In Portrait of a Lady on Fire, there’s a moment where the characters discuss the fate of Orpheus and Eurydice. Sophie, the third wheel, argues, why would Orpheus turn around when he was told not to or he would lose his love? I like Marianne’s explanation, “He chooses the memory of her. That’s why he turns. He doesn’t make the lover’s choice, but the poet’s.” Like Orpheus, Marianne knows Héloïse is not hers to keep. She must get married or choose her sister’s fate. And Héloïse acknowledges this, releasing Orpheus’s blame, “Perhaps she was the one who said, Turn around.” Céline Sciamma’s Portrait of a Lady on Fire is a powerful, hypnotic film full of where passion slowly blooms, beauty cannot be restrained and a forbidden love lives on in only memory.
Céline Sciamma’s story centers around a young portrait painter, Marianne (Noémie Merlant), sent to a remote island to paint a young woman, Héloïse (Adèle Haenel) before she is married. Marianne is the second painter summoned, Héloïse’s mother tells her that Héloïse refused to pose for the first one, as she opposes the marriage. Héloïse is also the second bride, her older sister so strongly opposed the marriage she jumped off one of the island’s high cliffs. Now Héloïse is told that Marianne will be her walking companion. Marianne must study Héloïse on their walks and paint her by memory in secret.
The deception is only the first act of the film. When Marianne finishes the portrait from memory, she shows it to Héloïse and confesses her deception. The portrait is too perfect, it could be any woman with Héloïse’s features. It lacks life, Héloïse’s fierce flash of anger, the tired red eyes bagged with grief. Marianne destroys the painting and to her surprise, Héloïse agrees to pose for her. Her mother will be away and they have until she returns to finish the portrait.
What unfolds is a mixture of an affair between artist and muse, Héloïse’s first taste of womanhood and her last taste of freedom before marriage. The slow burn, hypnotic tension between Marianne and Héloïse rises to romance and brings forth a sexier love story than most films can muster between heteosexal leads. Yet, there are no sex scenes, unless you count the couple lying in bed, breasts exposed with Marianne drawing secret portraits in a book, using a perfectly placed mirror.
Their portrait scene where Marianne tells Héloïse all the little nuances she has noticed about her and Héloïse shooting back saying, “When you’re observing me, who do you think I’m observing?” put the traditional artist/muse relationship on it’s head. Usually those relationships are very one sided, the man being powerful, the woman the silent idol. But here, Héloïse’s spunk and the fact that they’re both women make it equal.
During the mother’s absence, the maid, Sophie (Luàna Bajrami) reveals that she is pregnant. Marianne and Héloïse help her to rectify the situation, first by herbs and exercise, later by visiting an older woman who preforms a 18th century abortion. As Sophie lays back during the procedure, a baby no older than 2 holds her hand and plays with her. Later, Marianne paints a recreation of the scene, with Héloïse posing as the practitioner. The symbolism in these acts, these people around Sophie in her moment of need is astounding.
I’ve never seen a film so full of raw, powerful feminism and I love it. Along with the obvious subjects, the film is completely driven by women and their relationships together, whether as lovers, friends, artist/subject, mother/daughter. The actors bear natural beauty, even displaying body hair that rarely graces Hollywood films without a grimace. There are only a few men in the film, none of them have important speaking roles. Portrait of a Lady on Fire is a beautiful, bold and empowering and enthralling film that I hope inspires more female filmmakers to bring their stories to the world.
“It’s a life that has advantages. There’s a library. You can sing or hear music. And equality is a pleasant feeling.”
I went to see Joker opening weekend in a full IMAX theater. I was unmoved most of the film, but the gasps from the audience made it an enjoyable experience. I left feeling sour, angry and didn’t think Joker deserved a review from me. When the Oscar nominations were announced I was confused and astounded at the eleven awards it was nominated for. What was I missing? So the other night I gave it another go at home. I still can’t say I like Joker, but with that second viewing some of the themes and ideas settled better and I can say it’s a good movie.
In Todd Phillips’ reincarnation of the classic Batman villain, Joker tells the story of Arthur Fleck (Joaquin Phoenix) and his transformation from an aspiring comedian to the face behind a riotous anti-rich movement in Gotham City. This poor joker lives with his mother, works as an advertising clown on the rough streets, and sees a government mandated counselor in order to get his medication. He carries a card explaining how he can break into unstoppable fits of laughter at any moment. One by one, the things that give his life meaning are taken away. He loses his job. The government cuts the program that gives him help and medication. His comedy act bombs so badly the local late night TV host makes fun of him. And he learns a horrible truth about his mother. 
Joaquin Phoenix’s performance is the obviously great thing in this film. In my first viewing I walked away knowing he would get an Oscar nomination for his role. The Joker has been played in so many times and Phoenix finds a new edge for this character, making him both sympathetic and loathsome. He makes Arthur the kind of guy you really feel bad for, but you make sure to stay away from him. I’d move seats if I was that lady with her kid on the bus. His laugh is something truly creepy and becomes a noise stuck in your head and creeping into your mind at weak moments. 
Relentless. That’s the word that rings in my head as I think about Sam Mendes’ film 1917. Based on stories from Mendes’ grandfather in WWI, the film follows two WWI British soldiers, Lance Corporal Blake (Dean-Charles Chapman) and Lance Corporal Schofield (George MacKay) on an important mission. Before dawn, they need to walk nine miles through enemy territory to deliver a message to stop an attack planned for the morning. The soldiers there are heading into a trap. Against time and all odds, they must deliver this message to save 1,600 men, including Blake’s brother.
