Challengers

Tashi, a former tennis prodigy turned coach, turned her husband Art into a champion. But to overcome a losing streak, he needs to face his ex-best friend, Patrick, who’s also Tashi’s ex-boyfriend.

One thing that’s thrilling about Challengers is that it never gives you easy answers. Is it about devotion? Manipulation? Triumph? Doom? All of them? One thing’s for sure: it’s a film about passion. Raw physical and emotional passion between humans for one another, and for the kick they get doing the one thing they can’t live without — in this case, playing tennis. And for all the right reasons, Luca Guadagnino is at his most maximalist stylistically to convey this raw passion these characters feel and bring us into the world, from exciting editing and some experimental cinematography to the synth, almost Run Lola Run-esque score from Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross. It’s the polar opposite to his more naturalistic, minimalist approach to the intimacy of Call Me By Your Name, and an upping of the ante of the wilder style of Bones and All. Zendaya gives one of her heaviest performance, portraying Tashi perfectly over a long span of time, through fascination, ambition, longing, control, and deceit. Josh O’Connor and Mike Faist are also great, particularly Faist, whose charm entrances the screen. The West Side Story star announces himself as a powerhouse whose apparent harmlessness you can’t help but feel for. Their friendship established in the opening minutes of the film sets the stage for everything to come, and makes you care for how the rest may unfold or fall apart.

Challengers is the rare film that transports you into its world in a case where there are only 3 characters who really bear any significance. There’s a scene between the three main characters that happens early on chronologically that enchants you and sucks you into the close, complicated intimacy they inhabit in this space, and the film never lets you go once this scene happens until the credits roll. It’s an experience that’s dynamic, unpredictable, and darkly human, with three riveting leading performances at its center, and sets the bar the rest of what’s to come in Guadagnino’s directorial career.

Back to Black

Back to Black chronicles the life and music of Amy Winehouse, through the journey of adolescence to adulthood and the creation of one of the best-selling albums of our time.

It may feel like a step up from recent music biopics like Elvis and I Wanna Dance with Somebody, and may be on par with something like Respect and not quite at the glory of Rocketman. Marisa Abela is great as Winehouse, bringing the young music-loving girl to the screen in the start and the mess of an unstable addict she becomes later in life. But what’s most unbelievable is Abela’s singing which completely captures the one-of-a-kind grandeur of Amy’s voice. There are times when Abela completely disappears and you simply feel the singer alive in front of you. Eddie Marsan gives one of his most memorable performances to date as Amy’s father, while Lesley Manville also brings a lot to the movie as her grandmother. When Jack O’Connell comes in, however, as Amy’s love interest and eventual husband, the film falls into messy melodrama that sinks the runtime and falls into the same traps that many of these biopics suffer from when channeling the artist’s pain and troubles. Winehouse’s journey through love and addiction is filled with cliches, but is empathetic enough for us to forgive her shortcomings. The film also does a great job of incorporating her songs into the film, and best of all, it manages to have its audience actually interact with the subject as a tangible person, rather than just a larger-than-life legend. The more minimalistic approach to the musical biopic gives Back to Black a strong start, but you’ll also have a few too many instances of deja vu, though we’ve certainly seen it done worse. It’s watchable enough for non-fans of the late singer, but for some, it might not stand out among similar films with similar beats that have come out far too recently.

Ferrari

Ferrari is legendary director Michael Mann’s latest outing, telling the titular racing driver and entrepreneur’s family life and his entering of his racing team into the 1957 Mille Miglia cup in an attempt to solidify Ferrari as the greatest auto name in Italy — and maybe even the world.

Adam Driver gives a great performance as a figure whose determination for glory and pushing the limits as to what’s possible are front and center — but not necessarily depicted in the most interesting way. His character’s decisions don’t have a lot to say, neither does the story of his relationship with his wife, played by Penelope Cruz; rather it’s the performances that elevate the material. Shailene Woodley is also strong in the film, as is Patrick Dempsey, but again, their characters are more fun to see due to the actors’ work than what they give the film. Like with Ali, Michael Mann seems to be in control of the era he’s depicting through the racing scenes and the production of the scenery. The shots of the cars zooming through the Italian countryside are nice, and everything around Ferrari’s preparation for the race is engaging. However, Ferrari doesn’t have anything as momentous to say as its titular brand and its portrayal of the thrill of the sport of racing by the end of its runtime, which occasionally slows down. The third act is especially noteworthy and there’s a devastating event that hits hard at the end of the film. It’s always a pleasure to see Driver commit himself to a great role, but there’s certainly more resonant racing true stories such as Ford v Ferrari and Rush.

