What is more diabolical: enacting a global plan for widespread destruction, or pursuing a selfish agenda in your relationship, ready to twist the knife precisely where it hurts your partner the most?
Black Bag has a satchel full of fun weighing the two options, as director Steven Soderbergh and a crackling ensemble contrast the power plays in both love connections and spy games.
Michael Fassbender and Cate Blanchett (already sounds good, right?) are downright delicious as Londoners George Woodhouse and Kathryn St. Jean, master spies and devoted spouses. He’s emotionless and tidy, an expert cook, and a dogged sleuth with a hatred of dishonesty. She’s cool, calculating and seductive, with a wry sense of humor, a prescription for anxiety meds and a sudden cloud of suspicion around her.
Could Kathryn really be the mole who has stolen a lethal malware program and is shopping it to Soviet extremists? And can George be trusted with the job of investigating his own wife? The agency director (Pierce Brosnan) doesn’t hold back his distaste for the predicament.
While hosting a dinner party for two other couples who also mix business and pleasure – Freddie (Tom Burke)/Clarissa (Marisa Abela, so good as Amy Winehouse in Back to Black) and James (Regé-Jean Page)/Zoe (Naomie Harris) – George spots the first clue that Kathyrn’s allegiances may be compromised.
So the game is on.
Veteran screenwriter David Koepp follows his minimalist winner Presence with a smart and twisty throwback drama, relying less on action and more on dialog and plot, often staying a step ahead of your questions about internal logic. There’s a good bit of dry British humor here, too, which these stellar performers dig into with understandable relish.
From the opening prologue – an extended take that winds through the cityscape with purpose – Soderbergh seems perfectly at home with this self-assured style . The aesthetic is lush and sometimes showy, but in a relaxed manner of somebody who knows his audience is going to appreciate it.
They should. Black Bag is an adult-centric drama that offers bona fide movie stars, glamour and romance, challenges, surprises and humor. And it gets it all done in 90 minutes. Throw in a fine meal beforehand, and you’ve got a damn fine date night that just might put you in a pretty friendly mood when you get home.
Real-life creative roadblocks pushed filmmaker Atom Egoyan to channel his frustrations into a new project. Seven Veils is the result, an impressively crafted and consistently compelling psychological drama of life imitating art imitating opera.
A few years back, Egoyan was set to re-mount his vision of Richard Strauss’s Salome with the Canadian Opera Company. Producers blocked some of Egoyan’s proposed changes, which led him to create the character of Jeanine.
Jeanine (Amanda Seyfried) is a young theatre director given the reins to a re-mount of Salome, which was the crown jewel in the resume of her mentor, Charles. Producers would no doubt prefer someone more seasoned at the helm, but it was Charles’s dying wish for Jeanine to direct, and she dives into the project with earnest ambition and a complicated past.
Repressed trauma begins to influence Jeanine’s edits to the production, and her ideas are met with a resistance that leads to mockery.
Egoyan (Chloe, The Sweet Hereafter) was able to incorporate the set of his own staging of Salome into the Seven Veils production, giving the film’s fictional opera a sumptuous, authentic visual pull that helps to seamlessly blur the narrative lines.
Because whether these characters are on stage or off, Egoyan funnels every thread through the act of spectating. Jeanine watches rehearsals. Cast and crew watch Jeanine. Jeanine has face-time conversations with her mother and her estranged husband, while production artist Clea’s (Rebecca Liddiard, an ensemble standout) BTS vlogs fuel some desperate backstage deal-making.
And as Jeanine complains about the effect of an intimacy coordinator on her plans for more overt sexuality onstage, persistent flashbacks foreshadow the film’s third act turn toward melodrama. It’s Seyfried’s committed performance that keeps the series of reveals from collapsing under pulpy self-indulgence.
Jeanine is clearly working through some things, and Seyfried makes it worthwhile to labor along with her. Instead of overwrought hysterics, Seyfried brings a slowly unraveling intensity to Jeanine, allowing the unease that inspired Egoyan’s Seven Veils to play out as a fascinating peek behind the creative curtain.
