THIS WEEK IN MOVIES: Caught Stealing, Night of the Juggler

By Jorge Ignacio Castillo

Caught Stealing (USA, 2025. Dir: Darren Aronofsky): I’m normally in the bag for any new Darren Aronofsky film. I would even defend Mother! from its many haters. Aronofsky is the rare filmmaker capable of making emotional depth cinematic. Watching his characters succumb to their darker angels (Black Swan, Requiem for a Dream) is both horrifying and entrancing.

The Austin Butler vehicle Caught Stealing has to be Aronofsky’s most nakedly commercial movie to date and could be thought of as a money gig. However, the auteur has been around the block enough times to put together a very serviceable caper, one in which every plot point pays off and dares to venture into very dark corners without becoming a chore.

Caught Stealing takes place in New York, 1998. Butler (making the most of his time in the spotlight) is Hank, a bartender whose shot to become a professional ball player ended in spectacular fashion. Whenever not drinking his sorrows and watching baseball, Hank is a pleasant, fundamentally decent fellow. His lover (Zoë Kravitz) believes he’s a stone’s throw away from becoming boyfriend material.

But personal growth becomes the least of Hank’s problems when his punk rocker neighbour (Doctor Who’s Matt Smith) asks him to take care of his cat. Soon he’s been beaten up by Russian mobsters, chased by ill-tempered Hasidic Jews (Liev Schreiber and Vincent D’Onofrio should be lobbying for a spinoff), and treated by the police with suspicion. And Hank has no idea why.

Every cast member is stellar in this (even Bad Bunny in a bit of stunt casting). The film regularly wrong-foots the audience and isn’t afraid to break one or five genre conventions. The script by Charlie Huston (Powers) is airtight and clever, with a surprisingly harsh take on alcohol. ‘Learn to forgive yourself’ is hardly a groundbreaking message, but at least in Caught Stealing, it’s an earned one. ★★★★☆

Notes:

• If you want to tell a story that takes place in New York some (not long) time ago, better open with a shot of the Twin Towers. Everyone else is doing it, including Aronofsky.

Caught Stealing is now playing everywhere.

Night of the Juggler (USA, 1980. Dir: Robert Butler & Sidney J. Furie): There are few settings more cinematic than New York in the 70s. The Big Apple is ridden with corruption and crime and exudes an “anything goes” vibe. It’s a melting pot that combines the divine and the profane, powered by unchecked capitalism: Taxi Driver, The Panic in Needle Park, Klute, The French Connection, Mean Streets, The Taking of Pelham One Two Three, Three Days of the Condor, Across 110th Street. All dark, all sublime.

Night of the Juggler came out in 1980 (shot in 1978), but it’s very much of the era. In fact, one could argue it foretold the end of New York as Babylon by making gentrification the villain’s driving force. But Juggler isn’t a thinking piece. It’s a propulsive, kinetic thriller with very little fat.

An insouciant James Brolin is Sean, a former cop-turned-trucker looking to spend a pleasant day with his teenage daughter. Instead, said daughter gets kidnapped by a volatile man (Cliff Gorman, All That Jazz) driven to insanity by his neighbourhood going to the dogs. The perp mistakes Sean’s daughter for a real estate heiress and refuses to believe otherwise. Meanwhile, the police are more concerned about the optics than the well-being of the girl, leaving Sean with no other option that conducting his own investigation. It gets messy.

This movie is “a product of its time” (euphemism for “super racist” and “there’s no way that girl is 18”), but if you look past the uncomfortable bits, Night of the Juggler is very entertaining, particularly the opening fifteen-minute-plus chase, in which a desperate James Brolin tries to catch the psycho by any means necessary (as a father, I can relate). Mid-movie we’re treated to a young Dan Hedaya as a corrupt detective firing his shotgun indiscriminately in Brolin’s direction, passers-by be damned. You can taste the 70’s in that sequence. ★★★½☆

Notes:

• Another fun nugget comes courtesy of a young Mandy Patinkin as a Puerto Rican taxi driver all too willing to follow the perp. You knew immediately Patinkin was bound for stardom.

Night of the Juggler (4K Restoration), one-night-only show at the Rio Theatre, September 18, 9.30 PM.

DON'T SLEEP ON: Oh, Hi!

By Jorge Ignacio Castillo

Oh, Hi! (USA, 2025. Dir: Sophie Brooks): Indie films’ path to the big screen has never been more treacherous. It’s not just the challenge of finding distribution or getting attention in a profoundly fragmented market. They can also get scooped up by streamers and end up lost in a never-ending menu — unheralded and unseen.

Oh, Hi! made it through, on the strength of a sharp script and a superb performance by Molly Gordon. Until now, Gordon’s most notable roles have been as self-possessed and sardonic young women in Booksmart, Theatre Camp, and The Bear. In Oh, Hi! she finally gets to show the cracks in her cool-as-a-cucumber facade as Iris, a young woman burned one too many times by unworthy suitors.

Iris thinks she may have met “the one” in Isaac (Logan Lerman, The Perks of Being a Wallflower), but mid-vacation he informs her he doesn’t want anything serious. Iris doesn’t take the news well and chooses to follow her inner Annie Wilkes: Isaac must realize they’re soulmates, even if that means chaining him to a bedpost until he “comes to his senses”.

The dramedy unfolds intelligently and adds some solid pinch-hitters (Geraldine Viswanathan and John Reynolds) midway through to stop the premise from running out of steam. Because the film aims to remain grounded, the comedic possibilities are never fulfilled, but it’s fun enough to hold your interest, with one or two ideas that resonate beyond the screen. ★★★☆☆

Oh, Hi! is now playing across Canada.

THIS WEEK IN MOVIES: Cloud, Don't Let's Go to the Dogs Tonight

By Jorge Ignacio Castillo

Cloud (Japan, 2024. Dir: Kiyoshi Kurosawa): One of Japan’s most interesting yet low-key filmmakers, one could place Kiyoshi Kurosawa next to Kitano and Miike. I would argue he’s even more gifted. While almost as prolific, Kurosawa’s hit/miss ratio is much higher. His horror output is strong (Cure, Pulse, Creepy) and his dramas have teeth (Tokyo Sonata, Serpent’s Path). His formula is simple: take a social malaise, turn it into a genre movie.

