Black Bear (2020)

 

When a movie director visits a couple living in a lake side cabin, to get away. Tragedy comes to light, beyond the appearance of a hungry black bear.

 Director Lawrence Michael Levine creates an explorative poignant Dramedy thriller, satirizing the predictable, obvious nature of Independent films and Mumblecore dramas, while making a unique Mumblecore drama himself.

 Black Bear starts off somber and suspicious leading us into a direction of what we think the movie is about - infidelity between couples - but becomes something entirely more organic to its core. Starting off as one thing and ending as another, but in the most honest way without a need to shock element, like a film classic such as; Fat Girl (2001). Black Bear over all is about unfaithfulness but at its core is truly about what makes infidelity such an important topic of decision in Indie films and Indie films alike? And why do most Independent films end so abruptly before have a chance to actually end? Course these questions are easily answered due to monetary and resourceful restraints, but which Black Bear highlights in exposing the absurdity and off-putting instincts of such films by a Duplass Brothers, Lynn Shelton or a Joe Swanberg who are all obvious worshippers of the unmentionable Woody Allen. Black Bear knows such storylines are one in the same and only hold water once successful in rarity and repeated scripts alike. That the creativity in said films only lies in its self-involved dialogue but not it’s necessity or it’s execution.

 

Director/ Writer Lawrence Michael Levine needed it to be said that Mumblecore directors are up their own asses while they ignore the expansion of film due to the financial shackles of Hollywood. Most of all there is life beyond film and three traditionally good-looking white people, pushing the boundaries of what they can and can’t morally do or say within the confines of a log cabin. Yet us Mumbleheads, wouldn’t have it any other way. 8/10.

 

 

• Maurice Jones

 

 

 

Kajillionaire (2020)

While a poor disenfranchised white family of three spend their time stealing and scheming to avoid employment, they run into Melanie (played by Gina Rodriguez); a young friendly excitable woman of colour, of which with her charismatic charm, brings the family of three to life. When the families only child and daughter - Old Dolio (played by Evan Rachel Wood) starts to notice her parents taking a liking to Melanie, Old Dolio’s purpose, upbringing and sexuality comes into question.

Director Miranda July is no stranger to creating bizarre, provocative, contemplative yet heart warming premises to films about love, mortality, youth, death and legacy, and Kajillionaire is no different but might be her best and most effective to date.

Kajillionaire is a portrait of privilege, fundamentally about an older generation refusing to admit to a future generation’s potential and talent, while ignoring the impact that the older generations decisions has made on the path of future generations. Leaving future generations with nothing but their compassion and empathy. A point all to real in this day and age as millennial generations such as my own, have struggled to put a foot on this world using methods our parents could only benefit from. As the Only Fans accounts start popping up everywhere and ride shares are continuing to be prevalent; these community minded ways of income are the staples to newer generations survival due to impossible school loans and stubborn society norms passed down from more privileged generations. Kajillionaire is also about racial privilege, Old Dolio’s parents (played by Richard Jenkins and Debra Winger) live a life of theft under a white Caucasian bubble (ironically bubbles being a plot point in the movie). Kajillionaire points out the parody of a white protagonist in a comedy film, committing crime without thought of what this scenario would be like for a protagonist of colour. As the films plot goes on, the parents use Melanie to carry out new schemes leaving Melanie to reminder them that her being a person of colour committing a crime is riskier than for them, and ignoring the general racism she has to endure in order to help them. The film continues to point out the selfishness of the parents as they make hyperbole out of common occurrences such as; earthquakes and possible plane mishaps; mirroring older generations making grand comparisons about their past circumstances to future generations current circumstances.

As the main protagonist, Old Dolio comes to realize her parents haven’t been there for her as she once thought. And through her jealously of/conflict with Melanie, she learns to grow and encounter the world she wanders and schemes in, and what a stable experience feels like and what real family feels like, as she realizes being a part of a project isn’t what life has to be constantly. That her potential is interwoven with a passionate for life, though stifled by her parent’s dark cynicism. Old Dolio finds love through genuine relatability and companionship, not tribe, as many Millennials have come to find out.

Kajillionaire touches upon themes we’ve been dealing with as a society in reality with our current climates almost instinctually. Older white people demanding for rights they already have, with corrupt state of minds as they abuse others and crack the whip where they see fit but search out sympathy as soon as they break the law themselves. These generations so jaded and past their time, that they can’t change enough to stop taking from people who just got here under the thumb of capitalism, 

 

Evan Rachel Wood does her best comedic and best work in general as a character we haven’t seen in any movie, so shy and timid and androgynous with a muffled voice more and more hilarious the more excited her character gets. Richard Jenkins and Debra Winger sell their awkward creepy and demanding parent character to the tee. With Debra Winger unrecognizable and fantastic as Old Dolio’s mother. And Gina Rodriguez completely shines as Melanie, bringing a realistic warmth, fun and quirky maturity to the rest of the cast.

