As Queen Eleanor muses in The Lion in Winter: “What family doesn’t have its ups and downs?” Writer-director Zoe Pepper’s twisted dark comedy thriller is like a 21st-Century take on James Goldman’s classic tale of family dysfunction. In this case, the prodigal son has not returned to the manor for a brief visit, but for an indeterminate stay.
Cory (Travis Jeffrey) and his very pregnant wife Jasmine (Maria Angelico) have been hit with a double whammy: Cory has been laid off and the couple have been evicted. Broke and desperate, Cory shows up on the doorstep of his upper middle-class parents’ estate and asks if it’s okay that they stay a few days . His judgemental father (Michael Hurst) and ice-queen mother (Linda Cropper) seem wary at best. They agree, but with some “tough love” caveats. As temporary lodging morphs into “taking up residence”, family tensions mount, old wounds reopen and an epic battle between father and son for the title of King of the Castle ensues. This is the most trenchant Australian social satire I’ve seen since Don’s Party.
Tribeca’s closing night selection this year is a riveting eco-doc that profiles Indigenous rights activist Juma Xipaia (the first female Indigenous chief of her people in the Middle Xingu) and her husband Hugo, who heads up a government special ops team that locates and shuts down illegal mining operations in Brazil’s Amazon region.
Richard Ladkani’s doc unfolds like a Costa-Gavras political thriller; early on in the film we see harrowing footage of Juma participating in a protest outside of the National Congress Palace in Brasilia where riot police suddenly fire a fusillade of live rounds into the crowd. A distraught Juma kneels beside a tribal activist who appears to be gravely wounded, pleading for him to respond (he doesn’t) until fellow demonstrators pull her away, out of the line of fire.
Juma, we learn, is no stranger to the threat of violence; she has survived a number of assassination attempts over the years and continues to be under threat. Yet she soldiers on, fighting outside and (eventually) inside of Brazil’s political system for her people…as does her husband (Juma and Hugo form an eco-warrior power couple).
Ladkani follows Hugo and his team on several missions; these scenes play like they are straight out of an action film, but instilled with an all-too-real sense of danger (the illegal miners are frequently armed and rarely happy to see the government commandos). Mining has been prohibited since Brazil’s Federal Constitution of 1988, as it not only wreaks havoc on the Amazonian ecosystem, but has a number of negative health effects on the Indigenous peoples of the region.
Ladkani’s film is slickly made and hypnotically photographed, but doesn’t pull any punches regarding its heavy subject matter. When you consider 10,000 acres of the Amazon rainforest are destroyed every day, the sense of urgency here becomes all the more palpable.
Many were increasingly of the opinion [that humans] made a big mistake in coming down from the trees in the first place. And some said that even the trees had been a bad move, and that no one should ever have left the oceans.
― Douglas Adams, from The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy
What makes us “human”…is it nature, or nurture? How many times have you heard admonishments like “don’t wolf your food” or “you’re acting like an animal”? Are we not mammals, after all?
Writer-director David Verbeek tackles that age-old question in this speculative fiction yarn about the discovery of a young woman (Jessica Reynolds) who has literally been raised by wolves. Naturally, her first accommodation in the “civilized” world is a cold, clinical research facility, where she is poked and prodded and ogled at by people in white coats.
Frightened and confused, she barely has time to acclimate to these alien surroundings before a pair of cultish survivalists spirit her away to an abandoned offshore oil rig. The couple imprint themselves as parental figures and methodically indoctrinate her into their idiosyncratic vision of an environmental apocalypse.
The trio seem well on their way to forming a cozy family unit-until the young woman discovers (much to her chagrin) that her “parents” have feet of clay (you can take the wolf-girl out of the forest…).
I see touchstones like The Wild Child, The Emerald Forest, Altered States, and Charly; but Verbeek has put a unique 21st Century spin on some time-worn themes. His secret weapon is Reynolds, who delivers an extraordinary performance that runs the gamut from running around on all fours and dining al fresco on small game to making small talk with her customers at the grocery checkout counter.
Rimmer: [pretending to be interested in art to impress Legion] Now, this 3-dimensional sculpture in particular is quite exquisite. Its simplicity, its bold, stark lines. Pray, what do you call it?