The Color Purple (2023)

The Color Purple is the second film adaptation of Alice Walker’s beloved novel, this one based on the Broadway musical adaptation as well, about a young woman named Celie who faces many hardships living in the South in the 1900s, but ultimately finds extraordinary strength and hope in the unbreakable bonds of sisterhood.

Though everyone in this new cinematic rendition The Color Purple is one of the best at what they do, the idea of making this a musical doesn’t always fit with the tone of all the rough things going on in the characters’ world, and the very clean cinematography removes the grit that Steven Spielberg’s version had that showed you the weight of the hardships and abuse Celie endured. Here, the most earned moments for Celie’s character aren’t necessarily her musical numbers but rather moments where Fantasia Barrino gets to shine just based on her interactions with other actors or set pieces that inform Celie’s character. Barrino is very strong in the role, but Taraji P. Henson runs away with the movie every time she shares a scene with her, or anyone for that matter. Henson portrays blues singer and “loose woman” Shug Avery with a power to her that commands every other character in both a loving and wise way, not to mention her show-stopping musical number in a tavern. Danielle Brooks is the other highlight as Sofia, whose characters shamelessness and courage shine through in both her songs and her incredible physical acting. Colman Domingo is simply incredible as Mister, inhabiting the character in not an inch less of meanness and disgust as Danny Glover did so brilliantly in the 1985 film, but also giving the abusive man a quietly human edge to him that Domingo finds even when the audience doesn’t want to see it. Corey Hawkins, Halle Bailey, and H.E.R. also give strong turns due to their potent screen presences and musical talents, and even Louis Gossett Jr. shows up for an excellent short appearance.

There’s no denying how amazing their singing and dancing is. However, it’s the songs themselves that don’t blend in with the material this story is telling. Save for a song or two, the lyrics aren’t quite memorable, either. This imagination of the story clearly works much better as a stage musical, where the audience can interact with the actors in real space as they sing and dance. For a film that gets cruelly serious at times, though the more uplifting song breaks don’t compliment the more hard-hitting scenes as much as the film would like to think, even though the actresses are always killing it. And although the costume design is award-worthy, the digital cinematography may have given it more of a music video edge that director Blitz Bazawule is used to, that could’ve benefitted from longer shots and a more period-like look. In short, come for the spectacular cast and a timeless story, but there’s no promising audiences won’t prefer the rougher and more dramatically coherent film that Spielberg led back in 1985 with Whoopi Goldberg and Oprah Winfrey.

The Zone of Interest

The Zone of Interest is not quite like any film-watching experience you’ve had before it, telling its story through the perspective of the commandant of Auschwitz, Rudolf Höss, and his wife Hedwig, as they strive to build a dream life for their family in a house and garden next to the camp. The film doesn’t focus on the horrors that family name caused, but rather the “ordinary” life they set out to lead — all as the unspeakable was unfolding on the other side of the wall. Jonathan Glazer creates an experience that feels like being sucked out of your seat and thrown into a time capsule. The cinematography is some of the best I’ve ever seen, especially with a film in which what you don’t see is the true thematic weight of the film.

Christian Friedel and Sandra Huller lead the film but are captured almost entirely through wide shots, as to not quite allow you to get close to these historical figures of evil and rather portray them in their seemingly cold and mundane lives. The sound editing is faint yet visceral, and sickening as a result. This is a film where the smallest of details are what create the true big picture — perhaps the echoing of a scream in the background that is never addressed by the characters as they go about the scene, or something small a character finds in the frame that he then hides from his children. This is how Glazer brings about the attitudes of people believing they deserve the best through hard work and a picturesque lifestyle, all while their lives are entangled in systems of evil. In addition, the metaphorical framing of objects in the house or stories and poems told create the most chilling of images in the most seemingly “innocent”. Mica Levi’s musical score isn’t ever-present in the film, but when it’s there, it sums up the film’s dark tone with an almost hellish omen of sin and sorrow. Though we’ve seen disturbing films about the evils of the Holocaust such as Schindler’s List and The Pianist, what this film dares to do is show the delusional ignorance of a wicked, bigoted people that was completely normalized to genocide. It’s a difficult yet haunting and essential watch that’s not only sadly relevant, but expertly told through the conjunction of sound, cinematography, and editing through Glazer’s singular vision.

American Fiction

Thelonious “Monk” Ellison, a writer frustrated with his struggles to gain fame and publish a book, is fed up with the establishment profiting from black trauma in entertainment, so he writes a book under a pen name that purposely feeds off the black stereotypes and exploitations he resents. Ironically, his book soon becomes a hit and propels him to the heart of hypocrisy and the madness he claims to disdain.

