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  • Decision to Leave Insightful Movie Reviews | Cup of Tea Critiques

    < Back Decision to Leave turns romance tropes on their heads Moho Film, 2022 139 minutes Director/Writer: Park Chan-wook / Park Chan-wook and Chung Seo-kyung Reading Time: 4 minutes Decision to Leave Haunted Romance (9OGOZYCCB7PWGYD3) 00:00 / 05:02 📷 : Used with permission, CMB Graphic Design https://www.instagram.com/cmbgraphicdesign/ https://www.facebook.com/cmbgraphicdesign/ https://www.cmbgraphicdesign.com/ Matcha Mysteries or whodunnits Saffron Movies and TV shows with great visual effects Chris Chaisson 2022-12-13 Stories of romance, regardless of book, movie or series, often tug at the heart strings with melodramatic actions that are not actually relatable (and in some cases, ill-advised). While audience members may have experienced passionate flings, they likely have never hung from a Ferris wheel or laid down in the middle of the road to win someone’s heart (see The Notebook ). Grand romantic gestures like these appear and reappear in movies for a reason; they work when it comes to engaging the audience. Watching lovers be rational is considerably more boring than seeing them run back on to a sinking ship, draw each other naked or hold up a blaring boombox outside their bedroom windows. Nonetheless, it can be refreshing to experience a romantic narrative that steers clear of such over-the-top, unhinged expression. Despite incorporating surreal elements and a shocking conclusion, Park Chan-wook ( Oldboy ) pulls off such a feat in his newest work, Decision to Leave . Set in metropolitan South Korea, Decision to Leave tells a story of forbidden love surrounding Jang Hae-joon (Park Hae-il), an accomplished investigator assigned to solve the murder of a rock climber. The chief suspect is the victim’s widow, Song Seo-rae (Tang Wei), a caretaker who emigrated from China. Despite his marriage and Song’s seemingly obvious guilt in the murder, Jang becomes deeply infatuated with her. His conflict of interest heightens as the evidence against her continues to mount, negatively affecting his decision-making. Jang’s brilliance and professionalism as a detective is laid bare in the early stages of the film, highlighting how much his desire for Song compromises his integrity. He picks up numerous clues from the crime scene at the beginning and excels at handling adjacent cases. Not only does he chase down and apprehend a suspect from another case, he effectively cross-examines the man at the police station. However, as the plot progresses with his main case, he overlooks damning evidence, both concrete and circumstantial, pointing at Song’s culpability. His dishonesty to his wife surrounding the chief suspect adds to his list of bad decisions, as he eventually struggles to keep up with his own lies. Park Chan-wook, who won Best Director at Cannes Film Festival for this romantic thriller, makes many interesting stylistic choices throughout the movie. For instance, he depicts Jang as being in close proximity with Song several times when he is either on the phone with her or staking her out from a distance. Chan-wook also incorporates a language barrier between the two leads into the story, which they must overcome in order to have a stronger connection. When he first interrogates her, Jang and Song must use a translator app, as Song’s Korean is not the strongest. This barrier evolves into Jang trying desperately to learn her native tongue. Whereas most romantic stories involve a night of passion or montage of tactile experiences, our two leads in Decision to Leave have no physical relationship for much of the movie, placing all the emphasis on their emotions. Chan-wook does a superb job of using the supporting characters to intensify the romance between Jang and Song. Jang’s partner, Soo-wan (Go Kyung-Pyo) serves as the comedic relief by cracking jokes and struggling with the physical duties of law enforcement. During several scenes, Jang either carries Soo-wan along or leaves him behind when pursuing suspects and evidence. Jang’s wife, Jeong-ahn (Lee Jung-hyun) has a demanding career of her own and thus rarely spends time with Jang. She speaks very practically to him about their relationship, quoting statistics about behaviors they should adapt in order to live longer and healthier. The absence of romance between them, coupled with the comedic presence of Soo-wan, contrast sharply with the deep longing between Jang and Song. Billed as a romantic thriller, Decision to Leave delivers much more on the side of romance than thriller. Even in doing so, creative story and shot choices convey intimacy without absurdity. Rather than engaging in exaggerated gags that convey obsession instead of love, Jang’s desire comes through in very relatable ways, mainly poor decision-making. While this is not to talk down the more theatrical approach to romantic storytelling, Decision to Leave may provide you a breath of fresh air from the many Romeo and Juliet -styled yarns that line our DVD library shelves. Previous Next Sign-up for new reviews, exclusives, deep dives, and more First name Last name Enter your email here I agree to the terms & conditions Sign-up Thanks for joining us!

  • Leave the World Behind Insightful Movie Reviews | Cup of Tea Critiques

    < Back Leave the World Behind presents a cyber spin on apocalyptic thrillers Higher Ground Productions, 2023 138 minutes Director/Writer: Sam Esmail Reading Time: 5 minutes Leave the World Behind Feast (ADEILSFMW1RLGPNT) 00:00 / 05:42 📷 : Used with permission, Netflix Ginseng: Suspenseful and intense thrillers Saffron Movies and TV shows with great visual effects Chris Chaisson 2023-12-12 Apocalyptic movies are in no short supply. Whether it’s zombies, climate change, or biblical events, stories about the end of civilization have flooded the box office for the last two decades. They may come off cliché now as a premise, but they present their characters with reliable conflicts and the consistent theme of trust. Do you trust the news? Do you trust strangers? Do you trust your own family? Similar to movies of past decades that take place in the wilderness (i.e. Deliverance , The Grey , The Edge ), apocalyptic movies put on display the morality and psychology of its central characters, faced with what may be a “them or me” ultimatum. Netflix’s new thriller Leave the World Behind provides the latest twist on this trendy sub-genre. Due to her growing disdain for people, Amanda (Julia Roberts) rents a vacation house on a whim as a leisurely escape for her husband Clay (Ethan Hawke) and children. Soon after they arrive, they experience trouble with all of their electronic devices before George (Mahershala Ali) and his daughter, Ruth, (Myha'la, Industry ), arrive at their front door. They claim to be the owners of the house, with whom Amanda merely emailed, and explain that they were on their way back to New York City before their phones stopped working. After asking to stay in the basement with the offer of a refund, George and Ruth allow Amanda and Clay some time alone to discuss it. Once they accept, the four must get to the bottom of what appears to be a cyber-attack after strange occurrences continue happening around them, including a pileup of self-driving Teslas that blocks the highway and planes falling from the sky. What first seemed to be an innocuous prank at a local level may in fact be a more severe, intense and coordinated takedown. But is everyone who they say they are and even if so, are they divulging everything they know? Leave the World Behind provides its audience with consistent conflict between its main characters. Clay’s trusting, laid back attitude clashes several times with Amanda’s confrontational and skeptical personality, weathered from years in the advertising business. Similarly, Ruth develops a strong disdain for Amanda, feeling put off by Amanda’s distrust and the entire notion that they have to ask to stay in their own home. Her resentment towards Amanda bleeds into her interactions with George, who she feels is being too weak and accommodating. These conflicts seep into the majority of their exchanges, along with the unspoken (for a while anyway) racial undertones. As if the clash of personalities was not enough on its own, none of them know when their Internet will be restored or what the nature of the problem is, and George and Ruth have no way of contacting Ruth’s mother to find out if she is safe. The camerawork and direction for Sam Esmail’s thriller is highly stylized, including several overhead shots, tracking shots, Dutch angles, zooms, tilts and pans. Every camera movement conveys the uneasiness that the main characters feel, having no knowledge of what is happening in the outside world or whether they can even rely on each other. The accompanying string-heavy score uses familiar staccato notes while cross-cutting between strange simultaneous events the characters are witnessing, engulfing the audience in the overall ominous mood. The characters’ collective helplessness highlights how reliant modern society has become on fairly recent technology. For instance, Amanda wakes up to news alerts on the lock screen of her phone, suggesting that hackers are behind the cyber-attack. When she shows it to Clay, the messages have disappeared. Similarly, George can only send texts to his wife’s phone that never get delivered. Upon leaving the house, Clay encounters a panicked woman speaking Spanish, and since he cannot understand her, doesn’t heed any of her warnings. Their only outside source of help or information becomes Danny, an acquaintance of George’s who lives more or less off the grid and is used to existing independently of such technology. Leave the World Behind does suffer somewhat of an identity crisis, leaving it paced in a confusing manner. It waffles between the human element of characters butting heads before learning to understand each other and graphics-heavy scenes involving large machinery crashing, or wildlife gathering in a menacing fashion. The back-and-forth of these scenes leave the audience with a lot of ideas and entertaining set pieces, but no closer to the truth and ultimate resolution of the story. Rather than piece-by-piece revelations, it serves as a mystery where all the information is jam-packed into the climax. Though the movie holds the audience’s attention for its well over two-hour running time, the story leaves them in the dark for almost its entirety. Nonetheless, the film, executive produced by Barack and Michelle Obama, provides a star-studded cast and enough entertainment to make you feel on edge throughout. The most common and direct comparison thrown out to Netflix’s new release would be M. Night Shyamalan’s earlier 2023 film, Knock at the Cabin . While not having the same long-tenured A-listers, Knock at the Cabin raises the same questions of trust among its main characters and the similar feeling of being trapped with no sense of clarity. Also, both movies have a plane falling out of the sky, always a comforting sight during holiday season. Previous Next Sign-up for new reviews, exclusives, deep dives, and more First name Last name Enter your email here I agree to the terms & conditions Sign-up Thanks for joining us!

