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    ‘2023 Sundance Film Festival Short Films’ Review: Small Bites’

    From animated partygoers to real families embracing a name, this basket of goodies includes seven titles, among them comedy, tragedy and documentary.Every year, features from the Sundance Film Festival can become critical favorites — “Past Lives” is a notable example — but the fest’s shorter works can fade away. The “2023 Sundance Film Festival Short Film Tour” brings a seven-film omnibus to cinemas across the country, and Kayla Abuda Galang’s “When You Left Me on That Boulevard” alone is reason enough to see it.This lovely and funny short portrays a Filipino American family’s Thanksgiving get-together through the eyes of Ly, an introverted teenager who’s a daydreamer even before she gets stoned with her cousins. It’s a film that contains both bustling images and delicate vibes, inner-voice stillness and subtle soundscapes, all of which can flourish in a movie theater.Galang seems especially drawn to dialing into private spaces in social situations, for example when Ly talks about her boyfriend as if to herself, until a cut reveals she’s surrounded by family members. Ly can sound endearingly oblivious, but instead of having the actor play that tendency for cheap laughs, the writer-director picks up on the warmth in the room.Galang also looks out for different ways of showing how the family is together, whether it’s karaoke — the short’s title comes from a song Ly’s aunt belts out — or a cool split shot of kids and parents hanging out on either side of a wall. If past Sundance collections are any guide, this short might preview a feature, and Galang’s immersive exploration of inner and outer spaces makes one eager to watch what comes next.Family bonds weather transitions in a number of the shorts. “Parker,” from Catherine Hoffman and Sharon Liese, the sole documentary in this selection, teases out a rich, arduous history of Black experience in a decision by members of a family in Kansas City to adopt the same surname. Interviews with the parents and their children show the love, and the fears and trauma, that can be inscribed in a name, and the peace of mind and unity promised by their choice.Resembling vérité nonfiction, Crystal Kayiza’s “Rest Stop” follows a Ugandan-American mother traveling with her three children to join her estranged partner. Kayiza dwells on scenes that a feature might relegate to a montage, the better to sit with feeling unsettled and tired and scattered, but pushing ahead to another future. Liz Sargent’s “Take Me Home” is also a portrait in becoming, as an overwhelmed, cognitively disabled woman (played by Sargent’s real-life sister, Anna) sends an S.O.S. to her sister after years of relying on their ailing mother.Comedies are well-represented in the collection: “Pro Pool” feels like a trailer for itself as it churns through retail workplace humor, while the stop-motion animation “Inglorious Liaisons” fondly portrays a goofy teen party, wherein people have light switches for faces. But Aemilia Scott’s shrewdly written, well-cast opener to the program, “Help Me Understand,” turns a focus group of women testing detergent scents into a nervy experiment in hung-jury dynamics. Shifting gears from satire to a double-edged dissection of point of view, it’s a snappy way of prepping viewers for the multiplicity of voices to follow.2023 Sundance Film Festival Short Film TourNot rated. Running time: 1 hour 27 minutes. In theaters. More

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    ‘God Is a Bullet’ Review: Cult, but Not Classic

    A kidnapping cult regrets making off with a detective’s daughter in this wearyingly unsavory movie.I didn’t count the number of times a woman’s face is smashed — by a fist, a boot, a brick wall — in “God Is a Bullet,” Nick Cassavetes’s first feature in almost a decade. But the misogyny of the movie’s risibly sadistic villains is only one distasteful thread in this sleazy saga of rescue and revenge.Adapted by Cassavetes from Boston Teran’s 1999 novel of the same name, the plot centers on Bob Hightower (Nikolaj Coster-Waldau), a mild-mannered detective, as he searches for the child-trafficking cult that has murdered his ex-wife and abducted his daughter. Impassive behind a despairing mustache, Bob welcomes the foulmouthed assistance of Case (Maika Monroe), a battle-hardened cult escapee. Case possesses intimate knowledge of the gang’s degenerate leader, Cyrus (a crazy-eyed Karl Glusman), for whom she has sacrificed several teeth and most of her self-respect.The searchers don’t have much of a plan, drifting through the dim rooms and dusty outposts where Cyrus and his acolytes might be found. Jamie Foxx, inexplicably named The Ferryman, is around to provide Bob with tattoos and ammunition, and an almost unrecognizable January Jones appears briefly as a sneering drunk whose pertinence remains vague — at least to anyone as numbed by the film’s viciousness as I was.Coming in at an interminable 155 minutes, “God Is a Bullet” has a punishing implacability. The acting is workmanlike, the settings are often ugly and the special effects — especially a grisly stomach-stapling — can only be described as strenuously specific. For Cassavetes, this may be as far from “The Notebook” as he is ever likely to get.God Is a BulletNot rated. Running time: 2 hours 35 minutes. In theaters. More

