Reviewing movies since 1984, online film critic since 1998. Here you will find a film essay or review, interviews, and a focus on certain trends in current Hollywood, and what's eclipsed in favor of something more mainstream.
Monday, May 5, 2025
It's not okay
Thursday, May 1, 2025
Selfless and imaginative woman
An Appreciation by Jerry Saravia
"Amelie" is a young, innocent, kind French woman that I wish I knew. The historic Parisian town of Montmartre is a place I would love to live in. That is until you realize that the town exists but not in the way depicted in "Amelie." A young woman like the beaming Amelie working as a waitress at a Parisian cafe may not exist either. That is the movies for you! "Amelie" is a wonderful romantic fantasy about a selfless, imaginative woman who wants to do right by others until she realizes she can also do right by herself.
Audrey Tautou is Amelie, a performance on par in my distinct cinema memory with Giulietta Masina's performance in the riveting and partly whimsical "The Nights of Cabiria." Of course, Amelie the character and the movie are completely different from Fellini's film. The film explodes with a colorful feast of vignettes, from Amelie's early years as a precocious child seeking her father's love, to the accidental death of her mother and to her years as a young woman seeking men and working in the cafe, an actual cafe in Montmartre called "Café des 2 Moulins." Amelie notices certain details that others might not notice, like the fly as seen in a background scene from the film "Jules and Jim." She also notes a grocer's irrational behavior to his co-worker - the grocer lives in her apartment building and she gets even with him in unexpected, non-violent ways. During the sad news broadcast of Lady Di's death, Amelie is shocked to find a box containing personal items and trinkets hidden in one of the bathroom panels. She finds the owner of the box, a 50-year old man, and when he discovers it in a phone booth where he hears the phone ringing, it so elated me, it so moved me that I just wanted to hug Amelie for an amazingly empathetic gesture. She also does wonders for her idiosyncratic father (Rufus) - an invalid only in his mind - with a traveling garden gnome that just made me laugh like crazy. There are others Amelie helps and each of their situations develops so exquisitely and tastefully that you'll be hoodwinked and bedazzled by the narrative construction.
If "Amelie" had centered only on Amelie's good deeds that she performs unbeknownst to the people she helps, it would have been a real winner already. The movie also crosses into Amelie's discovery of romance for a man she barely knows, a sweet good-natured man known as Nino Quincampoix (Mathieu Kassovitz) who collects discarded, sometimes torn photos from photo booths. So Amelie helps people with attaining happiness in their lives, and she is smitten with a man who finds solace in photos of people he collects and keeps in a photo album. The stars of romance become aligned and Amelie better take that leap - it may be a chance that she may regret not taking.
"Amelie" is so life-affirming, so precious in tone and style with abundant uses of the colors red and green that it could be too much of a good thing for most - the vibrant colors show how much passion and zest she has for life. The film is heavily stylized by director Jean Pierre-Jeunet ("Delicatessen") yet it proved to be very satisfying - like a cup of hot chocolate that brings warmth to your body and mind. Amelie has that effect on people and, it turns out, on herself. She sees herself in a Renoir painting that the older downstairs neighbor (Serge Merlin), who has very brittle bones, paints a replica of every year. She helps a mean grocer become kind in ways that you have to discover for yourself. Amelie is an angel and her beatific smile and puppy dog eyes alone should be just cause for any jaded person to smile a little and feel a sense of comfort. Maybe there aren't people exactly like Amelie in the world but one can only hope. I adore "Amelie" with all the heart and soul I can muster.
Tuesday, April 29, 2025
Dull Cronenberg is better than no Cronenberg?
Endured by Jerry Saravia
David Cronenberg has always been our most fanciful body horror go-to director. His films in the early years, such as "Scanners" and "Videodrome" not to mention the ersatz pleasures of "Shivers", were more geek show than profoundly thematic pictures though they possessed some unusual ideas about the connection between technology, the body and sex. Since the 1980's, Cronenberg has crafted more complex meditations on those very same themes, sometimes thrillingly as in his adaptation of Burrough's "The Naked Lunch" and sometimes with a naked honesty in the opaque "Crash," also an adaptation of almost unreadable prose by J.G. Ballard. Leaving aside some exciting, unforgettable efforts like "A History of Violence" (the best films of the 2000 decade) or "A Dangerous Method," he can veer into subjects that are non-body horror. "The Shrouds," and his recent "Crimes of the Future," are attempts to dwell a little more intricately into the bizarre connections between sex, tech and body. For my own sanity, I hate to report that "The Shrouds," a very personal film for the director, is a silly bore.
