SXSW with Abe: Violet

I’m thrilled to be covering SXSW for the third time. This year, I’m not in Austin, but watching films virtually and reviewing them as soon as I can.

Violet
Directed by Justine Bateman
2020 Spotlight

Many people experience self-doubt. Impostor syndrome can often set in at the worst possible moments, when work that has been legitimately done to get a person somewhere is invalidated by overwhelming thoughts that they don’t belong there or deserve to have achieved what they have. What that looks like and how it manifests can be different on a case-by-case basis, but those who experience crippling anxiety about the legitimacy of their decisions and their own self-worth can be very much impeded from success. Justine Bateman’s feature directorial debut offers a vivid, captivating vision of inner workings given all too much power.

Violet (Olivia Munn) works as an executive in film development, where she is forced to manage incompetent, lazy underlings and endure minimizing harassment from her boss and studio heads. The main reason she has done nothing to stand up for herself is that her every move and thought is criticized by a voice (Justin Theroux), which she refers to as the “committee” in her head. Optimistic conversations with a loyal friend (Erica Ash) and supportive temporary roommate (Luke Bracey) inspire her to consider something she has never done before – fight back against the committee and take charge of her life.

To convey what Violet experiences in her own mind, this film employs multiple techniques that serve as an assault on the senses. She frequently flashes to seemingly violent and unpleasant memories as the loud voice commands her not to do the brave or difficult thing, and cursive text appears scrawled across the screen to externalize what Violet wishes she could do in that moment. It’s a powerful combination of devices that proves impossible to ignore, and serves only to support the film’s narrative, which extracts key moments from a short time in Violet’s adult life that is evidently representative of a similarly subservient whole.

Munn is a fantastic choice to play the title role, channeling a deep frustration with Violet’s decisions that has built up consistently and yet always been knocked down again by that doubting and demeaning voice. It’s a very impressive performance stripped of any lightheartedness or charm that is slowly injected back in as Violet builds confidence and begins to resist. A flurry of recognizable faces provide support throughout but never distract from this simultaneously focused and schizophrenic portrait. Its denouement comes with conflicted morality, but it’s an entirely involved experience that isn’t easy to shake.

B+

SXSW with Abe: The Fallout

I’m thrilled to be covering SXSW for the third time. This year, I’m not in Austin, but watching films virtually and reviewing them as soon as I can.

I'm writing up some of the films I see for the brand new site Cinema Daily US. Head over there to read my take on “The Fallout,” a sensitive and powerful drama about the aftermath of a school shooting that won the Narrative Feature Competition Grand Jury Prize.

SXSW with Abe: Best Summer Ever

I’m thrilled to be covering SXSW for the third time. This year, I’m not in Austin, but watching films virtually and reviewing them as soon as I can.

Best Summer Ever
Directed by Michael Parks Randa and Lauren Smitelli
2020 Spotlight

There has been much made in recent years about representation in media. Actors earn accolades for transforming themselves into someone with experiences they can’t relate to or haven’t personally been through, and questions are asked about why someone whose life more closely resembles a role wasn’t approached for it instead. If someone can effectively mimic the way someone else acts, why shouldn’t the opposite be true, and is the aim of a performance to deceive an audience or to elicit an emotional response? This wonderful musical makes excellence use of a diverse cast to prove that acting requires energy and passion above all else, and other projects should follow suit.

Sage (Shannon DeVido) and Tony (Rickey Wilson Jr.) meet at dance camp and fall for each other. When the summer ends, Sage gets on the road with her mothers to the next place they can set up their marijuana-growing operation. Vehicle problems and Sage’s desire to have a normal life result in them putting down temporary roots in the same small town that Tony, who told Sage that he lived in Manhattan and went to a fancy private school, happens to be the star football player. As they are unexpected and awkwardly reunited, they become the targets of a popularity-seeking cheerleader (MuMu) and a rival football player (Jacob Waltuck).

This film has what it describes as a “fully integrated cast and crew of people with and without disabilities.” Like another beloved musical, “Hamilton,” this film opts for a position of radical inclusion, one that invites any actor to play any role, regardless of any physical or societal trait that might typically impede them from being cast. It’s a marvelously successful experiment, one that discovers extraordinary talent among all of its players. They sing, they dance, and they’re clearly having a good time, which, predictably, leads to an enthralling and enjoyable experience for audiences as well.

