Carey Mulligan Shines in 'Wildlife'

by Murtada Elfadl

Carey Mulligan always impresses. She gave the best performance I’ve seen on stage in Skylight in 2015. Earlier this year I was again astounded by her stage presence in the one woman show, Girls and Boys. It was an emotionally devastating theater experience, thanks to her command of the stage and of the language inflections. But despite being biased for her, I wasn’t ready for how blazing she comes out in Paul Dano’s Wildlife.

This is her shining moment. It’s her Blanche Dubois moment.

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Is that you Carey Mulligan?

Tfw u #CareyMulligan !!!!!!!! RT if u very smart like her 💖 pic.twitter.com/PAVhlEIYnO

— Desi Domo (@DesiDomo) October 4, 2018

Witness one of the best comic impressions out there! Utter genius, really. If Carey Mulligan were more famous this woulda gone viral!

TIFF Review: "Wildlife"

by Chris Feil

Paul Dano’s directorial debut Wildlife is a period domestic drama with a fire in its gut. It’s the kind of piercing portrait of a family that makes you want to marinate in all of its surprising details just as you desperately want to escape its breathlessly realized pain.

Picturing an emotionally desolate suburban America of shitty lawns and ranch style homes, Dano strikes a balance between toughness and compassion, cruelty and honesty. It's as if its family was built on the fault line of two massive tectonic plates and no matter how violent the inevitable eruption that is to come, it might be sadly better that they be ripped apart. For everyone.

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Beauty Break: Toronto Red Carpet

by Murtada Elfadl

The reviews and tweets are coming in fast and furious from Toronto. Let's take a break from all that and look at the many premieres from the weekend and the many beautiful people who walked the carpet.

If Beale Street Could Talk brought together (L-R) Brian Tyree Henry, Regina King, Colman Domingo, Kiki Layne, Stephan James, Barry Jenkins and Teyonah Parris.

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Soundtracking: "Shame"

by Chris Feil

There is reinvention of a golden standard and then there is what Shame does with “New York, New York”. Carey Mulligan’s Sissy interrupts the life her sex addict brother Brandon, played by Michael Fassbender, initiating his decent into rock bottom. But when he goes to see her perform in some anonymously upscale bar, her rendition of Frank Sinatra’s musical calling card similarly halts the film’s syncopated rhythms. Sparsely orchestrated, Sissy goes off-melody and off-tradition, singing an unexpectedly fragile version that McQueen uses to link the emotional brokenness between siblings. Decidedly not the triumph we are used to hearing in a Sinatra horn section...

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