More stories

  • in

    ‘The Taking’ Review: This Land Is Not Your Land

    Monument Valley embodies the Old West. But the fantasies presented in Westerns obscure its darker history and the lives of the Navajo people who inhabit it.Whether it’s John Wayne films or Chevrolet ads, Monument Valley has been immortalized in the American imagination as a symbol of this nation’s vast potential. “The Taking,” a new documentary directed by Alexandre O. Philippe, examines the site’s complicated position as a representation of the Old West despite being located on Navajo land.In the film, images and clips of movies, TV shows and advertising campaigns that have traditionally featured Monument Valley are accompanied by voice-overs that explain how white cowboys have been viewed as heroes and Native Americans as aggressors, obscuring a history of genocide and oppression.The film argues that perhaps no one has been more central to this effort than the director John Ford, who used the region as the backdrop for his western movies, with the dramatic landscape evoking and perpetuating ideals of freedom and liberation central to his stories of rugged cowboys and villainous “Indians.”Obscured in this myth making is the reality of the Navajo people, many of whom still live in the region without running water or access to stable incomes. “The Taking” is successful in demonstrating the way in which Monument Valley has become a canvas onto which the public can superimpose their own ideas and myths. But had it included more current images of the region and the realities of the Navajo people, it may have been more effective in replacing these myths, going beyond film analysis to altering imagination.The TakingNot rated. Running time: 1 hour 16 minutes. In theaters. More

  • in

    ‘Stay Awake’ Review: Becoming Their Mother’s Caretakers

    This story of a small-town family impacted by addiction succeeds in humanizing its characters but falters when it tries to include a coming-of-age tale.Jamie Sisley’s narrative feature directorial debut, “Stay Awake,” is not a novel story for those with a family member or loved one struggling with addiction. A small-town drama, the film stars Wyatt Oleff and Fin Argus as two teenage brothers, Ethan and Derek, who are forced to become caregivers for their mother, Michelle (Chrissy Metz), after she becomes dependent on prescription painkillers. It’s an all-too-familiar scenario across the United States, and the highs, lows and disappointments that Michelle and her sons face throughout her rocky treatment are both incredibly human and unfortunately predictable.“Stay Awake” does its best to center both its addiction story and Ethan and Derek’s own separate coming-of-age arcs, all without demonizing any of its characters.It’s an admirable goal that sometimes comes off as clunky and meandering, such as when Ethan awkwardly breaks up with his girlfriend by revealing he plans to go to a different college. The ensuing drama doesn’t quite match up to the life-or-death stakes present elsewhere in the film, or even to other situations Ethan faces, like having a secret crush on a male classmate. Despite such shortcomings, Oleff, Argus and Metz succeed in depicting both the frustrations and the compassion associated with caring for relatives who continuously harm themselves.Stay AwakeNot rated. Running time: 1 hour 34 minutes. In theaters. More

  • in

    ‘Butterfly Vision’ Review: A Ukrainian Soldier’s Lonely Struggle

    A traumatized woman returns home from eastern Ukraine after being held captive by Russian separatists.In the relentlessly bleak military drama “Butterfly Vision,” Lilia (Rita Burkovska) is a Ukrainian drone pilot struggling to readjust to life on the home front after enduring months in captivity at the hands of Russian separatists in the Donbas region.The story begins as Lilia makes the trek home, where she tends to an array of keloid scars and a flood of disturbing memories. She receives limited support from her anguished mother (Myroslava Vytrykhovska-Makar) and even less from her husband, Tokha (Lyubomyr Valivots), an extremist militia member who seems capable of accessing only two frames of mind: seething rancor or violent rage.This series of upsetting events grows even more dire, though, after we learn that Lilia was raped while captive and has become pregnant as a result.From the outset, the director, Maksym Nakonechnyi, establishes a cinematic language that incorporates footage from various sources: livestream feeds, aerial drone video, broadcast news B-roll. Perhaps the film’s most audacious choice is to use the texture of these formats — their lags, distortion and pixelation — when conveying Lilia’s daily torrent of post-traumatic stress. The effect is jarring, and feels less like a window into her experience than a brash camera trick.But “Butterfly Vision” distinguishes itself in its setting. The film was made before Russia invaded Ukraine in February 2022, and its story captures an early wartime phase when attitudes toward the conflict were divided. In one scene, Lilia boards a bus and claims exemption from the fare because of her status as a veteran. Vexed and disapproving, the driver and passengers raise a ruckus until she disembarks. The film might aim to deliver an aesthetic and emotional jolt, but it is the mundane, interpersonal moments that linger.Butterfly VisionNot rated. In Ukrainian, English and Russian, with subtitles. Running time: 1 hour 47 minutes. Watch on Mubi. More