The entire ensemble is worthy of praise, but it’s worth singling out the superb turn by DeVido, who imbues Sage with a lust for life and a discerning eye towards ridiculousness that others don’t seem to possess. The dance numbers are fun and the songs, which include sing-along lyrics on the bottom of the screen, are also strong. While this clear sendup of “Grease” and other more recent high school-set musicals isn’t always sophisticated in its plotting, it’s a remarkably entertaining time, one that captures the best of the genre and executes it with a marvelously competent cast and crew.

B+

SXSW with Abe: In the Same Breath

I’m thrilled to be covering SXSW for the third time. This year, I’m not in Austin, but watching films virtually and reviewing them as soon as I can.

I'm writing up some of the films I see for the brand new site Cinema Daily US. Head over there to read my take on “In the Same Breath,” a riveting documentary about the resposne to the coronavirus outbreak in China and the United States.

SXSW with Abe: Swan Song

I’m thrilled to be covering SXSW for the third time. This year, I’m not in Austin, but watching films virtually and reviewing them as soon as I can.

Swan Song
Directed by Todd Stephens
Narrative Spotlight

People who don’t conform to what society expects of them often need to find their own supportive communities. One way of fitting in is to become known for a skill and to hone that craft. There is a degree of respect afforded to those who have proven themselves to be talented in a particular area that can overshadow any notions of them being peculiar or unusual. A career doesn’t last forever, however, and someone who felt deeply embraced in the prime of their lives may find difficulty getting back to a place of happiness and satisfaction, a sentiment explored in this decent human story.

Pat (Udo Kier) used to work as a hairdresser and run his own salon in Sandusky, Ohio. Now, he lives in a nursing home and leads a muted existence, hassling those charged with helping him and expressing little hope for his own future. When he is approached to style the hair of an old friend, Rita Parker Sloan (Linda Evans), for her funeral, Pat initially resists but then decides to set out for a long walk across town to reclaim the glory he once had and do one last job to prove to everyone – and to himself – that he still has what it takes.

Writer-director Todd Stephens describes this film, which he considers the third part of his “Ohio Trilogy” that also includes “Edge of Seventeen” and “Gypsy 83,” as an homage to the real Pat Pitsenberger. He remembers Pat as someone who contradicted the pressure for everyone to look and dress the same in his own hometown, walking around in bright clothes and fabulous outfits, paving the way for other gay men like Stephens to be able to have the courage to be themselves in small towns. Even if this showcase feels slow-paced and occasionally aimless, its fidelity to Pat’s identity is laudable, and this film definitely creates a space for him to be his authentic self.

Kier, who has recently appeared in violent roles in films like “Bacurau” and “The Painted Bird,” shared that he embraced the opportunity to move away from the “boring” standard of looking evil and killing people to play this real person and pay tribute to Pat’s legacy. It’s a fun and certainly different part for Kier, and he’s surrounded by a competent ensemble that also includes Michael Urie and Jennifer Coolidge. The film’s themes are indeed resonant but its execution is less riveting and emphatic, not nearly as engaging as its featured protagonist.

B-

SXSW with Abe: Not Going Quietly

I’m thrilled to be covering SXSW for the third time. This year, I’m not in Austin, but watching films virtually and reviewing them as soon as I can.

I'm writing up some of the films I see for the brand new site Cinema Daily US. Head over there to read my take on “Not Going Quietly,” a terrific documentary about activist Ady Barkan.

SXSW with Abe: Recovery

I’m thrilled to be covering SXSW for the third time. This year, I’m not in Austin, but watching films virtually and reviewing them as soon as I can.

Recovery
Directed by Mallory Everton and Stephen Meek
Narrative Spotlight

One of the most stressful concepts during the pandemic for those who have closely followed restrictions is the idea of travel. The nonchalant and dismissive responses that emphasizing how intense and off-putting it would be to need to drive somewhere and potentially come into contact with untold numbers of strangers elicit even more anxiety. Yet the health and wellbeing of someone more vulnerable is an excellent reason to risk it all, which serves as the catalyst for this very entertaining buddy comedy.