Cloud is not at the same level as Kurosawa’s best work, but it’s not easily dismissible. The ideas are there. They just fail to coalesce into a storyline worth unspooling.

Yoshii (Masaki Suda) is the film’s unpalatable lead. While gifted in terms of brains and leadership, Yoshii doesn’t care about building something or becoming someone. He’s laser focused on making money and his strategy is buying low and selling high any worthwhile merchandise he can get his hands on.

Given his line of work, Yoshii is bound to rub some people the wrong way and by the time he’s forced to relocate to the countryside, he has a healthy roster of chumps who want him dead: dissatisfied clients, jilted bosses, and aggrieved former associates. Even as the net tightens on him, Yoshii is relentless in the pursuit of profit.

Yoshii’s unlikeability and the fact he’s not a particularly interesting crook (let alone human being) hampers Cloud’s impact. Following a lengthy slow burn, by the time the chickens come home to roost, as a viewer I didn’t really care about his fate. The only thing Yoshii has going for him is that his pursuers are either bigger losers or worse criminals than him.

Towards the end, the film hits full allegory mode to underline the message hammered throughout: there’s no value in the modern incarnation of capitalism, and it’s a form of prison unto itself. Fair point, but how about letting the script cook a bit longer? ★★½☆☆

Cloud is now playing in Toronto, Vancouver, Edmonton, Calgary, Charlottetown, Saskatoon, Ottawa, Victoria, and Waterloo. Opens July 25th in Kingston.

Don’t Let’s Go to the Dogs Tonight (South Africa, 2024. Dir: Embeth Davidtz): A Hollywood staple of many decades, pigeonholed in roles of “brainy beauty” (see Bridget Jones’ Diary, Matilda), Embeth Davidtz breaks through as both director and performer in the fierce, oddly titled character study Don’t Let’s Go to the Dogs Tonight, based on the Alexandra Fuller memoire.

Set against the final days of the Zimbabwean War for independence which culminated with the election of Robert Mugabe, the film depicts the unraveling of a white family struggling with radical change. The audience’s stand-in is Bobo (remarkable newcomer Lexi Venter), an seven-year-old girl struggling to make sense of an environment in flux.

While perceived as foreigners by the locals, Bobo’s family believes they’re intrinsically linked to Africa. They have a large farm and are willing to protect it, particularly Bobo’s mom (Davidtz), who has children buried in the land. But it’s the girl the one who has it right: growing up in Zimbabwe means exploring its contradictions and rise above the racial divide.

The Bush War and the transformation of Rhodesia into Zimbabwe is a fascinating subject seldom explored in movies. Director Davidtz is both astute by focusing on the country’s warped reality and perhaps too cautious when fleshing up the characters. The family dynamics are broad, and so are the interracial tensions. Regardless, as directorial debuts go, this is a strong, assured start. ★★★☆☆

Don’t Let’s Go to the Dogs Tonight is now playing across Canada.

THIS WEEK IN MOVIES: Predator: Killer of Killers

By Jorge Ignacio Castillo

Predator: Killer of Killers (USA, 2025. Dir: Dan Trachtenberg, Joshua Wassung): First thing you need to know before reading this review: I’m not the biggest Predator fan. I find the character one-dimensional and his ethos doesn’t resist analysis. Are you going to tell me in the world of Predator nobody does anything besides hunting? What happens if I’m a predator and I prefer, I don’t know, alien chess? Do I become prey? Also, who develops all that funky technology? It can’t be the meathead dwellers of this planet.

Yes, I’m fully aware there’s an entire comic series that partially tackles these issues. No, I’m not going to read it as a movie should stand on its own merits and not in whatever backstory the villain may have.

If the Predator is a one-note antagonist, the burden of carrying the movie is on the humans. They’ve been up to the task only in the two first movies (the one with Schwarzenegger and the one with Danny Glover). The humans in The Predator, Predators, and Prey barely registered, and the least we say about the Alien vs Predator saga, the better.

Predator: Killer of Killers isn’t unbearable, but as in his previous foray in the franchise, director Dan Trachtenberg takes the titular character and himself way too seriously. This isn’t Shakespeare, no matter how many blood relatives you pit against each other.

The film is structured like an anthology, featuring three self-contained stories of warriors facing a predator in different periods of history: A Viking chieftain, two samurai siblings in feudal Japan, and an American pilot during WWII, all underdogs with nothing on the creature but their ingenuity.

There’s a fourth segment that brings everything together, which I would rather not spoil here. It’s arguably the weakest portion of the movie and shed undesired light onto the problems I mentioned previously. The Predator is frequently championed as a fair fighter. How fair can it be when he can turn invisible and use weapons generations ahead of ours?

The one element that makes Predator: Killer of Killers slightly more interesting than previous entries in the franchise is the animation. Elegant and merciless, the enhanced 2-D look elevates the been-there-done-that material. It nearly justifies watching the film. Nearly. ★★½☆☆

Predator: Killer of Killers is now playing in Disney Plus.

THIS WEEK IN MOVIES: Rust

By Jorge Ignacio Castillo

(Rust. USA, 2024. Dir: Joel Souza): There’s one thing I wasn’t expecting from Rust, the infamous western in which cinematographer Halyna Hutchins lost her life when a prop gun loaded with live ammunition went off: a good movie.

Yet that’s exactly what I got.

Don’t get me wrong. Rust doesn’t reinvent the wheel or break new ground like, say, Unforgiven. But for an indie movie marred by tragedy, the outcome is sturdy, enhanced by strong turns by Travis Fimmel and, yes, Alec Baldwin. Because this is a review and the circumstances of Hutchins’ death have been extensively covered, I’ll only address them when relevant to the film’s critique.

