More stories

  • in

    Rosa Barba Lights Up MoMA With Her Love of Cinema

    Rosa Barba makes artworks with film. But you wouldn’t call them movies.Sometimes she shoots them with 35-millimeter cameras and beams them onto screens. Other times, she turns celluloid and projectors into whirring sculptures, or choreographs musical performances with flickering light.“Film is kind of the key word,” Barba, 52, said recently. “But, in the end, maybe you can’t say they are films anymore: It’s a film about film, or it’s about the idea of a film.”Film might be her medium, material or subject, but there are many other ideas in Barba’s works, too — about ecology, landscape, science and the nature of knowledge. All her signature obsessions come together at the Museum of Modern Art in New York from May 3, where an installation of her work, called “The Ocean of One’s Pause,” runs through July 6 in the museum’s Kravis Studio, a space devoted to experimentation.The presentation brings together 12 works from the last 16 years, with performances on six dates throughout the run, that add up to a statement on her expanded understanding of cinemaRosa Barba’s “Composition in Field” (2022), a light box overlaid with text-printed celluloid strips, cracking as they turn on motorized reels. Strips are printed with a poem by Charles Olson.“Cinema, for me, is the moment when you start a kind of embarkation,” Barba said in an interview at her Berlin studio. It wasn’t just light, sound, or movement, she said; it was “a chemical reaction” when those elements come together and trigger or unveil something for the viewer — Holland Cotter of The New York Times once described this as an ability “to knock the pins out from under tyrant logic and clear a space where difference can thrive.”We are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More

  • in

    Watch Ben Affleck Line Dance in ‘The Accountant 2’

    The director Gavin O’ Connor narrates a sequence from the film featuring the actor and Jon Bernthal.In “Anatomy of a Scene,” we ask directors to reveal the secrets that go into making key scenes in their movies. See new episodes in the series on Fridays. You can also watch our collection of more than 150 videos on YouTube and subscribe to our YouTube channel.Ben Affleck kicks up his sneakers on the dance floor in this spirited sequence from “The Accountant 2.”Affleck’s character, Christian Wolff, an autistic C.P.A., has gone with his brother, Braxton (Jon Bernthal), to a country western bar. Using calculations, Christian quickly figures out the pattern of a line dance and joins in.Discussing the scene in an interview, the film’s director, Gavin O’ Connor, explained that the scene was meant to accomplish several things as the film moves deeper into the second act. He added, “Bill Dubuque, our writer, and I wanted to abandon the plot and just make a hard left turn and go spend time with the brothers in a social environment so we can deepen their relationship while also allowing Christian the opportunity to connect with a woman in a way he’s never done before.”This leads to a moment in which Braxton expects his brother might make a fool of himself, but things turn out differently.“It dramatizes his mathematical brain, because you watch him start to look at the footwork and it all starts to compute very quickly,” O’Connor said in the interview.He also said Affleck attended several rehearsals to get the moves right: “We had a choreographer named Jennifer Hamilton who was wonderful, and before we got to the rehearsal stage, she was presenting me with a bunch of different ideas, because there are a lot of variations on line dancing, and then we narrowed it down.”They worked out the choreography with the dancers before bringing Affleck in. “Then Ben just did his thing,” O’Connor said. “Christian didn’t have to be great. He just had to do it. So it was never important that he lit the place on fire.”Read the “Accountant 2” review.Sign up for the Movies Update newsletter and get a roundup of reviews, news, Critics’ Picks and more. More