Blake (Mallory Everton) and Jamie (Whitney Call) are sisters with big plans for 2020. Those hopes go down the drain when coronavirus hits and they begin an intensive quarantining process where their few outings feature a fully involved sanitization process of body and clothing as soon as they reenter their clean space. When they learn of a COVID-19 outbreak at their grandmother’s nursing home, they brave the outside world to drive across the country and rescue her before their other sister, who is ignoring regulations to the point of being on a cruise while the world around her is locked down, returns to pick her up first and surely infect her.

This is a fantastic film for this moment, one that taps into the feelings that so many who realize just how unseriously others are behaving in the face of a wildly transmissible virus have. It’s validating to see that Blake and Jamie’s protocols are more stringent even than what some of this reviewer’s strictest friends have instituted, and also maddening when their practices don’t match up completely, like the failure to have a glove at the ready for a trip to a gas station or the non-universal wearing of masks in any outdoor public space. While it is possible that, like similar material that seems to be very popular at the moment, the appeal of this fare may fade over time, it’s an excellent snapshot of the present that really finds the funny in all of it.

This film works best thanks to its two leads, who wrote the script together while Everton codirected. They’re a pleasure to watch on screen together, playing off each other with superb comic timing and capturing the energy of sisters who are also best friends. The way they react to the horrifying things they encounter that make them never want to leave home again is priceless, and the dialogue they write for themselves is very entertaining. This film does veer into exaggerated territory on numerous occasions, but even when it’s not exactly realistic, it’s still wildly enjoyable. Everton and Call demonstrate enormous promise that’s already more than fulfilled here with a movie that’s sure both to delight audiences and hit too close to home in the best kind of way.

B+

SXSW with Abe: The Drover’s Wife: The Legend of Molly Johnson

I’m thrilled to be covering SXSW for the third time. This year, I’m not in Austin, but watching films virtually and reviewing them as soon as I can.

The Drover’s Wife: The Legend of Molly Johnson
Directed by Leah Purcell
Narrative Spotlight

In almost any civilization, people are quick to deem something they view as different from them dangerous and threatening. It’s easy to find innumerable instances of foreigners or natives being blamed by whatever populace pronounces themselves the dominant standard for crime, financial ruin, or any other societal ailment. Those who might be theoretically aligned with that typical group but have never really seen eye-to-eye with its tendencies or felt fully embraced are likely to be less discriminating and more open to seeing people for who they are. That openness on the edge of civilization is the subject of this slow-burn Outback period drama.

In 1893, Molly Johnson (Leah Purcell) looks after her many children while also very pregnant with her next child. Her husband has been absent for some time, working as a drover for sheep for long stretches. Sergeant Klintoff (Sam Reid) and his wife Louisa (Jessica De Gouw) pass through en route to the lawman’s new post, where his first task is to hunt down Yadaka (Rob Collins), an Aboriginal man wanted for murder. When Yadaka arrives on Molly’s property, she is wary of his presence but gives him a safe place to stay, learning more about him and herself in the process.

This film is based on Henry Lawson’s 1892 short story about the resilience of the strong-willed mother and Leah Purcell’s staged 2016 play. It’s a narrative that speaks to Australian culture and the Outback in particular, but it’s certainly applicable to so many places in the world where white immigrants have imposed imperialistic views and policies on people who lived there long before they ever thought to arrive. There’s nothing modern about this film, which is firmly set in the past, but the ideals it navigates are absolutely relevant to the white supremacy and victimization of minorities currently happening around the world.

Purcell pulls triple duty as director, writer, and star, imbuing Molly with a stern protective nature, one that makes her well-suited for survival. Collins humanizes Yadaka, making it clear that he is far from the villain he has been made out to be by authorities seeking his head. Reid and De Gouw embody interesting supporting characters whose roles don’t feel all that relevant. This film boasts strong production values that make its setting and story feel real, though it never really manages to come alive. As a metaphor or a morality lesson, this film works well, but as a viewing experience, it’s not nearly as engaging or riveting.

B-

SXSW with Abe: Language Lessons

I’m thrilled to be covering SXSW for the third time. This year, I’m not in Austin, but watching films virtually and reviewing them as soon as I can.

