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    ‘Punch’ Review: Hitting at the Heart

    Welby Ings’s keenly observant debut feature follows a young, promising boxer whose priorities shift.Sports dramas, perhaps more than movies in most genres, have an ability to cut to the chase when dealing with themes of gender: The fraught tension between the athlete and their arena so often comes down to how well they adhere to traditional notions of their gender identity. This idea is at the forefront in “Punch,” the feature debut of the New Zealand writer-director Welby Ings, which dexterously balances familiar emotional beats and an impressive, nimble approach to form.Jim’s (Jordan Oosterhof) potential as a boxer is a promise, to himself and to his alcoholic father, Stan (Tim Roth). Jim, a high school student, could finally leave his rural life. He could become the boxing star his father never managed to be. The closer Jim gets to a local queer outcast, Whetu (Conan Hayes), though, the more his priorities shift away from being in the ring.Flowing and keenly observant of its characters and setting, “Punch” swings above its weight class. Though it is too often formulaic in its melodrama, Ings’s film is granted an unusual and compelling out-of-time feel. Its production design, by Iain Aitken, features elements both  modern and not: The training gym appears worn and aged, with paint flaking off the walls and faded pictures that look like they’re from the 1950s. But beneath one photo of the boy and his father, a caption reads “Pirau Boxing Club 2014.” Matt Henley’s cinematography gives the movie a dreamlike texture, as if the bonds between father and son, and fighter and lover, transcend time and place.PunchNot rated. Running time: 1 hour 38 minutes. In theaters and available to rent or buy on most major platforms. More

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    ‘99 Moons’ Review: On-Again, Off-Again

    Instead of an engaging erotic romance, the film delivers a dull narrative of two lovers caught in a cycle of getting together and falling apart.Good erotic films are built on an atmosphere of tension. Maybe it’s repressed desire, or a ticking clock imposed on an affair by external forces, or two people with fundamentally different identities coming together against all odds. Jan Gassmann’s “99 Moons” shoots for all three, and yet the tension hangs limply throughout its nearly two-hour running time.The Swiss film, opening in theaters Friday, stars Valentina Di Pace and Dominik Fellmann as Bigna and Frank, characters representing opposites on a spectrum of sexual agency. Bigna, a young scientist trying to advance in her profession by planning a research study in Chile, is controlling to a fault, hooking up with anonymous men in masks to fulfill an elaborate sexual fantasy that the viewer is thrown into during the opening scene. Frank, a loner, weaves his way through hazy nightclubs in search of something that Gassmann never quite articulates. The two meet up through one of Bigna’s contrived escapades, after which Frank immediately bursts into tears. Bigna is confused, and so are we.What follows is a dull, “When Harry Met Sally”-style narrative in which the protagonists pursue each other, get together, and break up over bizarre misunderstandings, before the film jumps forward in time and the cycle repeats itself. (The film’s title comes from this structure; their time apart is measured pretentiously in “moons.”) Gassmann clearly wants to explore the state of love and sexuality in the 2020s — there are more than a few passing parallels to Joachim Trier’s “The Worst Person in the World” — but he succeeds only in conveying the pathologies of two people who can’t figure out what they want from each other.99 MoonsNot rated. In German, with subtitles. Running time: 1 hour 50 minutes. In theaters. More

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    ‘Unicorn Wars’ Review: Teddy Bears in Battle