 

Kajillionaire is an extremely timely and much needed heist tale that is one of the funniest, charming movies of the year, proving Miranda July’s expanding talent as a writer/director, which has become well crafted over the years, within subject matter and comedic timing alike. As well as having an ear and vision for the bizarre with vivid colours and characters and inventive ideas, though we are now living in an era where her films are no longer bizarre but our reality. 10/10.

 

 

• Maurice Jones

First Cow (2020)

When a hired shy American born cook in the 1800s America, named Cookie (played by John Magaro), protects a recently moved, confident Chinese immigrant - King Lu (played by Orion Lee) from being murdered; they form a quick friendship. Both being outsiders in various ways; they learn to depend on each other, through food and capitalism.

Kelly Reichardt’s seventh feature film - First Cow, finds her exploring current and forever ongoing topics of our time - Immigration, race relations and the fallacy of the “American Dream”, while telling a story that at its core is about true friendship and how it forms. Not a new subject to Reichardt with her films Old Joy (2006), Wendy and Lucy (2008) and River of Grass (1994); but with First Cow Reichardt adds a political bent with her two main characters, one being Chinese and one being American going into business together, and making the poignant commentary of America’s relationship with China.

Throughout the film King Lu and Cookie bond, sharing their dreams and aspirations, and come to the conclusion to create a trademark food item and sell it after King Lu discovers Cookie’s signature dish of scones. Unknown yet as a food item in 1800s America, the two entrepreneurs make a killing, by having shy cook Cookie make the scones, and the confidence and eagerness of King Lu to sell them to Americans with a charming ease and hopeful nostalgic words. These scenes displaying the reality of China towards America for decades, selling cheaper and more urgent goods to Americans online and through trade, even including bootleg items. King Lu is also excited to be on new land and in America, and to take advantage of a new opportunity as oppose to Cookie, who is absolutely jaded and held back on his dreams, but who’s nostalgic of his upbringing. This touching upon the idea that immigrants actually love America being outsiders of it and born Americans being the ones fed up with America being raised in it. As First Cow goes along, the commentary swells of how America’s corruption is very present and unavoidable, as King Lu informs American born Cookie that for them to succeed, they need to do undesirable things or they’ll never have an advantage.

Kelly Reichardt does perfect masterful work with First Cow, installing her style that appropriately fits this subject matter, that allows for a meaningfully slow charming film about friendship and entrepreneurship; all the while quietly displaying the chilling context of America/Chinese trade agreements and the strong hold of capitalism on our lives. Like an Art House Buddy Cop movie, First Cow is a somber classic that evokes us to the past and holds us to the reality of the present. Regardless of it all, First Cow reminds that there’s nothing like the bond of two people and two souls, in harmony. 9/10.

• Maurice Jones

Guest of Honour (2019)

When music teacher, Veronica, (played by Laysla De Oliveira) is released from jail after being accused of statutory rape; she is delivered the unfortunate news that her food inspector father has passed away (played by David Thewlis). While dealing with the funeral arrangements, Veronica is forced to understand who her father was, through the counselling of a soft-spoken priest (played by Luke Wilson).

Atom Egoyan is the master of thread pulling dramatic narratives of past discovery. With Exotica (1994), The Sweet Hereafter (1997) and Remember (2015); Atom Egoyan has an infamous reputation of telling stories about regret and forbidden intentions and pleasures, under the umbrella of the creepy unknown. With Guest of Honour (2019), Atom Egoyan explores one’s reputation, power and childhood trauma over the back drop of his own ethnic background of Egypt. Displaying Canada’s huge connection to the Middle East with its food culture, and Egoyan’s parents own immigration to Canada, and possible solitude in the food industry as Armenians.

Guest of Honour is about true intentions covered up by status and words, abuse of power, trauma, PTSD, Canada’s multicultural expanse expressed through its food industry, jealousy, first love obsession and the complicated relationship with food prep and living animals, pedophilia, parental carelessness, bad child development due to parental neglect, boy/Woman statutory rape, revenge, following societal rules, job identity, spirituality and acceptance.

What makes Guest of Honour’s dark perspective interesting, is the idea of food, celebration, religion and music being the glue throughout the picture, that reminds you of the humanity of the characters, who can care and love for something other than greed or betrayal. Music especially plays an important role, being the catalyst of the film’s plot and the continuity as well; music also being a therapy of its protagonist and a resolve by the films end.