Legion: The light switch.
Rimmer: The light switch?
Legion: Yes.
Rimmer: I couldn’t buy it, then?
Legion: Not really. I need it to turn the lights on and off.
– From the comedy series Red Dwarf (written by Rob Grant and Doug Naylor)
That exchange is chiefly played for laughs of course, but it also makes a point about the subjectivity of “art”. In my 2007 review of the documentary My Kid Could Paint That, I wrote:
Whose judgment determines the intrinsic and/or monetary value of a painting-a local newspaper reporter, a New York Times art critic or Mike Wallace? Does the eye of the beholder still count for anything? Does it really matter who painted it, if you feel it’s worth hanging on your wall? Who wrote Shakespeare’s plays-Francis Bacon or the Earl of Oxford, and do you care? Does it really matter that the Monkees didn’t write any of their hits or play their own instruments?
How about an artist whose “art” was literally garbage? Would you label their work as same? In this fascinating documentary, director Toby Perl Freilich profiles the life and work of performance artist/self-billed “eco-feminist” Mierle Laderman Ukeles, who holds the title of (unpaid) Artist in Residence at the NYC Department of Sanitation.
That is not to say all of her work is garbage. Frelich mixes the septuagenarian artist’s recollections with archival footage to glean what led to Ukeles’s decades-long obsession with transforming the mundane tasks of everyday housewives and maintenance workers into a form of socially-conscious high art.
Ukeles didn’t pop out of the box fully formed. Early in her career, she experimented with everything from abstract sculptures to inflatable “air art”. But it wasn’t until after her marriage in 1966 that she discovered her path. In a 1969 manifesto, she stated in part:
Maintenance is a drag; it takes all the fucking time (lit.) The mind boggles and chafes at the boredom. The culture confers lousy status on maintenance jobs=minimum wage, housewives=no pay. […] Everything I say is Art is Art. Everything I do is Art is Art. “We have no Art, we try to do everything well.” (Balinese saying). […]My working will be the work.
Maintenance Artist is a thought-provoking film worth hanging on your wall.
(Originally posted on Digby’s Hullabaloo on Jun 11, 2025)
The music world has lost a giant today. Since the news broke, it seems all the superlatives have been used up describing Brian Wilson’s genius, so I thought I’d let the music do the talking. And rather than slapping together a playlist of The Beach Boys greatest hits (too easy), it feels more appropriate to celebrate Wilson’s legacy via artists who have taken inspiration from him. In tribute, here are 15 covers and originals that channel his spirit.
The Beatles – “Back in the U.S.S.R.” – Granted, this may be cheating a bit, considering that (as the story goes) Beach Boy Mike Love overheard Paul McCartney working on this tune when they were both studying under the Maharishi Mahesh Yogi in India and suggested that “[what Paul] ought to do is talk about the girls all around Russia, the Ukraine, and Georgia.” And so it came to pass. Then again, The Beatles didn’t give a tip o’ the hat to just anybody, you know.
First Class – “Beach Baby” – UK studio band First Class was the brainchild of singer-songwriter Tony Burrows, who also sang lead on other one-hit wonders, including “Love Grows Where My Rosemary Goes” (The Edison Lighthouse), “My Baby Loves Lovin’” (White Plains), and “United We Stand” (The Brotherhood of Man). This pop confection was a Top 10 song in the U.S. in 1974.
Matthew Sweet and Susanna Hoffs – “The Warmth of the Sun” – A lovely cover from Sweet and Hoffs’ Under the Covers, Vol. 1 collaboration album. The original version (featuring one of Brian Wilson’s most gorgeous melodies) was on the 1964 album Shut Down Vol 2. Atypically introspective and melancholy for this era of the band, it had an unusual origin story. Wilson and Mike Love began work on the tune in the wee hours of the morning JFK was assassinated; news of the event changed the tenor of the lyrics and vocal performances.
Todd Rundgren – “Good Vibrations” – A near carbon copy of the Beach Boys’ brilliant 1966 hit, which famously took Wilson 7 months to produce (in four studios). This cut is from Rundgren’s 1976 album Faithful, which features one side of originals and the other devoted to “faithful” covers of 60s tunes.
