Synopsis: Zu is newly sober when she receives news that she is to become the sole guardian of her half-sister named Music, a young girl on the autism spectrum. Zu begins her process of recovery as she bonds with Music’s vibrant personality.
Some movies can never escape the notorious narratives surrounding their release. While some may push for critics to view a film outside those connotations, I can not ignore the blatant ignorance behind Sia’s writing and directorial debut Music. The talented musician makes numerous poor decisions in her distasteful representations of the Autism community.
Whiplashing audiences to the days of inauthentic awards-bait efforts like I Am Sam (a period that was hilariously mocked in Tropic Thunder), Sia’s melodramatic misfire lacks any understanding of its subject matter. Her writing collaboration with Dallas Clayton rests solely on mawkishly weepy contrivances to sell its inclusive messages. Any semblance of reality the two try to establish is lost amidst a wave of overworked quirks and bombastic diatribes. With every dramatic element dialed up to obvious degrees (the “character likes music so name her Music” type logic), there’s nothing really for audiences to attach to.
Then there’s Sia’s inclusion of vivid music numbers to relay Music’s deeply-felt emotions. These colorful frames have some alluring pop to them, but they rarely serve their intended purpose for the story. The formulaic lyrics and sunny visuals don’t exhibit much thought outside of adding a noisy stylistic inclusion to the table. Sia’s over-exposed lighting and busy edits vie for an upbeat tempo that lands closer to saccharine overkill. It’s frustrating to watch a film desperate to elicit emotions yet completely disconnected from its desired reactions.
Between the snubbing of Autistic actors and Sia’s social media tirade against her numerous detectors, it’s clear Sia did not possess the proper understanding to tell her well-meanging story. I don’t want to speak with superiority or act like the singer approached her material with malicious intent. However, the lack of authetnicity is appraent at every turn. Maddie Ziegler’s overacted performance feels completely disconnected from reality, while Kate Hudson and Leslie Odom Jr. are stuck in thanklessly steryotypical roles.
I feel like we’ve grown past these types of vapid white-knighting efforts, but Music sadly transports us back to that dated era with troubling results. The Autism community deserves much better representation than this, and I hope future filmmakers learn from Sia’s mistakes.
So, after Episode 5 of ‘Wandavision’ ended with a major twist, I was left wondering whether that particular character’s introduction was just a one-off tactic for the episode, or whether he would stay for the remainder of the series. However, I am pleased to see that Quiksilver is featured in this episode too.
Going into the 1990’s, Episode 6, titled ‘All-New Halloween Spooktacular’ sees the Maximoff family getting ready to go trick or treating round the neighbourhood, while Vision wanders to the edge of the Hex and attempts to escape the world that he’s incarcerated in.
Now that the last couple of episodes answered some of viewers’ main questions, this episode decides to raise more questions. I love that Vision is the one that is trying to find out more about the town from the inside, and this is an aspect of the show that I’ve really enjoyed from the start. I also enjoyed the interactions that Quiksilver had with Wanda and her children. He plays the cheeky man-child uncle that Tommy and Billy adore, but even the kids are growing suspicious of their surroundings.
Once again, that’s all I can say in terms of this episode’s non-spoiler aspects.
So, the rest of this article will contain spoilers!
So, like previously mentioned, the show has now moved onto the 90’s/early 2000’s. This was the era that I was looking forward to the most, having been born in the early 90’s myself. So, it was delightful to see that this episode’s intro and layout was similar to ‘Malcolm in the Middle’. For those unaware, ‘Malcolm in the Middle’ was a sitcom revolving around a working-class family starring Frankie Muniz in the lead role. He also acted as the narrator for each episode, and this episode follows the same layout, with Tommy and Billy acting as the narrators. Like the previous episodes, the attention to detail when following the specific shows’ formats have been fantastic. This one was especially delightful because the source material was something that my family and I would watch together.
This episode is also full of references: Scarlett Witch, Vision and Quiksilver’s comic book costumes are all featured here, acting as that particular character’s Halloween costumes. There’s also a reference to the 2011 film ‘Kick Ass’. This is used in a throw-away line at the beginning of the episode, but is a nice nod, and obscure reference, to Aaron Taylor-Johnson, who played Quiksilver in ‘Age of Ultron’. In a later scene, the group are walking by a cinema, which is displaying ‘The Parent Trap’ (about twins who get separated) and ‘The Incredibles’. The latter film is either a reference to the Maximoff family or another reference to the upcoming ‘Fantastic Four’ film.
An interesting aspect to note is during this particular scene, Billy suddenly gains Quiksilver’s lightspeed power, while Tommy suddenly gets Wanda’s powers. This suddenly occurs and is just accepted by Wanda and Quiksilver without any explanation. My theory is that the children picked up these powers via genetics, in the same way that one child may get ginger hair from their distant relative, despite their parents having brunette hair, whilst the other gets the brunette hair from their parents.