The thread of David Thewlis as the food inspector father, poignantly projects the similarity between food, mythos, focus and tradition. The idea that I’ve can’t experience another culture’s food, without coming into contact with its history and meaning that brought it there. The truth of the matter, that many have taken for granted the different food cultures immigrated into cosmopolitan countries, and careless consider the people behind it; such as - supporting ICE yet consuming Mexican food.

Being Canadian myself, Atom Egoyan’s films have always giving me a sense of comfort, even when dealing with difficult uncomforting subject matter. Guest of Honour accordingly follows suit; as Egoyan’s films are usually about family, self discovery and virtue across the plans of my peaceful home country of Canada. Guest of Honour is classic Atom Egoyan, while being one of his most personal films so far, and one of his most at peace. 8/10.

• Maurice Jones

Capone (2020)

A mentally diseased Al Capone (played by Tom Hardy) starts to relive his past in regret, as his diagnosed Neurosyphilis takes hold; all the while being spied on by the FBI on his Florida mansion estate.

Josh Trank’s Capone is a clear passion project, examining the final years of Al Capone’s life in the most visionary and creepy of ways; turning Capone into probably the first “gangster-horror” movie in recent memory. Capone treats Al Capone’s illness as an avalanche of impacting but violently disturbed ghosts, haunting his mansion and his mind as he rotted and decayed in his final moments; taking his family down with him. Al Capone is displayed here by Trank and Hardy, as the lynch pin of all his friends and family, and the reality sets in that when Al Capone crumbles, everybody else does too. Capone sells home the pain Al Capone’s illness put his family threw, and ultimately how his crimes; that got him his empire, was the end of it all from the beginning. The film doesn’t back away from the experience one has and witnesses going through dementia or treating someone with dementia. Ignoring Mafia film genre restraints, Capone practically displays Al’s bed defecating, sudden urination and irritable bole syndrome; leading to immense flatulence in front of an FBI investigator. Capone welcomes the silly moments (including a vegetable cigar) to tell the full story, even at the risk of a classic over the top Tom Hardy performance; that in the end accurately sells the point home of Al’s struggle. Al Capone, the most feared gangster of his time, soon comes to fear his own crew and reverts back to childhood films to regain some much-needed comfort in his sickness. Remembering himself as a boy, all the while cursing everyone around him, including his wife. Capone expresses that it possibly took an illness to force humanity within Al; even if it created hatred towards his family in return. One of the biggest points the film makes, is the contrast between the disgustingly ugly paranoid outrageous slog of Al’s last days, and the beautiful Floridian landscape that held it all. As to the interesting sense that as Al Capone retired to sitting in a chair and spiting all over himself, came he’s vulnerability, and in that vulnerability came the FBI; like the Mafia Al once orchestrated, long ago.

Trank uses expert directing patience, carefully crafting this unsettling character study without over doing the “gangster” elements, that most Mafia pictures can’t avoid. Though this version of Al Capone isn’t in his right mind, Trank doesn’t shy away from close ups of Al Capone’s bloodshot eyes and various scars, as Al Capone stews in his real assumptions and derangements. Many of Trank’s signature darkness and grim special effects is sprinkled plenty throughout the film; akin to Chronicle (2011) and Fantastic Four (2015), giving the film a much further uniqueness amongst its genre, apart from Tom Hardy’s committed performance.

Tom Hardy does extremely fun yet focused work as Al Capone. Going from cartoonish to villainous to meek and mild. With a gurglingly, crunchy voice, immense prosthetics, cigar glued to the lips, bloodshot contacts and a fake receding hairline; at first seems absolutely silly with a rage filled performance, and a flatulence scene of fake fart noises; but as scenes progress, Tom Hardy captures that grim portrayal of a person’s dark and sorry soul, trapped in a body ready to explode with remorse and anguish. Though Tom Hardy isn’t the only one who shines in this mild epic - Linda Cardellini does her best work since Freak and Geeks (1999), playing Al Capone’s wife Mae; powerfully embodying a woman at the end of her rope, haggardly displaying absolute pain, stress, anger and worry, throughout the whole picture through her face alone.

Once Capone comes to a close, you more and more realize that there’s no going back. Knowing Al Capone had it coming to him in the first place, there’s a slight irony to it all; but eventually coming to the point that ‘what comes up, must come down’ in the most fascinating way possible for Al Capone. 8/10.

• Maurice Jones

Possessor (2020)

In the near future, a private organization that specializes in body takeover assimilate assassinations, runs into a major problem when their top assassin (played by Andrea Riseborough), is trapped in the body of a host who’s conscious.

