Review: Military Wives

by Chris Feil

Much of the newest film from The Full Monty director Peter Cattaneo, Military Wives, follows the mold of that effort that made him an Oscar nominee. It’s an emotionally effective ensemble portrait of blue collar Britain, with unseasoned performers finding a renewed sense of community through performance. Good times, neatly plotted setbacks, and reconciliation within family units are had by all. It even ends on an iconic disco track, but this time with even more charmingly awkward dancing.

However, Military Wives is more defined by its modesty than its showmanship, lovely and satisfying but without much in the way of complication or embellishment. Even as it follows the formula, it downplays much of its musicality and emotional grace notes when you expect it to soar. Comfort classic status is sadly averted due to its lower register, and yet it still fulfills most of what you crave in a film such as this.

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Ryan Murphy's "Hollywood" Finale

by Cláudio Alves

Sometimes artists dig their own graves by badly promoting or describing their works. Ryan Murphy's Hollywood is, to me, a good example of that. First off, the title is too vague, promising a portrait of Hollywood history instead of the fantasy the series presents. "Dreamland" would be an infinitely better name, both as a descriptor of the content and a tie-in to the narrative's details.

Titles aside, another big problem surrounding Hollywood is how many have been calling it revisionist history. It's no such thing…

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Review: Dead to Me (Season 2)

By Spencer Coile 

We’re living in a strange time right now. Yet if these past few weeks have taught us anything, it’s that it’s a good time to acknowledge feelings - anxiety, anger, disillusionment - and find ways to channel them into healthier outlets. Personally, I’ve been using this time to catch up on TV I’ve been missing out on. And what I’ve found is that, in their own strange way, these shows have helped me tap into my own complicated emotions - something that may not have happened without the circumstances surrounding it. 

Dead to Me, returning for its second season on Netflix, is exactly the type of show I needed during this time...

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Review: How to Build a Girl

by Chris Feil

Beanie Feldstein has spent her time in coming-of-age comedies sharing the screen, whether in a tandem spotlight in Booksmart or stealing scenes in smaller doses in Lady Bird. With Coky Giedroyc’s early-90s-rock infused How to Build a Girl, she gets her own showcase this time. While the actress makes good on her potential to carry her own vehicle, the film itself offers more modest results.

From Caitlin Moran’s popular and semi-autobiographical novel, Feldstein stars as Johanna Morrigan, a teenage music obsessive and writer with dreams outsized to her family’s low income. After an embarrassing public attempt at sharing her writing, she adopts a brash exterior as Dolly Wilde to pursue a journalism career and sexual liberation. As she is confronted by the ingrained sexism of a male dominated industry, Johanna develops Dolly’s voice into caustic extreme to establish herself, reaping success through persona. But the self-reinvention that was once an escape from her perceived weaknesses quickly becomes a wedge between her passion and her true self.

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Review: Liberté

by Chris Feil

Cineastes missing human touch might find an antidote in Albert Serra’s Liberté, another gallery-ready period piece from the Catalan filmmaker. The film is a barrage of increasingly queasy, bewigged kinky fumblings in the woods with the director audaciously exploring the repetitive nature of lust.

Set just prior to the French Revolution, Liberté opaquely follows a set of libertines who have been banished from the king’s court. Opening on the fringes of a forrest at dusk, the voice of one of them describes the public torture and dismemberment of a prisoner in brutal detail. The story goes beyond the biologically possible, the telling centering as much on the violence as the response from those who witness it. “The crowd enjoyed the show,” he muses, “and you know, I have a taste for these things.” As this grotesque story preambles for the audience, the film's extremity is as much about voyeurism to the act as the act itself.

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