Meanwhile, Vision ventures to the edge of town and near the Hex. And this is where the episode’s creepiness factor comes into play. Because this side of town is so far away, Wanda can’t quite reach these townsfolk, like an old video game that hasn’t had time to render its surroundings yet as the player is moving towards it. Therefore, these townsfolk are alive but are standing still, completely stuck in one place. This aspect reminded me of the horror film ‘House of Wax’, where the victims are covered in wax so they’re unable to move, but they’re aware of their surroundings.
This, overall, makes for a horrifying scenario, especially when the camera focuses on one woman who’s sobbing whilst stuck in a slow loop. It’s a scary thought, but also highlights something that the show is fantastic at doing: it’s great at showing just how threatening and unstoppable Wanda can be if she really sets her mind to it. And, when Vision does go through the Hex, after learning from Agnes that he’s actually dead, the barrier starts to tear him apart, not only showing just how strong the barrier is but also telling us that, if Vision were to venture out of this world, he would be dead because Wanda’s spell over him would be broken. This could also be what the ‘Yo-Magic’ advert was trying to say. In the advert, a person is on an island stranded, and a cartoon shark gives him a yogurt to eat. However, the person struggles to open the lid to the pot, ultimately decaying and dying. It was saying that, if Vision breaks through the seal, or the Hex, then it’ll kill him as he struggles to break through.
However, Vision dying leads to the next major event that occurs in the show. After learning from Tommy that Vision is dying, Wanda expands the size of The Hex, swallowing every member of S.W.O.R.D and leaving Monica Rambeau and Detective Woo on the outside of Westview. Like the previous episode, this was another major scene and one that leads to a question: how is ‘Wandavision’ going to end?!
Tribes could almost be seen as a variation on the classic: ‘An Englishman, an Irishman and a Scotsman’ joke, substituting the nationalities to African American, Arab-American and white. The premise is simple and comfortably formulaic. A racially diverse trio attempts to carry out a robbery on a train. All is not as it seems, however, as neither of them are prepared to rob members of their own race.
Based upon the gang’s physical appearances and criminal intent, we are presented with what looks like a straightforward case of wrongful misconduct. But as the plot unravels our initial judgement is soon reflected back onto ourselves, exposing any preconceptions or fixed bias. It catches the audience out and one has to admire the disorientating effect this has.
Director Nino Aldi cleverly subverts cultural and social stereotypes. He manipulates the audience, playfully challenging assumptions of race, class, identification, sexual orientation and the broader issue of discrimination, which is prevalent on all sides. The comedy remains light and deadpan, never mocking, and is treated with sensitivity.
The film’s turning point comes during a sudden outburst of intellectual discourse, an articulate diatribe expostulating social mores and prejudice. This self aware and genre breaking scene is all the more shocking for the fact that it is delivered by the perpetrators themselves, not the victims. It jolts us out of our comfort zone, derailing the narrative in a gratifyingly comic way.
It is an unexpected moment of rhetorical hilarity, as funny as it is perceptive, and a fine example of writer Andy Marlatt’s sharp script, even though the hyperbole may at times slip into sounding a little overwritten. But as this is partly the point it does not diminish the overall impact.
Following the group’s worthy character development, coming to realise some important truths along the way, they end up just as confused and conflicted as the audience is. Yet their original criminal incentive cannot be completely pardoned. We are still allowed to feel a reasonable amount of antipathy towards them, making for a much more rounded and satisfying conclusion.
Intelligent, smart and divisive, Tribes teasingly provokes us us to re-think and re-evaluate our thoughts on identity, discrimination and expectation.
Saint Maud Synopsis: Maud (Morfydd Clark) is a reclusive young nurse whose impressionable demeanor causes her to pursue a pious path of Christian devotion after an obscure trauma. Now charged with the hospice care of Amanda (Jennifer Ehle), a retired dancer ravaged by cancer, Maud’s fervent faith quickly inspires an obsessive conviction to save her ward’s soul from eternal damnation, whatever the cost.
Nearly a year and a half removed from its uproarious Toronto International Film Festival debut (the film endured several COVID-related delays), A24’s holy horror vehicle Saint Maud is finally seeing the light of day. While its unceremonious Epix release is somewhat of a bummer, writer/director Rose Glass crafts an impressive debut with her moody meditations on religion’s comforting allures.