Possessor is the sophomore effort by Brandon Cronenberg; son of David Cronenberg. And the similarities definitely do not stop at last names. Possessor is a moody and dark visionary metaphor of the world we live in today with our relationship to technology and what it really means to us. Wrapped in violent brutal assassinations and cringe worthy skin to technology penetration in a downtown Toronto landscape; Possessor is practically a ‘brand new’ David Cronenberg film. However, one important difference between David and Brandon is how they see their characters. David Cronenberg sees his protagonists going towards something they don’t understand without hesitation or carefulness, and they ultimately end up in fatal trouble when they’ve gone too far. Brandon Cronenberg’s Possessor treats its protagonist as more aware and concerned with the mission at task and what it requires. The tension of the film comes from the idea that Tasya (played by Andrea Riseborough) is worried that her job will soon betray her, and that she might not be able to cross an important obstacle with taking over one’s mind and body to commit an assassination. Oppose his dad, Brandon Cronenberg seems to want his protagonist to succeed but learn something from an intense tragedy or mishap. This somehow makes a more relatable leap between the idea of the world we live in and technology, more so than David Cronenberg intends to do with his films; as the bleakness is lessened with vague optimism.

Possessor is quite the allegory to fear of job loss, job status and economic status while making a clever commentary on the fact that as citizens we trade our privacy for products to major companies like it’s nothing. The body takeover is definitely a clear metaphor of privacy takeover and controlled advertised decision making; ie - Facebook. Tasya in Possessor is self conscious and unsure, leading to mistake after mistake, but also leading her to use the host she’s occupied, to lash out for the host in their perspective; but as a therapy for herself. This metaphor lends to the transgender experience of being in a body not related to who you are on the inside, and the catfish phenomenon of pretending to be someone else online with a fake photo and profile, to experience oneself in a way without rejection; or to lure someone into a relationship under false pretenses.

Brandon Cronenberg paints a world where we learn what it is to be in someone’s shoes, literally. It serves as a reminder that the individual is the most important part to humanities survival. Not a corporation or empire, no matter how much they may convince you otherwise.

Possessor is a much-needed recent entry in the Cronenberg family of technological horror. One that hits home now, more than ever. 9/10.

• Maurice Jones

Bad Education (2020) - Stanley Kubrick’s Election

Based on a true crime in 2002, where a high school superintendent and vice superintendent stole millions in taxpayer dollars on self goods, covering their spending with false company names in the schools accounting – Hugh Jackman plays Frank Tassone the superintendent in question, and Allison Janney plays Pam Gluckin the vice superintendent, in this real tale about white privilege, under appreciation of teachers and capitalism.

You may think Bad Education is another cheap comedic entry in the “Bad” title of movies, that started with Bad Santa but you’d be wrong. Bad Education is an intelligent carefully crafted story based on a true story about sociopathy and greed but coming from the perspective of teachers in the reality that they deserve more than what they’re offered; being the touchstone of all of our education that leads us to proper adulthood. Instead teachers are forgotten and beyond unappreciated despite their crucial importance to the world at large. The films about hiding who you really are in cover to project the stereotype of the All-American authority figure, even at the cost of hiding in the closet as Frank feels he must do to gain respect as a gay man, especially in 2002. Bad Education subtly but accurately touches on the idea of White-Collar crime, and reveals the reality that in real life Frank Tassone received a $173,000 payday severance, even after committing fraud and being released from jail. Bad Education in humanity sense, is about how far greed takes you, no matter how much you feel you deserve a reward even if you take from everyone else.

Director Cory Finley is not afraid to create blunt characters and play out situations in an unclothe way and but realistically. This is Cory Finley’s most mature work yet and places his debut Thoroughbreds as a warm up to the big leagues with Bad Education. The direction quietly observes the characters and their choices, from slowly zoomed out frames very reminiscent of Stanley Kubirk’s technique, with stagnant shots of biting unflinching conversation, and matter of fact dialogue that unveils the real horror right before your eyes; ie – The Shining (1980). All this mixed with the bitingly sardonic aesthetic and outlook of Alex Payne’s Election (1999).

Like Thoroughbreds Bad Education’s ending is surreal, but this time the point is clear and makes a powerful impact when all the characters choices are made and all things are said and done. Bad Education will be seen as a classic in years time, exposing the truth of a corrupt school system and White-Collar greed, but truly will be Cory Finley’s masterpiece, looking back. 9/10.