    The contrast between this animated film’s grim subject matter and its bubbly animation style is a big part of what makes it so creepy, our critic writes.In “Unicorn Wars,” a disturbing animated film by the Spanish director and comic book artist Alberto Vázquez, pastel-colored bears are locked in perpetual warfare against the supposedly diabolical unicorns that inhabit a magic forest. Two brothers drafted into service, Bluey (Jon Goirizelaia) and Tubby (Jaione Insausti), are bobble-headed teddy bears with saucer eyes and a penchant for bed-wetting, yet the vainglorious Bluey in particular proves capable of great cruelty.In other words, these Care Bears are not for children. Even some adults will have difficulty sitting through the film’s parade of exposed brains and cartoon genitals. Though, to Vázquez’s credit, the contrast between the film’s grim subject matter and its bubbly, expressive 2D animation style is a big part of what makes the film so creepy.An antiwar and anti-religion fable, “Unicorn Wars” follows Bluey and Tubby as they train for battle in the forest, where they ingest hallucination-inducing worms and eventually slaughter a young unicorn, inciting the herd into horn-goring action. The bear soldiers are nothing like the ferocious grizzlies of lore, so they’re destined to be collateral damage.Naturally, the war is a sham, justified by some dusty religious text that deems unicorns evil, a myth that the repressed Bluey latches on to with notable zeal. Flashbacks to his troubled childhood — his parents’ divorce, his mother’s death — give reason for his power-mongering and jealous ways, his malice metastasizing despite Tubby’s generous supply of brotherly affection.The film has clear touchstones: it draws from the humanism and worldbuilding of Hayao Miyazaki, particularly “Princess Mononoke” and its civilization versus nature allegory — paying tribute as well to that film’s black-sludge-covered demons and ghoulish ape clan. In the brief unicorn sequences, whose animation style leans more toward the expressionistic, there are parallels with the forsaken doe in “Bambi.” But “Unicorn Wars” is forcefully provocative, trying too hard to push buttons at the cost of more nuanced explorations of masculinity and power. For Vázquez, a pile of cartoon corpses makes enough of a point.Unicorn WarsNot rated. In Spanish, with subtitles. Running time: 1 hour 20 minutes. In theaters and available to rent or buy on most major platforms. More

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    ‘The Magic Flute’ Review: Mozart Meets C.G.I., With Help From a Tween

    A young tenor enters a world enlivened by computer graphics at a school devoted to the composer’s works in this Roland Emmerich-inspired film.The key to what this film has in store for you lies not with the name of the director (first timer Florian Sigl) nor the screenwriters (Andrew Lowery and Jason Young, whose respective filmographies elicit a reaction between “meh” and “yikes”). Rather, consider one of its producers, Roland Emmerich. The mastermind behind a variety of elaborate blockbusters with topics running the gamut from alien invasions (you may remember 1996’s “Independence Day”) to who the hell really wrote Shakespeare’s plays (you probably don’t remember 2011’s “Anonymous”), Germany’s insufficient answer to Baz Luhrmann here applies his imprimatur to a Mozart-for-tweens exercise.A young English fellow, Tim Walker (Jack Wolfe), gets shipped off to the fictional Mozart International School in Germany, the overall vibe of which is very Hogwarts for musos. Undercut by an imperious professor (F. Murray Abraham, hoping you remember “Amadeus,” or maybe not), distracted by a female schoolmate and ducking resident bullies, Tim nonetheless determines to earn the role of Prince Tamino in the school’s upcoming production of a Mozart opera. One evening that very opera’s three child spirits, doing something of a Tinkerbell bit, lead Tim to a passageway that drops him in the world of “The Magic Flute” itself. Over rugged terrain, he’s chased by a giant serpent, just like in the opera, only here it’s a CGI beast, just like in a Roland Emmerich movie. In a way it’s kind of neat. In another way it’s kind of dopey.The movie toggles between those two states throughout. But the tunes are nice, and it is novel, one could say, to hear them sung in non-operatic modes. Except in the case of the opera’s Queen of the Night, played by the acclaimed coloratura Sabine Devieilhe, who comes through with that famous high note.The Magic FluteNot rated. Running time: 2 hours 4 minutes. In theaters. More

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    ‘The Magic Flute’ Review: Mozart Meets CGI, With Help From a Tween

    A young tenor enters a CGI-enlivened world at a school devoted to the composer’s works in this Roland Emmerich- inspired film.The key to what this film has in store for you lies not with the name of the director (first timer Florian Sigl) nor the screenwriters (Andrew Lowery and Jason Young, whose respective filmographies elicit a reaction between “meh” and “yikes”). Rather, consider one of its producers, Roland Emmerich. The mastermind behind a variety of elaborate blockbusters with topics running the gamut from alien invasions (you may remember 1996’s “Independence Day”) to who the hell really wrote Shakespeare’s plays (you probably don’t remember 2011’s “Anonymous”), Germany’s insufficient answer to Baz Luhrmann here applies his imprimatur to a Mozart-for-Tweens exercise.A young English fellow, Tim Walker (Jack Wolfe), gets shipped off to the fictional Mozart International School in Germany, the overall vibe of which is very Hogwarts for musos. Undercut by an imperious professor (F. Murray Abraham, hoping you remember “Amadeus,” or maybe not), distracted by a female schoolmate and ducking resident bullies, Tim nonetheless determines to earn the role of Prince Tamino in the school’s upcoming production of a Mozart opera. One evening that very opera’s three child spirits, doing something of a Tinkerbell bit, lead Tim to a passageway that drops him in the world of “The Magic Flute” itself. Over rugged terrain, he’s chased by a giant serpent, just like in the opera, only here it’s a CGI beast, just like in a Roland Emmerich movie. In a way it’s kind of neat. In another way it’s kind of dopey.The movie toggles between those two states throughout. But the tunes are nice, and it is novel, one could say, to hear them sung in non-operatic modes. Except in the case of the opera’s Queen of the Night, played by the acclaimed coloratura Sabine Devieilhe, who comes through with that famous high note.The Magic FluteNot rated. Running time: 2 hours 4 minutes. In theaters. More

