the two meet again, the meet cute duet is a bit jarring at first, until we learn that our duo can sing. However, the scene is stolen by the choreography, which is a fun, entertaining highlight in what would otherwise be an underwhelming moment of connection.

There honestly isn’t much to this story, though. The characters seem made to encourage each other’s ambitions. And though they’re presented as opposites, their winning duets don’t help paint them as people with diametrically opposed life perspectives.

Sure, it’s hard not to notice Doom’s outlook matches his name. This is most obvious when he interacts with his mother (Missi Pyle). Glitter, on the other hand, radiates positivity, except when dealing with his loving but unsupportive mother (Ming-Na Wen, who has her own lovely singing voice). In fact, the mother-son relationships are the most interesting parts of the film—not exactly what you want when the focus of your story is a romance.

But when your two leads have the kind of chemistry that Cammish and Diaz have, it’s hard not to be pulled into their tale. Their ups aren’t very high, nor their lows very low, but it’s hard not to root for them – both as a couple, and as they pursue their dreams.

Not much really sets this movie apart except for the music, and each scene seems to drive you toward the next musical number. While it’s not entirely unappealing, it is a bit underwhelming.

Cinematic Treasure Hunters

Mad Props

by Rachel Willis

Enter a world of movie prop collectors, individuals who amass pieces from costumes to sculptures to fragments of sets. These collectors are the focus of director Juan Pablo Reinoso documentary, Mad Props.

He begins by introducing our narrator and host, film producer Tom Biolchini, and his history, from wanting to work as a special effects artist to his eventual role as a hobby prop collector. It’s not the most compelling way to start the film. Several scenes involve Tom showing his family pictures from a prop catalog, dreaming about his most desired objects. We watch him place bids, paying anywhere from $25,000 to $75,000 for a single item.

The film picks up somewhat as the focus moves to other prop collectors. We travel the world to see some of the most impressive collections. Collectors often display their items in creative ways, highlighting the pieces they are most proud of. Unfortunately, Reinoso doesn’t do much to vary the presentation of these moments, and that repetitiveness drags.

Mad Props is most interesting when Reinoso interviews the artists who make the movie props. When asked what he thinks of his work being coveted by fans, one designer expresses delight. But who is the ultimate beneficiary of all the money being spent on these props? It’s not the designers.

Actors Lance Henriksen and Robert Englund add a little levity to the film. Unfortunately, even they can’t help with much of the footage, which simply feels like filler.

Mad Props flounders, never quite telling its story in a cohesive, interesting way. Of all the things to collect, movie props are pretty cool. You purchase a piece of cinematic history, art, and depending on the person’s relationship to the film itself, a bit of nostalgic joy. Of course, the cost of the items makes the hobby pretty prohibitive, hindering any attempt at universal appeal.

Reinoso wants to convey the value in this type of collecting. Sadly, he never quite makes the case that this is a hobby of interest for those beyond the collectors themselves.

Self Portrait

Frida

by Rachel Willis

Director Carla Gutiérrez lets Frida Kahlo speak through her words, photos, and most movingly, self-portraits (including images from her illustrated diary) in the documentary Frida.

The film moves through the years of Kahlo’s life, weaving in her own words and images from her young life. Film from the time period helps set the scene of Frida’s childhood in Mexico. Photos of Kahlo and her parents illustrate her spoken memories.

The documentary makes impressive use of Kahlo’s paintings to bring the legend to life. This is a documentary that puts the soul of the artist front and center of her own story.

When Frida tries to bring in its own artistry, it suffers by comparison. The choice to highlight certain sections of black and white film in bright colors feels tacky compared to the rich paintings. Used to better effect are animations that enliven the artist’s works.

In addition to Kahlo’s own words, voices from those who knew her pepper the film. Classmates, former boyfriends, and friends add layers to the portrait the film paints.

It is impossible to study Kahlo’s life without examining her relationship with fellow artist Diego Rivera. His influence on her life was profound, as was hers on his.

Kahlo’s emotional highs and lows allow the audience to know her in a way that enhances an understanding of her art. Like so many artists, the true impact of her work would only be understood after her death. But in life, it brought her joy.

For those unfamiliar with Frida Kahlo, this is a lush and impressive introduction to her life and art.

Screening Room: Kung Fu Panda 4, Imaginary, Ricky Stanicky, Damsel & More

Little Sister, Don’t You

The Princess Warrior

by Rachel Willis

When an ancient text is stolen, it sets off a war between kingdoms in director Bassanjargai Sambuu’s The Princess Warrior (previously titled Princess Khutulun)

The text is the Golden Sutra, an item passed down directly to the descendants of Genghis Khan, the most powerful family in Mongolia. During an ambush, an assassination party sent by a khan from another kingdom grievously wounds the king, setting off a chain of events that upends the ruling order.