Language Lessons
Directed by Natalie Morales
Narrative Spotlight

You can only learn so much about another person through a camera or computer screen. That’s one of the top criticisms of at-home education that’s been the necessary default during a global pandemic, with those opposed arguing that it can’t possibly replicate the experience of in-person learning and being surrounded by other students. Those who live on different sides of the country or even the world are satiated in part by video calls, but nothing can match the feeling of standing in front of someone and hugging them. There is still great potential in online communication, as marvelously shown in this wonderful two-performer production.

Adam (Mark Duplass) has been given a gift by his husband Will (Desean Terry): one hundred Spanish lessons with Cariño (Natalie Morales). The already mostly fluent Adam, who lives a lavish life of luxury in a giant Oakland home, is supposed to turn on his camera each week for two years to connect with the Costa Rica-based Cariño to improve his mastery of the language. When Adam experiences an unexpected loss, the nature of his conversations with Cariño change, transforming preplanned exercises into an entirely more personal dynamic.

This film is exceptional for a number of reasons. While it was made during a pandemic and for the most part features two actors on separate screens for the entirety of its runtime, it’s not one of the many projects that will clearly trace back to this moment in time. This kind of online extracurricular course does exist in this form, and its format merely serves to link two people in two different places as they come together over a shared interest in language. Most impressively, this film manages to remain completely interesting throughout its hour-and-a-half runtime despite being little more than a dialogue between two people looking at each other through their only sometimes crystal-clear computer screens.

This is the directorial debut for Morales, an actress who has impressed in recurring roles on “Parks and Recreation” and “Dead to Me,” as well as anchoring a decent sitcom, “Abby’s.” Here, she is full of personality and depth opposite a typically invested and dryly charming Duplass, and the two make for a stellar onscreen pair. This relationship feels like one that might truly exist, evolving over time and shifting between humorous anecdotes to serious exploration of boundaries. What may be most charming about it is its use of language, with Adam trying ardently to practice his admittedly grammar-imperfect Spanish in as much of their conversations as possible. This film is funny, engrossing, and heartwarming, an optimistic indication of the power of storytelling without the need for all the usual cinematic bells and whistles.

B+

SXSW with Abe: The Fabulous Filipino Brothers

I’m thrilled to be covering SXSW for the third time. This year, I’m not in Austin, but watching films virtually and reviewing them as soon as I can.

The Fabulous Filipino Brothers
Directed by Dante Basco
Narrative Spotlight

Every family has its idiosyncrasies. Parents influence their children with the cultural, religious, and sociopolitical values they teach and practice, which may be embraced and adopted or rebelled against, depending on how they are imparted and digested. Siblings in the same family don’t always behave the same way as they grow up, and staying close through adulthood can prove just as impactful on how they interact with the world. It can be particularly fun to see how birth order and treatment by other family members shapes each of them, as is very much the case with this upbeat and energizing comedy.

The Basco brothers all live in Pittsburg, California, where their Filipino heritage is a major part of their identities. Each of the four gets a vignette that checks in with where they are in their lives. The oldest brother, Dayo (Derek Basco), offers to pay for part of a family wedding and scrambles to come up with the money, leading him down a regrettable path. Duke (Dante Basco) is away on business and runs into his high school girlfriend, Anna (Solenn Heussaff), which prompts the return of unexpected feelings. Dave (Dionysio Basco), who is far from serious, meets a mystery woman who he finds very attractive. Danny Boy (Darion Basco), destitute after a breakup, reluctantly goes on a date with Teresa (Liza Lapira), who may be just what he needs to return to some semblance of normalcy.

The four segments of this film are connected by the narration of Dores (Arianna Basco), who explains how the family functions and dramatizes each of their backstories. They do feel distinctly different, with Dayo and Dave’s paling both in seriousness and entertainment value to the other two. There’s nothing inherently wrong with them; they just aren’t as memorable or enthralling. That may be because what they experience is, generally speaking, nothing new, whereas both Duke and Danny Boy are challenged to change how they operate, which certainly isn’t easy but proves very watchable.

The inarguably best part of this film is that these characters are played by real-life siblings. Dante serves as director, and there’s a comfort that can’t necessarily be mimicked on screen that comes from their real relation. It doesn’t come across as too casual or forced, and it’s great to see this familial effort prove so tremendously successful. Even if two of its four parts are stronger than the others, the better portions feel longer and more substantial, contributing to a very worthwhile and enjoyable whole full of winning and smile-inducing moments.