  • in

    ‘The Night of the 12th’ Review: When a Case Doesn’t Close

    This refreshingly grounded French crime procedural portrays what happens when a brutal murder case eludes the diligent efforts of a by-the-book investigator.Police procedurals don’t usually start by saying that the crime at hand will not be solved. But Dominik Moll’s “The Night of the 12th” does just that, and then watches a French investigator labor away at a murder case before reluctantly abandoning it. This is a refreshingly grounded, deceptively plain picture of crime-fighting as a grind of false leads, workplace fatigue and no closure.Walking home late from a party, Clara, a joyful teenager (Lula Cotton Frapier), is doused in fuel by a hooded stranger and set on fire. Yohan (Bastien Bouillon), an extremely square new leader of a judicial police unit, questions a series of sketchy and dismissive guys that Clara may have been involved with, turning up no definitive answers. Clara’s friend offers one answer that neatly sums up the misogyny of being subject to such random brutality: it was because she was a girl.Likely suspects emerge, then fall away; phone call audio is analyzed, to no avail. After a few years, a judge takes interest in the cold case, funding new surveillance. But even though the inexpressive Yohan does seem like one of the good guys, he’s going in circles, and can’t even help his burned-out partner, Marceau (Bouli Lanners).Despite all the best intentions, “cracking a case” just doesn’t happen sometimes, and the movie (based on a nonfiction book by Pauline Guéna) matter-of-factly avoids the magical thinking we’ve absorbed from decades of macho crime-fighting yarns. Instead, it’s a matter of coping with long-term, slow-motion frustrations and failure — something sadly closer to a lot of common experience than save-the-day heroism.The Night of the 12thNot rated. In French with subtitles. Running time: 1 hour 55 minutes. In theaters. More

  • in

    ‘White Building’ Review: Coming of Age in Cambodia

    Kavich Neang’s lush feature tells a largely autobiographical tale of growing up in a building whose often painful history is a microcosm of his country’s.The title of Kavich Neang’s richly observed feature, “White Building,” is, first of all, an exaggeration: The dilapidated apartment bloc it describes is so chipped and black with soot that it’s barely white; indeed, it is so falling apart that it’s barely a building.But for Samnang (Piseth Chhun), the young protagonist of this sensitive and largely autobiographical coming-of-age portrayal, it is home, as the real-life White Building it is based on was for Neang.Located in central Phnom Penh, the building is an apt symbol of the often excruciating changes Cambodia has endured over the last 60 years. It was built in the 1960s to house civil servants, then emptied during the Khmer Rouge’s forced relocations of the 1970s. In the ’80s, it became home to working class people like Samnang’s diabetic father (Sithan Hout), who, like Neang’s, is a sculptor. Now its inhabitants are being pushed to take a lousy deal so it can be demolished for new development, in a city they can no longer afford.Unlike his parents, Samnang has no memories of the Khmer Rouge. He and his friends grew up with cellphones and hip-hop, and they dream of becoming a famous dance troupe. They want what other boys of their generation want: girlfriends, Nikes, a chance to prove themselves.Neang excels at that Tarkovskian trick of rendering the small details of decay — a cracked tile, a leaking ceiling — with such lived-in precision that they feel somehow specific and surreal at once; like the title, images strain their own semantic boundaries. The film’s loose plotting and secondary character development can leave a few too many hanging threads, but its sense of place is so palpable you can almost smell the smoky city markets, the sweat, the hormones.White BuildingNot rated. In Khmer, with subtitles. Running time: 1 hour 30 minutes. In theaters. More

  • in

    ‘Come Out Fighting’ Review: The Battle of the Budget

    A veteran cast attempts to fend off a deluge of clichés in this cheap-looking, pleasingly scrappy war film.The microbudget war movie “Come Out Fighting” is so conspicuously cheap-looking that it could be initially mistaken for one of the direct-to-video mockbusters made by the somewhat infamous indie studio The Asylum — those thrifty, semi-plagiaristic exploitation flicks like “Ardennes Fury” or “Operation Dunkirk,” which have little to recommend them besides their zany, so-bad-it’s-almost-good zeal. But while it has a blatant shoestring sheen, “Come Out Fighting” isn’t arch or irony-laden; in fact, the tone is quite serious, albeit also seriously clichéd. Between the dogfights, ambushes, minefield maneuvers and flamethrower attacks — all of them realized with cut-rate visual effects — the film is contemplative and somber, pensively reflecting on such steadfast wartime themes as determination, valor and courage among men. Perhaps needless to say, the movie features no women.It features no surprises, either, telling a familiar story about a squad of stouthearted soldiers in World War II endeavoring to rescue their commanding officer after he is trapped behind enemy lines. The writer-director Steven Luke, who has several of these low-budget war movies under his belt now, leans hard on the conventions of the genre, and borrows heavily from “Saving Private Ryan.” His writing is thin and tends regularly toward platitudes, with characters spouting wisdom like “the cards have to fall where they fall.”Both Luke and his cast — especially Hiram A. Murray as the indomitable Lt. Hayes and Dolph Lundgren as the experienced and kindly Major Anderson — seem gamely committed to the material, managing at times to muster a genuine sense of gravity. This impression of effort on the part of all involved makes “Come Out Fighting” strangely likable even when it’s bad. And it is often bad.Come Out FightingNot rated. Running time: 1 hour 25 minutes. In theaters and available on demand. More

  • in

    ‘Sanctuary’ Review: Who’s the Boss?