The stakes are set very early in Rust. Lucas (Patrick Scott McDermott), a thirteen-year-old rancher in charge of his little brother, kills by accident a man he owed money to. Without parental support let alone money to hire a lawyer, Lucas is swiftly sentenced to hang. The night before the execution, Lucas is scooped from jail by his outlaw grandfather, Harland Rust (Baldwin), who kills the custodians and pretty much anybody who gets in his way.

The rescue leads to a manhunt that sends every bounty hunter in the West after them. A particularly nasty one known as Preacher (Vikings’ Travis Fimmel) racks a body count comparable to the fugitives. The law is represented by the honorable and utterly boring Wood Helm (Josh Hopkins). Whenever Rust cuts to whatever Helm and his men are doing, the movie stops in its tracks. Considering the feature is 139 minutes long, it feels indulgent.

Rust hits the best western tropes: The gruff gunslinger getting reaquainted with his conscience, the merciless up-and-comer hot on his trail, and the honourable authority figure acting on a set of laws he doesn’t believe in.

Hutchins’ vision (completed by her colleague Bianca Cline) drives the film more than the plot, for better or worse. The New Mexico vistas and late 1800s recreations are stellar. The muted tones add to murky morals at play. But, do I need two inconsequential vignettes to demonstrate Preacher is a terrible human being? He already looks like Biff Tannen in Back to the Future, I’m positive he’s up to no good.

I don’t know who needs to hear this, but Alec Baldwin is excellent in this movie. Back doing drama after a long stint in comedy, game shows, and reality television, Baldwin does the slipping of the mask to perfection. His role as Harland Rust is reminiscent of the one that got him his only Oscar nomination, a ruthless casino mogul with a heart in The Cooler.

Because Rust is bound to be mentioned in the same breath as The Twilight Zone and Midnight Rider as a cautionary tale, it’s unlikely to be thought of in terms of quality other than now, while in theatres. In that spirit, I’ll give it ★★★☆☆ (3/5).

Rust is now playing in Toronto, Whitby, Burlington, Vancouver, Langley, Ottawa, Calgary, Edmonton, Saskatoon, and Halifax.

DON'T SLEEP ON... The Penguin Lessons

By Jorge Ignacio Castillo

The Penguin Lessons (UK, 2024. Dir: Peter Cattaneo): Steve Coogan is the ultimate acquired taste. Casual observers might dismiss him as a self-absorbed jerk. People who have followed his career a bit are aware Coogan can be extremely funny (see Alan Partridge in any of his incarnations). Avid Coogan fans know there’s an undercurrent of melancholy that runs deep in his work and he’s capable of greatness (The Trip saga, Philomena).

While The Penguin Lessons isn’t upper-echelon Coogan, it’s undeniably charming—and I’ll be damned if it didn’t make me tear up at the end. Directed by Peter Cattaneo (The Full Monty), the dramedy uses the fish-out-of-water approach to make a point: to live a full life means to commit to something. It’s undeniably more painful than hovering above it all, but is far more fulfilling.

Set in Argentina in the 1970’s, the country —like most of Latin America— is enduring a string of coup d’etats at hands of the military. These circumstances fail to deter English professor Tom Michell (Coogan) from taking a teaching post at a posh academy in which sons of politicians and generals prepare for a gilded future. It’s a dirty job, but someone has to do it.

As much as Tom would like the world to believe he’s completely detached, he’s primed to re-engage, first by connecting with a young caretaker at the academy with ties to the revolution, and later by rescuing a penguin from an oil spill to impress a woman. After nursing him to health, Tom’s efforts to offload the flightless bird fail until he grows attached. Through this unlikely bond, Tom realizes that his once-radical self wasn’t dead—just dormant.

The Penguin Lessons doesn’t stray far from the animals-as-source-of-redemption blueprint, but Coogan elevates the material (it’s very much in his wheelhouse). The role fits him like a glove and his relationship with the penguin is genuinely touching.

Worth mentioning, The Penguin Lessons is no I’m Still Here, the masterful Brazilian drama about missing political disidents. The film’s portrayal of Argentina under fascist rule lacks nuance, and the Spanish dialogue is painfully basic for those fluent in the language. But if you go in with tempered expectations, The Penguin Lessons delivers a perfectly pleasant, middlebrow experience. ★★★☆☆ (3/5)

The Penguin Lessons is now playing across Canada.

THIS WEEK IN MOVIES: Misericordia

By Jorge Ignacio Castillo

Misericordia (France, 2024. Dir: Alain Guiraudie): As America continues going through something and their movies reflect it, it’s a good time to remember there’s provocative and nuanced cinema to be found, if you know where to look.

Fresh from competing in eight categories at the César Awards (and winning none), the intriguing thriller Misericordia arrives in North American cinemas. Directed by Alain Guiraudie, who has an uncanny ability to incorporate queer subjects into genre films, Misericordia is Kafkaesque in the same way Stranger by the Lake is Hitchcockian.

The film revolves around Jérémie (Felix Kysyl), a young man visiting his hometown following the death of his former boss, the local baker. His arrival is welcomed by the widow (Catherine Frot, Marguerite), but no one else. Vincent (Jean-Baptiste Durand), the baker’s son, is suspicious of Jérémie’s motives and his hostility grows the longer the outsider stays.

The movie strongly hints at a romantic entaglement between Jérémie and the deceased, the likely root of Vincent’s mistrust (the widow is surprisingly cool about it), but that's just the starting point. The tension between Jérémie and Vincent soon leads to bloodshed, but if you think you have the character-types figured out, think again.

Writer/director Guiraudie’s refusal to provide clear answers can be maddening, but adds to the increasingly surreal atmosphere. Characters act ilogically (like humans often do) and seem inescapably tied to one another and their two-horse town, even though it’s obvious they’d be better off elsewhere. Expect some nudity, whether you like it or not. 3 stars (out of five).

Misericordia is now playing in Toronto, Ottawa, Vancouver, Edmonton, Sudbury, and St. Catharines.