B+

SXSW with Abe: Here Before

I’m thrilled to be covering SXSW for the third time. This year, I’m not in Austin, but watching films virtually and reviewing them as soon as I can.

Here Before
Directed by Stacey Gregg
Narrative Feature Competition

A loss is something that people don’t always recover from, and it can stick with them for their entire lives, regardless of how much time has passed. The emotions that stem from an absence may be triggered at unexpected times, and it may seem as if someone has moved on, in whatever way they can, before they return to a state of deep mourning that prohibits them from functioning fully in the world. Being reminded of places or people that relate to a loss can understandably serve to reopen scabbed wounds, a concept bluntly explored in this uneven psychological thriller.

Laura (Andrea Riseborough) lives with her husband Brendan (Jonjo O’Neill) and her teenage son Tadhg (Lewis McAskie). When ten-year-old Megan (Niamh Dornan) moves in next door, Laura takes a liking to her, in no small part because it feels like the relationship she had with the child she lost, her daughter Josie. When Megan’s mother (Eileen O’Higgins) fails to pick her up from school, Laura drives her home and forms more of a connection as she becomes increasingly entranced by how much Megan makes her think of Josie.

It’s not clear what this film exactly wants to be, since there is definitely something disconcerting about Megan’s precociousness and the way that she so quickly warms to her adult neighbor. Laura does notice that Megan seems to function independently and that her mother and stepfather often leave her to her own devices, but she exudes a welcoming nature that makes sense as a reason that children might be drawn to her. Whether there is something supernatural at play with Megan being some kind of reincarnation of Josie is certainly a notion this film posits, and as that becomes its intended direction, this film leans strongly into that possibility as it adopts a feverish, almost nightmarish tone.

Riseborough is an actress with tremendous capability that she has demonstrated in numerous projects, but she has also starred in a few lackluster projects that cast her in uninviting roles anchoring uninspired storylines. Like “Nancy” and “Luxor” in recent years, this film finds a good lead in Riseborough but surrounds her with a lackluster plot that becomes less and less interesting as it goes on. Those hoping for one resolution over another will likely be disappointed with the film’s denouement, which is moderately satisfying but makes so much of what came before seem irrelevant and tedious.

C+

SXSW with Abe: Executive Order and Witch Hunt

I’m thrilled to be covering SXSW for the third time. This year, I’m not in Austin, but watching films virtually and reviewing them as soon as I can.

I'm writing up some of the films I see for The Film Experience. Head over there to read my take on “Executive Order” and “Witch Hunt,” two interesting approaches to dystopian realities that don't feel all that distant.

SXSW with Abe: The Return: Life After ISIS

I’m thrilled to be covering SXSW for the third time. This year, I’m not in Austin, but watching films virtually and reviewing them as soon as I can.

I'm writing up some of the films I see for the brand new site Cinema Daily US. Head over there to read my take on “The Return: Life After ISIS,” a thoroughly intriguing documentary looking at women who voluntarily joined ISIS.

SXSW with Abe: The End of Us

I’m thrilled to be covering SXSW for the third time. This year, I’m not in Austin, but watching films virtually and reviewing them as soon as I can.

The End of Us
Directed by Steven Kanter and Henry Loevner
Narrative Feature Competition

Living through a pandemic hasn’t been easy for anyone. Even the healthiest, wealthiest people with all the space in the world have surely found it difficult. Those without means and with preexisting conditions have endured a harrowing year since lockdowns and quarantines were instituted, and many didn’t survive after contracting coronavirus. As with any situation, there is a more lighthearted, humorous way to look at it, imagining an added layer of complication to make isolation and social distancing feel even more unbearable. This comedy handles it in an invigorating and highly entertaining manner that feels very fresh and fun.

Leah (Ali Vingiano) and Nick (Ben Coleman) live together in Los Angeles, but their relationship isn’t really working. Leah finally has the uncomfortable conversation and tells Nick that they need to break up. Unfortunately, her timing couldn’t be worse, since the next morning is the first day of a new normal. Since his friends and family members are wary of exposure, Nick isn’t able to find anywhere else to stay, forcing him and Leah to become unwilling roommates as they process their changing feelings. Leah’s burgeoning romance with a coworker, Tim (Derrick Joseph DeBlasis), only adds to the awkwardness since her live-in ex-boyfriend has no choice but to witness it happen right in front of his eyes.