    A wealthy heir and his longtime employee vie for control over their uncommon relationship in this twisty duet.If you’re someone who regularly bemoans the dearth of movies for adults, then take heart: “Sanctuary” is here for you. Shot almost entirely in a single location and in just 18 days, Zachary Wigon’s supremely confident second feature (after “The Heart Machine” in 2014) is a jet-black romantic comedy hidden inside a twisty psychosexual thriller. Or maybe it’s the other way around.It scarcely matters. The writing (by Micah Bloomberg, a creator of the 2018-20 TV series “Homecoming”) is so sharp, the acting so agile and the cinematography (by Ludovica Isidori) so inventive that what could have been a stuffy experiment in lockdown filmmaking is instead a vividly involving battle of wills. On one side we have Hal (Christopher Abbott), the presumptive heir to his recently-deceased father’s chain of luxury hotels. On the other is Rebecca (Margaret Qualley), a brisk beauty who arrives at Hal’s plush hotel suite, pulls out a sheaf of papers, and proceeds to ostensibly review his suitability to take over as C.E.O.But something is off; and as Rebecca’s questions grow increasingly inappropriate — and Hal’s responses appear blatantly untruthful — it’s revealed that she’s his longtime dominatrix, playing her part in a well-worn scenario. This time, though, Rebecca is improvising on Hal’s meticulously pre-written script, and his displeasure is only the first point of friction in a dizzying series of power plays that swing from sexual to financial and, finally, emotional. Alongside, Isidori’s cheeky camera mimics the pair’s volatile maneuverings, swooping and flipping through 180 degrees as it tests the limitations of what is essentially a two-character play, transforming it into something that’s often thrillingly cinematic.Unfolding over one fraught night, “Sanctuary” dances on the border between fantasy and reality. Hal, a soft-shell weakling who’s nonetheless steeled by entitlement, wants to begin his new life as “a person who wins.” As such, he feels the services of a sex worker are surplus to requirements; and as he moves to end his relationship with Rebecca, his actions — providing a lavish dinner and the gift of an expensive watch — insultingly mimic the familiar tropes of the retirement ceremony. He’s about to find out, though, that this employee will not be pensioned off so easily.Both actors are excellent, but Qualley is chameleonic in a role that requires her to slide seamlessly from playful to stern, cunning to confrontational, penitent to downright scary. At times, as when Hal erupts with unexpected violence, her face freezes and we can almost see her contriving ways to regain control of a suddenly dangerous situation. If she’s to succeed, she’ll need more than a talent for debasement and humiliation.Sexual but not sexy, “Sanctuary” is fantastically dynamic and emphatically theatrical. The ending feels too smoothly settled, but it at least prods Hal and Rebecca to answer the film’s central question: Where does role-playing end and real life begin?SanctuaryRated R for nasty talk and naughty behavior. Running time: 1 hour 36 minutes. In theaters. More

  • in

    ‘The Cow Who Sang a Song Into the Future’ Review:

    This lyrical debut feature from Francisca Alegría is a slow-burning parable about our relationship to each other and to the living world.The final 20 minutes or so of “The Cow Who Sang a Song Into the Future,” the slow-burning parable from the writer-director Francisca Alegría, are almost entirely wordless. In its last act, the film follows the members of a fractured family as they wander about, cast in different directions and undone by recent oddities on their dairy farm. The power of Alegría’s feature debut is found not in dialogue or explication, but in the lyrical, magical realist qualities of folklore: disappointed mothers and fathers, sacred animals and cursed rivers, love and forgiveness.At the film’s start, a woman (Mía Maestro) bubbles up from the surface of the water, landing on a riverbank filled with dead fish. In a store, an old man (Alfredo Castro) collapses at the sight of her. Miraculously alive and not having aged a day, she appears to be Magdalena, the man’s wife who mysteriously drowned herself decades earlier, leaving him and his two children behind. Soon after, the man’s daughter, Cecilia (Leonor Varela) returns to the family farm to care for her shaken father. Cecilia has her hangups about her mother’s death and her own teenage child’s transgender identity.As Magdalena wanders back to the farm, the family begins to reckon with a complicated past, and the cows, which she had always loved but that suffer from the realities of factory farming, begin acting strangely. Through these animals, the film becomes an allegorical prayer — an elegy for human failures toward one another and the living world, and an incantation for a return and reversal of sorts.While often elliptical, Alegría’s directing is patient, a good quality for a movie that could have fallen prey to sanctimony. In this film, the purest truth can be seen in the eyes of its cows — the mournful gaze of the mothers, and the tragically innocent look of the calves that have been torn from them.The Cow Who Sang a Song Into the FutureNot rated. In Spanish, with subtitles. Running time: 1 hour 38 minutes. In theaters. More