  • in

    Doubling Up: How ‘Sinners’ and Other Movies Multiply One Actor

    This year at the movies, you’d be forgiven for thinking you are seeing double — because you are. Since March there have been three films featuring stars acting opposite themselves. “Mickey 17” has two versions (at least) of Robert Pattinson as an expendable working grunt on an alien planet in a futuristic world. Robert De Niro played two different mobsters in “The Alto Knights.” And Michael B. Jordan just made his doubles debut as swaggering twins in Ryan Coogler’s “Sinners,” a vampire movie set in 1930s Mississippi.Having the same actor appear two — or sometimes three or four or more — times onscreen is one of cinema’s most enduring tricks. And while the effect has long been a powerful bit of movie magic, the technology has evolved over the years. Here are some of the landmarks.‘The Playhouse’ (1921)An In-Camera Method to Buster Keaton’s MadnessThe use of doubling goes all the way back to the silent era in this Buster Keaton short in which the protagonist, played by the prodigious physical comedian, dreams himself as every single person in a show — from the band to the audience members. (He also appears in blackface as a minstrel, an upsetting byproduct of the era.) How did Keaton accomplish this? Through masking and double exposure. He and his cameraman Elgin Lessley would cover part of the lens, perform a beat, and then rewind, uncovering the previously masked portion to add another version of himself to the shot. The effect is a wondrous confluence of Keatons all acting at once.‘The Parent Trap’ (1961)Split-Screen High JinksWe are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More

  • in

    ‘Havoc’ Review: Tom Hardy Is Primed for a Fight

    Tom Hardy is a crooked cop looking to make amends in Gareth Evans’s action-packed film.Brimming with action archetypes — the grizzled hero, the upstart deputy, renegade police, a crooked politician and young lovers on the run — the writer-director Gareth Evans’s gritty crime movie “Havoc” makes it hard to find anyone in it who feels like a real person.The clichés commence with Walker (Tom Hardy), a sadder, more deflated John McClane type estranged from his wife and daughter at Christmastime. In the film’s opening, Walker, speaking with a low grumble similar to the one Hardy uses for playing Venom, laments his unscrupulous life. “You live in this world, you make choices,” he says. “And for a while it works. Until you make a choice that renders you worthless.”A cop-turned-fixer for the mayoral candidate Lawrence Beaumont (Forest Whitaker), Walker is called into service when Beaumont’s troubled son, Charlie (Justin Cornwell), and his girlfriend, Mia (Quelin Sepulveda), are implicated in a high-speed chase that put a cop in the hospital. They’re also tied to the murder of a high-ranking Yakuza gangster. Beaumont needs Walker to retrieve Charlie before vindictive cops like Vincent (Timothy Olyphant) or the vengeful mother (Yeo Yann Yann) of the slain hoodlum find him. In return, Beaumont will release Walker from any further debts.Following the one-last-job path, “Havoc” offers few surprises, taking nearly an hour to map its huge web of characters. In the meantime, Walker leans on paid informants and his upstart partner, Ellie (Jessie Mei Li), to provide him with witnesses, such as Mia’s resourceful uncle (a scene-stealing Luis Guzmán). The gritty rendering of this crime-riddled city, aesthetically recalling “Sin City,” but in color, provides some additional background stimulation. Still, “Havoc” is mostly shifting around characters to bide time until its gory set pieces.Because what “Havoc” lacks in characters and story, it delivers in two audacious waves of indiscriminate killing that are so bruising and relentless they make the “John Wick” movies look like “Sesame Street.” In the first blood-soaked brawl, Walker finds Mia and Charlie at a club. Unfortunately, so do Vincent and the Japanese gangsters. The four parties collide. With his background as an action choreographer, Evans, who directed the “Raid” films, can artfully craft long elaborate action while maintaining coherency. Walker swings a metal pipe, Mia (Sepulveda’s physicality is impressive) wields a cleaver and others blanket the neon-lit party space with bursts of gunfire.The film’s final skirmish, this time with Walker, Charlie and Mia holed up in a woodland cabin, is equally exhilarating. There are goons crashing through windows and coming up through the floorboards, harpoons and hooks used as weapons. Whip pans instill some moments with a crazed franticness, while slow motion in other instances gives the vicious violence an intoxicating glow. Though the characters in “Havoc” are forgettable, the carnage is gripping.HavocNot rated. Running time: 1 hour 45 minutes. Watch on Netflix. More