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    ‘Revoir Paris’ Review: Recovering Fragments of Memory

    In Alice Winocour’s taut film, a woman survives a terrorist and tries to piece together what happened that day and how it changed her.When Mia, the heroine of the tense French drama “Revoir Paris,” thinks about the night her life changed, her face seems to drain of all feeling, almost as if she were emptying it out. Months earlier, she survived a terrorist attack, but now she can’t remember much of what happened that evening. All she retains are vivid fragments — an image of a birthday cake ablaze with candles, the steady pounding of torrential rain — that she can’t piece together. The past may be a foreign country, but for Mia it’s one that also now lies partly in ruin.“Revoir Paris” is about grief and pain and pushing through to the next day. More centrally, it is about how trauma changes memory, sometimes shattering and distorting it. That makes it about storytelling and the stories that we tell to, and about, ourselves, which means that it’s about identity. The assault shapes Mia’s life and has come to define her: She’s now a survivor. Yet the catastrophe remains out of reach. “Maybe you’re not ready to talk,” a well-meaning friend says, not understanding that without her memories, Mia can’t yet fully tell her story.The movie opens on a day seemingly like any other, although there’s a pronounced elegiac cast to the instrumental music and the piercing violin notes. For Mia — an emotionally vivid Virginie Efira — it begins with morning coffee for her and a bowl of food for her cat. Then she’s off to her day job as a translator, winding through the streets on her Triumph motorcycle. (Yes, she is independent; yes, the make is too on point.) Later, she has dinner with her lover, Vincent (Grégoire Colin), a surgeon who’s soon called back to work. She heads home alone, but when it starts pouring, she stops in another bistro to get out of the rain.What happened next is the question — an empirical fact that the writer-director Alice Winocour skillfully turns into a taut existential mystery, one in which Mia is both the victim and the lead investigator. Part of what gives the mystery its power and feeling is that there’s a good chance you know exactly what took place: On Nov. 13, 2015, Islamic State extremists initiated a series of coordinated terrorist attacks in Paris using guns and explosives. During the assault, 130 people were killed and hundreds more were wounded in locations across the city, including at the Bataclan concert hall. In interviews, Winocour has said that her brother was among the Bataclan concertgoers; he survived.“Revoir Paris” opens the morning of the attack, but soon after the assault ends, the story jumps forward several months. It resumes with Mia in a medical office, a doctor closely examining a jagged scar on her abdomen. She has been away from Paris and staying with her mother, an interlude that Winocour skips entirely. Instead, you follow Mia as she goes about her everyday life while beginning to reconstruct the night. As the past returns — in elliptical bursts and then in lengthier passages — Mia’s splintered memories gradually form a coherent whole, making her the author of a harrowing story within a story.Winocour’s approach is by turns discreet and direct. While Mia putters in her kitchen on the morning of the attack, for instance, she drops a wine glass on her floor, breaking it, an eerie foreshadowing of the shattered glass that will carpet the bistro floor hours later. Winocour largely avoids showing that night’s visceral horrors, abstaining from gruesome spectacle in favor of shocking pinpricks: the sound of a gasping scream, an image of a shoeless foot. Using all the tools at her disposal — narrative compression, sinewy camerawork, sharp editing, an ethereal score, stricken faces — Winocour powerfully conveys the unspeakable.As it develops, “Revoir Paris” becomes perilously overplotted. Mia connects with a group of survivors, including a teenager (Nastya Golubeva), whose parents died in the attack, as well as another unlucky restaurant patron (Benoît Magimel). The three share memories and sometimes more, forming an ad hoc support group as Mia sets out to find another survivor, Assane (Amadou Mbow), a search that takes her down unpersuasive byways. Yet even as Winocour piles on too many complications, she retains an appreciable astringency — call it a sense of emotional realism about what it means to actually survive — that keeps bathos at bay. Together with the superb Efira, she earns your tears honestly.Revoir ParisNot rated. In French, with subtitles. Running time: 1 hour 45 minutes. In theaters. More

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    Oscars’ Best Picture Hopefuls Must Spend More Time in Theaters