DON’T SLEEP ON… The Substance

By Jorge Ignacio Castillo

The Substance (USA, 2024. Dir: Coralie Fargeat): Following a relatively muted response at the North American box office (US$16 million, compared to 29 million abroad), The Substance hits streaming and on-demand services. It still packs a punch and seems designed to send your in-laws running during the holidays (“what about this movie, The Substance? Nothing says middlebrow like Demi Moore.”) 

The Best Script winner at Cannes this year presents us with this conundrum: what if we could be young again, but every other week? It’s painful, it’s dangerous, but you’ll look like a million bucks.

Elisabeth (Moore, delivering one of those performances people love calling “brave”) agrees to the bargain. She’s an actress-turned-fitness maven who has given her physical appearance all the weight in her decision-making process and now is failing her. Given the opportunity of being young again, Elisabeth takes it, never mind the multiple red herrings.

The procedure, packeted like a meal delivery service, involves birthing your younger self and trust ‘the other’ to take care of your body on the weeks off. The basic principle behind the technique is “two bodies, one person”. Unfortunately for Elisabeth, Sue (Margaret Qualley) —her younger self— turns out to be a brat and absconds of her responsibilities. But two can play that game… 

Because the message of The Substance is so obvious (guess what kids, love yourself as you are or expect a life of misery and dissatisfaction), Fargeat has a lot of fun with the concept. Demi Moore’s body endures the agony of hell. In turn, Margaret Qualley embodies the arrogance of youth to perfection. Nothing can prepare you for the outcome of the inevitable faceoff, so I won’t spoil it here.

For all the things The Substance does right (world building, the depiction of the male gaze as inherently toxic, Dennis Quaid as a coked-out TV executive), the film is so detached viewers may have a hard time getting emotionally invested. It’s more like watching an alien nature documentary about the lengths humans would go to remain forever young. 3 ½ stars (out of five). 

The Substance is now available on demand and in MUBI.

THIS WEEK IN MOVIES: Blitz

By Jorge Ignacio Castillo

Blitz (UK, 2024. Dir: Steve McQueen): There’s one advantage that Blitz has over most “Battle of England”-inspired films: it has Steve McQueen at the helm. Not only the filmmaker can create poignant tableaux about the black experience (most notably Twelve Years a Slave) and urban malaise (Shame). He also makes them look good.

Blitz is a stunning, no expense spared experience (Apple TV+’s calling card), yet there’s more to it than eye candy. McQueen does something few war films from the Allied perspective have dared in the past. Instead of showing the Brits as a single, stoic body steadfast in the face of unfathomable odds, the filmmaker chooses to focus on the cracks: the pervasive racism, the class divide, and moral shortcomings of many. The “keep calm and carry on” mantra was only skin deep.

The drama is anchored by Rita (Saoirse Ronan, having herself a year) and her nine-year-old son George (newcomer Elliott Heffernan). It’s 1940 and Nazi Germany is bombing London nightly. There’s little for civilians to do outside turning the lights off and seek shelter, preferably underground. Rita decides to send George along with hundreds of children to the countryside to keep him from harm.

George is not having it and very quickly ditches the train and heads back home. His journey goes from picturesque to Dickensian to Painted Bird (almost). Rita, in turn, must deal with deep emotional pain and impending doom on nightly basis.

There’s a disparity between George’s fascinating trip and Rita’s predicament. The kid’s odyssey is thrilling, intriguing, and painful. George is black and his race permeates every interaction, even the positive ones. This is a rarely seen approach and McQueen deals with it both delicately and bluntly, depending on the circumstances. Rita’s journey is more internal (navigating the heartbreak of losing George’s dad and open herself to new possibilities), but by no means dismissible.

At times Blitz is a notch tropey and wastes a perfectly good Harris Dickinson (Triangle of Sadness) in a pointless role, but the shortcomings are far fewer than the things McQueen gets right. Blitz reminds us empathy doesn’t always come naturally, but putting an effort is worthwhile. Maybe it should have opened before the American election. Four stars (out of five).

Now playing in select theatres in Canada. Blitz will premiere globally on Apple TV+ on November 22.

DON'T SLEEP ON... The Critic

By Jorge Ignacio Castillo

The Critic (United Kingdom, 2023. Dir: Anand Tucker): Because of his personal appearances and undoubtedly The Lord of the Rings trilogy, the general public thinks of Ian McKellen as an avuncular, charming figure. Even his Magneto in the X-Men saga was great company.

But if you dig a bit deeper, you’ll find that McKellen’s filmography is peppered with dangerous characters with a hard edge: a Nazi in hiding in Apt Pupil, a career conman in The Good Liar, a manipulative psychiatrist in Asylum. The Critic mines McKellen’s ability to be unsavory, yet real and recognizable.

The year is 1934. Fascism gains steam in London, and the anti-gay laws are enforced mercilessly. Even as dark forces crept in, Jimmy Erskine (McKellen) reigns supreme.

The most influential theatre critic in town, Erskine thinks of himself as untouchable, even as his paper, The Chronicle, is openly disposing of the “old guard”. His poisonous pen could make or break careers, like Nina Land’s (Gemma Arterton), a starlet beloved by audiences but one that failed to gain the persnickety columnist’s approval time and time again.

The critic’s fallout is two-pronged: the paper’s owner and Erskine’s champion has died and his son Brooke (Mark Strong) doesn’t share his father’s same appreciation for sarcasm and malicious wit. Shortly after the scion takes over the reins of The Chronicle, Erskine is arrested for engaging in lewd acts and gives Brooke the perfect excuse to fire him. In desperation, he offers Land good reviews at perpetuity as long as she seduces the straightlaced Brooke. 

For as long as the film is focused on Ian McKellen’s character, it’s smooth sailing. As salty and roguish as Erskine is, he was shaped by a society that imposed their morals on him. He finds a space where he matters, and you can bet he’ll defend it with every weapon on reach.