  • A Good Day Will Come

    A Good Day Will Come sheds light on a real-life tragedy < Back A Good Day Will Come sheds light on a real-life tragedy Zargara Productions, 2024 25 minutes Director/Writer: Amir Zargara Reading Time: 4 minutes 📷 : Used with permission, Amir Zargara A Good Day Will Come Just A Dream 00:00 / 04:24 Dandelion Movies/shows with heavy subjects Honeybush Nonfamily dramas with strong adult and/or socioeconomic themes Chris Chaisson 2024-10-19 If you follow sports even in the slightest, you are probably aware of the times that they have notoriously intersected with politics. From a historical standpoint, incidents like John Carlos and Tommie Smith raising their fists on the Olympic podium or Muhammad Ali refusing to fight in the Vietnam War stand out. More recently, we’ve seen Colin Kaepernick and numerous others protest against police violence. A less well-known example is decorated WNBA player Maya Moore abruptly retiring to focus on reform in the justice system. The most common pushback is to point out the privilege of famous athletes and suggest that they stick to what they know best. One political commentator famously told LeBron James to “shut up and dribble.” Though reductive and dismissive, the statement does highlight the quandary that gifted public figures find themselves in. Do they put everything they’ve worked for their entire life on the line for a just cause? Or do they decide that activism is best left to others? Inspired by the true story of Navid Afkari, A Good Day Will Come examines this quandary in the setting of an even more tumultuous political climate. Sia Alipour plays Arash, a talented wrestler with hopes of competing in the Olympics. However, in his home country of Iran, turbulent protests against the human rights violations by the current regime persist. While his wrestling coach initially dissuades him from getting involved or speaking on the matter, the issue becomes more personal for Arash in the blink of an eye. After brief comments to the press and the donning of a T-shirt, he decides to put his own safety on the line and attend a protest. Seeing the tide turning towards potential violence, he must decide whether to hang back or step to the forefront and use his celebrity to save lives. A Good Day Will Come brings us a very heavy re-telling of a recent tragedy, but it also shows us what change and activism looks like through a character arc. Arash is not just soft-spoken on the current political issues; he is generally very bashful for the first half of the short film. His skill for wrestling stands out immediately through the depiction of his matches, but he does not initially come off as brash as Muhammad Ali or as open as Arthur Ashe. Rather, he is tunnel-visioned and keeps his head low, looking to his coach for guidance. As the short progresses, he speaks more, initiates more and makes decisions without looking for someone else’s instructions. Short film protagonists may not always display the character arc that Arash does, but being forced into such precarious positions causes one to either change very quickly or pass the buck. The short film also shows the initial pushback to Arash’s decision to get involved. At one point, a group of agitators at a protest try to shoo him away when he discourages their behavior. They say, “All you’ve done is wear a T-shirt!” Their words echo the frustration of many activists at what they perceive to be performative measures. Often, public figures gain praise for what are symbolic gestures that do not necessarily contribute to a cause in any practical way. This allows them to gain adoration without any sacrifice. The exchange forces Arash to go a step further and put his safety even more on the line. Driven people with sky-high personal goals do not tend to put their own happiness aside quickly. It is often a gradual process as they learn the severity of many social issues. The timeline can often shrink significantly when they are personally affected. Nonetheless, it is a lot to ask of anyone to halt the pursuit of the one thing they’ve aspired to be all their life. What differentiates “real” activism from performative shtick? The answer is very subjective. A Good Day Will Come may make you reflect on your own perspective. Previous Next Sign-up for new reviews, exclusives, deep dives, and more First name Last name Enter your email here I agree to the terms & conditions Sign-up Thanks for joining us!