What makes this film so relentless is the fact that it is filmed to look like one continuous shot. From the field of wildflowers Blake and Schofield are resting by, to the end of the film, the camera follows these soldiers on their mission barely letting us blink. The camera moves through the labyrinth of trenches, across the dreaded no-mans-land, through an abandoned farm house, a town reduced to rubble and flame, down a raging river, through forests and into battle. There’s no downtime for these men as they navigate through muddy craters, run from a crashing plane, accidentally stick a hand into a rotting corpse that a rat just climbed out of and desperately run from enemy fire. The intense and unblinking realism of this film is downright frightening.
The night scene is both beautiful and terrifying. In it, Schofield is trying to get
I’m sure Hitchcock would be astounded at the technical achievement of this film. To make a feature film that appears to be one long, continuous shot (there is one major cut to black and back) is ambitious and obviously took an unprecedented amount of planning with sprawling sets and some of the most advanced equipment. I’ve read that there was nearly one mile of trenches dug for the film. Following soldiers through them, I believe it.
In Bong Joon Ho’s Parasite, the Kim family live in a small, filthy, basement apartment. There are stairs to up a toilet they have to crouch to sit on. It’s also the best place to get free WiFi. At their tiny table they drink beer, look up to the sidewalk and regularly see drunk men urinating right outside their window. They’re poor, take odd jobs and con jobs to survive. Then a friend brings them an odd rock that is supposed to bring wealth and the son, Ki-woo (Woo-sik Choi) fakes his way into becoming a tutor for the wealthy Park family. 
The Park family lives in a spacious, modern, beautiful house. Once on their property, it’s like living in a private oasis. The elevated yard’s treeline keeps the rest of the city out. As Ki-taek works with the family’s teenage daughter as an English tutor, he finds an opportunity to get his sister a tutoring job with their young son. Then the kids get their father working for the family, and then their mother. The Kims enjoy making money off the all too trusting Park family. Then… well you’ve just got to see this movie to believe what happens next. 
The writing in this film is phenomenal. The basic premise between rich and poor is engaging and sets the tone perfectly. Details like the way the Parks react to smell sear into our minds and affect how we perceive these characters. Every twist and unexpected turn is great, satisfying us in either elation, heartbreak or just shock. Every character is fleshed out and believable, never a simple caricature. Without giving too much away (cause seriously, do not spoil this film!) I love how there are no clear heroes or villains in this film. Every character is both flawed and sympathetic. There are great moments that make us laugh, turn away in horror and always hang on to every word. 
Parasite is nominated for six Academy Awards including Best Picture, international feature film, original screenplay, cinematography and film editing. Bong Joon-Ho earned his first nomination for director. Let’s be honest, Parasite has the international film award in the bag and possibly a few more.
As I write this, my dad is at Daytona for their 24 hour race. He is an avid race fan and thanks go him I grew up around racing and still enjoy the sport and spectacle today. Living in Indianapolis, the racing capital of the world, I find comfort and excitement in the sight and sound of a race car. On a good day, I could tell you the difference between an F1, Indycar, Nascar or dragster just on sound. Sitting in the theater watching Ford V Ferrari was great just for the noise. I have a feeling that the people around me enjoyed hearing the sounds of engines roaring in January and cannot wait until May. It could only sound more authentic if the theater could handle how truly loud these cars can be. 
But enough of my nostalgia. Ford v Ferrari focuses on two men as they strive to create a perfect racing machine. There’s the former driver and car designer, Carrol Shelby (Matt Damon), who continually butts heads as he tries to work with Mr. Henry Ford II (Tracy Letts) and his corporate suits. Then there’s his pick to be their lead driver, Ken Miles (Christian Bale). He’s an English wildcard with a wife (Caitriona Balfe, the only woman with actual lines in the film), a son who looks up to him and a failing business fixing foreign sports cars. He knows these sorts of cars inside and out and how to push them to their limits. Together Shelby and Miles work to make history in the world of racing and make Ford a contender. 
Even without the story elevating the drama, the racing scenes are stunning, exciting and visually spectacular. Whether you’re a racing fan, car nut or neither, this film makes you appreciate just how much ingenuity goes into these high performance machines and the cinematography makes us appreciate their beautiful designs. Often, the soundtrack during the racing sequences is a perfect rhythmic background, pushing us along with the cars, giving us a beat that keeps our hearts pumping and feeling Miles’ adrenaline in each turn. 
The Irishman is an epic mob drama by the master mob dramas, Martin Scorsese. Here, Frank Sheeran (Robert De Niro) narrates, elaborating on his various dealings and connections with the mob and the notorious Jimmy Hoffa (Al Pacino). The sprawling three and a half hour film takes us within the mob underworld, Hoffa’s rise and unravels the mystery behind Hoffa’s disappearance. 
De Niro, Pacino and Joe Pesci lead this film masterfully. The trio provides great chemistry and friction between their characters that keeps the film engaging. Their performances span decades of their respective characters, from young, eager men, raising and providing for their families in their own corrupt ways to older, slightly wiser and wearing their sins as heavy armor. The digital effects to take these actors in their seventies and make them appear much younger is done very well and does not feel awkward or fake like other film’s attempts. Moreover, it’s the little details in the way De Niro, Pacino and Pesci portray their characters at various stages in their life that makes their performances and characters to naturally believable. 
Visually this film is a modern beauty. Each shot is thoughtfully constructed. The color pallets are rich and strike a mood and tone to each time period. Some of my favorite moments were the slow-motion shots, which seemed extra striking colorful. The moment in a crowd with everyone reaching for an assassins gun felt like a renaissance painting in motion. 
The Academy has nominated The Irishman for an astounding ten Oscar awards. They include Best Picture, cinematography, adapted screenplay, costume design, production design, film editing and visual effects. Joe Pesci and Al Pacino are nominated for best supporting actor. And Martin Scorsese is nominated for best director for the ninth time.
The Best Picture Project 