Unfortunately, there’s a plotline that sticks out like a sore thumb: Land’s love affair with Brooke’s son-in-law, Stephen (Ben Barnes). Since the movie is an adaptation of the book “Curtain Call” by Anthony Quinn (not Zorba, another one), it’s clear this detour would have worked better in a novel than in 95-minute movie.

Outside McKellen and Mark Strong’s performances, the writing is also worth your attention. Playwright and occasional scriptwriter Patrick Marber (Closer) peppers the movie with bon mots and reflections about the critic’s job (“There is art in you, Miss Land. My disappointment is in your failure to access it” is a beauty of a putdown.) As thinking movies go, this one is serviceable, if not memorable. 3/5 stars. 

The Critic is now playing across Canada.

DON’T SLEEP ON… Strange Darling

By Jorge Ignacio Castillo

Strange Darling (USA, 2023. Dir: JT Mollner): Thrillers that rely heavily on a twist have a limited shelf life (remember The Uninvited? A Perfect Getaway? The Invitation? Relax, nobody does) The ones that remain transcend the gimmick by providing more substance, usually in the form of well-rounded characters (The Sixth Sense) or good writing (Fight Club). 

Strange Darling understands the assignment. At the heart of the film you’ll find two profoundly damaged people with two default modes: fight or flight. The movie doesn’t stick the landing, but for a good portion of it, it’s intriguing. 

Divided in six (scrambled) chapters and an epilogue, Strange Darling opens with a woman known as “The Lady” (Willa Fitzgerald, Reacher S1) running for her life from a shotgun wielding lunatic the movie calls “The Demon” (Kyle Gallner, Smile). The Demon is competent and proficient, while The Lady makes questionable decisions like stopping for a smoke.

An early flashback reveals they had met the night before in a classic hookup-gone-awry scenario. Both The Lady and The Demon are commitment-phobes and spend a fair amount of time negotiating the boundaries for their one-night stand. Yet the expectations for both go unfulfilled by a country mile. 

To tell you more about the plot would be ruining the fun but know neither lead is fully a saint or a sinner (both are awful). Also, be on the lookout for all-too-brief performances by Ed Begley Jr. and Barbara Hershey as former hippies who are also terrible judges of character.

While I applaud director JT Mollner’s efforts to subvert expectations, the twist is fairly easy to spot as the possibilities are limited. Furthermore, it often feels that Mollner is stretching a single idea. In corporate parlance, this could have been an email. There’s also an overreliance on Willa Fitzgerald’s histrionic capabilities, too much of an ask for an actor that’s competent, but not sufficiently charismatic to carry the film. 2 ½ stars (out of five).

Strange Darling is still playing in theatres across Canada.

DON’T SLEEP ON… National Anthem, Young Woman and the Sea

By Jorge Ignacio Castillo

(Remember when movie titles had articles? Kids today…)

National Anthem (USA, 2023. Dir: Luke Gilford): A low-key talent, Charlie Plummer is one of the most exciting young actors out there… for those paying attention. His forlorn turn as a teen craving stability in Andrew Haigh’s Lean on Pete should have made him a star. Instead, Plummer has been bouncing around indies of dubious quality.

Luckily, National Anthem is one of the best ones. Plummer is Dylan, a withdrawn construction worker dreaming of driving an RV across America, away from his problematic mother (an unrecognizable Robyn Lively). In need of cash and to provide for his little brother, Dylan takes a job as a ranch hand for a community of queer rodeo performers.

New to this environment, Dylan falls head over hills for Sky (Eve Lindley), a transgender woman who’s also sweet on him never mind her preexisting relationship with the commune’s chieftain.

If you expect high drama from National Anthem, you have another thing coming. While there’s a triangle of sorts, the attention is focused on Dylan’s journey of discovery: his first chance to explore his sexuality is bound to be messy. The gentleness of the film towards the characters is commendable, but also counterproductive as deprives the story of any propulsion (conflict is every drama’s secret sauce). Regardless, this is the kind of films people with no knowledge of the transgender experience should be exposed to. Bring the Trumpian in your household. 3/5 stars. Now playing in theatres.

Young Woman and the Sea (USA/UK, 2024. Dir: Joachim Rønning): There’s something reassuring about Disney sports movies: there’s no ambiguity, subtext, or narrative shenanigans. The villains are circumstances and caricatures, not people. They’re as easy to digest as warm soup.

Young Woman and the Sea fits the mold: it was the roaring twenties. Women’s sports weren’t considered feminine, and most parents would rather dissuade their daughters from getting involved in that kind of activity (it would spoil them for marriage). Alas, German immigrant Trudy Ederle (Daisy Ridley) would not be dissuaded. Not one to roll over, Trudy beats the measles, misogyny, the American Olympic Committee, chauvinism, the English Channel, and toxic masculinity to become one of the most celebrated swimmers of the twentieth century.

Based on real events, Young Woman and the Sea is effective in what sets out to do: bring down the patriarchy for about two hours. Directed by water specialist Joachim Rønning (Kon-Tiki, Pirates of the Caribbean V), the film features several ‘pinch hitters’—Christopher Eccleston, Stephen Graham, Fleabag’ Sian Clifford— to elevate the material. Not the most malleable performer, only Ridley comes short (somehow, I didn’t buy her as a 16-year-old.) She swims a lot and probably got super fit, so there’s that. 3/5 stars. Now playing in Disney+.

THIS WEEK IN MOVIES: Robot Dreams, Longing

By Jorge Ignacio Castillo

Robot Dreams (Spain, 2023. Dir: Pablo Berger): Don’t be fooled by the clean, simple lines of the Academy Award nominee for Best Animated Feature. Robot Dreams is a poignant dramedy about companionship and how relationships can both tear you to pieces and build you up. It’s also an indictment of the culture of disposability, a main force behind the climate crisis that currently enfolds us.

At the center of this dialogue-free feature is Dog, a lonely Manhattan dweller longing for someone to share his life. As hot-blooded creatures continue to disappoint him, he opts for purchasing an artificial one. Robot is the perfect fit: pleasant, accommodating, and game for anything. The twosome has a grand time until a day at the beach separates them to no fault of their own. Will they find their way to each other?

