William Edgar (Jimmy Levar) is having trouble sleeping because every time he closes his eyes, he has a vision of a beautiful woman named Ophelia (Christina Chu-Ryan) that he cannot get out of his head. He’s been to a psychiatrist that tries to help him but it doesn’t help and he realises that there’s nothing else for it – he has to find Ophelia. Although only having a picture to go on, his search for the woman in his dreams may be harder to find than he thought.
Finding Ophelia is the feature directorial debut of Stephen Rutterford, who not only wrote and directed, but served as cinematographer and editor as well. However, it seems that cinematography is where Rutterford’s talents lie because although Finding Ophelia is visually stunning, it falls down on the simplistic writing of characters and plot.
There are many reasons to enjoy Finding Ophelia if you like uniquely visual directors like Zack Snyder and David Lynch, but those who are looking for more of a story with interesting characters then they may want to look elsewhere.
Also, there are times where the film goes out into broad daylight and unfortunately this takes away from the artistic flair of the film. Whereas Rutterford’s vision may have been one to keep his audience in a certain mood and tell a story, there can be little cracks which may be due to budget.
Finding Ophelia’s leading actors are also as visually stunning as Rutterford’s cinematography, but overall, there really isn’t much there in character and so Levar is left constantly running around, making the audience where he’s going.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MwQ_Bd2l7aY
The audience may also never know whether William’s journey is real or not adding to the dreamlike state and so there doesn’t really feel like there are any stakes or that what William finds will be really worth it.
There are some interesting aspects of horror along the way, but Finding Ophelia never really holds onto it for too long, making it feel at odds when the twist in the story is finally revealed. Finding Ophelia may look pretty, but its running time feels too long for the story it wants to tell which may leave audiences unsatisfied.
A hit at festivals the world over, Beyond The Infinite Two Minutes is a highly entertaining, brilliantly made and thoughtful sci-fi comedy whose seventy-minute run time is made up of one extraordinary continuous shot.
There have been other films made likewise, the entire narrative taking place in a single take: Russian Ark is possibly the best-known while others like Hitchcock’s Rope and Inarritu’s Birdman tried to re-create the effect by disguising cuts. This film is not an exercise in clout however, plotted and executed so intricately, Junta Yamaguchi’s film uses the format of one unbroken shot to its full potential.
The film begins by following sulky cafe owner and struggling musician Kato (Kazunari Tosa) to his second-floor apartment, where he finds someone video calling him from the computer in the cafe below. Somehow it is him two minutes in the future, instructing his present self to head downstairs, where he has the exact same conversation only this time with his past self.
What follows is a constant stream of two minute trips between the computer in Kato’s apartment and the one downstairs, conversing with the past and the future. At first he, waitress Aya (Riko Fujitani), promoter Komiya (Gota Ishida) and two cafe patrons (Yoshifumi Sakai and Masashi Suwa) try to work out why this is happening, before their thoughts turn to how they can use it for their own gain.
Being able to see what can happen two minutes in the future isn’t a very useful, but by facing the two screens against each another, they create a Droste effect of seemingly endless looping images bridged by two-minute intervals. (The Droste Effect is the sensation of a picture being included within itself, creating a seemingly infinite loop of images. It gets its name from the brand of Dutch cocoa powder, whose original packaging incorporated in a smaller version of the image itself. It’s worth being reminded of this going into the film, as it plays a central part to the plot.)
Now able to communicate with themselves seemingly far into the future, they have scope to use this glimpse into the future to their advantage. Of course thoughts first turn to financial gain, but of the group Kato is hesitant to play along. While the others gain greater assurance and confidence knowing what is to come for them, the owner, having seen many disappointments in his time, does not want to know how future events will unfold. At least that leaves open the possibility for hope.
The rest can only see good things come of this happenstance, but start to realise they are being lied to by their future selves and end up lying to their past selves only so as to not create a time paradox. Eventually things start to take a more dangerous turn, which is when the ability to see into the future ends up coming in very handy.