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    ‘Luther: The Fallen Sun’ Review: Psycho Filler

    A smoldering Idris Elba is no match for the preposterousness of this feature-length Netflix continuation of the popular BBC crime thriller.Movies have never quite figured out what to do with Idris Elba. Imposing, charismatic and dauntingly intelligent, Elba has so far been most memorable on television — his intense, thoughtful style feeding on the intimacy and character-building patience of episodic storytelling.Over five seasons on the BBC show “Luther” (2010-19), he played the titular London copper as a troubled, morally conflicted genius with an aversion to rules and an ongoing infatuation with a slinky psychopath (brilliantly played by Ruth Wilson). All wounded eyes and wool overcoat, Luther lumbered wearily from one grisly crime scene to another, losing loved ones and nabbing a series of increasingly implausible adversaries. Throughout, the character was a magnetic constant; the show’s problem was always finding villains worthy of him.And that’s exactly where “Luther: The Fallen Sun” (directed by Jamie Payne and written by the show’s creator and sole writer, Neil Cross) trips, falls and never recovers. The inexplicable choice of a smirking Andy Serkis as the murderous David Robey, a cyber-sicko with limitless resources and incalculable mental issues, elicits more chuckles than chills. Decked out at one point in a velvet blazer and turtleneck, hair teased into the likeness of a dead stoat, Robey is less demented sadist than disco king. The scene where the diminutive devil — hopping and hooded like the killer in “Don’t Look Now” (1973) — fights the towering Luther on a subway platform is nothing less than ludicrous.Body-mass differential aside, Luther and Robey are further hindered by a plot so dashed-off and indistinct that very little makes sense. Picking up generally where season five ended, with Luther heading to prison for his persistent vigilantism, this feature-length revival (streaming on Netflix) locks him up and gets him out with mystifying, head-spinning ease. Robey, seemingly assisted by a shadowy pod of followers, is busily hacking webcams and smart devices, recording shameful secrets and blackmailing their owners. For those who prefer to die rather than be exposed, Robey stages elaborate kill scenes, live-action tableaus that unfold with a pulpy majesty. In a movie that starts at fever pitch and rarely relents, these grisly interludes, captured by Larry Smith’s glowering camera, offer strangely haunting respites from the plot’s general chaos.Lacking dialogue to deepen the characters or reinforce their motivations, “Luther: The Fallen Sun” whooshes past in a rush of serial-killer clichés: an underground lair, a torture room, a masked maniac. Anonymous losers sit glued to computer screens, but the movie is so headlong and fragmented it’s unclear exactly what they’re watching or how Robey’s sleazy schemes are realized. It’s as if Netflix has tried to shoehorn an entire season of television into a little over two hours.The result might be more richly cinematic, but it’s infinitely cruder, with characters so underwritten that their possible demise excites no more than a shrug. Brief sightings of the wonderful Dermot Crowley, who returns as Luther’s melancholic superintendent, have a steadying effect, as does Cynthia Erivo as Luther’s fed-up superior. But it’s Elba himself, huddled miserably inside that overcoat in a rain-soaked Piccadilly Circus, that elicits a nostalgic thrill. Call me a pushover for tormented heroes and soulful tailoring.Luther: The Fallen SunRated R for flaming bodies, forced suicides and frightful hair. Running time: 2 hours 9 minutes. Watch on Netflix. More

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    ‘Champions’ Review: Following the Playbook