    To be eligible for the academy’s top prize, films will need to have an initial theatrical run of a week in one of six U.S. cities, and then expand to other cities across the country.In a move designed to signal Hollywood’s commitment to the moviegoing experience, the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences said on Wednesday that it would require an expanded theatrical release for films seeking to be eligible for a best picture nomination.The new eligibility rule is sure to affect how Netflix and other streaming services release films they consider to be Oscar worthy. And it could be an impediment to smaller distributors that lack the means to release films in cities across the United States.Oscar-oriented films have struggled mightily at the box office in recent years, making some people wonder if the importance of big screens has been forever altered by the streaming era. In 2022, “CODA” from Apple TV+ was the first film from a streaming service to win the best picture Oscar.To be eligible for a best picture nomination, films are already required to have an initial qualifying run in theaters, defined as a one-week release in one of six U.S. cities (New York, Los Angeles, Chicago, Atlanta, San Francisco or Miami). Beginning in 2024, those films will also need a theatrical presence for another seven days (either consecutive or nonconsecutive) in 10 of the top 50 U.S. markets, no later than 45 days after its initial release. Two of the 10 markets in the expanded release can be outside the United States if they are among the top 15 international theatrical markets.The move, voted on by the academy’s board of governors at its most recent meeting, is a clear attempt to prevent streaming companies like Netflix, which prefer to release films on their services with as little theatrical presence as possible, from eroding the moviegoing experience.“It is our hope that this expanded theatrical footprint will increase the visibility of films worldwide and encourage audiences to experience our art form in a theatrical setting,” the academy’s chief executive, Bill Kramer, and president, Janet Yang, said in a statement. “Based on many conversations with industry partners, we feel that this evolution benefits film artists and movie lovers alike.”For films released late in the year, the distributors must submit their plans for the expanded release. Those plans must be completed no later than Jan. 24, 2025, for the 2024 films.Netflix said the eligibility requirements would not have a significant effect on its release strategy. It noted that “All Quiet on the Western Front,” which was nominated for best picture this year, was released in 35 theaters in 20 cities, including New York, Los Angeles, San Francisco and Toronto. More

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    Wes Anderson’s Secret Weapon: The Camera Moves of Sanjay Sami