Robot’s journey is often heartbreaking. Easy prey for users and the self-serving, Robot has little control over his situation, but faces every challenge with an open mind while fantasizing about a reunion with his friend. In turn, Dog tries to get Robot back, but one can’t help but think he could put a little more mustard on his efforts.

Despite the weighty issues the film deals with, Robot Dreams is a delight. So much so, it makes Earth, Wind & Fire’s “September” feel fresh again. It’s a more emotional experience than most live action films out there. Four stars (out of five).

Robot Dreams is now playing in Toronto and Montreal.

Longing (Canada, 2024. Dir: Savi Gabizon): Richard Gere deserves a far better career than the one he currently has. Declared persona non grata in China (the actor has been consistently critical of the communist regime), no movie starring Gere has opened across the Pacific since his heyday as Julia Roberts’ romantic foil. Now Gere can only be found in indies (Norman), films unlikely to make any money in China (Nights in Rodanthe), and now Canadian-made dramas.

The former leading man does his darndest to save Longing, but there’s no way to rescue this unreservedly silly drama in which none of the leads have any common sense and the characters that do are treated as villains. Gere dusts his successful-businessman™ persona to play Daniel, a confirmed bachelor who agrees to have lunch with an old flame (Xavier Dolan regular Suzanne Clement). Lo and behold, turns out he had a child (yay!) and now he’s dead (boo).

Without asking for as much as a blood test (the kid looks nothing like him), Daniel goes to his hometown, visit his biological son’s school, meets his classmates, chats up the stunning teacher the kid was stalking (Diane Kruger as your average Hamilton, ON educator), and takes everyone at face value. As days go by and he’s unable to leave town for one reason or other, Daniel comes to the realization there’s no value in being rich, handsome, and single. He should have had a kid.

A remake of an Israeli film with the same scriptwriter and director (Savi Gabizon), Longing is mannered and progressively ridiculous. At the same time is profoundly backwards thinking in subjects like disability and abortion. You can’t help but feel bad and a little embarrassed for Richard Gere, delivering overcooked dialogue as if it was the highest form of poetry. Here’s hoping Gere’s next Great North adventure (Paul Schrader’s Oh, Canada!) is worth his (and our) time. Two stars (out of five).

 Longing is now playing in Vancouver and Toronto.

DON'T SLEEP ON... Ezra

By Jorge Ignacio Castillo

Ezra (USA, 2023. Dir: Tony Goldwyn): The portrait of autism on screen has improved slightly since the days of Rainman (1989 Oscar for Best Picture, embarrassingly). Alas, it continues to be presented as a superpower more often than it should. The Accountant, The Good Doctor, and the execrable Music come to mind.

 Ezra has a few narrative problems but at least tries to keep autism grounded. Granted, it leans on clichés here and there —the autistic lead takes everything too literally, has a tantrum whenever his boundaries aren’t respected— but considering the alternative, a layered neurodivergent character can be considered progress.

 The Ezra of the title (newcomer William A. Fitzgerald) is an autistic preteen trying to navigate grade school and his parents’ divorce. Ezra, however, isn’t at the center of the film. That role goes to his dad, Max (Bobby Cannavale, Boardwalk Empire), a comedian on the verge of breaking out. He and his former wife Jenna (Rose Byrne) are at odds regarding what kind of education should Ezra receive. Jenna wants to send Ezra to a specialized school, while Max believes his kid shouldn’t be coddled and must face the hardships of everyday life to be better prepared for adulthood (quite literally, the school of hard-knocks).

 A misunderstanding gets Max banned from contacting his son and Ezra set to join said learning institution. What is a sensitive parent to do? Kidnap the child and go on the lam across the country, of course.

 Directed by actor-turned-filmmaker Tony Goldwyn, Ezra is a mild family drama that benefits from strong acting. Cannavale is uniquely good at playing misguided hotheads with good intentions and Rose Byrne (Cannavale’s real-life partner) manages to remain likeable while saddled with the no-nonsense parent role. Robert DeNiro shows a bit more warmth than usual as Ezra’s grandfather, a man beset with regret over keeping his son at arm’s length when he was growing up.

 For an otherwise competent film, a major faux pas at the very end knocks half a star of this review. It’s not even plot related: someone thought it would be a good idea to do an unfunny bit with Jimmy Kimmel and put it in the movie. It’s so out of place, it feels like a contract obligation. 2 ½ stars (out of five).

DON’T SLEEP ON… You Can Call Me Bill, One Life

By Jorge Ignacio Castillo

You Can Call Me Bill (USA, 2023): William Shatner is a complex character. He is both a hammy actor and sci-fi icon; avuncular know-it-all and problematic figure (he’s a supporter of Autism Speak, on organization detested by many in the autistic community); environmental activist and corporate shill. Given the many angles available, I doubted documentarian Alexandre O. Philippe (78/52) would be able to fully capture the Shat in 96 minutes of footage, more so since he would be the only interviewee. Nobody to challenge his perception of himself or his surroundings.

You Can Call Me Bill covers a lot more ground than expected. Philippe allows Shatner to talk at length about his passions (space, the environment) and concerns (loneliness, insignificance) and in doing so, reveal plenty about himself. Extraordinarily sharp at 93, William Shatner is more self-aware than he lets on and his vision of a world in peril is unimpeachable. Sure, a bit more pushback would have been welcome, but the film is interesting in its own right. 3/5 stars.

 You Can Call Me Bill is now playing in theatres.

One Life (UK, 2023): When was the last time you ugly cried at the movies? I had a clean record for many years… until I watched this movie.

You’re probably familiar with the story: Nicholas Winton, a British stockbroker, successfully got 669 Jewish children out of Czechoslovakia in the early days of the Nazi occupation. Not one to brag about his actions, his story only came out to light over fifty years later. Consumed by the memory of the ones he couldn’t save, he failed to realize the impact of his efforts… until a TV show came calling.

