The two wind up at a cinematograph, “the greatest attraction of the century.” The intersection of vampire and victim in front of a labyrinth of movie screens is telling, as Francis Ford Coppola’s take on the classic Bram Stoker material winds up collapsing history and cinema together. Read Next: Ji.hlava Programmer Haruna Honcoop on the Secret Cinema of Hong Kong, Oscar’s International Film Race Hits Road Bumps, Examining the Best Picture Race in a Year of Disruption, Toronto Film Review: ‘Heimat Is a Space in Time’, 'The Masked Singer' Reveals the Identity of the Lips: Here's the Star Under the Mask, With 'Mank,' David Fincher Returns to the Best Director Oscars Race, Michael Bay’s Covid-Inspired ‘Songbird’ Trailer Shows the World Ravaged by Pandemic, ‘Queen & Slim’ Actor Jodie Turner-Smith to Play Queen Anne Boleyn in Channel 5 Series, Taylor Swift Approved Her Song for This Unofficial Biden-Harris Ad, ‘The Mandalorian’ Season 2 Premiere: Is That ‘Star Wars’ Character Back From the Dead? takes its time building a mood of palpable dread, eking menace out of every social encounter faced by a British couple, Tom (Lewis Fiander) and Evelyn (Prunella Ransome), vacationing on the coast of Spain. Get the freshest reviews, news, and more delivered right to your inbox!

More often, though, Borat Subsequent Moviefilm teases big, wild comedic set pieces that end up deflating almost instantly.

British writer-director Remi Weekes’s His House opens with a striking montage of refugees crossing a war-torn Sudan and dangerously cramming onto a boat that will traverse choppy waters on an unimaginably long, treacherous journey toward England. Similarly, Borat’s elaborate transformation into Donald Trump in order to infiltrate CPAC presents a golden opportunity for some bread-and-butter Cohen antics, providing unsuspecting reactionaries with the perfect opportunity to tell the president they love (and, unwittingly, the audience) what they really think.

Pat Mullen is POV’s Online Co-editor, etc. Significantly more comedic, Alice Júnior focuses on a trans wannabe influencer, Alice (Anne Celestino), and her perfumer of a father, Jean Genet (Emmanuel Rosset), who move from Recife to a small town in the south of Brazil. The wrenching ambiguity of 2014’s Inherent Vice, in which Anderson fluidly dramatizes the psychosexual ecstasy, despair, and hilarity of corrosive commercialist annihilation, gives way in the book to Anderson’s 1997 breakthrough, Boogie Nights, which Nayman astutely sees as a virtuoso primitive work, an epic that (too) neatly bifurcates pleasure and pain into two distinct acts while disguising its sentimentality with astonishing camera movements and a tonal instability that’s probably equal parts intended and inadvertent. A trip to the Texas State Fair—with Borat disguised, as he is for much of the film, as a grizzled hayseed with a Prince Valiant hairdo—would seem to offer endless opportunities for up-close-and-personal pranks, but instead it’s largely just the backdrop for a few sight gags.

Niles Schwartz, The horror of Blood for Dracula derives in part from director Paul Morrissey’s unique ability to meld social critique, gonzo humor, and gore into a genre piece that’s ambivalent about the passing of eras.

Like Michael Reeves’s Witchfinder General, and set in roughly the same time period, Russell’s film serves as an angry denunciation of social conformity and the arbitrary whims of the political elite that effectively disguises itself as a horror movie.

The film’s soul-crushing finale makes it impossible to feel good about anything Laugier has depicted. Cast: Sope Dirisu, Wunmi Mosaku, Matt Smith, Malaika Wakoli-Abigaba, Javier Botet, Yvonne Campbell, Vivienne Soan, Lola May, Kevin Layne Director: Remi Weekes Screenwriter: Remi Weekes Distributor: Netflix Running Time: 93 min Rating: R Year: 2020. The Prison in Twelve Landscapes is a film about the prison in which we never see a penitentiary.

Just as some frames turn impressionistic, with borders of leaf patterns replacing more faithful forest scenery, the storyline’s edges are frayed just enough to give it the gentle distance of a tale recalled though the gauze of myth and memory. A disproportionately tall, spindly, and perpetually moist gray something or other, Larry is a gene splice of the Babadook and the monsters from A Quiet Place.

Dillard, John Carpenter’s 1995 sleeper is a lot of things: a noir, a Stephen King satire, a meta-meta-horror workout, a parody of its own mechanics. The Prison in Twelve Landscapes screens: Pat has also contributed to outlets including The Canadian Encyclopedia, Paste, That Shelf, Sharp, Complex and ran the former blog Cinemablographer. Everything that made the film so of its type should have rendered it unfit for expansion.

It is, then, a provocative juxtaposition for Nolasco to stage his queer kinkfest at the epicenter of the land of Bolsonaro.

and to receive email from Rotten Tomatoes and Fandango. Just as mist smears the borders between land, sea, and sky, it’s never clear to Elena whether Jean is really her long-lost son, though a certain affinity between them cannot be denied. A rich political allegory disguised as an art-house spooker, The Devil’s Backbone hauntingly ruminates on the decay of country whose living are so stuck in past as to seem like ghosts. Whether or not the answer surprises us during these cynical times, the aftermath is as disarming as it is disturbing. The Grand High Witch of this version, played by Anne Hathaway, has the same sashaying arrogance, but it’s more suited for a fashion show’s runway than a child’s nightmares. Director: Brett Story Screenwriter: Brett Story Running Time: 87 min Rating: NR Year: 2016, Interview: Isabelle Huppert Talks Elle and Things to Come, Review: The Hottest August Is a Rich Patchwork of Discontented Voices, Maryland Film Festival 2019: The Hottest August, Donbass, & American Factory.

When the filmmakers tell the man that they’re shooting a documentary, he regards them with an unforgettable gesture of respect: a facial inflection that reveals awe over a prosperous white-collar world of which he’s never directly known. Yet the film’s formal abstraction, far from creating emotional distance, is unexpectedly moving.

You can reach him at @cinemablogrpher. But there’s hope in brotherhood, and in negotiating the ghostly Santi’s past and bandying together against the cruel Jacinto (Eduardo Noriega), the film’s children ensure their survival and that of their homeland.

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Story never tells us her subjects’ names, and this decision bolsters The Prison in Twelve Landscapes’s bracing allergy to clutter, resonating as an affirmation, rather than a squelching, of humanity. (The police are shown to be restorers of order, though they serve that function almost inadvertently.)

That’s where the witches—who otherwise look like heavily made-up society ladies from a well-intentioned, awards-courting period film about the South—meet to remove their human camouflage and scheme about best practices for annihilating children from the planet. Daniel Nolasco’s Dry Wind and Gil Baroni’s Alice Júnior, both screening in the international section at this year’s NewFest, are refreshing in no small part because they find two Brazilian filmmakers telling stories set in regions of their country that are cinematically underrepresented and largely unknown to international audiences. The remainder of the film trades rapid-fire dialogue for quiet, painterly compositions, making it something of a spiritual successor to Michelangelo Antonioni’s L’Avventura and Alain Resnais’s Last Year at Marienbad. Story both strips the modern documentary of varnish and resists the urge to preach, which is remarkable considering the urgency of the subject matter: the singling out of African-Americans for legal prosecution in this country, a dressed-up version of Jim Crow laws that thrives as a business model.

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