-         -  Maurice Jones

Arkansas (2020) - Bad, Boring Coen Brothers

I like Clark Duke, especially during his days on Clark and Michael, but his film writing/directing debut Arkansas, is a hollow, tired, lazy mess of a crime dramady buddy picture, that feels like someone just saw a Coen brothers movie and thought it was enough to fix up a first draft with an ensemble cast including John Malkovich, and ignore tone, balance and meaning from a movie that’s more swallow and pointlessly reckless than a slip n slide. Not to mention Clark Duke seems to think displaying a man harassing a girl into dating him is romantic and that calling it out as creepy makes it okay. Side note - The film shows Clark Duke thinks women should be portrayed as stupid and helpless.

Arkansas comes in chapters, and chapter 2 and chapter 4 are the best because they both feel like a different film from the rest of it. A better film, one where Vince Vaughan plays a drug dealer in the 1980s who will soon meet his brutal end - Now that’s a movie. Instead we have to go back to the other chapters where Clark Duke and Liam Hemsworth have to bore us to death with self assured tacky dialogue based on a plot every beginner film student has dreamt of. Absolute nonsense that can only work if you don’t have your head entirely up your narcissistic incel ass.

I like Liam Hemsworth. He’s convincing in everything he does but along Clark Duke and this bad rip-off script, I feel bad for him because he deserves better. And who is insane enough as Clark Duke to direct and star in a movie that requires real emotion and conviction to give importance to, that Clark Duke himself can NEVER deliver as the fourth in the Hot Tub Time Machine movies. Sad. And Clark, the score for this film doesn’t help your cause and putting the Flaming Lips in a scene, just so you can film yourself enjoying them is fucking weird. Knock it off.

With a talented cast, Arkansas unfortunately is a waste of massive portions, and makes me sad and apathetic towards independent film of this kind. Thank you for the let down, Clark. Skip Arkansas. 4/10.

P.S. Taking from the school of writing and directing from Bradley Cooper, in that you off yourself as a character to give the film meaning and depth, is emotionally bankrupt and demented, not to mention extremely insulting to the audience. Again - Knock it off, Clark.

• Maurice Jones

Variety (1983) - What If Travis Bickle Was A Woman?

When a naive girl named Christine (played by Sandy McLeod); down on her luck in 1980’s New York City; decides to take on a job at a porno cinema as a ticket taker; her self inflicted boredom leads her into a dangerous investigation.

1983’s Variety directed by Bette Gordon is most definitely the female take on Taxi Driver. As Travis Bickle is the creepy male counterpart misanthrope, who’s in need of a job, deciding to drive Taxi’s and taking people where they need to go, all the while noticing what he hates the most about New York City and taking his obsession of a woman to the idea that she’ll love him if he proves himself worthy. Christine on the other hand, is a more sympathetic character, she doesn’t look down on the New York City or anyone. Christine already knows her worth and through the female perspective Christine’s obsession with a man is about what’s wrong with the man himself as oppose proving herself to get the man to care. Variety paints a picture of a world where Christine’s innocence exposures the unfortunate cynicism of males and people alike. Christine gets preyed upon and gocked at just being a ticket taker at a cinema and has to watch her back constantly, while Travis Bickle is the predator and no matter how much he feels put upon, he’s still very much the one who would prey upon Christine. Ironically enough, Travis Bickle in Taxi Driver frequents a porno theatre daily as a place of solace, as Variety shows with Christine’s customers. In a way Travis Bickle spends his time waiting to control a woman as Christine spends her time trying not to be controlled by a man. Taxi Driver displays that power generally consumes men, as men being the main proprietors of power in the world. As Variety displays that women generally have love in their hearts, and would rather spend their time learning and understanding a person or system, than dominate it. Variety is the answer to the clumsy masculinity of Taxi Driver, and is much more heartbreaking and unique. Both though are great films exposing the common flaws of capitalism and the woes of loneliness, but out of the two, Variety was ahead of it’s time. 9/10. Check out Variety (1983).

• Maurice Jones

Never Rarely Sometimes Always (2020)

When a talented Pennsylvania teen named Autumn (played by Sidney Flanigan) finds out she’s pregnant, she has no choice but to go to an abortion clinic in New York City with her cousin Skylar (played by Talia Ryder), when Autumn realizes she has no support in her small Pennsylvania town.