While the direction by James Hawes (Black Mirror: Hated in the Nation) is rather unremarkable, One Lifebenefits of strong turns by Johnny Flynn (Beast) as the younger Nicholas Winton and Anthony Hopkins as the older. Hopkins is superb and the emotional center of the film. When he finally breaks down, you break down with him. 3/5 stars.

One Life is now playing in theatres.

THIS WEEK IN MOVIES: High and Low - John Galliano

By Jorge Ignacio Castillo

High and Low - John Galliano (UK, 2023): Few careers have come to a more abrupt ending than House Dior’s artistic director John Galliano. After dominating the fashion industry for nearly two decades, two antisemitic tirades in 2011 (one captured on camera) got him kicked out of the industry he helped transform and in hot water with the French justice system.

The documentary High and Low covers the incidents, but also the before and after to one of the greatest designers to notable effect. Director Kevin Macdonald (Whitney, Marley) isn’t here to condemn or rehabilitate Galliano. Instead, he tries to understand what caused the meltdown and whether he should be considered rehabilitated.

The top half of the film is dedicated to Galliano’s rise. A terribly compelling figure, it’s hard not to like the scrappy kid who oozes talent, but has no nose for the business aspect of fashion. His creations are impractical, operatic, hypnotic. Models like Kate Moss, Naomi Campbell and Amber Valleta are happy to work for free for the couturier, and finds champions in Vogue’s denizens André León Talley and Anna Wintour.

With success come responsibilities and, by the time of his fall from grace, Galliano was in charge of 32 collections per year. The level of stress and the need to tap into his creative side constantly led him to abuse alcohol and other substances. It’s not out of the question Galliano chose to commit social suicide, overwhelmed by it all.

John Galliano is at hand to discuss his life, triumphs and tragedies. He’s forthcoming about everything except the root of his antisemitic tirade. When asked, he’s cagey and seems confused by all the fuss. Director Macdonald lets us make our own mind and to me at least, he seems more sorry about getting caught than about what he said.

Worth mentioning, Galliano “did the work”, got sober and put himself under the tutelage of rabbis who taught him about the Holocaust. Yet he didn’t apologize to the victim of his rant, still pained by the experience, and kind of dressed like a Hassidic Jew for kicks.

High and Low is fascinating for multiple reasons. You can come for the clothes, the scandal or the so-called redemption arc and feel satisfied by the end. A slam dunk. 4/5 stars.

High and Low - John Galliano opens Friday 15 at Hot Docs Ted Rogers Cinema in Toronto and VIFF Theatre in Vancouver.

THIS WEEK IN MOVIES: The Beasts

By Jorge Ignacio Castillo

The Beasts (Dir: Rodrigo Sorogoyen. Spain, 2022): After telling a Spanish friend in passing about my dream of buying a summer house in the Iberian Peninsula, his only comment was “do you have twenty bucks?” It was his way of saying acquiring property isn’t a problem per se, but there are issues that come with buying cheap.

Watching The Beasts reinforced his point. A superb thriller winner of last year’s Goya for Best Picture, the issues the film trades on (bigotry, gentrification, social stagnation) are all so palpable, they make the story hit harder.

Hoping to have a go at living off the land, a French couple —Olga and Antoine (Marina Fois and Denis Menochet)— buy a farm in Galicia. Any hope for a quiet existence goes down the drain when they find themselves at odds with the townies, particularly the Anta brothers (Luis Zahera and Diego Anido), over selling the land to a wind energy conglomerate. Olga and Antoine are the only holdouts.

The hostilities between the neighbors escalate. For the Anta siblings, the offer is their best shot to escape poverty and the French couple is on the way. You just know the dispute won’t end well.

Director Rodrigo Sorogoyen does a masterful job at escalation and foreshadowing, aided by extraordinary performances by Denis Menochet (Monsieur LaPadite in Inglourious Basterds) and Luis Zahera. We’re meant to sympathize with Olga and Antoine, but Sorogoyen refuses to dismiss the townies’ grievances. There are no bigger tragedies than the ones caused by villains who think of themselves as crusaders. A must see. 4/5 stars.

The Beasts is now playing in Toronto, Ottawa, Edmonton, Hamilton, Sudbury, Vancouver, Waterloo, and Windsor.

THIS WEEK IN MOVIES: The Flash

By Jorge Ignacio Castillo

Editor’s note: Here at The Canadian Crew we believe in reviewing the art, not the artist. Our review of The Flash won’t be affected by the events that have surrounded Ezra Miller in the last year. We reserve, however, the right to make a sarcastic remark or two.

(The Flash. Dir: Andy Muschietti. USA, 2023): The DCEU in its current incarnation is coming to an end. The creative team headed by James Gunn and Peter Safran is bringing new ideas to the fore and, while they claim it won’t be a clean break, it won’t be the same as imagined early on by Zack Snyder.

One could argue about the merits of the Snyderverse movies, but the casting has been by large spot-on. Cavill, Gadot, Momoa. All terrific. Never mind their behavior of late, Ezra Miller belongs in that group. A breath of lightness among heavy drama, the Flash was the one reliable source of joy regardless of who was at the helm.

Now at the center of his own movie, the Flash reveals shades that make him more compelling than any of his two-dimensional companions at the Justice League. We reencounter Barry Allen (Miller) feeling somewhat resentful. He thinks of himself as Batman’s janitor and is increasingly dissatisfied with his work-superhero life balance.

But his issues with the League are minor compared to the drama at home. Barry’s dad is in jail for killing his mom (he didn’t do it, the movie is quick to clarify) and his latest appeal is unlikely to succeed. In a fit of fury Barry realizes he can run so fast, he can turn back time. You know where this is going.

The Flash is not, by a long shot, the best superhero movie ever made, as hyperbolically was described early on. I would even venture the word-of-mouth strategy was more damaging than anything else. The film is fine: fun, well-constructed, strong enough to sustain the (increasingly annoying) idea of a multiverse. But live up to such hype, it does not.