  • On the Count of Three Insightful Movie Reviews | Cup of Tea Critiques

    < Back On the Count of Three see-saws between ephemeral highs and sobering lows Front Porch Pictures, 2021 86 minutes Director/Writer: Jerrod Carmichael / Ari Katcher and Ryan Welch Reading Time: 5 minutes On the Count of Three Be Like Water (PHTK8B5CD5KPCATX) 00:00 / 05:04 📷 : Used with permission, Izzy Aghahowa https://izzyaghahowa.co.uk/ Dandelion: Movies and TV shows with heavy subjects Chris Chaisson 2023-01-23 Every now and then, you come across a feel-good movie that leaves you positive and optimistic. You leave the theater (or your couch) and you cannot stop smiling as you recall the joyous moments the characters on screen just experienced. You may even find yourself wishing that your life was like that movie and strive to make it so. On the Count of Three is not one of those movies. Actor/comedian Jerrod Carmichael’s directorial debut centers around Val (Carmichael, Neighbors ) and Kevin (Christopher Abbott, Whiskey Tango Foxtrot ), two best friends in their early adulthoods who have lost the will to live. Kevin begins the film in a psychiatric ward after a failed suicide attempt, while Val works at a factory where he despises his co-workers. When quitting time hits, Val heads over to the mental hospital for a visit and breaks Kevin out. He suggests to Kevin that they form a suicide pact, and they decide to live out their last day together, tying up any loose ends they have left. The film’s grim premise leads you to believe that despite its comedy-leaning co-stars, it has no humor. Quite the reverse, On the Count of Three oscillates between hilarity and melodrama like a bedroom tower fan. One moment, Val and Kevin engage in a petty argument that you might hear in a high school slacker movie. The next, they find themselves in a dangerous confrontation of their own doing. For instance, not long after they nearly shoot each other early in the movie, they head to the gun range despite Kevin’s anti-gun stance. Kevin feels an adrenaline rush shooting a gun for the first time, but as he retrieves the target, we see that not one of the dozen shots he let off even connected with the giant piece of paper. While we sometimes see buddy comedies gradually get darker in tone, like The Banshees of Inisherin , many of those films stay heading in one direction or the other. On the Count of Three ’s teeter-totter act may strike the audience as unusual, but it ultimately holds together, largely due to its underlying theme (and maybe the short running time). No matter what happens in any given scene, the undertone of the two friends planning to take each other’s lives rests in the back of the audience’s minds as a sobering thought. This reality keeps the film from ever reaching wacky, slapstick status where we lose all concern for the well-being of the protagonists. On the Count of Three proves, like many other buddy comedies, that best friends do not necessarily look, talk, act or even think alike. Val and Kevin’s differences come out not only in the midst of conflict with others but also their seemingly aimless conversations as they drive around. Val hates Kevin’s taste in music and overall verbosity. For much of the movie, he acts as the devil on Kevin’s shoulder, pressuring him even in flippant comments to act on his angry impulses. As with many who play this role to their friends, Val seems surprised when Kevin goes over the edge and only tries to pull him back once he sees the damage being done. On the other hand, Kevin plays the empath in their friendship, vocalizing Val’s hardships and offering performative apologies for institutional racism. His dialogue often reads like that of a first semester African-American Studies major, annoying the emotionally unavailable Val. Just as one might expect, both friends have backstories of trauma and toxic relationships. The series of events they go through on this particular day largely boil down to getting revenge, or at least closure, on the people who have wronged them. Both start to waver in the sincerity of their suicide pact, but as the day’s events continue to escalate, it becomes clear that regardless of what they choose, their futures are forever damaged, just like their pasts. Not many films tackle suicide in the form of a buddy comedy; more often, films deal with a main character living out their bucket list in the wake of a terminal diagnosis. The Bucket List , starring Jack Nicholson and Morgan Freeman, comes to mind, as well as a recent release entitled Living . On the Count of Three is a difficult project to find a comp for, except for another 2022 release, Next Exit . Delving more into sci-fi and straight drama, Next Exit revolves around two strangers thrust together in a rental car, traveling to the Bay Area to participate in a medical experiment that emulates suicide. While the two leads are very much at odds, they bond through their trauma, much like Val and Kevin. On the Count of Three is not for the faint of heart, but it will offer some chuckles and strong performances along the way. Previous Next Sign-up for new reviews, exclusives, deep dives, and more First name Last name Enter your email here I agree to the terms & conditions Sign-up Thanks for joining us!

  • A Brush of Violence

    A Brush of Violence makes us consider how we handle disappointments < Back A Brush of Violence makes us consider how we handle disappointments DLW, 2023 40 minutes Director/Writer: Daniel Lawrence Wilson Reading Time: 5 minutes 📷 : Used with permission, Daniel Lawrence Wilson A Brush of Violence Echo Mountain (T4UAWDOFDJONIQJD) 00:00 / 05:26 Ginseng Suspenseful and intense thrillers Dandelion Movies and TV shows with heavy subjects Reba Chaisson 2023-08-21 “Always remember why you started in the first place.” Popular wisdom on adversity contends that how we respond to disappointments and setbacks reveal a lot about our inner strength and focus. Do we persist when things initially don’t go our way, or do we cut and run in a different direction? I think the thinking here is simplistic since it considers neither the context of our lives nor our complexity as individuals. In other words, we neither cope with nor respond to happenings in the same ways. A Brush of Violence highlights this issue, but also leads us to consider our own fragility as it relates to our passions and disappointments. A Brush of Violence centers Vio, a reclusive artist who is famous for his provocative and violent paintings. After years of anonymity and being isolated in his home, he requests that Akila, a photographer, come to his home to take pictures of him that would amount to an unveiling of the man behind the paintings. Played by Mia Krystyna ( Solitude , A Letter on Loss ), the sedate and unflappable Akila is initially hesitant, though also curious why he chose her. She accepts Vio’s invitation, realizing it as a rare opportunity to boost her career ambitions. Darren Streibrig’s cinematography for the film is dark, fitting for the subject matter about a man who rarely ventures beyond the brick masonry and stone walls of his vast, eerie, and isolated estate. Joseph Holiday and Snakes of Russia’s soundtrack of low notes and shrieking violins add an ominous tone that hangs throughout the presentation. When combined with the minimal though profound dialog, it completes the film’s doomy feel. So, when Vio, played by Yavor Vesselinov ( The Bridge , Adultery ), asks Akila how far she will go to be remembered, we get the sense that something dark and unimaginable might happen during her visit. The 40-minute film contains some unexplained symbolism with flashes of color and masks. This may be frustrating for some of us since we’re not keen to Vio’s experiences, motivations, and what brought him to his life as a recluse. But films of all genres and lengths contain elements that are annoying and off-putting. I am reminded of several Spike Lee films that are laden with symbolism and special effects forced into the productions, disrupting an otherwise seamless movie-watching experience. The 2006 film Inside Man and the 1991 hit Jungle Fever come to mind. Both were, nonetheless, engaging films with strong lessons. In A Brush of Violence , the annoyance of the symbols is dampened by writer/director Daniel Lawrence Wilson’s use of multiple locations and the large cast of extras appearing in scenes at a bar and an art gallery, for example. Unusual for short films, these elements seem to make the movie come up for air after what feels like a dark and suffocating visit with Vio. Over an eerie silence, Vio and Akila engage in a conversation that gently stirs our emotions with light fingertips as the two use few words to talk about passion, aspiration, and ego. At one point, Vio, in his light, monotone voice advises Akila to “Always remember why you started in the first place” and later asking rhetorically, “What if there was never a day you were forgotten?” Vio’s musings hint that he lost himself sometime during his career, and that the passionate painting he once relished was somehow derailed. Despite his famed accomplishments, he is deeply saddened by not having fulfilled his ambitions and is now concerned about his legacy. In this sense, A Brush of Violence is similar to the passion exhibited in the 2008 tearjerker, The Wrestler . Mickey Rourke received an Oscar nomination for his role as Randy “The Ram,” a retired wrestler who has settled into a life outside the ring. While he works to make amends for his past failings as a father and husband, he longs for the fame and popularity he once reaped from the sport. He seizes the opportunity to get back into the ring, telling his fans that they are the only people to tell him when he’s through “doing his thing.” Passionate but not as brazen and vocal, Vio in A Brush of Violence is similarly concerned about his legacy and wants to solidify it on his own terms. I think many of us, especially those over 40, can relate to this. We begin our work lives with every intention of doing what we love, but we abandon it for practical reasons, or we are forced to leave it because of a life event. Also, sometimes, crap just happens! Our response to these disappointments varies, for instance dabbling in our passions on the weekends or returning to them after the dust has settled in our lives — to restore the essence of ourselves. I’m hoping Vio’s response to his disappointments is the exception. Check out this intriguing film and you’ll see what I mean. Available on YouTube Previous Next Sign-up for new reviews, exclusives, deep dives, and more First name Last name Enter your email here I agree to the terms & conditions Sign-up Thanks for joining us!

