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  • Peace By Chocolate: Review

    Peace By Chocolate: Review

    There’s something to the human spirit which makes it undying, and film has sought to capture this everlasting flame in near every genre. Whether it be in the haunted trenches of war or within the grasp of tumultuous romance, a distinctly human tenacity is always present. True stories are the best at conveying this, and outside of war stories, there are perhaps no purer and more uplifting tales in this vein than those of refugees fleeing home and making a life on a foreign shore. Jonathan Keijser’s “Peace by Chocolate” is one such film, and while there are more than a few bumps, the refugee success story at its core is an uplifting one. 

    This remarkable true story follows the Hadhad family, particularly father and son Issam (Hatem Ali) and Tareq (Ayham Abou Ammar). Who, along with the family matriarch, flee war-torn Syria to make their way to a small town called Antigonish in Canada. Issam was a successful chocolatier back home, so successful in fact that he owned a factory for mass production of his treats. That was until the bombs dropped and forced them from their home. In Canada, despite their newfound safety, they now face the pressures of adapting in the face of unwavering culture shock, heightened because Tareq is the only one who understands English. 

    There are a lot of little offshoots from here, which is the first hiccup the film faces. The main plot revolves around Issam using his talents to make a chocolate business once again, and this is by far the best plotline. However, to the side of that lie Tareq attempting to get into medical school, a rival chocolatier being run out of business, and the overhanging predicament that sees Issam’s daughter stuck in Syria. It’s a lot thrown into a story already stretched to feature-length to begin with, and while I’m sure there are elements of truth to all of it, together each section rarely mixes to form a coherent film. 

    There is one key reason for this, and it is the project’s greatest weakness. It’s the actors, who all put in clear efforts, only to lose their way in the same way the script does. However, there is one casting masterstroke in the case of Hatem Ali. He is at once a haunted figure desperately trying to reign his son in and constantly suffering from his inability to speak English, before revealing himself to be a loving man proud to live a life of making people happy. And Ali reflects this with a poignancy that I found particularly remarkable upon realising he was a director his whole career.

    Ammar’s is much more difficult to discuss. His work here is his acting debut, and by no means is his performance a bad one. It’s just that there are certain moments where he doesn’t appear to be feeling the weight of the narrative. Towards the end of the film, Tareq’s world falls apart as he tries to cross into the USA, but in the wake of this, he only seems mildly more frustrated than he does throughout the rest of the film. It doesn’t add up. 

    The conclusion from this is that I think this genuinely astounding story would make a better book than it does a film. There’s too much to it, too many intricacies that the film doesn’t quite manage to grasp. My biggest issue is how it highlights the arc of Tareq. Throughout, all he wants is to leave the family business and become a doctor. His reasons for doing this draw from his experiences facing war, and it’s an evident passion that he would do anything to achieve. In fact, getting this particular point across is when Peace by Chocolate is at its best. And yet, despite getting into medical school, his family continue to trap him, and for some reason, we are supposed to feel happy for him. Again, I understand this is simply the truth of what happened, but that doesn’t mean it’s a good thing, and it is most certainly presented as one.

    Peace By Chocolate has all the right ingredients, but unfortunately, it isn’t tempered quite enough to make a successful motion picture out of the powerful true story.

  • Pig: The BRWC Review

    Pig: The BRWC Review

    Pig Synopsis: Rob (Nicolas Cage), a truffle hunter who lives alone in the Oregonian wilderness, must return to his past life in Portland in search of his beloved foraging pig after she is kidnapped. Alongside Amir (Alex Wolff), his vapid young truffle buyer, the two discover deeper purpose from their straightforward mission.

    Most recognize him for his manic energy, but don’t be fooled by Nicolas Cage’s wildcard facade. While his dynamic performances grab the audience’s interest (who doesn’t replay clips from Wicker Man or Bad Lieutenant: Port of Call New Orleans?), Cage can often exhibit subdued nuances from even the most underwritten characters. Some directors have masterfully utilized the actor’s more delicate persona, with recent indie breakouts Joe and Mandy illustrating the immense talent lying under Cage’s eccentric surface.

    Writer/director Michael Sarnoski’s meditative debut Pig finds itself embracing a similarly solemn aesthetic. Clashing the intimate wonders of our natural world with the self-absorbed glitz of modern society, Sarnoski draws a compelling, albeit inconsistent, change up from typical genre formula.