Eliza Hittman’s third feature film Never Rarely Sometimes Always is a harrowing, heartbreaking, matter of fact, absorbing observation of teen pregnancy in rural Pennsylvania. Shot Guerilla style under a grey color plate of grey/gloomy skies, Eliza Hittman accurately captures the mundane limitations of Autumn’s life. To her abusive ex boyfriend, her busy/ removed mother, her abrasive disinterested step father, and her empty grocery store job. The camera stays with Autumn at every frame displaying her thoughts straight from her face, as she tries to comprehend the situation she’s trapped in, while keeping it all from her family. This is a character study of a broken girl who’s in a desperate place; Autumn is a girl whom loves to sing and write music, but without support and love when in need of an abortion, being a teenage makes that choice even harder. Never Rarely Sometimes Always properly depicts how a teenage would handle getting an abortion in New York City from rural Pennsylvania. From not having a place to stay to sleeping on the subway waiting for an appointment, to not having the money for the procedure, to discovering the next to impossible steps that need to be taken in getting an abortion from how long the procedure takes to the questions that need to be asked to a patient for their own well being. Eliza Hittman’s film also looks set in 2007, but that’s cause that’s how life is in certain rural Pennsylvania towns. Things aren’t as affordable or adaptable with current items and looks due to the economic state of a town, which gives an interesting insight within the film about the assumptions of all of America and the expectations of all pregnancy clinics in America as well.

Never Rarely Sometimes Always is importantly about the historical and systematic forcefulness towards young women and women in general, to do things they don’t want to do for the pleasure of others, especially for men. Whether it be to have sex, take a wage decrease or to be banned from getting an abortion or forced into getting one. Women/girls have always been forced into something with disregard towards their well being and will. Never Rarely Sometimes Always shines a sobering, disturbing light on those ongoing facts of society, as well within the pregnancy clinic community, exposing the truth that some clinics don’t want women to have an abortion and give them false information to delay the process of getting an abortion. Sad but true. Never Rarely Sometimes Always wants us to feel Autumn’s pain in the abortion system but also wants us to remember that Autumn is a teenage. A teenage with hopes and dreams and a creative spirit that will always be there when times are at their toughest.

Sidney Flanigan is an incredible actress that will no doubt be seen in many great roles to come. Her attention to detail when showing hurt, pain, apathy or happiness through her face, is extremely accurate, and her depiction of a teenager with unsure questions and bashful secrecy and having a wall up, feels too real. On top of that Sidney Flanigan’s singing voice is a treasure you’ll be glad to be exposed to, and her singing in the film is the shining light amongst the film’s gloomy oppressive atmosphere. The whole cast is incredible, including Autumn’s cousin Skyler played by Talia Ryder, who plays Autumn’s one and only support, helping and leading Autumn to her appointments and making sure things work out, even to her own physical expense. The acting is real as can be and has reminiscent feels of certain Canadian film making and of the Guerrilla style of directors Harmony Korine or Gary Burns.

Never Rarely Sometimes Always is beyond powerful, and though about a depressing but important subject matter, involving depressing scenes; The film is ultimately about the teenage spirit and female bond, empowerment and support, in a world where women face abuse from every which way from men of all kinds, and with the fact that we live in a society where women/girls can have their rights taken away from them at a moments notice. Never Rarely Sometimes Always will leave you sobered and heartbroken, but informed knowing some of the scary/overwhelming ins and outs of pregnancy/abortion politics that keep women from living the life they choose, on the hard headed/bullshit “Pro Life” side of things, and the importance of abortion clinics existing in general. Eliza Hittman though, leaves us with the important feeling of two teen girls who support each other through thick and thin, giggling it out through impossible feats.  10/10. The best film of 2020.

-          - Maurice Jones

Vivarium (2020) The romantic dramedy version of Cube

When couple Gemma and Tom go house searching, they stumble upon an idyllic housing neighbourhood that looks as identical as the next house and as it’s next house. Pulled into the promise of their would-be home being ideal forever, Gemma and Tom soon learn a lesson in starting the Nuclear Family, as they soon realize they can’t seem to physically leave the neighbourhood they just visited.

Lorcan Finnegan’s and Garrett Shanley’s Vivarium is an immediate allegory for a hetero couple settling down before they’re ready, and having kids in suburbia amongst the ever-changing housing market. Going through the motions of raising a family, the cliché of adult hood and parenthood and your kids becoming the negative parts of you.  Your independence is stolen from you when having a child.  Preventing your kids from watching tv all day. The father getting away from the family and the mother being the main caretaker thus their relationship moving apart, as the father -figure becomes traditionally the abusive parent of the two, seeing a child as a threat to his Manhood. 

Lorcan Finnegan’s direction in Vivarium uses Irish sensibilities and comedic dryness, displaying a grey disposition amongst a clean green neighbourhood landscape of fake pink clouds, primary blue skies and green spotless grassy yards. This style creates a biting, sharp templates for the satirical conversations the film contemplates, between Gemma and Tom; A rejection of perfection in Suburbia, the young taking over the old, retired being another word for dead, the idea people raised in suburbs are sent out to inhabit cities with the same regurgitated values of their broken parents, continuing corporate structure in a capitalist wheel of profit from assembly line fixtures. Though these ideas are a little on the nose, they are effective, and the films focus is intended and poignant on the truth about the societal pressures of housing, marriage and kids.