The princess warrior is the king’s only daughter, Princess Khutulun (Tsedoo Munkhbat). Though chided from childhood that women are to be meek, to learn needlework not archery, she has nonetheless trained alongside her 13 brothers. During a council with those brothers, she refuses to obey her oldest and sets off with a clan of loyal followers to retrieve the Golden Sutra.

The film is lush with rich sets and costuming that bring the world of the Mongolian empire to life. Based on both a novel and historical facts, the film does a marvelous job of bringing Princess Khutulun to life. Some of the ancillary characters are more fleshed out than others, as the film’s short run time doesn’t allow for much depth in any character beyond Khutulun.

There is also cultural history that might be unknown to American viewers, but enough is conveyed through conversation that anyone should be able to glean the basics of this feudal society. In a world that was once ruled by kings and lords, it’s not surprising that wars of leadership raged in Mongolia much as they did in Europe.

Munkhbat gives a wonderful performance as the Princess Warrior. She is adept at bringing a range of emotion to a character that yearns to choose her own path in a patriarchal society. She likens herself to a sheep, but longs to be a wolf.

Though not everyone is able to bring the same skill to their roles, most of it can be overlooked considering the story, which is intriguing enough to please most viewers. The film understands its strengths and embraces them, while smoothing over the rougher elements.

The battle choreography is enjoyable, and the fights come fast and furious after the initial set up. There is intrigue, betrayal, and a woman warrior who cements it all in an absorbing character.

Memory Lane

Lie With Me

By Rachel Willis

Past memories and present regrets mix in director Olivier Peyon’s film, Lie with Me.

Returning to his hometown after decades away, celebrated author Stéphane Belcourt (Guillaume de Tonquédec) looks to dig up the ghosts of his past in hopes of inspiring something lost. Or in this case, one ghost. 

In 1984, a young Stéphane (Jérémy Gillet) begins a relationship with popular student, Thomas (Julien De Saint Jean). The only condition of their relationship is that no one can know. What starts as something tawdry deepens as the two boys spend more time together. Scenes from the past intermingle with scenes from the present, as memories of his first love overwhelm an older Stéphane.

It’s not clear if Stephane expects to encounter his past love when he returns, but he is floored when instead he meets Thomas’s son, Lucas (Victor Belmondo). 

There are two very touching relationships in the film as we watch the budding romance between Stéphane and Thomas unfold, along with Stéphane’s friendship with Lucas. The two actors portraying Stéphane are equally skilled at bringing the character to life in a seamless blend of one person at two different times in life. It’s as effectives as the contrasting natures of Thomas and his son, Lucas. Where Thomas is reserved, never revealing who he is, Lucas is at ease with himself.

The slow steps the film takes in trying to reveal Thomas are elusive; can we ever really know a person who doesn’t know himself? In hiding a part of himself from everyone but Stéphane, he essentially lives a stunted life.

There are some scenes that don’t always work. A few are too heavy-handed and sentimental in a film that works better when it embraces restraint. As the older Stéphane, de Tonquédec can convey a range of emotion with his expressions. When his controlled façade slips, we see sadness and radiance as he recalls moments of love and loss. 

The movie isn’t perfect, but it’s touching. There is a quiet sadness that haunts Stéphane as we follow him through his memories. While some scenes carrying a heavy weight, the film is not without hope. While it’s true there are some people we can never really know, often they leave hints, revealing as much of themselves as they can. It’s depressing, but it’s hopeful, too. 

Perhaps one day, the world will learn the accept others for who they are and there will no longer be a need to hide.

We All Float On Okay

Float

by Rachel Willis

It’s often said there are no new stories, only new ways to tell them. Director Sherren Lee’s film Float aptly exemplifies this concept.

The film follows a standard rom-com format while not exactly falling into the rom-com category. There’s romance, yes, and a certain amount of comedy, but also a lot of heart and turbulence as several characters navigate their relationships.

Waverly (an exquisite Andrea Bang) finds herself in Holden visiting her Aunt Rachel (Michelle Krusiec), whom she hasn’t seen in so long neither can really remember when it last was. Waverly’s visit is unexpected. She was supposed to be in Toronto for a career opportunity her parents arranged for her. But even that wasn’t planned. Her original plan for the summer was to fly to Taipei to spend time with parents she hasn’t seen in four years.