    Sarnoski and co-writer Vanessa Block certainly aren’t afraid to delineate from audience’s hard-wired expectations. Where most would repurpose the film’s revenge plot thread into a mindless actioner, the duo wisely opts towards soulful poeticism. Pig‘s meandering pace and gentle character beats effectively dig at the heart of Rob and Amir’s life-altering quest.

    Both may exist on opposite ends of social standards, but the premise intelligently analyzes their shared emptiness. The character’s stark environmental juxtaposition serves as a powerful motif for humanity’s longing for meaningful connection, with both characters’ dissident realities compensating for their broken histories. For a tight 91-minute narrative, Sarnoski and Block exhibit impressive poise while skillfully balancing their challenging thematic high-wire act (the central message is dour, but it’s always balanced with a semblance of hopeful progression).

    Pig excels as an intricate performance piece. Without much in terms of dialogue or dramatic emotional swings, Nicolas Cage unearths potent textures from even the slightest of frames. The actor consistently imbues commanding gravitas into Rob’s solemnly worn face, elevating the character’s arduous state into something deeply profound. Cage’s firm presence dominates the film, yet Alex Wolff’s assured supporting work stands just as tall. As Amir, Wolff represents the film’s largest evolution as a socialite growing past his oppressively superficial tendencies. The actor’s sincere chemistry as unlikely kindred spirits helps the script’s simmering emotions reach a full boil.

    Still, Sarnoski’s first offering suffers from a few familiar debut falterings. The script rests its laurels on thematic idealism, a decision that can occasionally leave the characters with sparse dimensionality. It leaves a lot of heavy lifting to the talented leads, and while they are well-suited for the task, the well-orchestrated character beats could have landed an even higher impact with more specificity.

    Pig is delicate and deeply empathetic at its best. Sarnoski, Block, Wolff, and Cage work to explore personal sentiments in a moving portrait of human fragility.

    NEON releases Pig in theaters nationwide on July 16.

  • Deerskin: The BRWC Review

    Deerskin: The BRWC Review

    The less you know about Deerskin going in, the better.  You try to find your bearings by attempting to categorize it—looks a little like a Yorgos Lanthimos film, alludes to Hitchcock’s Psycho and Mary Harron’s American Psycho, and has dark/absurd humor à la Lynch.  In truth, director Quentin Dupieux has birthed a very idiosyncratic beast with Deerskin.  The beast in question here is a fringed deerskin jacket that most no one would be caught dead in but becomes the obsession of its wearer, Georges (Jean Dujardin). 

    Georges’s backstory is murky.  He appears to have had some trouble in his marriage that has irretrievably broken it.  He sets off for the French backwaters, blows all his money on his talisman—the deerskin jacket—which he buys from a quirky older man, and barters his wedding ring for a night’s stay at a lodge that has seen better days.  Dujardin’s performance is magnificent in its range.  He plays Georges as deranged individual—he converses with and takes orders from the deerskin jacket—as existential drifter, conman, and even plays him as a hopeless dreamer trying to recreate his life in a small town.  Along the way, Georges falls into a lie that he is a film director, convinces the lodge’s bartender, Denise (Adèle Haenel), to edit his footage, pays townsfolk to act in his jacket-themed film, and gains even more deerskin apparel along the way—hat, pants, and gloves. 

    A story about a deranged individual taking orders from a jacket may sound unwatchable.  I certainly had my doubts after having very cursory knowledge of the plot.  But rest assured.  Dupieux commits to the script and makes it work.  The film’s pacing is tight; and, clocking in at less than 90 minutes, Deerskin does not prolong its stay.  A longer film would have ruined such an absurd premise.  Dupieux’s script is also good at showing us how Georges changes.  We often assume that change is an internal affair, a mental paradigm shift, a spiritual conversion.  Dupieux taps into what every make-up artist, fashion designer, or aesthetician knows—external appearance can change the internal.  In Georges’s case, the jacket transforms his psyche.  

    For a film to work, especially one like this, every part must function on its own and cohere with every other part.  Deerskin has all those components–great performances, a solid script, efficient pacing, and narrative themes that keep the viewer interested.  Though there are deeper themes running through Deerskin than merely a man obsessed with a jacket, viewers would be well advised not to seek an ultimate interpretation.  Seeking an ultimate interpretation with a film like Deerskin is like demobilizing a specimen and putting it on pins.  Perhaps the best approach with Deerskin, the only sensible thing to do, is to do like George—put on the jacket and let it direct you.

    https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vVT4jlEJYQA  

  • Bad Hair: Review

    Bad Hair: Review

    Screened for the first time in January 2020 at the Sundance film festival, “Bad Hair” is a film written and directed by Justin Simien. Justin Simien is mostly known as the director of the Netflix series “Dear White People” (2017-2021). As a huge fan of horror films of all kinds and various quality, I was bound to be excited after reading the synopsis. 