Vincent Cassel (the live wire actor who always made an impression on me since "Hate") is Karsh, who has been grief-stricken over the death of his wife, Becca (Diane Kruger), so much so that he has invented a shroud, a mesh that covers a corpse in their burial site. This mesh (which in one incredulous scene he decides to wear to know what it is like) is an app-controlled device that allows visitors to a cemetery to view the corpse on the screen attached to a dark monolith-looking tombstone! Karsh owns the cemetery, known as Gravetech, and the restaurant that is adjacent to it! Yes, you read that right. Karsh even has a blind date with someone to whom he shows a video of his decomposing wife in real time! How so decidedly Cronenbergian! If I ever go on a date with someone again, the last place I would consider is a cemetery regardless if I owned it.
It is around this point that I lost interest in "The Shrouds." That is not to say that there was not a germ of intrigue when Karsh finds that someone has violated the cemetery monoliths and that a possible foreign intervention occurred, either by the Chinese or the Russians. What begins as a story of grief quickly dissolves into some sort of quasi-thriller where the thrills are absent. If it wasn't a political ploy, was it his go-to cyber guy (Guy Pearce), Karsh's former brother-in-law, who is more than a little paranoid? Was it Becca's own doctor whom she turned out to be sleeping with? Did I stop caring and keep passing out? You bet. I was not expecting a conventional movie at all but I found precious little here to keep me invested.
Director David Cronenberg has maintained a washed-out digital sheen to this film that can grate the nerves and induce eye-shutting. There were times where the characters were so shrouded in darkness, mostly in Karsh's apartment, that it was difficult to discern any emotions on their faces. It is not the actors' fault - they are up to the challenge and Cassell is as live-wire as he can be, Diane Kruger shows an electrifying intimacy, Guy Pearce plays a paranoid schizophrenic better than anyone, and there is a touch of the erotic in Sandrine Holt as a blind woman who is slowly dying. Maybe to Cronenberg, everyone is so dead in their own right - thanks to technology becoming so entrenched in their lives - that everything looks colorless. Maybe dull Cronenberg is better than no Cronenberg. I'd rather watch "The Naked Lunch" again.
Tuesday, April 22, 2025
Fortress of Solitude
I was reminded by a film fan today how these 21st century A.I. movies always have super advanced female robots at a male creator's disposal. Recently I saw the entertaining "Companion" that had the fantastic Sophie Thatcher at is center and had to check out Alex Garland's directorial debut, "Ex Machina." I found that both movies have their similarities yet one is a little more profound than the other. You guessed it, it is Garland's film that decides to explore its ideas of A.I intelligence and discover if robots can be sentient. No surprise, they can be and we have seen this concept before ever since the HAL computer found that it did not want to be excluded from human beings' decisions. Sentience has always entered the picture.
"Ex Machina" begins with a fairly decent coder, Caleb (Domhnall Gleeson), who works for a search engine company called Blue Book. He has won some competition where he gets a grand opportunity to meet the CEO of the company, Nathan (Oscar Isaac). Nathan is your typical CEO living in an isolated wilderness section with its own key card security clearance; it is an essentially modernized, computerized home with a little taste. Nathan also has a full beard, works out with a punching bag and drinks copious amounts of alcohol - he is seemingly a regular guy with too much wealth. Meanwhile, Caleb has to sign a disclosure agreement that warrants secrecy about what Nathan has invented that is far beyond any technological improvements on search engines. The invention is a female robot named Ava (Alicia Vikander) who has a partial see-through mesh endoskeleton and is being kept in a glass-encased room. Caleb is to have daily sessions with her, to determine if she can extrapolate deep thoughts and have a consciousness. Ava seems to have an innate ability to do so (she clearly has been programmed to) yet she might have some thoughts about her creator, thoughts shared only when the power occasionally goes out.