It’s clear from the beginning that Waverly’s relationship with her parents is far from perfect. Seeking refuge from their expectations, she finds the small town of Holden a good place to recharge and sort out her feelings.

Waverly meets a host of characters who enliven her experience in the gorgeous town. It can be hard to balance a large cast of characters, but the film does this well.

The one exception is Blake (Robbie Amell), which is a problem since he’s the other half of our romantic duo. Blake never really comes to life, and it can be hard to work out what it is about him that Waverly likes. Most of their time spent getting acquainted is shown in montage, which doesn’t allow the audience to get to know Blake.

The other problem is the lack of depth given to Waverly’s relationship with her parents. This is a big part of the film’s conflict, but Lee doesn’t devote enough time to it.

However, Float boasts an endearing tenderness. Bang can carry the film’s emotional weight, her range of emotion spilling over into each scene. A mixed bag, Float at least has a unique take on the rom-com formula.

Shadow Dancing

Reflect

by Rachel Willis

Writer, director, and star Dana Kippel delivers a trippy journey through a form of psychotherapy called shadow work in her film, Reflect.

As Summer, Kippel invites participants to a spiritual retreat as a challenge of sorts in which they can win money upon completing “reflective” obstacle courses.

Accompanying her on this journey to the desert (both spiritual and literal) are three friends (and one frenemy). Each woman brings her own past traumas with her, but none of them take their upcoming journey too seriously. From the clothes they wear to the things they pack, they don’t seem to understand the gravity of what they’re getting into.

Along the way, the characters meet some odd balls – odd balls that are part of a show, The Game of Life, in which the women are unaware participants.

It’s a strange set up for sure. By putting our characters on this journey, Kippel mines the sources of trauma in each woman’s life, some of those traumas more damaging than others.

As each woman undertakes the obstacle courses, they must face their anguish. It’s part of the game, part of the journey, but it makes you wonder what exactly becomes of a person who can’t handle the pain that plagues them.

Reflect excels at delivering a game cast of women (including Grace Patterson and Jadelyn Breier) who play off each other with the authentic dynamic of friends. There is genuine affection, but also a level of cattiness that keeps the quintet from truly letting each other in. Perhaps if they were able to do so, those life traumas would not be so overwhelming.

The film’s only weak element is when Kippel cuts away from the women to the gameshow framing device. Reflect would have worked just as well as a psychedelic journey into shadow work without the added element of voyeurism.

However, Kippel wisely keeps most of our attention on Summer and her friends, revealing their baggage little by little. It’s an interesting look at how our past infects our present and influences our future. Is there a way to move forward when the past pervades our every being? Maybe, maybe not. Kippel offers no easy answers, and the film is better for it.

Winging It

Migration

by Rachel Willis

A family of mallard ducks decides to migrate to Jamaica, setting off a series of misadventures and kid-friendly comedy in the latest animated film from Illumination, Migration.

When exotic ducks land in same pond as our mallard family, son Dax (voiced by Caspar Jennings) becomes smitten with one of the flock, prompting his desire to head south for the winter. Mom Pam (Elizabeth Banks), is also intrigued by idea. Littlest duck, Gwen (Tresi Gazal), seems ready for anything, but Dad Mack (Kumail Nanjiani), it too fearful of the outside world to consider leaving their little pond.

The catalyst for adventure comes from Uncle Dan (Danny DeVito). He gives Mack the prod he needs for accepting Pam’s request to open his eyes to the world.

So little time is spent on Mack’s paranoia and fear that his change of heart doesn’t make much of an impact. Based on the title, we already know the family – with Uncle Dan along for the ride – is going to make the journey, so no surprise there. And you can expect hijinx along the way.

The humor–mainly predictable and heavy-handed–derives from the family’s reactions to the obstacles and characters they meet along the way. While this might entertain the youngest in the audience, it gets tedious for the rest of us.

Migration’s tender-hearted treatment of each member of our duck family is its selling point. Though Mack’s fears would keep him in his little window forever, Pam is willing to help him overcome his reticence and step out into the wider world. Uncle Dan’s sweet relationship with little Gwen makes him more than just comic relief.

The ancillary characters don’t all get the same heart. The imprisoned parrot Delroy (Keegan-MichaelKey) is a standout in a sea of mostly forgettable side players. His longing for his former home is palpable. On the opposite side of the spectrum is the film’s unnecessary villain. The grunting chef who cooks ducks and particularly dislikes Mack and Pam lacks the menace necessary to create a memorable bad guy.

Migration fits the bill for lighthearted fun. But its predictability and shallow characters limit its potential to become anyone’s newest holiday favorite.