10cc – “The Dean and I” – Imbued with shades of “Wouldn’t It Be Nice” (particularly on the bridge) and typically cheeky lyrics, this cut is from 10cc’s eponymous 1973 debut album.
Roy Wood – “Why Does Such a Pretty Girl Sing Those Sad Songs” – This uncanny homage is taken from the former Move front man’s 2nd solo album Mustard, released in 1975. I wager this one could pass as an original Brian Wilson composition in a blindfold test!
The High Llamas – “Over the River” – Band founder/keyboardist Sean O’Hagan has never made a secret of his admiration for Brian Wilson, hence I could have picked any number of his compositions to include. This instrumental, featured on the band’s 1998 Cold and Bouncy album, rings of Wilson’s Smile era.
Me First and the Gimme Gimmes – “Sloop John B.” – This fun punk-pop cover of a Pet Sounds cut cleverly tips its hat to the Beach Boys and The Ramones!
The Raspberries – “Cruisin’ Music” – The Raspberries go beach cruisin’ a la Wilson, from their 1974 album Starting Over.
Ken Sharp – “Girl Don’t Tell Me” – Ken Sharp is a sort of power pop Renaissance man; in addition to releasing a number of singles and albums, he has authored/co-authored 18 music books-including tomes on Cheap Trick, The Raspberries, The Small Faces, and Rick Springfield. This song was the B-side of the Beach Boys’ 1965 hit “Barbara Ann”; Sharp’s cover incorporates Beatle influences.
Martin Newell – “Miss Van Houten’s Coffee Shoppe” – Despite the fact that he writes hook-laden pop gems in his sleep, and has been doing so for five decades, endearingly eccentric singer-musician-songwriter-poet Martin Newell (Cleaners From Venus, Brotherhood of Lizards) remains a selfishly-guarded secret by cultish admirers (of which I am one). This bouncy number suggests some heavy Brian Wilson influence.
Los Lobos – “Sail on Sailor” – This fabulous cover is from Los Lobos’ 2021 album Native Sons, which paid tribute to L.A.-based artists.
The Dukes of Stratosphear – “Pale and Precious” – It’s hard to miss the Brian Wilson influence in this cut, taken from the band’s 2nd album Psonic Psunspot (this “band” was actually a nom de plume for an XTC side project).
Flo & Eddie – “Keep it Warm” – Here’s another one that could pass for a Wilson original (well…satirical lyrics aside), by ex-Turtles/Mothers of Invention members Howard Kaylan and Mark Volman, from their 1975 album Illegal, Immoral, and Fattening.
David Lee Roth – “California Girls” – No one could ever accuse the former Van Halen front man of being camera-shy. This remains one of the most memorable 80s videos, and also holds up as a great arrangement of one of Brian Wilson’s signature compositions.
More lo-fi than “sci-fi” (as it is billed), Lucia Garibaldi’s minimalist drama suggests a near-future Uruguay wherein dogs have disappeared, ants are to be feared, youth is revered, and everybody’s weird. The story centers on a sullen and taciturn 18 year-old named Elisa (Martina Passeggi), who lives with her mother in a dark and dreary apartment complex. Elisa has been chosen by some nebulous government institute to go to “the North”, which appears to be a coveted Shangri-La to the citizenry. Problem is, once people go there, they are never heard from again (like Elisa’s sister, for example).
Regardless, it’s considered an honor to be chosen; there are even lotteries for a chance to make the journey (echoes of Logan’s Run, where people about to turn the state-mandated life termination age of 30 hope for a chance at “renewal”-which no one ever seems to achieve). Elisa’s mother is scraping and saving for a lottery ticket; and she’s chagrined at Elisa’s ambivalence about her own luck.
When a 30-something female neighbor with a prosthetic leg and dubious intentions takes a sudden interest in becoming Elisa’s bestie, complications ensue. A scene where Elisa offers the “smell of youth” for a fee was nearly a bail point for me. While there are a few interesting ideas, none of them really go anywhere, much less the narrative. Unfortunately, A Bright Future is little more than a dim bulb.