"Ex Machina" is fascinating and has a sense of inevitability that is clearly predetermined. I figured Nathan had some designs on Ava and a mute servant, Kyoko (Sonoya Mizuno), that shows he is abusing his power - if someone is that isolated from the world, can someone go mad with their creations and with their one servant whom Nathan sleeps with? Of course they can go mad since movies and literature about mad scientists are ubiquitous. What is exciting and uniquely original about "Ex Machina" is that Oscar Isaac doesn't play Nathan as a mad scientist/inventor but as a guy who has created a woman robot for the most prurient of reasons, certainly way beyond "Weird Science." He is an approachable guy, up to a point, and drinks merrily. Gleeson's Caleb is a smart twenty-something who has deep philosophical questions for Ava only Ava has romantic interests in Caleb. Can Caleb convince himself that Ava is someone he can date or does he realize he is possibly being played by an alert, intelligent robot who can tell when he lies? Think the computer HAL except in female form.
There is nothing new in "Ex Machina" in its exploration of such prescient themes that go way back to Mary Shelley's "Frankenstein." Also much of what occurs with Ava, Nathan and Kyoko you can see miles ahead. Still, I was taken in by Nathan's modernist, creepy habitat and by the conversations between Caleb and Ava that lead to an inevitable need for Ava to break free. You be a female robot who is cooped up in a room 24 hours a day - an escape to the area's surrounding woods and beautiful rocky formations is what anyone would need from such solidity. Maybe Nathan, Kyoko and Caleb need it to.
Monday, April 21, 2025
There has to be an easier way to get a date
"Companion" is an anti-AI, anti-technology movie, pure and simple. Well, to be fair, it also shares the humanism of "Blade Runner" and "A.I" that robots do in fact want to be loved - that is to say, if they are programmed to love. I know, I know, "Blade Runner" had replicants, not robots technically, which meant they were flesh and blood humans with super strength and implanted memories. While watching "Companion," memories of "The Stepford Wives" emerged which had robot wives replacing actual wives by murdering them. "Companion" is cut from a different cloth - it is goofy, explosively violent satire with a silly plot that nevertheless serves as a warning about reliance on technology and using it as a replacement for a human companion.
The bright colors of a supermarket and a young, openly sweet woman with a bright outfit pushing her cart down the aisles greets the opening scenes of "Companion" and you might feel you have wandered into an average romantic comedy. Of course, you haven't really - it is a memory implant in a female robot, a servile bot for an eager Gen Z man who should be able to score a date with, you know, a flesh-and-blood human girl. The robot is Iris (a fantastically alive performance by Sophie Thatcher) and her boyfriend, or her masculine master to some, is Josh (Jack Quaid). Josh is seemingly appealing enough and a good boyfriend for Iris. They are en route to a desolate lake house owned by a purportedly Russian mobster (Rupert Friend) who is married yet has a girlfriend named Kat (Megan Suri), who is none too pleased by the presence of Iris. Other friends in attendance include the fun-loving couple Eli (a sprightly Harvey Guillén) and Patrick (Lukas Gage) with Patrick being an exemplary cook. The following day Iris is...I just can't say any more.
"Companion" brings up the ethics of having a female bot as a companion without spelling it out. It also intermittently brings up issues of an ideal romance and an ideal couple - can that fantasy exist in normal human couples? I am sure it can so why did Josh, a good-looking guy, go this route. Why is a female AI companion considered normal in this world? Or is it already with AI chats with fantasy women online - we don't have female bots with human characteristics in our homes yet but is that future not too far behind? Does a man really want a servile woman straight out of the 1950's world when feminism was not popular? A sign of regression, perhaps, because Iris does resemble a 1950's woman. The comparisons to "The Stepford Wives" should be unmistakable, that is the 1975 film although this film seems to crib the 2004 remake's satirical barbs.