First-time director Cord Jefferson has created a laugh-out-loud satire that mirrors the world of entertainment we live in, but also balances the family drama elements strongly. Jeffrey Wright gives a career-best performance in a project that feels like it’s finally utilizing and exercising the beloved character actor’s talents to their full extent. Wright leans into the script’s “straight comedy” elements of Monk adopting an alias and putting up with his frustrations with the industry, but he also gives the film a lot of emotional gravitas that’s needed to feel for Monk as a human being. Sterling K. Brown is hysterical as Monk’s goofier younger brother who steals the scene just by being there and acting so out there, while Issa Rae and Erika Alexander also give strong supporting performances, not to mention the entertaining dynamic between Monk and his agent played by John Ortiz.

The film cleverly takes a meta approach to modern-day media consumption and the idea that the public will eat up any story about minority communities as long as they bathe in trauma and suffering. Jefferson’s script takes on the popularity of films like Boyz n the Hood, Precious, and many others in the idea that limiting black voices to black pain or pitiful stereotypes may make the culture overlook stories from black artists that don’t delve into such melodrama. The film jabs at the fact that for years, many black roles were slaves, gang member, or citizens of poor neighbors, and that there’s so much more to black characters and stories — and especially the idea of “woke” whites taking offense or defining the societal norms on behalf of minorities on such matters. There’s plenty of food for thought in the clever approach the film takes to its satire, but also laughs that sometimes come at you at a lighting speed, and nuanced characters who aren’t defined by their race, as Jefferson proves, all while showing frustration at the way things are. It’s as great of an audacious comedy as it is a character drama that offers a unique satirical voice with memorable performances from Wright and Brown.

Poor Things

Bella Baxter is a young woman brought back from the dead by the brilliant and unorthodox scientist Dr. Godwin Baxter. Under Baxter’s protection, Bella is eager to learn. Hungry for the worldliness she is lacking, Bella runs off with Duncan Wedderburn, a slick and debauched lawyer, on a whirlwind adventure across the continents.

Trigger warnings are a no-brainer with Yorgos Lanthimos, as his films are often filled with sadistic, violent, and hypersexualized power games where nobody is quite a pleasant person. These tropes as well as Lanthimos’ trademark cringe humor are just the baseline to describing Poor Things, a sickening yet grandiose movie that transcends categorization. It’s hysterical but not quite a comedy; it’s poetic but not quite a drama. Emma Stone gives a performance so demanding and so audacious yet it never breaks the illusion of being acting. You completely buy her character in the context of the story and are taken aback by her character’s abnormal physicality and wonder with being alive. Mark Ruffalo is also throwing himself into this role that could’ve easily fallen into unbelievability, but he perfectly balances an exaggerated, almost theatrical edge to his role with a vile, pitiful nature to it. Willem Dafoe plays a scientist under heaps of makeup whose motives may provide an emotional anchor to Stone’s character but also unpeels itself to be uncomfortably pathetic due to his background, and Ramy Youssef also does a great job here.

Poor Things may owe some of its inspiration to classic monster movies, but really isn’t like anything audiences have seen before. The production design creates an eye-popping, fantastical version of the Victorian Era and a world with a completely fresh aesthetic, as well as dynamic cinematography with color, B&W, and even a few fish-eye lens shots to invoke Bella’s warped worldview. Bella’s curiosity is devoid of prejudice and preconceived notions on the world’s structures, and she finds herself appalled by those around her trying to control her, and fascinated by anything she gets to choose to do. The humor is ridiculously honest and ballsy, and therefore, not for everyone — not to mention the exaggeratedly comic sex scenes and the uncompromising and even disgusting violence. Its audacity will certainly find its pleasurers, especially those who already love the director’s filmography. This bold tour de force isn’t for the faint of heart and may leave you at a loss for words. The writing and execution are exhilarating in the best way; the more disturbing and out-of-this world it gets, the less you’ll feel you want to look away. You’ll simply want to witness the bizarre yet fascinating unfold in front of you when it’s through Yorgos’ eye and so irresistibly played by Stone as this woman with the literal brain of an infant in her head, eager to experience being alive for all its peculiarities..

Killers of the Flower Moon

Martin Scorsese’s new film chronicles the Osage Nation’s discovery of oil on their land and surge to wealth in the 1920s, but dozens of Osage people were soon murdered one by one by white opportunists who sought to gain their fortune. Killers of the Flower Moon is a tragic historical Western epic that’s long but the director’s passion for the material shines through with expert storytelling that’s based on disturbing and sickening facts. The film’s beautiful and daring cinematography welcomes you into a rural world in Oklahoma that you probably didn’t learn about in history — that the Osage Native Americans were at one point some of the wealthiest people in the country, and their power in the oil industry. Even with countless films in which Scorsese has depicted cold brutal murders and tortures for power, there’s something to the way he frames the idea of violence here that’s even more gruesome — it’s an assault on an innocent people’s livelihood, a greedy and deceitful theft of power and order for personal gain. Not that his other films hadn’t explored this in the worlds of organized crime or religious persecution, but here it resonates for the terror and cultural genocide that the racial violence inflicts — much of which went without justice in reality.

