Much as I didn't care for Triangle of Sadness, at least that had some structure to it. By comparison, The Square is such a shapeless, heedless and gormless spew of satire at its most adolescent. Precisely what you'd expect from an artist who thinks awareness of his own privilege will excuse his inability to do anything about the crappy world he inhabits.
A boring wheeze. Of course it won the fucking Palme d'Or.
We have Tetsuo: The Iron Man at home.
Ducournau has one hell of an eye, even if its leery, male-gaze-y quality feels more like a feature than a bug in the context of this tale of abuse leading to sexual and moral deviation (Yes, it's about trauma and cycles of violence, just like EVERYTHING ELSE).
How do you go from being impregnated by a car to dull domestic drama within the same film? There's no doubting the dedication of the…
Astonishing.
This retelling of the life of sean-nós singer Joe Heaney pisses on biopic convention from the heighest height. Cinematography, editing and music reflect Collins’ methodology: all pristine, but their eccentricities are never exploited or overused. A film about the little moments between possible dramas, told with confidence and absolute control.
The finest Irish film this century? B’fhéidir
Dave done it again.
Breaking down the protests to their barebones, it's eerie how much Dave sees of himself in current events. A pertinent reminder of how much systemic decisions can affect anyone and everyone of a particular hue.
Less laughs than usual (A given, perhaps), but Chappelle's skills as a storyteller are as sharp and enrapturing as ever. Keepin' it real the way he knows how.