  • Getting Up Close and Personal with Crawdads and Vengeance | Cup of Tea Critiques

    < Back Getting Up Close and Personal with Crawdads and Vengeance A look at how film informs our perspective Reba Chaisson 11/4/22 Reading Time: 11 minutes 📸: Licensed from Shutterstock I don’t think we consider enough what film teaches us about ourselves and the circumstances of people with whom we have little sustained contact. Vengeance and Where the Crawdads Sing ( Crawdads ) are two films that accomplish this, taking us out of our comfort zones and bringing the unfamiliar up-close and personal. Crawdads follows Kya, a girl who is abandoned by her family in the 1950s and grows up alone on their land in a North Carolina marsh. When the restless 8-year-old ventures into nearby Barkley Cove for school, the town’s privileged adults hurl names at her like “Marsh Girl” while the children tease her for lacking shoes and suitable outfits for school. Traumatized by the treatment, Kya withdraws to shield herself from the sting, minimizing even casual encounters with anyone but her shadow. Destitute, she makes a life for herself in the marsh without the help of formal schooling, family, or even neighbors. She trusts less than a handful of people, two of them being Jumpin’ and Mabel. Played by Sterling Macer Jr. ( Double Take , BAB ) and Michael Hyatt ( The Little Things , Snowfall ), respectively, the congenial Black couple own the General Store in town and support the young girl with clothing and food. Kya also comes to trust Tom Milton, a kindly older lawyer, played by David Strathairn ( The Bourne Ultimatum , Godzilla ). In her seemingly endless days, weeks, months, and years of solitude, Kya, played by Daisy Edgar-Jones ( Normal People , Under the Banner of Heaven ), evolves into a naturalist, making beautifully detailed drawings of shells, and documenting the different species of birds and insects along with their habits. As she grows into a young adult and yearns for intimate relationships, she opens her heart to Tate, played by Taylor John Smith ( Cruel Intentions , You Get Me ) and slowly begins to discover what it feels like to be connected to people beyond her tiny circle, to learn what it feels like to love, be loved, and all that it means. But when a popular guy in town is found dead in a well-known hangout in the marsh, Kya is conveniently accused of his murder and the people in town unhesitatingly accept that “the Marsh Girl did it.” While Crawdads focuses on the life and travails of a young woman, Vengeance centers on Ben, a 30-something budding journalist from New York City. The inciting incident occurs when Ben receives news of the sudden death of Abilene Shaw, a woman from rural Texas with whom he had a one-night stand during her visit to the Big Apple. When her distraught brother, Ty, calls with the news, Ben initially struggles to remember her, and even when he does, he expresses only obligatory condolences rather than the genuine sense of sadness expected by her brother. Confused as to why he received a call at all, Ben, played by B.J. Novak ( The Office , Inglourious ), quickly learns that Abilene led her family to believe he was her fiancée. When Ty, played by Boyd Holbrook ( In the Shadow of the Moon , The Predator ), coerces him into coming to Texas for the funeral, Ben stays and writes a story about southern rural life, under the guise of helping the family find the person responsible for Abilene’s death and getting “retribution.” In his half-hearted effort to get answers from authorities, Ben becomes flabbergasted and exhausted as none appear committed to investigating Abilene’s death, let alone finding out who is responsible for dumping her body in an oil field where, conveniently, jurisdiction is unclear. Resigning himself to the reality that the case will never be solved, Ben returns to what was always his priority—writing his story. Crawdads and Vengeance are released at an interesting time in the U.S., when the states are segmented into red or blue and the language used to assess and even describe the phenomenon is largely negative (i.e. separate, divided). Like labeling, the consequences for this are prejudgments and deepening antagonisms about the people in each segment, affecting our ability to view them as residents of the same country or even as situated in a culture that is unique to each state. Perhaps the stories in these films will blur the lines a bit, encourage us to see what we have in common and still appreciate the uniqueness of our lived experiences. It is also interesting that these two independent films landed in mainstream theaters. If released at all, films centering Whites in rural areas of the South typically feature characters who are passively ridiculed in a short-lived cut or portrayed one-dimensionally as villainous because something went quite awry in their lives. Ironically, Ben is presented as the oddity in Vengeance, as he missteps the culture of a rodeo event and later has a meltdown because he cannot get the answers to what he views as simple questions for his story. In stark contrast, for the Shaw family, it ain’t that serious; it just is. Sociology teaches that you cannot understand a person without engaging him or her. In the case of a community, you cannot understand it without becoming a part of it. Some of the best research is conducted by engaging people and becoming a part of communities (Read Nickel and Dimed by the late Barbara Ehrenreich.). The engagement—questions, conversations, immersion in the culture—is meant to learn about people given their everyday circumstances, not as tools for manipulating and shaping their world views. This learning takes more than a minute, an hour, or even a day. Rather, it takes weeks, months, and sometimes even years. Ben’s effort to exploit the Shaws for a story and shape them into viewing the world through his eyes (i.e. expressing themselves in ways he understands them, and believing they are missing out by not being connected to urban life as he is) speaks volumes about how our biases shape who we are. They also speak to how, at times, we consciously or unconsciously view ourselves as more accepted, normal, or in some way better than others. From this vantage point, we (intentionally or not) impose constraints on others, stripping away their humanity and treating them as outsiders. We also see this in Crawdads , when Kya is indicted for murder and the other citizens are convinced, without evidence, that “the Marsh girl” did it. This label and Kya’s lack of connection to the influential people in town who had effectively relegated her to the marsh, allows for objectifying and dehumanizing her. This influences the attitudes and actions of authorities and other townspeople toward Kya, making it seem perfectly logical to believe she committed the crime. At the risk of being redundant, it fascinates me that these two films that do a wonderful job humanizing Whites in rural areas of the South landed in mainstream theaters. Classified as a comedy/mystery, Vengeance falls on some obvious stereotypes of Whites in rural areas. But the development of the characters over the 107 minutes allows us to see the Shaws as people rather than the typical cinematic caricatures of Whites in the Deep South. Crawdads , a drama/mystery film, provides a singular laser-focused glimpse into the life of a girl abandoned by her family at a very young age and forced to grow up alone, living off the land. In presenting these circumstances and her ostracism by the people in town, the film humanizes her and even tugs at the audience’s heart strings. I wonder, though, if these are still viewed as one-off portrayals. Much has been written on the power of film representations in shaping our perspective. In a 2017 interview with the Huffington Post , Dr. Ana-Christina Ramón who now heads the Entertainment and Media Research Initiative at UCLA states, “What you see [on film] often becomes a part of your memory and thus a part of your life experience.” Will audience members come away from these stories with an informed perspective about people in rural areas of the South, or will they soon dismiss the depictions as atypical and not representative of Whites in the Deep South? In films where White characters from rural areas are ridiculed or portrayed as criminally defective (i.e. Deliverance , Winter’s Bone , Mud ), we don’t typically walk away viewing Whites as a group in these ways. This is largely due to the preponderance of “normal” middle-class Whites in the film and television images we see. Thus, White representations that deviate from these depictions are dismissed as one-offs—oddities, expendables, a glimpse of people who just “don’t fit,” “don’t matter,” and “aren’t relevant.” I still wonder, hope maybe, that the representations in Crawdads and Vengeance will take up space in our memories, even if just a little, to influence the way we think about people in these regions. I also wonder if viewers’ ideas about racial identity will begin to turn over in their heads. If Vengeance and Crawdads did not center Whites, one might think the subjects in the films were people of color in the U.S. Had they been, I wonder if we would have exited the theaters with our biases confirmed or challenged about these groups. Author Florentine Bakkenes writes in her 2022 Diggit Magazine article , that “The media people consume, the movies they watch, and the television series they follow, are not just entertainment, it also has an impact on the way people think and view other people.” In her 2018 New York Times article on what film teaches her about being a woman, film critic Manohla Dargis writes, “There isn’t a causal relationship between viewer behavior and the screen. There doesn’t have to be. Because movies get into our bodies, making us howl and weep, while their narrative and visual patterns, their ideas and ideologies leave their imprint.” In Crawdads and Vengeance , the characters are normal and/or heroic ones that display the depths of their humanity. They are loving, caring, funny, rude, smart, not-so-smart, good, bad, and all the gray areas in between. If the Shaws were Black and Kya was Latina, would this tickle viewers' sensibilities about the depth and breadth of the humanity of Blacks and Hispanics as a whole? I love these films and my eyes watered as I left the theaters (particularly for Vengeance ), because these were stories that needed to be told. Whites in rural areas are rarely centered and humanized in film, but Crawdads and Vengeance do a wonderful job of changing this trend. Having said this, I look forward to seeing similar cinematic presentations centering underrepresented people of color. Vengeance brings to mind the film, Wind River , which is about the death of a Native American woman on a reservation in Wyoming and the reluctance of federal authorities in working the case. As in Vengeance , law enforcement was not interested in investigating the death of a woman of poor background in a rural area. Where the Crawdads Sing is reminiscent of the 1972 film, Sounder , starring Kevin Hooks as David Lee and the late and great Cicely Tyson as Rebecca. Set in the Deep South in the 1930s, the film is about Nathan Lee (played by Paul Winfield), a Black sharecropper who is wrongfully jailed for a crime he did not commit. I still remember the poignant scene where a sheriff’s deputy used a knife to cut holes into the beautifully frosted chocolate cake meant for Nathan, as his 10-year-old son David helplessly watched a symbol of his mother’s love for her husband be destroyed. My recollection of the details of these films reinforces the point that film “imprints” itself, teaching us something about who we are and the circumstances of people with whom we have little if any sustained contact. While what we glean from the lessons vary depending upon our vantage point, experiences, and knowledge of the past, the depictions of people and circumstances have the power to inform, thus shaping our perspective. Sometimes film confirms our views and other times, its stories and depictions challenge them. In either case, good or bad, welcome or not, we are learning something. References Bakkenes, F. (2022). Diversity and Representation in TV and Movies and Why it Matters. Diggit Magazine . https://www.diggitmagazine.com/papers/diversity-and-representation-tv-and-movies-and-why-it-matters Boboltz, S and Yam, K. Why On-Screen Representation Actually Matters. The Huffington Post . https://www.huffpost.com/entry/why-on-screen-representation-matters_n_58aeae96e4b01406012fe49d Boorman, J. (Director). (1972). Deliverance [Film]. Elmer Enterprises. Dargis, M. (2018). What the Movies Taught Me About Being a Woman. The New York Times . https://www.nytimes.com/interactive/2018/11/30/movies/women-in-movies.html Ehrenreich, B. (2001). Nickel and Dimed . Metropolitan Books. Granik, D. (Director). (2010). Winter’s Bone [Film]. Anonymous Content. Newman, O. (Director). (2022). Where the Crawdads Sing [Film]. Columbia Pictures. Nichols, J. (Director). (2012). Mud [Film]. Everest Entertainment. Novak, B. J. (Director). (2022). Vengeance [Film]. Blumhouse Productions. Ritt, M. (Director). (1972). Sounder [Film]. Radnitz/Mattel Productions. Sheridan, T. (Director). (2017). Wind River [Film]. Acacia Filmed Entertainment. Previous Next Sign-up for new reviews, exclusives, deep dives, and more First name Last name Enter your email here I agree to the terms & conditions Sign-up Thanks for joining us!