Leonardo DiCaprio shows dedication to the role of Ernest Burkhart, his most morally murky character in years. Robert De Niro, meanwhile, is at his most pure evil, never holding back on the ruthlessness and false charm of his character. Lily Gladstone delivers one of the year’s most demanding and heart-shattering performances as Ernest’s Osage wife Mollie, who endures horrific losses and fears for her own existence as well as that of her entire people. Gladstone’s commitment and humanity takes the character to tragic depths and gives the film so much weight, and she should be a leading name in this year’s Best Actress discussion. Scorsese has clearly put so much care into bringing Osage culture and history to life, as well as trying to anger his viewers about the injustices that have been committed in American history. It shows the treacherous and predatory nature of its white antagonists who attempted to wipe out a people to usurp their oil empire, a greed that still marginalizes Indigenous people today. The 3-and-a-half-hour runtime could’ve probably trimmed around 20 minutes, but mostly earns it and helps the film feel like a story that spans years of corruption and destruction. Potentially one of Scorsese’s most emotionally disheartening and resonant works, it’ll make you want to learn even more about the legacy of the Osage killings and what the community is like today, and likely beg for Oscar nominations for the cast and crew of this masterful epic tale of widespread crime, betrayal, and evil that captures the American west for all its grandiose and horror.

Priscilla

When teenage Priscilla Beaulieu meets Elvis Presley, the man who is already a meteoric rock-and-roll superstar becomes someone entirely unexpected in private moments: a thrilling crush, an ally in loneliness, a vulnerable best friend.

Sofia Coppola’s strong directional choices, including the timely visuals and songs, shine through in Priscilla. Cailee Spaeny’s star-making performance shows Priscilla as a young woman who feels like the luckiest girl on Earth as she’s the one adored by the world’s most desirable and larger-than-life musicians and celebrities. She feels like she’s a princess, like she’s in Barbieland — except she soon learns that she’s seen as more of an accessory in Elvis’ “dollhouse” than the star. The movie doesn’t gloss past the couple’s age difference, nor does it forgive Elvis’ reckless habits and the consequences of fame on personal privacy and autonomy. Priscilla is depicted as a woman who always longed for independence but is never truly able to stand on her own two feet in her pursuit of adoration from the man she loves. Jacob Elordi also steals the scene as Elvis, perhaps not as pitch-perfect as Austin Butler’s transformation last year in Baz Luhrmann’s Elvis, but he still brings a lot to the role.

The costumes and production value create a very lavish look that shows the glamorous life Priscilla was attracted to and lived alongside Elvis, but within that a sense of loneliness as she struggles with sharing him — her Elvis — with the rest of the world, and the celebrity and husband versions of the man become hard to separate in their relationship. Though the second half does begin to feel structurally repetitive and doesn’t draw you in as much as the first half, the film knows exactly when to end in a moment that brings the best out of Spaeny’s performance. Priscilla is a personal look into the lives of legends that’s boasted by its aesthetic style and Spaeny’s naivety and gravitas she brings to the titular role.

The Holdovers

A cranky history teacher at a remote prep school is forced to remain on campus over the holidays with a troubled student who has no place to go.

Directed by Alexander Payne, who won Oscars for writing Sideways and The Descendants, The Holdovers is destined to be an instant classic. It’s my new favorite Payne movie, and shows Paul Giamatti as an expert actor in both the comedic and dramatic fronts, yet a very different performance from his Sideways role. He plays a resentful yet timid and lonesome soul who finds an unexpected companion over the Christmas break. Da’Vine Joy Randolph should be a frontrunner to get nominated for Best Supporting Actress as a woman dealing with unthinkable grief but still attempting to be a voice of warmth and reason for those around here. Dominic Sessa delivers a sensational and heartbreaking and breakout performance as a savage teenager devoid of his parents’ love, who is the center of the film along with Giamatti’s character. Payne’s direction is his most magnificent, delivering the 1970s sets and soundtrack with a feeling of grandiose. He digs deep into these broken misfits who have lovable souls underneath their pain, characters we’d often be quick to judge but soon would stand up through thick and thin as audience members. It has something for everyone, whether you want to laugh and feel connected, or a little poignant emotion too. Comedy and drama fans, this is one of the best of the year, and a highlight for both Payne and Giamatti’s careers as artists.