    “In 1989, Anna (played by Elle Lorraine), an ambitious young woman gets a weave in order to succeed in the image-obsessed world of music television. However, her flourishing career may come at a great cost when she realizes that her new hair may have a mind of its own.”  From the first minutes of the film we understand that, in addition to being a horror film, “Bad Hair” will try to denounce the oppression suffered by black women in the 90s, which is a very interesting idea. 

    Indeed, the mix of horror and social drama is a combo which works very well in recent years and gives a certain depth to the film.  For example, there is the excellent “Get Out” (2017) by Jordan Peele or “His House” (2020) by Remi Weekes. 

    Both of these films rightly use societal elements integrated directly into the film’s narrative to generate horror while intelligently denouncing racism and oppression.  Despite these various elements that only bode well, the film quickly fails in the horror aspect and the characters are mostly very unconvincing.

    “Bad Hair” leans too much into comedy to be able to create real horrific stakes. In addition, the very weird special effects, do not help to create true horror and fear. However, the film succeeds in showing in a very original way how black culture was and is used and instrumentalized by white people for profit. It also shows the pressures that black women face in relation to beauty standards through the character of Anna, who will have to change who she really is to have a better chance of success.

    The first part of the film works pretty well. The film introduces the character of Anna, her past, her present and the environment in which she evolves.  But as soon as the presence of the cursed hair becomes more frequent and more aggressive, the film progressively loses its scenaristic quality and its interest. The scenario gets very weird, and unfortunately doesn’t seem to be really under control anymore, the various events follow one another in a very curious way. Also, the dubious special effects also reduces the overall quality of the film.   

    “Bad Hair” is therefore interesting because of its subject matter and its denunciations, but will probably not satisfy the majority of horror fans. 

  • Scales: Review

    Scales: Review

    “Scales” is a Saudi film written and directed by Shahad Ameen. After her short film “Eye & Mermaid” (2013), the director reuses the myth of the mermaid and deepens some of the ideas present in her short film. 

    “Scales” was the official submission of Saudi Arabia for the “Best International Feature Film” category of the 93rd Academy Awards in 2021. In 2019 the film won the “Verona Film Club Award” of the prestigious Venice Film Festival.

    Hayat (played by Basima Hajjar) is a young girl born in a village with strange traditions. Each family must sacrifice one of its daughters to the creatures of the sea. In return, the sea creatures are hunted by men.

    To honor this sacrifice, some throw away their baby daughters, others wait until they are older. Hayat’s father, Muthana (played by Yagoub Alfarhan), has refused this sacrifice and is rejected by the village since this decision. Through this refusal, he is perceived as a weak man who goes against the interests of the village. 

    This idea of a sacrifice, in order to have a good hunt or good resources to provide for the needs of a village inevitably brings to mind Robin Hardy’s “The Wicker Man” (1973). 

    This notion of sacrifice also refers us to a more social aspect. Linked to the condition of women in Saudi Arabia, where the domination of men largely oppresses women. 

    The progressive transformation of Hayat is also one of the main subjects of the film. Like her father, she has also been seen as an outcast since childhood. 

    When her feet touch the water, scales gradually form, but she refuse this change and would rather hunt with men. She will go as far as to confront directly the marine creatures to be finally accepted by the men. Basime Hajjar, despite his young age, delivers a performance close to perfection, she fits perfectly into this universe as strange as distressing.  

    The photography of João Ribeiro is sublime, he uses to perfection Oman and its various seascapes. 

    The use of black and white allows to make this small coastal village unreal, it give us the impression to attend a count taking place in a dystopian universe. 

    The presence of mermaids and the very slow rhythm of the film also reinforce this idea. It’s difficult to localize the village and its inhabitants but also to define the time in which the story takes place. 

    The use of black and white harmonizes perfectly with the differents marine visuals and its reflections and allows to João Ribeiro to deliver a sumptuous photography.

    This film, like Robert Eggers’ excellent “The Lighthouse” (2019), shows us that black and white can be an interesting and relevant artistic choice, even in 2021. 

    “Scales”, through its photography, its subtext and the performance of its actors is a successful and very interesting film.