  • Pachinko

    Pachinko chronicles a Korean family through multiple generations that leaves their native land for Japan in order to survive. < Back Pachinko chronicles a Korean family through multiple generations that leaves their native land for Japan in order to survive. Media Res, 2022 55 minutes Creator: Soo Hugh Reading Time: 3 minutes 📷 : Apple Studios Pachinko Warmth and Wonder (MDMO3SB9CXXSAPYB) 00:00 / 04:16 Chamomile Family dramas Ginger Thought-provoking movies and TV shows Chris Chaisson 2022-06-07 For most fictional television shows, it can be a challenge to span multiple time periods without some elements of fantasy. We see programs like Westworld and Doctor Who incorporate time travel, but rarely do dramas that exist in a more realistic universe risk pulling the viewer out of the established temporal setting. Much of a show’s appeal to its audience is giving them a sense of comfort with the setting and familiarity with the characters. Therefore, covering multiple generations across an entire century, sink or swim, is quite the experiment. Enter Pachinko , a historical drama focused on how a major world event influenced the life paths of many citizens and their offspring. Created by Soo Hugh and adapted from a 2017 novel by Min Jin Lee, Pachinko chronicles a Korean family through multiple generations that leaves their native land for Japan in order to survive. The trilingual story (unfolding in Japanese, Korean and English dialogue) weaves between separate timelines, highlighting characters in a different culture than their predecessors as well as the same characters in different stages of their lives. Despite its drastic timespan, Pachinko remains a story driven more by character than setting. Solomon (Jin Ha, Devs ) seeks a promotion at his sales associate job but he is wrongfully denied. In order to receive his bump, he vows to close an account back in his native land that he has personal ties to. In doing so, he must travel back and convince the current landowner to sell her property, despite her emotional attachment to the real estate. Meanwhile, in Sunja’s youth, she enters a romance with a prominent married businessman, Hansu (Lee Minho, Heirs ), who impregnates her but will not raise the child. A nomad, Isak (Steve Sang-Hyun Noh, Sense8) , who Sunja’s family nurses back to health, vows to step in and act as a surrogate father. In adept fashion, Pachinko highlights class and generational differences. Solomon, of a younger generation and Western cultural influence, embodies individualist ideals. He wants to close a deal to progress his own career and is not concerned with the sentimental value of the property he is trying to acquire. Sunja, on the other hand, values family and community over personal gain, as articulated in her very first onscreen exchange with Solomon. Despite being each other’s flesh and blood, their priorities and mindsets diverge in a drastic manner. Though Solomon remains defensive about having different cultural influences, he opens his eyes to different perspectives as the series progresses. While displaying the macro-level influences of age, class and culture, Pachinko also shows how individual experiences manipulate the way its characters see the world. For instance, part of Sunja’s devotion to family stems from the pain she feels at Hansu’s rejection of her after she discloses her pregnancy to him. Just the same, an episode late in the first season reveals the origin of Hansu’s pain where he experiences the crushing and sudden loss of a close family member during his adolescence. Pachinko brings to mind another critically acclaimed period drama that highlighted classism and cultural differences, Downton Abbey . Family and loyalty are major themes of both series, and they astutely display the clash between those seeking social mobility and those always willing to sacrifice for others. Interestingly enough, the series is executive produced and directed by the creator of another project about family and loyalty, Justin Chon and his film, Blue Bayou . We will be looking forward to more projects to come from the talented Chon and hope to see more AAPI creatives welcomed into the producer space. Previous Next Sign-up for new reviews, exclusives, deep dives, and more First name Last name Enter your email here I agree to the terms & conditions Sign-up Thanks for joining us!

