I've heard of the neon demon, but a neon Christ?
A portrait of crises of faith, Rohrwacher is careful to balance her criticisms of religious indoctrination with understanding of the reasons for such fervour. As always, there is a striking ambition to give an epic weight to the quotidian struggles of Calabria. Even at this early stage in her career, Rohrwacher can make rural rugged Italian landscapes look beautiful and soul-sapping simultaneously. Louvart makes even the height of noon look…
Stylish but slight, with absolutely nothing to say. The campy mood (as heightened by the dialogue, costumes, and pretty boys) makes this more laughable than memorable. Happy for Almodóvar that he got that genre urge out of his system.
While you’re all over there rooting for Emma Stone and Carey Mulligan, I’m flying the flag for Tülin Özen.
Read my interview with writer/director Selman Nacar here.
Schrader is broken, and out of fucks to give. What results might be his finest film since First Reformed. Gere and Elordi are able dance partners in creating a portrait of a man whose hatred of his own cowardice has metastasized. Thurman quietly works wonders again, while Phosphorescent brings an apropos Neil Young-esque soundscape to bear. Schrader has more ideas and energy behind the camera than directors half his age. For all the religious and political strife at work in…