  • in

    Masahiro Shinoda, Leading Light of Japan’s New Wave Cinema, Dies at 94

    His films tapped into the fantasies of disgruntled youth by embracing brazen sexuality and countercultural politics. But unlike his peers, he did not shun tradition.Masahiro Shinoda, a leading director of the postwar Japanese New Wave whose films, notably “Pale Flower” and “Double Suicide,” fused pictorial beauty and fetishistic violence, died on March 25. He was 94.His production company, Hyogensha, said in a statement that the cause was pneumonia. It did not say where he died.In the 1960s and ’70s, Japanese New Wave cinema, like its French predecessor, tapped into the fantasies of disgruntled youth by embracing brazen sexuality and countercultural politics, with a tinge of nihilism. But unlike his peers, Mr. Shinoda refused to shun tradition. Instead, he used feudal-era theatrical forms like Noh, Bunraku and Kabuki to recount how cycles of violence have persisted since imperial Japan. His films were wrought with poetic imagery — hooded puppeteers, striking femmes fatales (including his wife, the actress Shima Iwashita) — but for all their sensuality, they espoused the idea that nothing really matters.“Culture is nothing but the expression of violence,” Mr. Shinoda said in an interview with Joan Mellen for her book “Voices From the Japanese Cinema” (1975), adding that “human tenderness is unthinkable without violence.”From left, Ryo Ikebe, Mariko Kaga and Takashi Fujiki in “Pale Flower” (1964), Mr. Shinoda’s best-known film.ShochikuWe are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More

  • in

    A New Requirement for Oscar Voters: They Must Actually Watch the Films

    The new rule, announced this week by the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences, was greeted with laughter and disbelief that it had not been required all along.It has not always been necessary to read the book in order to write a book report, as many a devious middle schooler familiar with CliffsNotes or A.I. can attest. And it turns out that Oscar voters have not always had to watch all the films they passed judgment on.But now the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences is trying to change that.The academy announced a new rule this week that most filmgoers could be forgiven for assuming was already in place: From now on, members of the academy will be required to actually watch all the nominated films in each category they vote in.Cue the collective side eye.“Like ‘Casablanca,’ I am shocked, shocked to discover that there are academy members who don’t watch all the movies,” said Bruce Vilanch, a comedian who has written for 25 Oscar shows, who added that the new rule was “kind of hysterical.”Skyler Higley, a comedy writer who was on Conan O’Brien’s writing team when he hosted the Oscars last month, called the new requirement “un-American.”“What we do in this country is we sort of vote based on vibes and preferences and biases,” he said. “So to suddenly require that these guys know what they’re talking about when they’re voting, it’s just not what we do in this nation.”Doug Benson, a stand-up comedian and host of the podcast “Doug Loves Movies,” said the rule was “crazy” because most voters were too busy making movies to watch them. “This sucks for academy members,” he said. “But the upside for moviegoers? Maybe award-bait movies will start clocking in at a more reasonable 88 minutes. If they implemented the rule this year, ‘The Brutalist’ would have won squat.”We are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More

  • in

    ‘Until Dawn’ Review: They Keep Dying, You’ll Keep Shrugging

    Based on a video game, this movie is done in by mediocre monsters and muddled time loops.Watching someone play a video game that they never let you play is a singular kind of boring. A similar “why am I here?” dullness arrives early and stays late in “Until Dawn,” the new supernatural slasher film based on the popular horror video game of the same name.The game, about the eerie goings-on that happen after sisters go missing from a remote mountain resort, is played in a choose-your-own-adventure style. With interactivity off the table, the film relies on a traditional slasher formula: Clover (Ella Rubin) and a group of her friends make the terrible decision to visit a remote valley’s welcome center seeking answers about the strange disappearance of Clover’s sister.Inside, a masked killer starts slaughtering the characters one by one. But here’s the “Happy Death Day”-style twist: Each night the characters’ lives, and deaths, get reset by an hourglass clock. It turns out there’s a deus ex machina madman at work in this uncanny valley, and as part of his diabolical project to learn more about the mechanics of fear, he reboots days and forces his victims to survive (they don’t) until (you guessed it) dawn.The director, David F. Sandberg (“Annabelle: Creation”) does an exhausting job moving along a script, written by Gary Dauberman and Blair Butler, that’s made slack by mediocre monsters, muddled time loop stuff and underdeveloped characters who seem straight out of a lesser “Goosebumps” episode. The spectacular and repulsively funny deaths by spontaneous combustion deserve their own, better movie.Until DawnRated R for face bashing, gut busting and exploding torso jump scares. Running time: 1 hour 43 minutes. In theaters. More