It is time! And whether you think Wicked was wonderful, Emilia Pérez was overrated or Nosferatu needed more love, one thing is certain. It will be tough for this year’s Oscar broadcast to reach the wild heights of last year. (Please bring back Nicolas Cage, Kate McKinnon and Ryan Gosling!)
In the meantime, here are our predictions for this year’s big winners:
Actress in a Supporting Role
For a while, it looked like Netflix’s big bet this year was going to make a big splash at Oscar. But as the race draws to a close, we think Emilia Pérez will content itself with just one win.
Should win: Zoe Saldaña, Emilia Pérez
Will win: Zoe Saldaña, Emilia Pérez
Monica Barbaro, A Complete Unknown
Ariana Grande, Wicked
Felicity Jones, The Brutalist
Isabella Rossellini, Conclave
Zoe Saldaña, Emilia Pérez
Actor in a Supporting Role
What a great field this year. Each actor cut an unforgettable character.
Should win: Kieran Culkin, A Real Pain
Will win: Kieran Culkin, A Real Pain
Yura Borisov, Anora
Kieran Culkin, A Real Pain
Edward Norton, A Complete Unknown
Guy Pearce, The Brutalist
Jeremy Strong, The Apprentice
Writing (Adapted Screenplay)
There were two real standouts in this field in 2024. We believe one of those two will go home empty handed, but the other will take home the Oscar.
Should win: Greg Kwedar, Clint Bentley, Clarence Maclin, John “Divine G” Whitfield, Sing Sing
Will win: RaMell Ross and Joslyn Barnes, Nickel Boys
A Complete Unknown: James Mangold and Jay Cocks
Conclave: Peter Straughan
Emilia Pérez: Jacques Audiard; in collaboration with Thomas Bidegain, Lea Mysius and Nicolas Livecchi
Nickel Boys: RaMell Ross and Joslyn Barnes
Sing Sing: Greg Kwedar and Clint Bentley; story by Clint Bentley, Greg Kwedar, Clarence Maclin, John “Divine G” Whitfield
Writing (Original Screenplay)
What’s the old cliché —the film that should win best picture usually wins best screenplay instead? This year, we predict both awards go the same direction, but we’d love to see one messy piece of female rage get it instead.
Should win: Coralie Fargeat, The Substance
Will win: Sean Baker, Anora
Anora: Sean Baker
The Brutalist: Brady Corbet and Mona Fastvold
A Real Pain: Jesse Eisenberg
September 5: Moritz Binder, Tim Fehlbaum; co-written by Alex David
The Substance: Coralie Fargeat
Documentary Feature Film
As is often the case, the Academy draws attention to five brilliant nonfiction films, each shining a light on a piece of reality that we would otherwise never see. Vital, brilliant, necessary art, each one of these. Any win is justified.
Should win: No Other Land
Will win: No Other Land
Black Box Diaries
No Other Land
Porcelain War
Soundtrack to a Coup d’Etat
Sugarcane
International Feature Film
Here’s another great and wildly varied category.
Should win: I’m Still Here
Will win: I’m Still Here
I’m Still Here: Brazil
The Girl with the Needle: Denmark
Emilia Pérez: France
The Seed of the Sacred Fig: Germany
Flow: Latvia
Animated Feature Film
This category is such a joy this year, with five of the year’s best features.
Should win: The Wild Robot
Will win: The Wild Robot
Flow
Inside Out 2
Memoir of a Snail
Wallace and Gromit: Vengeance Most Fowl
The Wild Robot
Actor in a Leading Role
Tough call here, but we’re thinking Chalamet’s SAG win gives him the edge over Brody.