    This film directed by Bobby Farrelly has elements that recall “Kingpin” and “There’s Something About Mary.” But the ratio of tastelessness to sentimentality has been reversed.As “Dumb and Dumber” (1994) nears its 30th anniversary, its directors, Peter and Bobby Farrelly, have settled into what might regrettably be called a “mature phase.”The sibling filmmakers, once the go-to guys for raunchy-sweet comedy in Hollywood, have been making movies separately of late. Peter Farrelly directed “Green Book” (2018), whose best picture Oscar ensured that it will live forever as an exemplar of the academy’s retrogressive taste. Now Bobby Farrelly has turned out his first solo feature, “Champions,” in which an ill-tempered basketball coach is court-ordered to supervise a team of intellectually disabled athletes.It sounds, in outline, like material the Farrellys would have once treated with blithe irreverence. In “There’s Something About Mary” (1998), Matt Dillon’s character tried to impress Cameron Diaz’s by lying about exactly that kind of community service. And it stars Woody Harrelson, of the brothers’ “Kingpin” (1996). But this time, the ratio of tastelessness to sentimentality has been reversed.The Projectionist Chronicles the Awards SeasonThe Oscars aren’t until March, but the campaigns have begun. Kyle Buchanan is covering the films, personalities and events along the way.The Tom Cruise Factor: Stars were starstruck when the “Top Gun: Maverick” headliner showed up at the Oscar nominees luncheon.An Andrea Riseborough FAQ: Confused about the brouhaha surrounding the best actress nominee? We explain why her nod was controversial.Sundance and the Oscars: Which films from the festival could follow “CODA” to the 2024 Academy Awards.A Supporting-Actress Underdog: In “Everything Everywhere All at Once,” don’t discount the pivotal presence of Stephanie Hsu.Harrelson plays Marcus, an assistant basketball coach in Des Moines. Marcus’s problem, as the head coach he’s worked for (Ernie Hudson) explains, is that he never gets to know his players as people. (“Are we living in ‘Hoosiers’ now?” Marcus asks him, in a lame acknowledgment of the kinds of clichés the movie knows it’s repeating.)The protagonist’s drunken collision with a parked police car lands him in hot water with a judge (Alex Castillo) nicknamed Hanging Mary, who will let him avoid prison if he coaches the Friends, a Special Olympics team at a recreation center. Marcus initially thumbs his nose at the players, who all have trademark habits. Never showering. Always shooting backward from half-court. Knowing exactly what time a flight from Portland to Chicago should be flying overhead.But while the Farrellys of three decades ago gleefully cut against the grain of political correctness, Bobby this time seems to have embraced it, making a celebration of sensitivity and empowerment that is kindhearted without ever risking touching a comic third rail. The dispiriting experience of watching “Champions” is slowly realizing that, notwithstanding an off-color line here or there (a player with Down syndrome introduces himself as “your homie with an extra chromie”), it’s exactly the sort of formulaic crowd-pleaser that just about anybody might have directed.In fact, someone has: This is a remake of “Campeones,” a generally dire 2018 movie from Spain that won the top prize at the country’s Goya Awards but went unreleased theatrically here. The new screenplay, by Mark Rizzo, sticks closely to the original, though most of the changes (amping up the Marcus character’s mercenary careerism, revising a subplot about his love life) are improvements. The new version is certainly better-made and doesn’t gawk as cruelly at the Friends.The best case for “Champions” is made by the actors who play them, especially Madison Tevlin as the brassy Cosentino, the team’s sole female player, and Kevin Iannucci as Johnny, the shower resister. Conveniently, Johnny turns out to be the brother of an actress (Kaitlin Olson) whom Harrelson, before getting his assignment, had previously hooked up with on Tinder.If the romance thread gets the job done, Farrelly can’t do much with the sports movie tropes. Endless montages and near-random, what-decade-is-this? song choices (“Hey Ya!,” “Unbelievable”) chart the team’s progress. Marcus delivers a big-game locker room speech in which he tells the players that, win or lose, they are already champions, because of what they put up with every day. Depressingly, it’s not a joke.ChampionsRated PG-13. Drunken driving, sexual innuendo. Running time: 2 hours 3 minutes. In theaters. More

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    Cautionary Climate Tales That Give People Pause When They Press Play

