In the midst of ever chaotic times
When the lineup for this year’s fest was announced, I confess to feeling pretty disappointed. It’s been a pretty good year for movies – at least as I observed from the outside – and this fall especially was looking to be jampacked. So you can understand my eagerly opening the page and feeling some of that enthusiasm deflate: no Ferrari, no May/December, Priscilla. Anatomy of a Fall and The Killer both ended up at the Ritz Five during the fest, and Killers of The Flower Moon was already out. Which isn’t to say it was a bad festival mind you; PFS managed to snag the latest from Hirokazu Kore-Eda, Ryuichi Hamaguchi, and Aki Kaurismaki among others, and the more obscure picks still managed to surprise me. But one does have to stare in jealousy as their friends at other fests get to see The Zone of Interest early after convincing yourself it’d be there.
I managed to see a lot more movies this year than almost any other, thanks in part to taking time off. Because of personal issues, I unfortunately had to miss some (The Holdovers, Dream Scenario) and I missed American Fiction due to a concert. With such expanded viewing, it felt as though my scores tended to become more even; call it growing older and wiser, or perhaps trying to be more evenhanded. I still managed to find quite a few that blew me away, and at least a couple to watch out for later. Making a top 10 actually felt hard for the first time in a long while; I can only imagine that the year end list will be murder. A few of those will end up on that list, some will be pushed to next year. As always, everything listed here is worth checking out, and a sign that PFS can still push beyond the crowd-pleasers to find something more unique.
1. Riddle of Fire – dir. Weston Razooli
Michael Lehrmann’s description of “if the kids from The Florida Project made a movie for $2 and it was fucking hilarious” might sound like a warning to some. I fell completely and totally under the spell of this wild blend of kids fantasy, S/NES RPGs, and Adult Swim style deadpan that had me laughing pretty much constantly. The key is a total control of its tone: taking place in Wyoming in some anachronistic vision of today as it follows 3 hellions on a quest to get their sick mom the perfect slice of blueberry pie so they can play video games. So many ways it could go wrong, but Razooli wisely dials back the anarchy to something a little more placid and avoiding easy intrusions of the adult into the fairy tale (not that it doesn’t happen). I can’t articulate it any better than how much the sight of them running through a grocery store in a silly pose had me guffawing; three perfect child performances in their occasional stumbling and crack timing, and a willingness to just go for it.
2. Monster – dir. Hirokazu Kore-Eda
The other side of a film starring children. Kore-Eda’s first Japanese film since Shoplifters unfolds at first as a mystery surrounding a conflict between a young boy and a teacher at his school. Shades of Asghar Farhadi creep in as more layers are revealed, more sides to the story shown. Where it truly shines is in its depiction of burgeoning gay love, the terror that it will be revealed, the need to destroy it despite that being the last thing you want. It’s a wonderful showcase for the child actors and a great mystery that blossoms the more context you receive.
3. The Settlers – dir. Felipe Gálvez Haberle
Chile’s submission for Best International Feature is a haunting revisionist Western drained of almost any thrills. Across a beautifully desolate landscape, three men – a Scottish soldier, an American cowboy, and a mixed-raced indigineous worker – trek on a mission to eliminate any native they see at the behest of the landowner. Haberle captures the various contradictions of colonialism: the hypocrisy, the need to consume everything despite “worth”, the rigidly enforced order no mater how much you give yourself to the empire. Bleak, brutal, and absolutely scathing towards the Chilean national mythmaking.
4. Red Rooms – dir. Pascale Plante
A techno-thriller that dangles a sordid little hook at the start: the trial of a serial killer who filmed himself torturing and murdering three young girls and sold the videos online, and a mysterious woman with an interest bordering on the obsessive. Plante’s film is horror in the way We’re All Going To The World’s Fair is, in that the subject matter itself is horrific but the director is far more interested in the type of person who chooses to follow it. Similarly, it’s smart about technology, not just in its depiction of process and things like ArchLinux, but in how the Internet can turn people into abstractions to be fanned over. Rather than sounding an alarm, it admits that there is something alluring about staring into the void, but warns that some things are unspeakable for a good reason.
5. Evil Does Not Exist – dir. Ryusuke Hamaguchi
It may be the shortest of Hamaguchi’s recent films, but by no means is it the lesser. While the title suggests something more sinister, the conflict between a remote community and the developers who want to build a glamping site falls in line with the director’s emphasis on quiet moments and relationships. Not to mention it’s unexpectedly one of the funniest films of the year (sample, after one of the developers compliments an udon cook for the soup warming him up: “That’s got nothing to do with taste.”) At it’s heart, it’s a film about how there really isn’t malice involved, but incompetence and impatience; things that can’t be applied so easily to nature, no matter how much control we think we have.
6. Tótem – dir. Lila Avilés
Another submission for Best International Film – Mexico’s in this case – follows a family as the gather together to throw a celebration for a gravely ill family member. Avilés presents small slices of life as seen through the eyes of a young girl coming to terms with the idea of death, captured with warmth and, yes, love. A wealth of animal imagery and superstitious elements lends an air of the mysterious, as if to highlight their importance to children whether they’re aware of it or not.
7. The Taste of Things – dir. Tran Ahn Hung
Cooking and food as an act of the deepest possible love. Tran Ahn Hung’s culinary fable has been the delight of critics since it premiered at Cannes (where he also won Best Director) and it’s easy to see why. The kitchen sequences alone are well worth the price of admission: vegetables sizzling, decadent lamb roasts, mouthwatering baked alaska. France chose it for submission at the Oscars and for the food alone, it should probably win, but it’s the love story between Juliette Binoche and Benoît Magimel that raises it beyond simple food porn.
8. The Breaking Ice – dir. Anthony Chen
Stark, beautiful winter landscapes form the backdrop for Chen’s story of three disaffected youth in China on the border of North Korea. A sort of romance, sort of friendship story, it has the power to sneak up on you if you aren’t careful. At its heart, it’s a tale of three lonely people coming together to share company and bond amidst personal and economic ruin, when living can be so hard. Simplistic, yet deeply affecting and in the end, hopeful.
9. The Green Border – dir. Agnieszka Holland
Extremely controversial in Holland’s home country of Poland, and for good reason: here’s an absolutely unsparing portrait of the hell faced by migrants coming into Europe, lured by promises of asylum then subjected to the world’s worst game of ping pong by guards and countries that see them as little more than bargaining chips and annoyances at best. It’s an angry film, and that anger at times threatens to dip into impotent rage at seeing a person who didn’t do anything get dragged through the mud. But Holland ultimately issues a call to arms of sorts, reminding us that we all have choices to make in this system, and pointing to something of a brighter future for those willing to fight for it.
10. This Closeness – dir. Kit Zauhar
Philadelphia native Zauhar’s second film is as claustrophic as its title, taking place in one single, nondescript apartment. She also plays one half of a couple, staying at an AirBnb for the weekend so her boyfriend can attend a high school reunion. Tensions are already high enough thanks to their rocky relationship, but they rise even higher once they learn that their awkward host will also be staying with them. Zauhar showcases a deft hand at composition, framing some exceptionally off-kilter and unique shots that nonetheless bring a sort of – if not beauty, than aesthetic pleasure – to the single space. Amidst jokes about getting prix fixe in Philly (side note: girl fuck you!!!!) and sequences of ASMR emerges a narrative about vulnerability and what it means to actually get close to someone, exploring whether staying in a relationship to not be alone is worth it in the end.
A few honorable mentions (because I can’t help myself): Upon Entry, Late Night With The Devil, Fallen Leaves, Sleep, Smoking Tigers
Life of the Mind 