Vivarium has touches and attributes of films reminiscent of David Lynch’s Eraserhead (1977), in the idea of an exaggerated degree of parenthood, expressing the extreme transformation from not having a child to having a child and the fear, trials and tribulations of parenthood. All presented in a comedic yet disturbing and sardonically odd, manic and twisted picture; much like a Twilight Zone or Black Mirror. As the Vivarium goes on, your feel the anxiety and anger encroach upon Gemma and Tom as they bicker between each other like a married couple, and then notice hopelessness and drain become them.

Imogen Poots and Jesse Eisenberg do perfect work, with Jesse Eisenberg at his darkest acting yet since The Squid and The Whale (2007) and The Social Network (2010). And Imogen Poots finally gets to shine in her original British dialect, as strong as can be in a lead role that takes her from optimistic, frustrated, strategic, apathetic, determined and defeated in another great horror adjacent role.

Vivarium is perfect parts dark and satirical, classically telling a tale about something most of us go through or will go through. The type of satire that expands the Horror/SciFi genre and makes it better, as well as being the exact fuel both genres thrive on. Kids aren’t easy, finding the perfect home isn’t easy and neither is marriage. Lorcan Finnegan’s direction and Garrett Shanley’s screenplay conjure up the right pin point of what going through these milestones of society, feel like on the inside. Vivarium reminds us that genre pictures can never die as they are the glue of films that not only entertain us, but make us think. Vivarium is a must watch for any genre fan and especially for anyone trying to buy a house and start a family. 8/10.

-        -   Maurice Jones

THE CHANGE: Standing Up, Falling Down (2020) V. Bloodshot (2020) – A film essay

As times change movies are expected to be a little more aware of the world we live in and the people that live in it. This is definitely more expected of mainstream films as they reach a wider audience through and through - this however leaves most independent film to wallow in its our filth if no one is really watching, especially now a days. This hasn’t been clearer than with recent releases - Standing Up, Falling Down (2020) and Bloodshot (2020).

Back in the day, you could rely on indie dramedies to share a important social message that brings certain struggles to light, mainly because indie films don’t have to rely on pleasing the public, but a certain subsection of indie films have become increasingly stagnant and offensively antiquated - Standing Up, Falling Down (2020) for instance is about a young white male protagonist who is trying to find himself, while living back with his parents, while getting the girl and having a black best friend for support; i.e. the David O. Russell Oscar nominated king of all these - Silver Linings Playbook (2012). This very tired and pointless formula positions women as prizes, relationships as escapes and minorities as characters white people look down on,

to laugh at, to educate about their own culture to and to treat as servants; i.e. - a scene where the joke is that an Indian man working as a subordinate to the protagonists sisters, is casually treated like dirt and seen as goofy and weird because he has an Indian accent; as if it was necessary to the film makers to have a character that has an accent, so that dumb white people viewing the movie can laugh. Another strange scene features Billy Crystal asking an Asian man if he wants to sing, Domo Arigato Mr Roboto by Styx at Karaoke - this isn’t too subtle. In an earlier scene, Billy Crystal tells two black characters what “real” Hip Hop is. These tone-deaf excuses for “funny” scenes paint the picture that some independent films have chosen to go the way of the 90's/2000's romantic comedy, where white people are the ones who matter and where there is no need to do anything different.

Bloodshot (2020) - What would seem to be a big dumb mindless action film, and it is. Bloodshot is at least mindful enough to feature a brown person of color as the protagonist, a brown female as the female lead and several side characters whom are black and brown people of color, and guess what? Aren’t used as stereotypes and/or treated to elevate the protagonist with their ethnic backgrounds. Bloodshot has an East Indian computer genius, a black computer genius at the helm, and a completely platonic relationship between the male protagonist and the female lead - Also not to mention the film is extremely entertaining to boot. How is a film made for teenagers, designed to make millions and starring Vin Diesel, more responsible and morally sound than an indie flick starring Billy Crystal about finding your true voice? This, maybe the change we’ve been seeing in mainstream movies like: Get Out (2017), Black Panther (2018), Yesterday (2019), Escape Room (2019), Spider-Man: Far from Home (2019), Star Wars: The Force Awakens (2015), etc. These film trends have been bringing ethnic identity and ethnic normality to the front of pop culture, pushing the reality that everyone no matter what race, is the lead, the villain and the best friend, free of the limitations of stereotypes and harmful old school scenarios involving people of color in film.