    The India-born director Joshua Ashish Dawson builds digital worlds that ruminate on the future shock of environmental destruction in the real world.This article is part of our Design special section on how the recent push for diversity is changing the way the world looks.A young woman is distressed. She seems unwell. Her body was “never designed to cope with the extremes of a shifting climate,” a soothing voice informs us. As a dreamy soundtrack plays in the background, she arrives at “Spa Sybarite,” where futuristic stone treatment pods hover on stilts above a desert landscape.“Spa Sybarite” is a three-minute film by Joshua Ashish Dawson, a 32-year-old Angeleno who describes himself as a “world builder” and much of his work as “speculative climate futures.” Trained as an architect, he uses digital design tools and the language of cinema to create environments and scenarios that, he said, “ask viewers to question their assumptions about the world they live in.”At “Spa Sybarite,” the voice-over goes on, guests are offered “an assortment of scientifically tested customized treatments to help your body condition itself to the environmental despair that faces our planet.” Soaking in an outdoor tub rinses skin “of the deposits of wildfire ash,” and healthy meals are “customized to your prior nutritional accessibility.” There is also “solastalgia therapy,” where digital visualization artists create an immersive 3-D simulation of your wildfire-destroyed home for you to visit.A character in “Spa Sybarite” rinses in a tub that’s meant to cleanse her of wildfire ash. Both hyper-realistic and satirical, this film probes how people might shift their wellness rituals to cope with extreme climate change.Joshua DawsonThe conceit for “Spa Sybarite” is both slightly absurd and eminently believable. Elements almost feel like satire, something Mr. Dawson plays with, but his ultimate aim is for a kind of “hyper-realism,” he said of the film, noting that the idea of a climate spa is not very far from reality. “Wellness is a multi-trillion-dollar industry,” he said, “and it’s only a matter of time before someone takes the obvious opportunity to market wellness as the solution to climate-based illness, the biggest global health threat of our time.”Having grown up in Bangalore, India, he is sensitive to how climate change disproportionally affects low-income communities and communities of color. His invention of a white, presumably wealthy protagonist in “Spa Sybarite” raises the question of who has access to wellness, not to mention basic heath care. He sees the luxury spa as a product of disaster capitalism, “where these infrastructures of care are used to make a profit off of a crisis.”Mr. Dawson has made three other films, ranging from four to seven minutes, with related themes: In “Cáustico,” it is the politics of water privatization; in “Loa’s Promise,” the ecological and human impacts of unregulated resource extraction; and in “Denervation,” the threats posed by counterfeiting in an unscrupulous pharmaceutical industry. Concern with the environment and health underlie everything.He traces his career path to his childhood in India in the 1990s, when two of his loves were Lego and movies. His father is an English-speaking Protestant Christian who works as an interior designer, and his mother is a Hindu civil engineer whose first language is Marathi. The family spoke English at home, and both Mr. Dawson and his sister attended convent schools that had been established by the British.“The influx of Hollywood at that point in time in Bangalore really was something that we grabbed onto and were excited about,” he recounted. Even today, he said, movies are a big part of how his family connects.“I never had a road map set by someone who looked like me,” said Mr. Dawson. Here, he sits inside the Bradbury Building in Los Angeles where he plans to shoot his next project: a feature film.Tanveer Badal for The New York TimesHe went on to study at the RV College of Architecture in Bangalore, where he received a bachelor’s degree in architecture. While in school, he interned for several months in the Ahmedabad office of Balkrishna Vithaldas Doshi, India’s first Pritzker Prize-winning architect.Doshi, who died in January, worked with Le Corbusier and Louis Kahn, two influential figures in modern architecture, and he was known for adapting the International Style to a community-minded modernist approach and regional focus that reflected India’s culture and climate.The Projectionist Chronicles the Awards SeasonThe Oscars aren’t until March, but the campaigns have begun. Kyle Buchanan is covering the films, personalities and events along the way.The Tom Cruise Factor: Stars were starstruck when the “Top Gun: Maverick” headliner showed up at the Oscar nominees luncheon.An Andrea Riseborough FAQ: Confused about the brouhaha surrounding the best actress nominee? We explain why her nod was controversial.Sundance and the Oscars: Which films from the festival could follow “CODA” to the 2024 Academy Awards.A Supporting-Actress Underdog: In “Everything Everywhere All at Once,” don’t discount the pivotal presence of Stephanie Hsu.“I learned a lot from him in terms of how he used mythmaking and storytelling very much in his design process,” Mr. Dawson said. “And it was the start of something that was sort of going off in my head.”After graduating from architecture school, he received his license to practice in India. But he lacked experience with digital tools used for design and fabrication. That led him to enroll in the master’s program in advanced architectural studies at the University of Southern California, where he met another key mentor, Alex McDowell.Mr. McDowell is a Hollywood film production designer with credits on “Fight Club,” “Minority Report” and “Man of Steel,” among others. His studio, Experimental Design, creates future-gazing story worlds for corporate clients, educational institutions and cultural organizations. He is also on the faculty of the USC School of Cinematic Arts and is the director of the school’s World Building Media Lab, where students collaborate on immersive storytelling.