The movie is swiftly paced at 97 minutes and as appealing as Thatcher's Iris is, the rest of the characters (excluding the boisterous Eli who has some sort of moral code) are unappealing and I would not want to spend two minutes with them. Josh becomes something of a bastard whose good looks mask his contempt for Iris and his greedy, selfish side. Same with Kat who is as equally self-absorbed. The Russian mob guy with 12 million dollars at his disposal turns out to be a repugnant person as well. Patrick is a well-meaning guy who has a secret I will not reveal here.
"Companion" turns into a blood-soaked thriller and, though it often had me on the edge of my seat, the razor thin plot dealing with this Russian guy's fortune is forgettable and is a boring nuisance (how many times have we seen this idea explored before?) "Companion" is at its best with Sophie Thatcher's potentially star-making performance, a ray of sunshine in a robot that acts a little too human. The implications of having a robot companion are occasionally explored and you have to sift through some gunfire, a curious sheriff, 12 million dollars and a little blood to get there. There has to be an easier way to get a date.
Thursday, April 17, 2025
Rigidity and Dignity at Darlington
James Ivory's "The Remains of the Day" is a masterful, implicitly delicate drama of a career butler isolated from his emotions. The butler's dedication as a servant to a lord of the manor is commendable yet it means he is choosing to sacrifice love and is seemingly bereft of feelings - dignity, as it were. Witnessing such a man under lesser hands would've been excruciating and justifiably depressing yet with director James Ivory and a supreme actor like Anthony Hopkins, it becomes immensely absorbing handled with finesse and restraint.
Hopkins is Mr. Stevens, the English butler of Darlington Hall in the 1930's - a manor in the middle of a vast countryside. Stevens has quite a staff at his disposal that includes maids, footmen, and the reliable kitchen staff. There's a hierarchy implicit in Lord Darlington (James Fox), again the lord of the manor, and all the heads of state that regularly visit Darlington Hall including British and German aristocrats who see no need to hand the reins of the government to the non-aristocratic working class. There is also a hierarchy in the servant class where Mr. Stevens expects to be addressed as such without mention of his first name. This leads to several arguments between the fanatically precise Stevens and the newly hired housekeeper Miss Kenton (Emma Thompson, one of the more emotionally grounded performances she has ever given). Kenton keeps an eye on Mr. Stevens' father (Peter Vaughan), also newly hired as an under-butler after having 50-plus years of service, who is too old to maintain proper service and has an accident where he trips while delivering a tray of food. A waiter he cannot manage and the old man unfortunately dies. What does his son, Mr. Stevens Jr., do upon learning of his father's death? He continues his job, never expressing much emotion though it is clear that he is affected by it. The job dictates complete confidence and capability in doing it yet surely he could've expressed his sadness. This is the definitive Anthony Hopkins performance and one that should be celebrated as one of the greatest cinematic gifts of the 20th century - it is a towering, thrillingly realized performance of extreme subtlety and nuanced body language.
Most of "The Remains of the Day" is the depiction of Mr. Stevens as a man unfazed by not having close relationships or any possible romance with Miss Kenton. He also hopes other young servants who wish to climb higher in the field will not succumb to romancing the maids or anyone else in the household. Mr. Stevens has applied these principles to his own life, his life of servitude is all that defines him. When he is clutching a sentimental book on romance that he refuses to divulge to Miss Kenton, she has to remove it from his hand and you sense he could almost caress her and touch her hair - he just chooses not to.
Political discussions occur in front of Mr. Stevens who, once again, attends to his servile manner and has no opinion on such matters. He later finds that times are changing and the servant class is already on the decline (historical reports cite the early 1900's as the beginning of such a decline in England). There is a flashforward to 20 years later when the newspapers have sullied Lord Darlington's name and his reputation destroyed for being a Nazi sympathizer. Mr. Stevens is still employed at Darlington Hall yet it is now the home of a former American congressman (Christopher Reeve), Jack Lewis, who is quite wealthy and more open to Mr. Stevens' thoughts on household matters and vacation time. Jack had been reticent of supporting Germany when he visited Darlington Hall in the 1930's and we can tell, observing those rigid medium shots of Hopkins' Mr. Stevens, that Stevens is well aware of what was being said at those dinner banquets with all those foreign and domestic dignitaries - how could he not be aware? He is choosing to be blissfully ignorant but he also claims to read voraciously and we can only assume what grand selection of books Darlington has. Stevens could have been a man of stature if he chose (he pretends to be a gentleman at bar in the flashforwards), a man who could've climbed high in the arena of politics ("Realpolitik" as Mr. Lewis says). Stevens has been privy to many conversations between these aristocrats, knows how they think and their disdain for the lower classes, and still chooses not to expound or follow through such matters.