Even though most promos have highlighted Michael Keaton’s return as Batman (delightful, but briefer than expected), the weight of The Flash falls squarely on Ezra Miller’s shoulders and they do a good job carrying it. Miller plays two versions of Barry, the one we know and his unburdened, cavalier younger self. Director Andy Muschietti (It) is particularly adept at balancing comedy and pathos and succeeds here as well, if at the expense of many supporting characters given thankless roles (Michael Shannon has it bad, but Antje Traue takes the cake).

It’s fair to wonder, why care about The Flash if the whole DCEU will be rebooted anyway? Here’s a thought: For the fun of it. Not every movie needs to be a franchise lynchpin. Think of The Flash as a self-contained adventure and you’ll have a far better time. 3/5 stars. The Flash is now playing.

THIS WEEK IN MOVIES: The End of Sex

By Jorge Ignacio Castillo

The End of Sex (Dir: Sean Garrity. Canada, 2022): Sex farces are a complicated affair. Unless the movie is extremely funny (The 40-Year-Old Virgin), daring (Y tú Mamá También), or has something interesting to say (The Graduate), odds are stacked against it.

The End of Sex has nothing going for it. It’s juvenile (it acts as if threesomes and sex clubs are inherently funny), but not particularly amusing. There’s pathos, but the movie doesn’t dare to explore it. It pretends to know about marriage, but it doesn’t come close to depict recognizable adult dynamics. It’s the kind of film a teenage boy would come up with.

Emma (Emily Hampshire) and Josh (Jonas Chernick), the couple at the center of The End of Sex, are content with their lot in life, although they’re aware something is lacking in the bedroom. Their daughters’ trip to camp gives them the chance to confirm it: the spark is gone.

Instead of talking about it, manage expectations, or consider counselling, they take the “spice up your marriage” route. Instead of reviving their sex lives, their hare-brained schemes cause further damage.

Directed by Sean Garrity (After the Ball) and written by Chernick, The End of Sex goes for the lowest hanging fruit every time. The movie doesn’t have characters but stereotypes and the moment it touches on something real, it sacrifices it for a comedy bit. The film is cohesive enough to be watchable, but if you’re looking for insight, try somewhere else. 1 ½ stars (out of five).

The End of Sex is now playing across Canada.

THIS WEEK IN MOVIES: Evil Dead Rise, Beau Is Afraid, Chevalier

By Jorge Ignacio Castillo

Evil Dead Rise (USA, 2023. Dir: Lee Cronin): Unlike in most horror movies, the malignant forces depicted in the Evil Dead franchise (the Deadites) are essentially undefeatable. Sure, Ash (Bruce Campbell) may be able to keep them at bay at extreme personal cost, but there’s no sure-fire way to destroy them.

This chapter in the saga knows this very well and successfully toys with the audience’s emotions. I’m guilty of thinking “there’s no way this movie will cause irreparable damage to a family” (a self-imposed rule most American horror films obey) and mere minutes later witnessed director Lee Cronin (The Hole in the Ground) breach every unspoken convention in the book.

Evil Dead Rise opens in a traditional setting, the perfunctory cabin in the woods, but quickly moves to a condemned building in Los Angeles. The few remaining dwellers are getting ready to move, including Ellie (Alyssa Sutherland, Vikings), a beleaguered mother of three. Unaware of her sister’s dire straits, Beth (Lily Sullivan), comes for a visit, burdened by an unexpected pregnancy and lack of prospects.

As luck would have it, an earthquake and teen curiosity conspire to unearth the third volume of the Necronomicon (the “Book of the Dead”). The text and accompanying spirits cause havoc among the family in a demonstration of evil far more transgressive than expected.

To its credit, Evil Dead Rise doesn’t use the jump-scare technique all that much. It’s thoroughly tense with genuine hair-raising moments (imagine The Shining elevator… from inside). The movie only falters when it doubles down on the gore at expense of character development: it wastes an opportunity to pursue more lasting unease as opposed to just temporary thrills. Still, as genre movies go, this is a solid performer. Three stars (out of five).

Evil Dead Rise is now playing in theatres.

Beau Is Afraid (USA, 2023. Dir: Ari Aster): While under no circumstances can be considered a dismissible artistic endeavor, Beau Is Afraid is the weakest of Ari Aster’s films to date. Granted, his two previous movies (Midsommar, Hereditary) are modern classics, but still, one has come to expect greatness from Aster.

Where Midsommar and Hereditary are tight and have clarity of purpose, Beau is meandering and obtuse. Did Astor need three hours to tell us in the most baroque way possible that maternal love can be castrating? No. Hitchcock did it in an hour fifty and using the pulpiest material available.

Alas, at least the first hour of Beau is Afraid is a complete riot, a smorgasbord of black comedy and modern neuroses with a dash of slapstick. The real feat would have been to sustain that pace for the entire movie. Three and a half stars (out of five).

Beau is Afraid is now playing in theatres.

Chevalier (USA, 2022. Dir: Stephen Williams): Imagine coming across the fascinating story of Joseph Bologne, the earliest European composer of African descent to receive widespread acclaim, and bungle it beyond recognition. It’s what happens with Chevalier, a drama that not only oversimplifies Bologne’s figure, but the entire French Revolution.

As portrayed here, Bologne (Kelvin Harrison Jr., Waves) was friends with Marie Antoinette (Lucy Boynton, Bohemian Rhapsody) and thought that because of his connections, he could run the Paris Opera. Instead, he becomes a target for racist oligarchs and cuckolded husbands. As he loses his privileges, he comes to the realization he should use his gift for more noble purposes.

A glorified soap opera atrociously written, Chevalier is at its best when generating unintended laughs: imagine the streets of Paris weeks before the Revolution, and Marie Antoinette decides this would be a good time to venture into the city to mend fences with her old friend, accompanied only by two guards walking a good ten feet behind. Two stars (out of five).

Chevalier is now playing in theatres.