  • Marketing Associate | Cup of Tea Critiques

    < Back Marketing Associate Apply Now San Francisco, CA, USA Job Type Part Time Workspace Remote About the Role This is placeholder text. To change this content, double-click on the element and click Change Content. Want to view and manage all your collections? Click on the Content Manager button in the Add panel on the left. Here, you can make changes to your content, add new fields, create dynamic pages and more. Your collection is already set up for you with fields and content. Add your own content or import it from a CSV file. Add fields for any type of content you want to display, such as rich text, images, and videos. Be sure to click Sync after making changes in a collection, so visitors can see your newest content on your live site. Requirements This is placeholder text. To change this content, double-click on the element and click Change Content. To manage all your collections, click on the Content Manager button in the Add panel on the left. This is placeholder text. To change this content, double-click on the element and click Change Content. To manage all your collections, click on the Content Manager button in the Add panel on the left. This is placeholder text. To change this content, double-click on the element and click Change Content. To manage all your collections, click on the Content Manager button in the Add panel on the left. This is placeholder text. To change this content, double-click on the element and click Change Content. To manage all your collections, click on the Content Manager button in the Add panel on the left. About the Company This is placeholder text. To change this content, double-click on the element and click Change Content. Want to view and manage all your collections? Click on the Content Manager button in the Add panel on the left. Here, you can make changes to your content, add new fields, create dynamic pages and more. You can create as many collections as you need. Your collection is already set up for you with fields and content. Add your own, or import content from a CSV file. Add fields for any type of content you want to display, such as rich text, images, videos and more. You can also collect and store information from your site visitors using input elements like custom forms and fields. Be sure to click Sync after making changes in a collection, so visitors can see your newest content on your live site. Preview your site to check that all your elements are displaying content from the right collection fields. Apply Now

  • Bob Marley: One Love Insightful Movie Reviews | Cup of Tea Critiques

    < Back Bob Marley: One Love presents the look and sound of sincerity Paramount Pictures, 2024 104 minutes Director/Writer: Reinaldo Marcus Green / Terence Winter, Frank E. Flowers, Zach Baylin, and Reinaldo Marcus Green Reading Time: 6 minutes Bob Marley: One Love Mother Earth (UGMU6CW0MDCL4R3L) 00:00 / 06:59 📷 : Used with Permission, Dustin Knotek https://www.instagram.com/dustinknotek/ https://www.behance.net/dknotek, https://dknotek.com/ Jasmine: Movies and TV shows with heart, positive vibes, and warm messages Sage: Movies and TV shows with low-key characters Reba Chaisson 2024-02-17 We are so primed to the lies and pretentiousness of political and cultural leaders and even members of the judiciary that we have a knee-jerk reaction to sincerity. Sincerity is questioned in part because of our limited exposure to cultures outside of the Western mainstream, where perspectives, attitudes, and approaches to life and living are different from our own. This film about the life of Bob Marley stands a chance at challenging our cynicism about the possibility that sincerity can be real. Bob Marley: One Love is about the musician’s constant and incessant search for ways to fulfill the purpose he believes Jah (God) has for him. Set in Jamaica and the UK, the film begins with the adult Marley, played by Kingsley Ben-Adir ( Barbie , King Arthur: Legend of the Sword ), arranging a concert to bring peace to his country, which is divided by factions warring for power. The divisions are a result of Jamaica’s recent independence from Britain and the familiar vacuum that colonial powers create when they leave territories in political and economic ruins. Marley expects his melodies of love and unity to transcend the actions of his fellow Jamaicans, transform their thinking, and motivate them to put down their guns – until he is targeted by rebels who invade his home and shoot him. Such trauma would lead many people to question their faith and the understanding of their purpose. Marley, instead, questions his countrymen. In an exchange with his long-time mentor, Marley expresses his incredulity about the incident, stating, “I would have never believed they would try to kill me!” Family Man Barrett, his mentor played by Aston Barrett Jr., passionately responds, “The question is not why they tried to kill you. It’s why they did not succeed.” Marley doesn’t falter in his purpose after the trauma, instead striving to strengthen his music and move people to change in these new post-colonial times. For now, the sound is imperfect. The drums are not quite right. Even the album cover isn’t on point. Ever more focused, he moves as if guided by something deeply spiritual and he refuses to deviate from its instruction. Bob Marley: One Love will likely be criticized as a display of reggae music rather than a story about the man’s life. He draws thousands to his riveting concerts all over Europe and sings sweet quiet songs with soft melodies and lyrics about love. I agree that the film is heavily infused with Marley’s music and performances. However, it also gives us context and perspective for Marley’s life with glimpses into his childhood and the painful void left by a father who shunned him. I would also argue that the movie portrays Marley as an imperfect man who cares deeply for his wife Rita, played by Lashana Lynch ( No Time to Die , Roald Dahl’s Matilda the Musical ), and has a special relationship with his son, Ziggy. And while a lot of bands disband because of divisiveness or changing interests, Marley’s band remains intact and steadfast, even after relocating to Britain for a time. So, understanding this film as it regards Marley’s life beyond his music requires hearing what is unspoken and seeing what is not front and center. A fair criticism of the movie is the lack of space given to other reggae artists. People younger than 40 are likely unfamiliar with Bob Marley since he passed away in 1981 and reggae is not a part of mainstream music in the West. So, Marley and his music not only predate rap, pop, and alt rock, it stems from a part of the globe that few of us think to visit when we vacation – Jamaica. In addition, Western media utters little about the goings on in this former British territory. The movie compounds this by zeroing in only on Marley’s world. In my humble opinion, this is a missed opportunity for the film given the captive mainstream audience. It was a chance to expose us to the range of this genre, not only its sound during Marley’s era but also through to its present beats. Who are the artists? What is their message? How has the genre changed over the years and how has it influenced other music? Why don’t we hear it on the radio stations that tend to keep only a dozen songs in their playlist despite music like reggae that is pop and rock adjacent? Introducing reggae artists in the film could have gone a long way in broadening viewers’ minds and expanding their tastes into this segment of the music industry. Small Axe , a series of five shorts by British filmmaker Steve McQueen, depicts the harassment experienced by people from the West Indies between the late 1960s and early 1980s in Britain. We see an example of this in Bob Marley: One Love when Marley and his friends are pushed around by the police, searched and thrown in jail for standing around a statue at night and talking. The fact-based Small Axe series suggests that Marley and his friends endured much more physical harassment than was shown. The scenes are likely crafted in this manner to keep the movie positive and avoid detracting from the emphasis on Marley and his message of love. This is not an unusual tactic in film. Indeed, Mr. Church did something similar where it omitted historical context so as not to distract from the story’s focus on the main character. As I said then, it does beg the question on whether a story should be presented with complete and accurate historical context, or if filmmakers have tacit permission to strip away extraneous but ugly information that can add noise to the film and disrupt its themes. The approach depends on what the filmmakers want to convey. Marley’s love and respect for people was so genuine that he nearly takes the head off his manager for bringing corruption into his space. In an interview, he stated that his kind of rich could not be measured in money. His kind of rich was love, safety, and happiness for all people, and this strand ran throughout his life and music. What do you do with such a unicorn? How do you wrap your arms around someone who is such an oddity? Whether we realize it or not, we miss Marley. It is sad that we did not have the pleasure of being wrapped in his ever-evolving music for a longer period of time. We could sure use a unicorn today. Yeahh maan! Previous Next Sign-up for new reviews, exclusives, deep dives, and more First name Last name Enter your email here I agree to the terms & conditions Sign-up Thanks for joining us!