Should win: Colman Domingo, Sing Sing
Will win: Timothee Chalamet, A Complete Unknown
Adrien Brody, The Brutalist
Timothee Chalamet, A Complete Unknown
Colman Domingo, Sing Sing
Ralph Fiennes, Conclave
Sebastian Stan, The Apprentice
Actress in a Leading Role
Should win: Demi Moore, The Substance
Will win: Demi Moore, The Substance
Cynthia Erivo, Wicked
Karla Sofia Gascon, Emilia Pérez
Mikey Madison, Anora
Demi Moore, The Substance
Fernanda Torres, I’m Still Here
Best Director
Would we cry if Fargeat won this? Tears of joy, maybe. But the likelihood is low and, to be honest, the tightrope Baker walked to give his film an almost slapstick comedic tone (given that it’s a film about a group of mobsters who kidnap a sex worker) is a real testament to his mastery of the craft of direction.
Should win: Sean Baker, Anora
Will win: Sean Baker, Anora
Anora: Sean Baker
The Brutalist: Brady Corbet
A Complete Unknown: James Mangold
Emilia Pérez: Jacques Audiard
The Substance: Coralie Fargeat
Best Picture
The Substance has a real shot, with Conclave as the upset possibility.
Should win: Anora
Will win: Anora
Anora
The Brutalist
A Complete Unknown
Conclave
Dune: Part Two
Emilia Pérez
I’m Still Here
Nickel Boys
The Substance
The Academy Awards are Sunday, March 2nd, live on ABC and Hulu with Conan O’Brien hosting.
What’s that you say? The Monkey‘s brand of humor wasn’t dark enough for ya?
Well Merry F-ing Christmas. Riff Raff lives where it’s none more black, crafting just enough murderous, deadpan funny business to make it worthwhile.
The trouble all starts when Rocco (Lewis Pullman) and his pregnant girlfriend Marina (Emanuela Postacchini) run into Johnny (Michael Angelo Covino). The three share a romantic and friendly past, but when Johnny turns violent Rocco retaliates, which means he and Marina quickly find themselves on the run from Johnny’s gangster father, Lefty (Bill Murray).
The two head to Maine, and check in with Rocco’s father Vincent (Ed Harris), his wife Sandy (Gabrielle Union) and their teenage son D.J. (Miles J. Harvey). Oh, yeah, Rocco’s mother/Vincent’s ex Ruth (Jennifer Coolidge) is there, too, and danger sure makes her horny!
Hubba hubba, then, because danger’s on the way. Lefty and his henchman Lonnie (Pete Davidson) are coming to settle plenty of scores with Rocco’s extended brood.
There’s already much to keep track of, even before director Dito Montiel and writer John Pollono add in various time jumps and voiceover narration from young D.J. At times it feels like they’re both pushing too hard for nutty originality, desperate to put distance between this and other films you’ll be reminded of – especially Bad Times at the El Royale (also with Pullman).
What the film does have in its corner is a winning cast of vets who are all in on this dark ride. Of course, Murray and Coolidge are both a hoot, but Pullman and Postacchini seem believably desperate, Harris and Union hide their character secrets well, and Davidson brings a comically sympathetic layer to the doting and lethal Lonnie.
And when P.J. Byrne and Brooke Dillman pop in as an oversharing couple of suburbanites who are too clueless to be scared, their few minutes of exaggerated laughs are a welcome yin to the yang in the rest of the film.
It’s dry, bloody and violent, and is sure to be polarizing. If that’s an approach that speaks to you, Riff Raff can be downright hilarious. But chances are you may find this family crime caper as curious as it is funny.
Why is it that so many kids’ toys are creepy? Not that you should call The Monkey a toy. You should not, ever. Because this windup organ grinder monkey, with its red eyes and horrifyingly realistic teeth, is more of a furry, murder happy nightmare.
The film itself is a match made in horror heaven. Osgood Perkins (Longlegs, Gretel & Hansel, The Blackcoat’s Daughter) adapts and directs the short story by Stephen King about sibling rivalry and the unpredictability of death.