"The Remains of the Day" is a sad, morose, exquisitely made tale and the sadness is in Mr. Stevens. It shows Stevens' has implicitly acknowledged in latter years that he has lost what he could have had. A life with Miss Kenton was in his future if he chose it yet, and this is what breaks my heart for him, when he has a reunion with Miss Kenton after her divorce, he is still choosing not to get romantically involved. You see Hopkins showing his eyes well up recognizing a life of service that has consumed him - it is all he ever knew. Love was around the corner and he chose a different route. When Miss Kenton takes off in a bus and we see her in tears, we also know it will be the last time they will ever see each other again. He's back at restoring dignity to Darlington Hall, all in a lifetime's work.
Monday, April 14, 2025
He just wants to be liked
"Zelig" is no one, a complete nobody with no prospects and no sense of individuality. He is an isolated man, an insecure and antisocial nerd (pardon the parlance) who has an amazing ability - he can transform into other people just by being around them. He is a human chameleon who never finished reading Moby Dick. Why Moby Dick? Maybe because that is funnier than say "The Great Gatsby."
Woody Allen's deliciously entertaining and highly unusual mockumentary is still howlingly funny from start to finish. Allen is completely convincing as Zelig, seen mostly in still photographs or faked newsreel footage where he stands alongside Eugene O'Neill or Warren G. Harding. Set during the late 1920's, it is conceivable that such a man like Zelig would capture the public's imagination and become synonymous with the likes of Charles Lindbergh. While adopting chameleonic capabilities, he transforms briefly into an Asian, a black musician, a "perfect" psychiatrist (which is what Zelig mostly believes he is) and even a mobster holding a cigar! Some of these transformations are likely to cause offense in 2025 yet, considering the time period it depicts, it only makes sense to bring up different ethnicities since Zelig wishes to be liked by everyone. To be fair, Allen as writer-director doesn't poke fun at other ethnicities, he merely becomes them without turning them into stereotypes (some will still find this film racist no matter what, call it cultural appropriation or whatever). Zelig becomes an instant freak show, exploited by his sister as if he was a circus freak. Allen digs deeper, showing Zelig as a human being who has a special ability that is never explained. The KKK never see him as anything other than a triple threat - you know, Jewish, black and a Native American.
The crux of the film and its humanity is Zelig's developing relationship to his doctor Fletcher (Mia Farrow), a psychiatrist who is trying to cure him of his abnormal condition. She invites him to stay in her country home and film their talks, with Zelig fully aware he's being filmed and still believing he's a psychiatrist. One hysterical moment has Zelig under hypnosis as she asks him questions and tells her that he's in love with her and that her pancakes are of questionable taste.
"Zelig" then dovetails into the amazing man's scandals, including fathering children with women he married. This causes a ruckus and forces Zelig to make a public apology, especially to the man whose appendix he took out ("If it's any consolation, I may still have it somewhere around the house".) Eventually, after being spotted in a crowd where Hitler makes one of his fiery speeches to the Nazis in a newsreel, Zelig eventually is back in America after Dr. Fletcher helps him escape. Their escape includes making a revolutionary flight around the world that not even Lindbergh could've bested - they fly the plane upside down!
"Zelig" is hilariously eccentric at every minute and has a warmth and sincerity to it - it feels like an authentic document of an authentic man yet it has a sunniness to it beyond its satirical trappings. Seeing it now, it feels like it embraces Leonard Zelig with a nostalgic glow, despite all the ups and downs of his life. His one regret is that he never finished reading Moby Dick. You just can't help but like Zelig for that.






