✨ writer on film, music and queer culture ✨
Park Chan-wook's crime drama has no real resonant bite, nor did it give me the giddy feeling he usually gives me. The spark of promise dies out rather swiftly. The writing in its final act? Eek. This is a passable detective thriller, but my god, he is capable of so, so much more. My first real disappointment of the festival.
The Fabric of the Human Body: a documentary set in Paris hospitals about the violence our bodies inflict upon us and the people we enlist to save it. I've long been a fan of Lucien Castaing-Taylor and Véréna Paravel's collaborative work, and if Leviathan left me awestruck, this knocked the wind out of me.
Their familiar framing - long unbroken shots, shifting in and out of focus, so close you can barely decipher their subject - is present again here,…
When your parents are apart, by way of separation, death or any circumstance, I wonder if the way you split your love moves with it. I'm thinking if, before my mother's death, my love for my parents was carved down the middle, 50/50, or if it would change depending on who I was around at the time.
In Charlotte Wells' Aftersun, Sophie's love for her father weighs so heavily towards him, so doting and special, it's almost as if her…