    Sami brings ingenious design, a D.I.Y. spirit and pure athletic ability to the job of key grip — pushing and pulling heavy camera rigs with exacting precision.Wes Anderson’s intricate films are known for their jewel box sets, vibrant costumes and starry ensemble casts. But there’s another element that gives his movies their distinctive look and feel, and it comes in the form of a 52-year-old grip.Sanjay Sami, a native of Mumbai, India, got his start on Bollywood movies and has been working with Anderson since 2006, mostly as a dolly grip. It’s a rough job, pushing and pulling a camera mounted on a dolly — a setup weighing up to 900 pounds — along hundreds of feet of track built for a scene, and Sami has engineered, invented and refined it into an art form.On a typical movie, a dolly might move the camera left to right or back and forth. In the Wesiverse, it goes in all those directions — and sometimes up and down, too — in a single tracking shot, allowing, Anderson said, for unbroken expression. “It means the actors can stay in real time, and you can create something that really exists, in front of the camera.”Equal parts ingenious designer, D.I.Y. repair guru, rail engineer, cineaste and athlete, Sami is, according to many cast and crew members, Anderson’s secret weapon.“He can masterfully execute the most intricate camera moves I’ve ever seen,” said Adrien Brody, a frequent Anderson star, who called Sami “exacting and relentless and extremely devoted.”Last year, on “The French Dispatch,” Sami executed the most complicated shot of his career, a 70-second walk-and-talk through an unusually active police station, performed as a monologue by Jeffrey Wright, with the dolly speeding up and slowing down to keep pace with his clipped delivery.Sami moving the camera so it follows, from left, Jason Schwartzman, Jake Ryan and Tom Hanks for an “Asteroid City” shot.via Focus FeaturesThis year, Sami topped that with a scene in “Asteroid City,” Anderson’s latest, in which Brody moves through a long theater space in an exquisitely detailed choreography of sets, props, walls, actors, dialogue and camera, which “has to come off of a set of tracks and then be loaded seamlessly onto another set of tracks and hit numerous precise marks at very specific timings,” Brody noted.Another complex moment came early on in “Asteroid City,” filmed in Spain and set in an eerie, midcentury Southwestern landscape. Wright, playing a general, gives a speech to a young group of astronomers and junior scientists, as the camera moves back and forth and side to side (almost a star pattern) on a triple-layered track, setting the scene and building a sense of Wright’s character.The director Wes Anderson narrates a sequence from his film, featuring Jeffrey Wright.Focus Features“There’s a lot of responsibility, because we are the viewer’s eyes,” Sami said, in a video interview from his home in Mumbai. “We’re moving the emotion and the story, more than just moving the camera.”Anderson sends Sami scripts early on in his projects, and then the animatics — rough animations that convey the long tracking shots the filmmaker likes. “He’s the one who points out, ‘This is tricky,’” Anderson said. “He’ll express the physics of it to me.”And then Sami bends the usual laws of cinema, inventing a new rig or ordering an unheard-of amount of track, where other filmmakers might resort to green screens or other visual effects. “The thing I love is, with Sanjay, we essentially are using the same equipment that we might have used on a movie 75 years ago,” Anderson said, “but we’re arranging it in a way that it hasn’t been arranged before.”In a scene in “The French Dispatch,” for example, Owen Wilson’s character arrives riding a bicycle, and the camera tracking him has to quickly start and stop at the same rate that he does — one of Anderson’s visual signatures. “But we’re accelerating a huge amount of weight from a standstill on one grip’s power, as opposed to a light bicycle that he’s already at speed with,” Sami said. So he concocted a system involving a bungee cord anchored to a truck that could spring the camera up to the right velocity instantly.“I think what he likes about working with me is that I hate saying no to anything,” said Sami, who has also worked with Christopher Nolan. “No matter how crazy the demand is, I always want to find a solution. Maybe a crazy solution. That’s part of what makes my job really interesting.”“Sometimes the crazier the method, the happier he is,” he added of Anderson.Sami has worked on Anderson’s commercial projects and every live action film since “The Darjeeling Limited” (2007), when he impressed the filmmaker by devising a way to fit a dolly into the narrow old rail cars they used as a set: he mounted a hidden track on the train’s ceiling.To achieve Anderson’s vision, Sami must often run at full speed, weighted down with gear — a Steadicam, which he also operates, is over 60 pounds — spin around and come to an abrupt, dizzying halt. “It’s 10 or 12 hours of very, very physical work,” he said. “It’s not just endurance — you need a huge amount of strength to be able to stop and start those moves, or you’re going to hurt yourself.”So he has an exercise regimen of daily resistance training specifically for an Anderson flick. “I used to play rugby, and a lot of the rugby training crosses over,” he said.Before he got into movies, Sami was an industrial diver and underwater welder, working on oil rigs. He got his start in the film industry during a marine contractor strike, when a friend invited him onto a set. “I saw this traveling circus full of crazy people who come together briefly, make a movie. And then it’s another movie — same circus, different clowns,” he said. “I loved it.” (He also has a degree in political science — a fanciful enough background that he himself could be a Wes Anderson character: the Life Aquatic, and on the Rails, with Sanjay Sami.)Collaborating with Adam Stockhausen, Anderson’s production designer, and Robert Yeoman, the cinematographer, Sami — whose official title is key grip, the head of his department — has an unusual amount of input. “He’s sort of a producer for us,” Anderson said. “He helps us figure out how we’re going to get things done. And he’s a good manager of people. So his voice comes into the discussion in ways that have nothing to do with pushing a dolly.”Sometimes the simplest-seeming shots are also the most difficult to create. For a carousel scene in “The Grand Budapest Hotel,” using a real ride wouldn’t match Anderson’s slightly surreal concept. Instead, they built a circular track with a pie-shaped platform atop it, and more track atop that. It was capped by a skateboard-style dolly, for the carousel horse. Once it rolled into the frame and the actress Saoirse Ronan hopped on, two off-camera grips clamped it down. “And then we start pushing the whole pie-shaped wooden piece on the circular track,” Sami said. The moment lasts barely 40 seconds, but it “always stands out to me, because it was the beginning of some of the more complex things that we started doing.”Beyond the dense, staccato paragraphs and action Anderson’s scripts require of the big stars, a battalion of extras — not always trained actors; he likes to hire locals on location — must nail every tiny detail, like smoothing a mustache or blowing a smoke ring, at the exact right moment, in the right sequence, to cue each other and the camera. There are verbal, visual and motion cues, all marks to hit with strict precision. “Two inches is a mile to Wes,” Sami said. “He’ll notice if you’re off by three millimeters.” (Sami uses lasers to guide his positioning.)And they don’t just run these scenes a handful of times. “Sometimes, by the time everyone’s got their part of the choreography together, we’re on Take 25 or 27,” he said. “And when you start getting into those numbers, if the actors all get it right and you get it wrong, no one’s going to remember anything except the fact that you blew that good take.”Sami, Yeoman and Anderson on the set. “There’s a lot of responsibility, because we are the viewer’s eyes,” Sami said. “We’re moving the emotion and the story, more than just moving the camera.”via Focus FeaturesAnderson swore he didn’t intentionally challenge his grip to new heights with every project; it just happens. “But I do like to feel free to do whatever we might picture, and to know that Sanjay will find a way,” he said. On a forthcoming Netflix short, “The Wonderful Story of Henry Sugar,” based on a Roald Dahl tale, Sami literally sent the camera soaring. “He built a track going up into the sky at an angle,” Anderson said. It leans like a ladder in midair, “and the camera is on another track with a jib arm and a dolly attached to the top of the jib.”For Sami, all the sweat, effort and dizzy spells are worth it when he sees the finished product onscreen. “I’ve done more than 80 feature films, and the ones I’m most proud of are the ones that we do with Wes,” he said, “because it’s just work that, for me, from a grip point of view, doesn’t exist outside of this world.” More