There have already been and are sure to be many more cinematic stories about living through this pandemic, and at a certain point, especially while some restrictions are still in place with an end only distantly in sight, it’s not appealing to watch reality reflected back on screen. But this film subverts expectations by giving both its protagonists plenty of personality, augmenting the differences between them in a fantastic way as they grow further apart emotionally but are forced to remain even closer than ever before. Whether their levels of cautionary behavior will be quite as amusing once mask-wearing and being six feet apart are a thing of the past is hard to know, but in this moment, this film feels like the perfect kind of comedy.

Vingiano and Coleman make a great pair, playing fantastically off each other as Leah and Nick become increasingly passive-aggressive. Leah is the straight-laced, serious one while Nick isn’t great at actually achieving anything, but they’re both dynamic, and it’s very welcome when the film allows them brief opportunities to switch roles of responsible and reckless. They’re their own people but also so representative of recognizable components in any relationship or household, and this film makes excellent use of strong characters and superb actors with an equally competent and enjoyable story to surround them.

B+

SXSW Interview: Who We Are: A Chronicle of Racism in America

I’m thrilled to be covering SXSW for the third time. This year, I’m not in Austin, but watching films virtually and reviewing them as soon as I can.

I had the incredible privilege to speak with ACLU Deputy Legal Director Jeffery Robinson and directors Emily and Sarah Kunstler about their powerful new documentary, “Who We Are: A Chronicle of Racism in America.” Watch the talk above!

SXSW with Abe: Hysterical

I’m thrilled to be covering SXSW for the third time. This year, I’m not in Austin, but watching films virtually and reviewing them as soon as I can.

Hysterical
Directed by Andrea Nevins
Documentary Spotlight

The idea that women aren’t funny, or aren’t as funny as men, is simply laughable. But like so much of human history, that hasn’t stopped one gender from assorting superiority over the other, assigning certain diminutive signifiers to women who possess the same traits and characteristics as men but are somehow deemed inferior for them. This enthralling and entertaining documentary shines a spotlight on many women who have successfully forged a career in stand-up comedy despite the many obstacles they continue to face to achieve even some semblance of stability in an often critical industry.

A number of talented female comedians share their stories, chronicling the formative experiences as children and in young adulthood that led them to pursue a passion that finds them standing in front of an audience on a regular basis. In each case, there are countless instances where they were held to different standards and told that two female comics couldn’t be put back-to-back or that they were funny, for a woman. In a few particularly powerful examples, like that of Kelly Bachman, they use the stage to amplify voices that are rarely heard, as she did when she called out an unexpected person in the crowd one night: Harvey Weinstein.

This film isn’t a repository for complaints about sexism and unfair treatment in this particular workplace, but there are surely many who will dismiss it as such. It’s precisely that unreasonable and malignant behavior that makes this film’s existence important, since it shows just how talented these women are, which as it turns out isn’t relevant for those who don’t want to think that a woman can be as funny or stage-ready. Like current conversations around racism, it also highlights the prominence of those who believe they are elevating or doing women a favor by spotlighting them while their accompanying condescending comments do exactly the opposite.

This documentary doesn’t attempt to capture the complete history of female stand-up comedians, but it does do a great job of mixing footage of acts by early influential comics like Moms Mabley and interviews with those still on the circuit who saw their predecessors’ work and were influenced by it in some way. Margaret Cho and Kathy Griffin provide insight into the way that things have changed, and, in many respects, not changed over the past few decades. This film serves as a very worthwhile and unfortunately necessary reminder that there are so many hilarious women out there, and the fact that they’re female is only notable because it speaks to the experiences they’ve had and are likely to incorporate into their bits.

B+

SXSW with Abe: Potato Dreams of America

I’m thrilled to be covering SXSW for the third time. This year, I’m not in Austin, but watching films virtually and reviewing them as soon as I can.

I'm writing up some of the films I see for the brand new site Cinema Daily US. Head over there to read my take on “Potato Dreams of America,” a delightful story about coming to America.