(Originally posted on Digby’s Hullabaloo on June 7, 2025)
Every time I try to swear off prison dramas…they pull me back in (and throw away the key). In the case of writer-director Charles Williams’ Inside, I was intrigued by the casting. Guy Pearce plays a grizzled long-term inmate who becomes mentor to a young man (Vincent Miller) who has just been transferred from a juvenile facility. When a notorious lifer (Cosmo Jarvis) who fancies himself a religious prophet takes an interest in the new inmate, an uneasy surrogate father triangle ensues.
There are three solid, intense performances here by the leads, but there are jarring narrative jumps which require some heavy lifting by the viewer. It’s possible that I was thrown off by the odd tics of Jarvis’ character. It’s an interesting performance (along the lines of Billy Bob Thornton’s Sling Blade character), but frankly I could not understand three-quarters of his dialog (perhaps a second viewing wherein I have the option of close-captioning will clarify some plot points for me). Until then…a guarded recommendation.
(Originally posted on Digby’s Hullabaloo on June 7, 2025)
Mother of God, man…another film about Hunter S. Thompson?! Well yes…and no. Because you see, the adrenochrome-addled gonzo journalist pecking away at a bullet-riddled typewriter in Patricia Arquette’s dramedy is named “Walker Reade” (Willem Dafoe). A starry-eyed super-fan and aspiring writer named Alley (Camila Morrone) lucks into a gig as Reade’s writing assistant.
Reade’s muse has gone fallow; he has writer’s block and is under deadline pressure from his publisher to deliver a new book. While she takes initial warnings from his long-time, world-weary live-in assistant (played by Arquette) with a grain of salt, Alley soon learns that “writing assistant” could mean anything from “babysitter” to “caregiver”.
As one might expect, there are echoes here of Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas and Where the Buffalo Roam (and yes, there is a requisite “first acid trip” escapade). That said, the film vibes more like a hybrid of All About Eve and Get Him to the Greek. Jessica Caldwell and Rebecca Thomas adapted the screenplay from Cheryl Della Pietra’s eponymous novel (which the author based on her real-life stint as Hunter S. Thompson’s assistant).
While at times a bit uneven in tone, Arquette’s directorial debut is,for the most part, an enjoyable romp for Hunter S. Thompson fans. Morrone gives an impressive performance, and Dafoe portrays Hunter with a typically idiosyncratic flourish (sans the somewhat self-conscious mannerisms that Bill Murray and Johnny Depp deployed in their characterizations).
(Originally posted on Digby’s Hullabaloo on June 7, 2025)
Witch hunt! Put Hammer horror, Ralph Bakshi, Peter Greenaway and Ken Russell in a blender, and out pops something that approximates co-directors Raitis and Lauris Ābele’s rotoscoped animation fantasy, set in a Livonian village in the 1600s. A comely herbalist/tavern maid (who may or may not be a witch), an impotent Duke, a malevolent Benedictine pastor and his long-suffering whipping boy, and a (sort of) werewolf all converge in this entertainingly over-the-top folk horror tale of superstition, dogma, and human frailty. Earthy, sexy, visceral, and hallucinogenic, with a dash of dark humor. Not for all tastes (or the squeamish), but adult animation fans should dig it.
(Originally posted on Digby’s Hullabaloo on June 7, 2025)
Adolescence can be an emotional roller coaster; likewise the grief process. Dealing with both at once is a daunting test of anyone’s mettle. Chilean writer-director Nayra Ilic Garcia’s meditative family drama opens on New Year’s Eve, 1990. Vivacious 15 year-old Celeste (Helen Mrugalski) is enjoying a beach holiday with her loving family and closest friends (I had to remind myself that Chile is below the equator).
This is not only a happy time for Celeste and her entourage, but for Chileans in general. General Pinochet’s brutal Junta is over for good, with democratically-elected Christian Democrat Patricio Aylwin set to take office in March of the new year.
However, just when everything’s looking up, Fate intervenes with a sudden death in the family. Celeste’s double-whammy of having to cope with growing pains along with an emotionally traumatic personal loss gives impetus to this moving and sensitively acted coming-of-age story. Garcia subtly weaves political analogy in the narrative; using the specter of Chile’s “missing” to mirror a nation coming to terms with collective grief, and the growing pains of a revived democracy that has lain dormant for far too long.