The delightfully low-key Christian Convery (Cocaine Bear) carries the first half of the film as young Hal and Bill, twins who discover their dad’s old closet full of knickknacks and collectibles, one of which will indiscriminately kill a lot of people. They boys eventually believe they’ve eliminated the beast, but decades later, the adult brothers (played with deadpan precision and one impressive mullet by Theo James) must contend with bloody monkey business once more.
Perkins surrounds his deliberately low energy leads with bizarre, colorful characters—even more colorful when they catch fire, explode, are disemboweled, etcetera. The film is laced with wonderful bursts of Final Destination-like bloodletting, as the Monkey’s executions are carried out via Rube Goldberg chain reactions that quickly become fun to anticipate.
Yes, fun. And funny.
There is a different tone at work here for Perkins. It’s one that is somehow both bone dry and silly, creating a dark humor that wallows delightfully in the pulpy carnage. His usual aesthetic of dreamy Gothic beauty is replaced by a more grimy, Earth tone palette that seems purposefully at odds with the stated time stamps.
And yet, underneath all of it you’ll find a meaningful layer that speaks to absentee fathers and generational trauma. There are disjointed moments, but only a few, thanks mainly to grounded reminders about the monkey’s shoulder-shrugging mantra: “everybody dies.”
Indeed. And if sometimes they need a little help, well, you can always wind up Furious George and take your chances.
Just months ago, Netflix thriller Carry-On rode a serious Die Hard vibe for a ridiculous bit of popcorn fun. Cleaner has much of the same in mind, borrowing some more specific plot points for Daisy Ridley’s turn as the fly in some terrorist’s ointment.
Ridley plays Joey Locke, an ex-soldier who still carries scars from an abusive childhood shared with her autistic brother Michael (newcomer Matthew Tuck). Joey is already struggling to hold on to her job as a window cleaner and make sure Michael is cared for, but her day is about to get much worse.
Joey’s latest gig is cleaning the windows at the London high rise where the Agnian Energy Corp is holding their annual gala. No, it’s not Nakatomi Plaza and it’s not Christmas Eve, but Marcus (Clive Owen) and his group of environmentalist activists crash the party with a plan to expose Agnian’s history of crime and corruption.
At least, that what Marcus thinks. His buddy Noah Santos (Taz Skylar) has more extreme plans, violently hijacking the operation and the building, with 300 hostages (including Michael) inside.
Their best hope? One pissed off Joey, right outside the glass, dangling high up on her cleaning platform.
At first, Joey is only thinking of Michael’s safety. But once inside the building, the anti-authority streak that got Joey kicked out of the military pushes her to go after the bad guys, and Ridley sells it with gusto.
Veteran director Martin Campbell (Casino Royale, Goldeneye, Memory) doesn’t waste time in getting down to business, and engineers some effective action set pieces both inside and outside the glass. And the team of screenwriters does arrange a surprise of two amid the mash of recycled ideas.
But when you have someone as talented as Ridley cast as the everywoman trying to save the day, the idea still works. She seems especially energized at the chance to get physical, and manages to pull the unmemorable Cleaner up to satisfying new heights.
Aaah, the old “video nasties” — movies banned from view to protect us from the untold damage they would do, their ruinous images. The idea that watching something could be our end is a fantastic source for horror. Horror filmmakers have taken that idea and run wild with it. Watching could make you mad. Making one could make you mad. Hell, just listening could do irreversible damage!
Thanks to Greg Hansberry of The Empty Coffin podcast for filling in for George this week! Today we celebrate the nasty videos that have propelled some of our favorite flicks.
6. Red Rooms (2024)
True crime culture. Serial killer groupies. The Dark Web. Does all of it seem too grim, too of-the-moment, too cliché to make for a deeply affecting thriller these days? Au contraire, mon frère. Québécois Pascal Plante makes nimble use of these elements to craft a nailbiter of a serial killer thriller with his latest effort, Red Rooms.
Plante expertly braids vulnerability and psychopathy, flesh and glass, humanity and the cyber universe for a weirdly compelling peek at how easily one could slide from one world to the other.