It sounds confusing but in practice it is really easy to follow. Credit is definitely owed to screenwriter Makoto Ueda, whose script is so intricately plotted and is able to take complicated subject matter and makes it clear and easy to understand. His subject matter is effortlessly clever and characterisation and dialogue are both consistently funny.
On a technical level, BTITM is impeccable. The single tracking shot which constantly follows the characters conversing with past and future selves with no lag shows minutely designated timing and planning to create the illusion perfectly. The behind-the-scenes clips that play during the end credits, while not giving too much away, show the depth of planning that went into the film as well as revealing astonishing details, such as the whole film being shot on a smartphone and without green screens. Seeing these moments made me want to see a making-of version where we see the film being made in real time.
As well as being technologically marvellous, BTITM feels like a very good Twilight Zone episode: high-concept but presents its complex subject matter succinctly and making the most of its conceit for the right amount of time. An hour and ten minutes may seem short but it doesn’t stretch itself beyond beyond telling the full and complete story. BTITM has all the makings of a cult classic, but its ambition and execution is deserving of as big an audience as it can get. It is worth seeking out and, appropriately, watching again and again.
Naked Singularity Synopsis: Casi (John Boyega) is a promising young New York City public defender whose idealism is beginning to crack under the daily injustices of the very justice system he’s trying to make right. Doubting all he has worked for and seeing signs of the universe collapsing all around him, he is pulled into a dangerous, high-stakes drug heist by an unpredictable former client (Olivia Cooke) to beat the broken system at its own game.
Based on lawyer-turned author Sergio De La Pava’s singular cult novel, Naked Singularity aims for high marks from an ambition standpoint. The long-awaited adaptation mixes critical insights on the corrupt justice system with a surrealist, crime-thriller edge. In the case of Chase Palmer’s directorial debut, Naked Singularity’s intriguing genre fusion turns into a bloated mess of genre confusion.
I haven’t read De La Pava’s beloved text, but this adaption occasionally highlights the meaningful undertones that made his work beloved. Amidst all the chaotic turns, Naked Singularity aims its sights on the corporatized justice department. The cynical system callously funnels people in and out of prison sentences without much consideration, leaving both prisoners and ex-convicts stuck in a hopeless cycle of frustration. The film certainly lays the conceit on thick with boisterous stylistic cues and overwritten speeches. However, the energetic delivery does bring some much-needed vitriol to the age-old conversation.
A game cast also elevates the proceedings. John Boyega imbues conviction and dynamism into our down-on-his-luck protagonist Casi. Even as the narrative drives off the rails, Boyega provides a sturdy and deeply affable presence for audiences to follow behind. Olivia Cooke is served the most thankless role of the bunch as Lena – an ex-convict stuck acting as the film’s damsel in distress. Through the painful cliches and over-the-top accent, Cooke’s endless talent still finds a bright, humanistic angle to convey Lena’s toiling pains. Side players Bill Skarsgård, Ed Skrein, and a drugged-out Tim Blake Nelson also make for welcomed additions. The trio has a blast infusing over-the-top camp into their thinly-conceived roles.
While too chaotic and shaggy to hate, Naked Singularity doesn’t do justice by its source material’s cerebral undertones. Palmer directs without a clear roadmap, incorporating a myriad of genre influences that never quite connect. The crime thriller portions offer edgy posturing without providing a driving hook, while any attempt at sincere drama stumble closer to TV-level melodrama. I give Palmer credit for attempting an unhinged visual style to match the character’s manic journey. It’s just doesn’t translate into a dynamic onscreen presence.
Naked Singularity’s stumbles are similar to most failed adaptations. Palmer and co-writer Dave Matthews strip the material of any real bite, misguidedly streamlining a sprawling 700-word novel into a breathless 93-minute experience. It ends up not having much to say despite possessing a genuinely meaningful core. Instead of building a meaningful thesis, the film seemingly forgets its deeper purpose until it’s too little too late.