  • Borgen

    Borgen provides an international perspective through political drama < Back Borgen provides an international perspective through political drama Dansmark Radio, 2010-13 58 minutes Creator: Adam Price Reading Time: 4 minutes 📷 : Used with permission, Netflix Borgen Sliced Bread (PMGPOVFPRLWGTPW0) 00:00 / 04:30 Barley Movies and TV shows with a lot of dialog Honeybush Nonfamily dramas with strong adult and/or socioeconomic themes Reba Chaisson 2021-07-25 For years, I have contended that there is no better way to understand the system you are in and your degree of socialization to it, without an international perspective. Insight into how other countries operate—politically, economically, and socially—is a good way to appreciate the privileges of your own and to acknowledge its constraints. That the lessons are accompanied with intrigue, tension, crises, and poignant moments is a bonus. Borgen is a present-day series about politics in Denmark and the rise of its first female prime minister. Starring Sidse Babett Knudsen ( Westworld , A Hologram for the King ) as Birgitte Nyborg Christensen, the series depicts a convergence of the different interests that make the Danish government work. Through portrayals of power‑sharing across political parties and even the process of selecting a prime minister, the show presents what it means to serve and be accountable to the electorate. Unlike the United States, Denmark consists of more than ten political parties , five of which occupy approximately three-quarters of its 179 elected parliamentary seats. The system still holds firm after more than 170 years and yields the intentional effect of forcing cooperation, negotiation, and compromise with groups that have distinct and sometimes opposing political ideas and priorities. This against the backdrop of the centuries-old buildings, small living quarters, cozy cafes, and cool temperatures gives us a feel for the culture of the North European country. A wife and mother of two, Christensen is overwhelmed by parental demands, as are most protagonists in stories about career women. Also, predictably, she is saddled with a loving but unfaithful husband, portrayed by Mikael Bikkjaer. A wise senior adviser, played by Lars Knutzon, helps her realize her power and to grasp a more complete view of the Danish political landscape. This proves to be epiphanous for the leader of the newly elected majority party in Parliament. Much like The West Wing , the series takes viewers inside the room where negotiations are conducted, tensions and ambitions are revealed, and wills are tested. Indeed, the efforts to undercut Christensen’s power are continuous. A CEO threatens to relocate his billion-dollar company if a measure passes mandating that women comprise half of all private sector board members. In a private, late-night meeting with Christensen, the man calmly sips his coffee from the fine china and states with strong self‑assurance, “… we cannot risk having incompetent leadership in our companies due to state intervention.” Politics are around the clock in this series where there is no rest for the weary prime minister. The constant wrangling for attention, power, and control are ever-present, and each has to be weighed against the country’s social-democratic values. When a cabinet minister discloses the cease-and-desist order he took against a group of journalists because he could not find a mole, the prime minister admonishes him and squashes the action, referring to it as out of line with their principles. When political tensions arise with a former colony, she dismisses the leader with niceties because of “more important matters” she needs to attend to at home. Realizing the need to recalibrate, she learns about the damage of colonization, triggering for us the experiences of Indigenous people in the U.S. What is most interesting about this series is it allows us to see up close how multiple interests can be served at the national level. The show, then, forces us to reckon with the constraints of a system that drives and cajoles us into bifurcated camps and often antagonistic political identities as Democrats or Republicans. If you like pondering political matters like these, you might want to give Borgen a try. It’s also pretty cool to see the virtues of only two people debating at a time, standing at a small round table with the moderator between them! Yeah—different. Previous Next Sign-up for new reviews, exclusives, deep dives, and more First name Last name Enter your email here I agree to the terms & conditions Sign-up Thanks for joining us!

  • In Syria Insightful Movie Reviews | Cup of Tea Critiques

    < Back In Syria calls cinematic heroism into question Centre du Cinéma et de l'Audiovisuel de la Fédération Wallonie-Bruxelles, 2017 85 minutes Director/Writer: Philippe Van Leeuw Reading Time: 5 minutes In Syria Al'Athir (FBG6STOWFOY4UTPR) 00:00 / 06:03 📷 : Licensed from Shutterstock Ginseng: Suspenseful and intense thrillers Dandelion: Movies and TV shows with heavy subjects Reba Chaisson 2021-08-30 In Syria dramatizes the life of an extended family living out the Syrian civil war from their Damascus apartment as sporadic sniper fire rings out and bombs drop around them without warning. Years after commencement of the conflict, the once-bustling city is only a shell of its former self, now closer to resembling a post-apocalyptic scene from the 1984 film, The Terminator . Giant pieces of concrete and severely damaged buildings are omnipresent remnants of the war. Abandoned, smashed, and dust‑covered cars sitting idle in unlikely places appear not only as relics of the conflict, but as reminders of the lives and neighborhoods that once thrived here. Headed by Oum Yazan as the mother of three, played by Hiam Abbass ( Succession , Inheritance ), the 10‑person household contains her pre-adolescent boy and two teenage girls, along with her young adult nephew and father-in-law. Additional occupants include her housekeeper, Delhani, played by Juliette Navis ( The Tunnel , Paris ), and a young couple (Samir and Halima) with their infant son who were neighbors in the now nearly empty and damaged building. As if being on edge about bombs dropping all around is not enough, the family is terrorized by Syrian security forces who randomly knock on the door, insisting that they enter to ensure enemy combatants are not holed up inside. Each occurrence is terrifying and nerve-wracking as Oum holds them off, repeatedly asserting that her husband is not home. In Syria feels like a play rather than a film and is reminiscent of the 1959 Broadway production of A Raisin in the Sun . Released on the big screen in 1961, the film stars Sidney Poitier and the late actresses, Claudia McNeil and Ruby Dee, as an extended family struggling to get by in a small Chicago apartment. Like most of the scenes in A Raisin in the Sun , In Syria takes place in a single setting, an apartment. Both stories are about survival and depict families in desperate and emotional situations. The productions, however, differ in their struggles. In A Raisin in the Sun , the struggle relates to quality of life–the ability to pay the bills and be able to experience a piece of the proverbial American dream by owning a home. In Syria highlights the struggle to simply survive another day. The stories also differ in the characters’ views of the family unit. In A Raisin in the Sun , matriarch Lena Younger treats everyone in the household as family; conversely, In Syria’s protagonist, Oum, views family as those only related by blood. This comes through when the housekeeper explains to Oum, in exasperation, that she has been holed up there for days and needs to get home to her son. Oum stares at her and snaps “Get back to work.” And later in the film, Oum makes a grave and typically regrettable decision, yet exhibits no remorse for doing so. Not noted as a hero in the reviews is Karim, the young nephew played by Elias Khatter. In only his late teens, he stands strong and respectfully pleads with his aunt to allow him to help. She shushes him, her mind made up. Later, he does what he feels compelled to do over the objections of others. Watching this sequence, I could not help but wonder if we are so focused on designating women as heroines that we sometimes get short-circuited in our determination to do so. While Oum’s desperation to keep her family safe is understandable, she exploits and sacrifices other women to do so. The fact that the women carry traits associated with groups who have historically been exploited indicates their casting was strategic. Since their characteristics fit the stereotypes of socially acceptable expendables, their representations in the film are palatable and makes the women’s treatment by Oum easy to overlook as problematic. The impact of this casting, though, undermines the film’s goal to make Oum the heroine of In Syria . Heroism is sacrifice of self and the taking of risk for others–the very antithesis of exploitation. These do not characterize Oum’s actions; rather, they are the actions of her young nephew, Karim. Is he not viewed as the hero because he is a man and popular sentiment now leans toward making women the heroes of stories, even when their characters are not? It can even be argued that the casting of a first-time actor in the role of Karim was designed to make it easy to situate Oum as the hero of this story. Karim’s casting eliminates familiar actors from the competition for recognition. Still though, heroism occurs through deeds, self-sacrifice, and demonstrations of courage. Oum is exploitative–and worse yet, exploits other women and women in a socially weaker position than hers. Fake heroism does not yield sweet fruit. It just doubles down on the contention that identities are constructed through biased lenses. Perhaps the film warrants your own take. What you will certainly appreciate from the presentation is the terror of living in the midst of war. Previous Next Sign-up for new reviews, exclusives, deep dives, and more First name Last name Enter your email here I agree to the terms & conditions Sign-up Thanks for joining us!

