La chimera (2023): Alice Rohrwacher completes her trilogy on Italian people(s) with this slow, but beautiful movie set in the 1980s. A British archeologist joins small town criminals who uncover and rob graves with Etruscan memorabilia, an apt metaphor for the difficulty of reconciling the past with the present. With Josh O’Connor in the lead, waxing lyrically in Italian as well, we have the foreigner’s perspective as well as part of the Italian perspective on foreigners, two sides of a rusty coin that’s seen a lot of wear. The movie is atypical in structure and narrative, it contains worlds, as one would say, both grand and intimate. It’s really a cinephile’s movie, lush with pretentious fringes, imaginative, anti-establishment, and, fundamentally, romantic. 8
Sing Street (2016): It sure feels like Sing Street has become one of those movies that I rewatch whenever I get the chance to do so. I’ve listened to the songs many, many times over, the 80s vibes striking the usual chords of my heart (cringe). The honest naiveté of John Carney and Simon Carmodey’s characters always gets to me, with the brotherly relationship taking center stage on this viewing. “For brothers everywhere” is the movie’s closing title before the end credits roll and it couldn’t be more appropriate – Conor and Raphina’s love story is endearing, but it’s Brendan who steals the show every time he’s on screen, a beautifully wrapped character of frustrated enthusiasm for life and the world. 8
Civil War (2024): It’s rare to watch a movie that just feels different to what you’re used to. Alex Garland’s Civil War has enough familiarity to be easy to jump into, but it finds authenticity in its execution. Following a group of journalists during a completely hypothetical American civil war, it brought to mind many a zombie road trip movie (“we need to get to the coast, where the army has built a safe haven”), with a group of ragtag characters that fits the bill very well. A distinguished cast, led by Kirsten Dunst and Wagner Moura, makes identifying with these characters easy, even if their individual fates feel sealed from when they first make it on screen. The set-pieces share in the same apocalyptic style, with cheery camaraderie, unsettling calm, luminous vistas and gruesome disembowelments alternating, among which some highly memorable moments are included (Jesse Plemons steals the show). The finale is particularly eerie, almost like a video-game, visceral and satisfying – and hopefully very far from any reality we are ever going to encounter. 8
Yannick (2023): In what is probably Quentin Dupieux’s most straightforward movie, a disgruntled theater goer takes matters into his own hands and decides to write his own auteur play for the actors to perform. It’s a simple concept and story, which latches onto an easily identifiable feeling of malcontent that we rarely express openly. There is no pretention though on the big questions of what art is, where subjectivity starts and ends, what enriches our lives and what doesn’t, even as they are floated around. In its rawness and small twists and turns, Yannick proves an exciting and invigorating hourlong adventure, made even more universal to me out of my own ignorance – not knowing any of the performers. 8
Die Hard 2 (1990): If you can believe such a thing, I had never seen Die Hard 2 (nor 3), so what better way to spend a Friday evening than check out what I’ve missed on the John McClane front. With Renny Harlin directing instead of John McTiernan, the movie is still fun to watch and spectacular in its showpieces, aided by a strong cast of accomplished actors. I found it walks the line between action and humor quite well, even if some elements take some bearing with, with the plot asking a lot of the viewer as far as suspension of disbelief goes. But that’s what one does on a Friday evening, suspend their disbelief at watching Die Hard 2 for the first time in 2024. 7
tributary stu 