An assured adaptation of Naked Singularity could provide a timely descent into America’s unfair playing field. Regrettably, Chase’s well-meaning effort never reaches the material’s apex.
Naked Singularity opens in select theaters on August 6th before premiering on VOD on August 13th.
Scott Brignac’s Playing God is an ambitious drama challenging the viewer to question their own morality. The film follows abandoned sibling Con-artists Micah(Luke Benward) and Rachel (Hannah Kasulka) on their attempt to convince grieving millionaire Ben (Alan Tudyk) of their ability to get him into contact with the God he so desperately attempts to seek. The ruse is a sneaky way to repay their debt to american gangster Vaughn (Marc Menchaca).
The film is constantly changing it’s tone reflected through the sudden switches of soundtrack, colour palette and dialogue tone. At times it feels like an Ocean’s-esque film with a similar style of comedy and costume design just to be overturned by an overtly serious scene before abruptly returning to light hearted exchanges. I was occasionally disappointed by the out of place cinematography. Instead of creating emotionally impactful scenes, the close up shots were often misused in a way that weakened my empathy towards the characters. Equally there are a few out of place scenes with little to no content that highlight a lack of creative vision.
Alan Tudyk’s acting is truly on par in this film and Playing God is certainly a project where his acting scenes truly shine compared to the voice acting roles he’s had inMoana and Rogue One: A Star Wars Story. He managed to portray a truly convincing act as an alcoholic man grieving the loss of his daughter. Equally Michael McKean is perfectly cast as comedic relief and his chemistry with the other actors stand out in this role. The same unfortunately can not be said about the two lead actors Hannah Kasulka and Luke Benward who struggled to convince me in their one on one scenes. The two lead’s lack of chemistry is reflected in the occasional rigid and uninspiring scenes. Despite this disappointment, they would partially redeem themselves when another cast member was present for them to bounce off of and that is when their talent was outspoken.
Despite a truly compelling performance by Alan Tudyk, Playing God is at times overshadowed by its lack of direction. The film does contain ideologically sensitive themes, and manages to create an enjoyable viewing experience for a more mature audience, however that doesn’t mean it’s perfect in every aspect. Ultimately the talented cast manages to distract from the film’s inconsistencies.
Marriages are secret gardens, jungles, and sometimes prisons full of disdain and despair. Or occasionally a mixture of it all. Director Charlotte Blom has managed to capture this by depicting two families, neighbours with differing socio-economic backgrounds and societal conformity. The story follows their lives over a period of forty years, running in a chronological parallel to Princess Diana’s life, from her wedding to her death.
The main protagonists are Terje (Pal Sverre Hagen), Liv (Marie Blokhus) and their daughter Diana, who later asks, “Why would I want to get married when I look at your rubbish relationship?”. Viewed through Diana’s eyes, parents present a confusing mix of ambiguity, hypocrisy and incomprehension, while her grandmother and great aunt, as they scoff their green liquor, say it like it is: “Your parents are nitwits”.
Is it better to have parents who disagree passionately and insult each other constantly, or are callously indifferent? Possibly neither. They could all do better if they could be bothered. Mette Bølstad and Blom’s script depicts relationship microcosms in a sometimes amusing, mostly painful web of incomprehension, while providing good reason to destroy the classic nuclear family.
It’s July 29, 1981. In the majestic St Paul’s Cathedral in London, Lady Diana Spencer marries Prince Charles. The same day, another celebration takes place in the canteen of a Norwegian small-town factory. It’s the newly-weds LIV and TERJE’S wedding party. In the pram lies their new-born daughter, DIANA, who, like her famous namesake, will be facing a lot of chaos in the years to come thanks to her parents. The wedding, and following years, are less glamorous than the royal counterpart, but indisputably much more fun. Through the eyes of Diana, we witness the rollercoaster of her parent’s marriage. To her, they are the worst parents in the world. Miles away from doing a decent job, constantly fighting yet still in love by the time Diana is preparing for her own marriage 30 years later.