  • Saint Omer Insightful Movie Reviews | Cup of Tea Critiques

    < Back Saint Omer weaves a deep story that draws in the audience and shifts perspective Srab Films, 2022 122 minutes Director/Writer: Alice Diop / Amrita David, Alice Diop, and Zoé Galeron Reading Time: 5 minutes Saint Omer Redemption (A7X9UHXWTZE3THEC) 00:00 / 06:31 📷 : Licensed from Shutterstock Barley Movies and TV shows with a lot of dialog Dandelion Movies and TV shows with heavy subjects Reba Chaisson 2023-03-28 In 2000, Nicolas Cage played Memphis Raines, a master car thief in the film Gone in 60 Seconds . Incentivized by a big payday, he came out of retirement to steal 50 luxury cars in one night. I recall cheering for his success as he came close to hitting his number, and pondering how the filmmakers were able to manipulate my emotions in this way. How do writers and filmmakers convert the audience from sympathizing with protagonists to cheering for antagonists? There seems to be multiple ways, one of which is through flash for sure, but others are certainly breadth of story and depth of character. Saint Omer certainly fits the latter two. Saint Omer is about a writer and literature professor who covers the courtroom drama of a woman who has pleaded guilty to leaving her 15-month old daughter to drown in the sea. Set in France with nearly the entire film situated in a courtroom, Rama, played by Kayije Kagame ( H24, 24 h de la vie d'une femme , L'invité ), is drawn to the case’s similarity to the Greek mythological story about Medea. Referred to in the film as “The Saint,” the story is about a woman who murders her children as revenge against her husband. Lacking an emotional connection with her mother, Rama carries a deep-seated fear that she too is capable of such an act. I would not think that a film set largely in a formal space and dictated by rule and order could hold my attention for two hours. But the extensive soliloquies and in-depth interviews that make up the overarching foci of the film continually pull me in, arm over arm like tug of war. Unlike the game, I offer no resistance. Laurence Coly’s telling of her story, not through flashbacks but her own words, are compelling enough to make me empathize, even sympathize with her plight. Like everyone in the courtroom gallery, I become deeply immersed in her story to learn why – how she could have done something so unthinkable. In France, even a guilty plea allows for getting answers to these questions, which is in stark contrast to the judicial process in the U.S. When a person pleads guilty in the U.S. court system, it is to avoid an inquiry into the crime and minimize the risk of extensive punishment – in theory anyway. Indeed, the guilty plea is entered and the person who is accused is summarily sentenced by the judge to some pre-negotiated terms. In France, a plea of guilty does not circumvent an extensive court inquiry into the commission of the crime. On the contrary, a detailed examination is performed of the person’s life from birth to present, including family background, schooling, relationships, social life, psychological state, and even current experiences with incarceration. The process is akin to an oral defense of a thesis or dissertation. Instead of professors lobbing questions at the graduate candidate, the judge asks the defendant numerous and detailed questions informed by police reports, psychiatric examinations, and other investigations. In Saint Omer , Laurence, played by Guslagie Malanda ( My Friend Victoria , The Beast ), stands in a designated box throughout the entirety of the proceedings. She responds to each question, even sometimes with a hesitating but eloquent “I don’t know,” essentially putting on her best defense with hopes of mitigating her punishment for the crime. To sum, the French courts aim to gain an appreciation not only for the context of the crime but also the context of Laurence’s life before sentencing her. This is very different from the U.S. system that operates in a way that suggests it cares very little about the circumstances of a crime, let alone the person who committed it – in some cases even if the person committed it. It takes a brilliant piece of writing to convert an observer who initially dismisses a person because of their heinous deeds to one who sympathizes with said antagonist. But something happens when we get to know people — when we get inside the lives of people. Something changes. We come to appreciate that things are much more complex than they seem. We realize that context matters. One of the enjoyable aspects of international films is the view it provides of cultural practices in other countries. France considers context in its efforts to understand criminal cases. It makes me ponder the difference it would make in the complexion of the criminal justice system in the U.S. and the prisons in which they house the people that are convicted. Saint Omer also helps to answer more personal questions concerning Rama’s worries about the kind of mother she can be. And that is: Does coming face to face with those things we fear most help us move forward? Winning the grand jury prize and best debut feature in the Venice Film festival, Saint Omer was the only French film submitted for an Oscars nomination in the international films category. The strength of the feature is not surprising given writer/director Alice Diop’s 15 years as a documentarian presenting stories about the lives of people living on the periphery of French society. As she told The Guardian , “For 15 years, I’ve been making films from the margins, with a political intention of filming those margins – the banlieue, people who have been silenced, because those are the people I come from. That’s my territory, my history.” Saint Omer, which is based on a true story, resonated with Diop’s aesthetic priorities and filmmaking style due to its compelling, eloquent, and deeply personal story. We look forward to seeing more of her work. Previous Next Sign-up for new reviews, exclusives, deep dives, and more First name Last name Enter your email here I agree to the terms & conditions Sign-up Thanks for joining us!

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