“What’s exciting is when students come in from completely different disciplines with this very open-minded approach to storytelling,” Mr. McDowell said. “And Joshua was one of relatively few who really pushed against the edges of his discipline. He came into class as an architect, very open and excited, I think, by the idea of entertainment media. He came in ready to break down the walls.”Mr. Dawson’s graduation project was his first short, “Cáustico.” Set in the year 2036, in a computer-generated city of anonymous steel-and-glass structures, the film envisions a future where dwindling fresh water supplies are controlled by a fictional company called Turquoise, whose depletion of underground aquifers causes massive sinkholes, while some of the most privileged citizens start moving into a subterranean lower city to be closer to the water. For the audio, Mr. Dawson used snippets of actual news reports on climate and water issues from 2014 and 2015, reminding us that such a future might not be so far away.In “Cáustico,” Mr. Dawson conceptualizes the politics of water privatization. Eventually, he’d like to create real-world spaces but for now is focused on continuing to explore experimental, design-based projects.Joshua DawsonSince then, he has turned out films at a measured pace while working day jobs. He spent four and a half years as a designer at Price Architects and HKS (the two firms merged in 2019), and for the past two years, he has been a narrative visualization specialist at IBI Group, producing dynamic 3-D models that help planners study the impact potential infrastructure and development projects will have on future urban environments.Mr. Dawson said he eventually wants to create real-world spaces. For now, he remains focused on the films he thinks of as a critical design practice, taking inspiration from ’60s and ’70s radical architecture collectives like Superstudio and Archigram, which rejected building in favor of exploring experimental concepts in films, artworks and manifestoes that challenged the status quo.Funded with grants and his own savings, each short film has involved a handful of partners. Some he has known since his days at USC, like Ashton Rae, a cinematographer, who described Mr. Dawson as “an incredibly collaborative director” with “a clear and punctuated vision.” She noted that in addition to making films “about real-world issues that affect marginalized individuals,” Mr. Dawson prioritizes having a diverse crew on set and for postproduction work.Mr. Dawson said his own identity as an immigrant of color is an asset in his work, giving him “a different perspective on issues that locals can’t see or see in biased ways.” As a Christian and the product of an interfaith marriage in India, he described himself as a micro-minority who “always felt like an outsider.”Familiar with the religious, gender and caste-based discrimination that is widespread in India, he is still learning about racism in the U.S., where he said immigrants are often expected to feel grateful just for being here. Based on his name, people often assume he is white before they meet him, which can cut both ways.“Since the killing of George Floyd, there definitely has been an increase in the kind of space making for people of color to be given a place at the table,” he said. “But it can be a little bit like a quota, like tokenism, with one spot or two spots that all the marginalized groups of people within their discipline have to compete for.”His hope is to see more people like him doing the kind of work he loves. “I never had a road map set by someone who looked like me, who paved this sort of interdisciplinary path like the one I’m trying to forge,” he said.A conceptual image of Mr. Dawson’s upcoming project where he reimagines the Bradbury Building as an ancient Indian stepwell. He plans for it to serve as a backdrop for a full-length murder-mystery movie.Joshua DawsonHis next project is a feature film that will incorporate cultural references tied to his identity as an India-born designer. It started as a visual thought experiment, a reimagining of the historic Bradbury Building in Los Angeles — specifically its soaring interior court with a glass ceiling and ornate Victorian ironwork — as an ancient Indian stepwell. The fictional hybrid structure will serve as a setting for a story about an Indian American detective who threads through its spaces as she investigates a murder.While Mr. Dawson was working on the screenplay this winter, drought-stricken Los Angeles was being battered by heavy storms, with most of the rainfall washing into the ocean because of insufficient drainage and catchment infrastructure. His project is a provocation to city planners to look to India’s stepwells — subterranean structures that are admired as aesthetic as well as engineering marvels, which for centuries provided reserves of clean water for drinking and bathing — for creative inspiration, if not literal solutions.“The past can teach us a lot, not just in terms of how water histories are written but also how water is controlled by the state,” Mr. Dawson said.He attributed his decision to weave his cultural background into his work to finding his voice as a designer and storyteller, but he added that it probably also has something to do with an increased openness to diverse cultural narratives.“Personally,” he said, “I like to roll with this idea that it’s a beautiful synchronization between the two.” More