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    Pink Floyd, ‘The Wizard of Oz’ and Me

    Last October, when Roger Waters brought his “This Is Not a Drill” tour through Austin, Texas, he also took the time to record a nearly three-hour appearance on “The Joe Rogan Experience” podcast. These are typically rambling affairs, guided by the host’s idiosyncratic curiosities, and about halfway through, following a riff by Waters about nuclear […] More

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    ‘Sublime’ Review: Two Boys, One in Love

    A teenager dreams of pop songs, and his best friend, in Mariano Biasin’s tender gay coming-of-age drama.In high school I had a crush on my best friend. I sat with him when he played piano in church. I was furious inside when he told me he liked a girl. When I came out to him in college he said “so what?” and I cried. Tweak some details and switch the setting from suburban America to a coastal town in Argentina and it’s also the entire plot of Mariano Biasin’s familiar but muted coming-out drama “Sublime.”Manuel (Martín Miller) is a reserved teenager with messy hair and braces who awkwardly interacts with his bickering parents, sneaks beers and plays bass in a garage band with his childhood friend Felipe (Teo Inama Chiabrando). Manuel also has recurring daydreams about waking up next to Felipe and gently touching his bare shoulder, the same way the girl who sits behind Felipe does to him in class. When Felipe asks Manuel to help him outfit their hideaway van for a (hetero) sexual tryst, Manuel’s repressed feelings finally, and tenderly, surface.An innocent gay-indie sweetness courses through this film, especially in the too-short glimpses into Manuel’s romantic cravings and in the final blissful minute, and the young cast’s naturalistic performances make it all feel lived-in and truthful. But Biasin’s script plods as it relies on repetitive band rehearsals and inert conversations to pad a story that only mildly explores young gay desire — like “Heartstopper” but with less charm and fewer stakes. I’d put the band’s power-pop songs on my Walkman, though.SublimeNot rated. In Spanish, with subtitles. Running time: 1 hour 40 minutes. Rent or buy on most major platforms. More

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    ‘Take Care of Maya’ Review: A Chronicle of a Family’s Pain

    In this Netflix documentary about a young girl who was held in a hospital and barred from seeing her family, we hear their side of the story.In 2016 in St. Petersburg, Florida, Maya Kowalski was rushed to the pediatric emergency room for extreme pain. The 10-year-old would be held in the hospital for three months under a state-issued shelter order and barred from seeing her parents, whom doctors suspected of medical child abuse.The story of the Kowalskis, which was reported in The Cut last year, is at the core of “Take Care of Maya” (on Netflix), a chronicle of the events and their aftermath. At the hospital, Maya was evaluated by a child-welfare agency pediatrician who specialized in detecting child abuse and who initially diagnosed Munchausen Syndrome by proxy. The documentary unfolds mostly from the Kowalskis’ viewpoint, relying on court testimony, Maya’s father’s recollections and video, audio and written records from Maya’s mother.To watch this film is to submit to a punishing experience. This is only partly because of its content, for, while Maya’s case involves a thorny jumble of issues — a rare pain syndrome, a controversial regimen, a dubious child welfare system — the director, Henry Roosevelt, approaches the material with an eye toward sensationalism. Every minute is charged with tension, and one senses that scenes were shaped with the intent to scandalize rather than enlighten.What’s sacrificed in this approach is rigor, the drive to exhaustively analyze the circumstances that led to the Kowalski family’s troubles. For instance, the film mentions but declines to explore the relationship between Florida’s hospitals and the privatized child welfare companies that serve them. “Take Care of Maya” is grueling, but it is also oddly deficient, wanting for the precision and perspective essential to deriving insight from profound trauma.Take Care of MayaNot rated. Running time: 1 hour 43 minutes. Watch on Netflix. More