Independent film Standing Up, Falling Down seems like it was made in the mid-2000's, and is a relic of where we use to be in film, but more importantly the mainstream has begun to catch up intelligently, and therefore between the two, Bloodshot is shockingly the better film in a world where indies are still seen as the only intelligence and progression in cinema.

• Maurice Jones

The Assistant (2020)

Robert Egger’s The Lighthouse (2019) displayed workplace struggles in the Horror genre, but Kitty Green’s The Assistant (2020) displays the horrors of the workplace in the real life genre.





When Jane (played by Julia Garner), an entry level secretary at a production office, goes about her stressful and degrading tasks, her concerns rise, as evidence piles up that her boss is taking advantage of young women who dream to be actors.





Kitty Green’s debut full length feature is the ultimate combination of her past documentary features, all based on the objectification and gaslighting of young women in the entertainment industry. The Assistant patiently displays an entire day of college student Jane, as she comes to grips with the disturbing reality that her boss uses young women for his own pleasure, promising them their dreams. Underpaid and under appreciated, Jane has to show up first and leave last at her entry level office job that shes constantly told to be thankful to have. As she cleans up after everyone, covers up for her boss and endures constantly taunting and belittlement from her male coworkers, Jane discovers that there is no reward in going to College or working towards your dream job, and people will take advantage of their positions in a company because they can. The Assistant reminds us that money has a strong on hold on us all, that were forced to take an opportunity if it means survival, and the most vulnerable are students and young women. These scenarios for these demographics lead to being talked down to and being gaslit, by “higher ups” who should know better who just wanted to cover their financial gain and positions for better or for worse. What’s so frightening in The Assistant, is that it’s subject matter is reality, and the protagonists involved can’t do a thing about it in these workplace/film institutions, where analyizing a woman's looks is paramount . This is what makes #metoo such an important movement, as it not only protects young women and women alike but confronts workplace abuse and gaslighting in general.





Julia Garner does perfect work playing an entry level worker going through the motions of her day to day in an office, and awkwardly and timidly dealing with the heinous and apathetic actions of her co workers and bosses in the cold backdrop of the film industry. Julia Garner accurately matches the mood and tone of the films direction and colour plate, of greyish green tint among thankless and carelessly sardonic characters, as Jane drowns in a sea of hopelessness and numbing. 


Kitty Green's direction is key as she even takes an interesting notion with clothing, using Jane's outer wear as somewhat protection from lechery in a scene with an HR representive that turns into a gaslighting attack, and ends in belittlement with the shaming of a scarf.





Kitty Green’s frighteningly yet calmingly sobering The Assistant is a reminder that everyone who gets taken advantage of in the workplace is somebody’s mother, father, son, daughter, parent, loved one and/or child. And the importance of change is so everyone has protection and solace under the law, and amongst decent people wherever they are. The Assistant is 2020's first important film of the year. 9/10.

• Maurice Jones

One Sentence Reviews: Parasite (2019)

Best Picture Award Winner Parasite is ultimately about the push and pull between the rich and the poor and how that dynamic will never end due to Capitalism. What a nightmare. 9/10.


- Maurice Jones

1917 (2019)

If the Irishman is about the passage of time ,1917 is about the immediate passage of time.

When British two soldiers stationed during World War One, are ordered to send a message to a battalion of 1600 British soldiers to stop an ambush by the German army. For the two Soldiers, the distance of the journey is the least of it. 

Sam Mendes’ 1917 is the most realistic World War One theme park ride you’ll attend at the movies, with bombs going off you can feel, deafening shots you can absorb and real fear you carry for it’s two protagonists who are carefully walking the grim terrain of No Man’s Land. This paired with the idea of one shot, Roger Deakin’s sparklingly haunting cinematography and the co-writing of Krysty Wilson-Ciarns story of the human spirit and experience, 1917 is the saviour of cinema. 

Created into one shot, 1917 makes the rest of the film as it goes on, feel like memories of the protagonists as your following the protagonists so closely and succinctly. You feel apart of them and as their experience, the film feels like those moments when you’ve driven somewhere and you can’t remember the drive, or when you find something you’ve been looking for and you can’t fathom how you found it. The experience is scary there being only two characters you’re following, knowing these soldiers are hungry and impatience, and when it’s all said and done, you imagine this being in this time period more, and outside of it you ask, how is this film making possible. 

1917 is very much about the grip of the military forcing you to do things you shouldn’t in the malice of grain, but it ultimately adding up to nothing. The emotion is there from moment to moment as you know these soldiers deserve to be home with their loved ones as oppose working towards sudden death in the name of a country. 10/10.


- Maurice Jones