His real magic trick—one that remarkably few filmmakers have pulled off—is generating edge-of-your-seat anxiety primarily with keyboard clicks, computer screens and wait times. But the tension Plante builds—thanks to Juliette Gariépy’s precise acting—is excruciating. They keep you disoriented, fascinated, a little repulsed and utterly breathless.
5. Berberian Sound Studio (2012)
Madman Peter Strickland (In Fabric) made an entire film about sound, and it gets so much right. Not just about sound—about the era, the equipment, giallo sensibilities and moviemaking.
Strickland, working with a sound department of 34, creates a psychological experience through sound almost exclusively. The amazing Toby Jones plays Gilderoy, flown in specifically to helm the sound in a horror movie.
“This isn’t a horror movie. This is a Santini movie!”
Gilderoy’s arc is profound, and sound is our only window into what is changing him. We don’t see what he sees, only his reaction to it and the sound of it that makes his psychological breakdown believable.
4. The Ring (2002)
Gore Verbinski’s film achieves one of those rare feats, ranking among the scarce Hollywood remakes that surpasses the foreign-born original, Japan’s unique paranormal nightmare Ringu. Verbinski’s film is visually arresting, quietly atmospheric and creepy as hell.
This is basically the story of bad mom/worse journalist Rachel (Naomi Watts) investigating the urban legend of a videotape that kills viewers exactly seven days after viewing.
The tape itself is the key. Had it held images less surreal, less Buñuel, the whole film would have collapsed. But the tape was freaky. And so were the blue-green grimaces on the dead! And that horse thing on the ferry!
And Samara.
From cherubic image of plump-cheeked innocence to a mess of ghastly flesh and disjointed bones climbing out of the well and into your life, the character is brilliantly created.
3. Censor (2021)
Writer/director Prano Bailey-Bond crafts such a stylish, unsettling film with her ode to Britain’s “Video Nasty” era and the theme that censoring something ugly can somehow make it disappear.
Naimh Algar astonishes as Enid, a film censor whose childhood trauma and guilt resurface when a producer (Michael Smiley) invites her to watch a movie. A mystery—and Enid’s fragile sanity—unravel as Bailey-Bond develops a murky, fantastical and wildly horrific atmosphere that leaves you guessing and disturbed.
2. Videodrome (1983)
Videodrome was the last true horror and truly Canadian film in David Conenberg’s arsenal, and it shows an evolution in his preoccupations with body horror, media, and technology as well as his progress as a filmmaker.
James Woods plays sleazy TV programmer Max Renn, who pirates a program he believes is being taped in Malaysia – a snuff show, where people are slowly tortured to death in front of viewers’ eyes. But it turns out to be more than he’d bargained for. Corporate greed, zealot conspiracy, medical manipulation all come together in this hallucinatory insanity that could only make sense with Cronenberg at the wheel.
Deborah Harry co-stars, and Woods shoulders his abundant screen time quite well. What? James Woods plays a sleaze ball? Get out! Still, he does a great job with it. But the real star is Cronenberg, who explores his own personal obsessions, dragging us willingly down the rabbit hole with him. Long live the new flesh!
1. Peeping Tom (1960)
Director Michael Powell’s film broke a lot of ground and nearly ended his film career. People tend to react badly to horror movies that unnerve them, which is really odd given that this is the entire point of the genre. Peeping Tom pissed everybody off, maybe because—like Michael Haneke’s films Funny Games—Peeping Tom implicates you in the horror.
Mark (Karlheinz Bohm) had a difficult childhood, developing a bit of a voyeuristic hobby to help him cope. He starts off with prostitutes, filming them, capturing their terror as he kills them. He’s a voyeur, but who can throw stones? Didn’t every one of us who’s ever watched this film— or any other horror movie, for that matter—sign up to do exactly what Mark was doing?
Bohm’s great success is in making Mark unsettlingly sympathetic. Powell’s is in using the audience’s instincts against us. Bohm makes us feel bad for the villain, Powell makes us relate to the villain. No wonder people were pissed.