Atmospheric horror relies upon a connection between themes and technique, with the numerous misfires showcasing the inherent difficulty behind this finite balance. Saint Maud expertly escapes the genre’s occasionally overwhelming vapidness. From jump street, Glass viscerally places the audience in Maud’s insular footsteps, eerily blending our reality with Maud’s distorted view of the world around her. Her usage of dim lighting and intoxicating score choices generate a dreary mood for audiences to get lost in.
Where some filmmakers would push this division with cheap tricks, Glass’ empathetic eye allows audiences to delve beneath the surface of Maud’s obsessive tendencies. The horrors here generate from religion’s role as an emotional safeguard, as Maud’s supportive life-preserver eventually overtakes her life while repressed traumas spiral past their inevitable breaking point. Saint Maud works more than most horror vehicles because it doesn’t try to incite entertainment out of its dour circumstances. Glass creates a constant unease from Maud’s degradation without exploiting the character’s overwhelming pains in the process.
While some movies boast an accomplished cast, Saint Maud excels with a group that feels irreplaceable in their given roles. Morfydd Clark delivers a remarkable breakout turn as Maud, developing layers of emotion and complexion under the character’s mousy presence. It’s the quieter frames that showcase Clark’s ability the best, breaking down Maud’s rigid exterior to discover a desire to grow and connect. The supremely-underrated Jennifer Ehle makes a fitting sparring partner as an oft-kilter care patient, with the character’s free-spirited attitude clashing against Maud’s oppressive beliefs.
I was enamored throughout Saint Maud’s tight-knit 84-minute runtime, but Glass’ speedy experience does trade some of its depth in favor of genre trappings. For a narrative screenwriting debut, Glass admirably observes trauma and the ways we mask those pains through other vices. I just felt like there could have been more time to breathe within Maud’s turmoil, as a fairly rushed third act pushes the climax to a satisfying, yet semi-unfinished place. Glass’ ruminations on religion also aren’t singular enough to differentiate this story from other horror movies about obsessive protagonists.
A few familiar debut falterings never take away from Saint Maud’s alluring strengths. Writer/director Rose Glass exhibits herself as a promising voice due to her well-calibrated balance between style and substance.
Judas and the Black Messiah is a solid biopic of Fred Hampton and the conspiracy that killed him. Over two hours, Shaka King’s film presents a compelling popular history of the man, his ideology of Afro-Marxism, and the nefarious elements that caused his brutal assassination in December 1969.
The roots of conspiracy are established with pace and brevity. Petty crook William O’Neal (LaKeith Stanfield) bursts into a Chicago bar wielding a badge and donned in a raincoat and trilby. He uses this guise to frisk young black men at a pool table, taking cash and car keys that he claims to be contraband. However, a lapse in O’Neal’s confidence causes the men to see through his act and they pursue him onto the street, where a passing cop car catches him.
O’Neal finds himself in custody facing two years for grand theft auto and five years for impersonating a federal agent. However, Agent Roy Mitchell (Jesse Plemons) sees potential in this wily career criminal. He offers to drop the charges if O’Neal goes undercover and infiltrates Fred Hampton (Daniel Kaluuya) and the Illinois Black Panthers.
Soon, O’Neal is in close contact with Hampton, attending seminars and assisting at community functions. As Hampton, Kaluuya is an immediate screen presence, stealing every scene as he embodies the activist’s rousing energy. The London native adds another accent to his repertoire, too, seamlessly capturing the baritone rhythm of Hampton’s oratory. The only thing Kaluuya does not reflect is Hampton’s remarkable precociousness; he was just 21 on the night of his death.
O’Neal’s charade continues as he postures at the sidelines. He bears witness to street politics of black Chicago, namely the tensions between the Panthers and the Crowns, a fellow revolutionary group. More interesting than that, though, is Hampton’s diplomacy with white and Hispanic groups. It is here that he speaks not just as a civil rights campaigner but also as a socialist.
In one scene, Hampton addresses a provincial white crowd, empathizing with their blue-collar plight. Shortly before he takes the stage, the audience’s leader says, “Our people oppressed your people for years”, to which a crowd member responds, “My family didn’t oppress shit, they were sharecroppers!” Hampton understands this sentiment. Indeed, it was his understanding of power and authority that was most resonant about his brand of Afro-Marxism. Hampton’s rhetoric targeted not the average working person but the authority figure. He made this clear as he worked his audiences into a righteous frenzy, “I live for the people! I love the people!’ It was all part of his Marxist worldview, that of the haves and have-nots, which held equal footing with his black identity.
As the film details Hampton’s character and purpose, we are acutely aware of the tragedy creeping towards him. His eventual death is depicted literally and without stylisation, following the record established by the 1971 documentary The Murder of Fred Hampton. It is a fittingly direct ending to a film that explains but does not enthral, informs but does not involve. Because of this, despite its central performance, Judas and the Black Messiah will not join the pantheon of great biopics.
