Letterboxd — Your life in film

As we enter summer, with increasing ambiguity, I can't help but think of Eric Rohmer's Le Rayon Vert and the existential dread that's beautifully portrayed by Sophie Maintigneux's 16mm cinematography. The film follows a Parisian secretary who finds herself lost and drifting between summer plans she banefully can't commit to, searching for purpose and escape from her self-imposed solitude which isolates and defines her. The last scene where we witness the optical phenomena that happen around the moment of sunset or sunrise, "the green ray" is probably one of my favorite scenes in cinema, one that haunts and calms at the same time.

Nor the stills or trailer do justice to this highly immersive documentary that follows a nocturnal commercial fishing trip in the North Atlantic. A refreshing contrast to contemporary documentaries that often rely on gimmicks to keep your attention. As someone that struggles with experimental cinema (purely from an attention standpoint), Leviathan captured me in a way that I hadn’t been in years - as if I was uncomfortably watching the remnants of my own scattered memories of a reality that wasn’t mine.

I know this is an intense adjective to put to a film and should be used sparingly - but this film is a masterpiece. Every shot is so thoughtfully framed and perfectly captures the mood of the arc as the story and relationships progress. The acting is also perfect and it’s so fun watching a young Huppert.

A deeply nuanced and accurate portrayal of a modern relationship. Slow and at times excruciating, Everyone Else is one of those films that won’t leave you the same (and gets better as it lingers on your mind).

This 40 minute documentary covers the aftermath of the Tōhoku earthquake and tsunami, one of the most brutal tragedies in Japan’s history, but it’s also a story about searching for hope during a rebirth. It’s one of the most beautifully composed documentaries I’ve ever seen and it’s theme of rebuilding in the midst of epic devastation feels more relevant than ever right now.

We saw this short documentary together for the first time a few years ago and we had an over-joyous post-Varda glow for hours after the credits rolled. It's such a fun, visually striking, personal family portrait - it might be some of the most lighthearted 19 minutes you'll experience during your quarantine movie-watching.

I'd been searching for a film like this to watch in isolation and was so satisfied to finally find it in I Am Not A Witch. It's fantasy fiction but thematically there's an eerie familiarity, with the perfect balance of comedy and tragedy. There's a clear synergy between the direction and cinematography, with Rungano Nyoni's keen imaginative storytelling and David Gallego's masterful composition; you'll be looking up when their next projects will be released as soon as the credits roll.

It’s hard not to fall in love with Lynn Hershman Leeson as she bares her soul, sharing her unadulterated truths, in this experimental work spanning 20 years. Although the film dates back to 90s, it feels relevant in our age of social distancing and global loneliness, and hopefully inspiring to create art out of suffering, even if our only tool to do so is a diary.

If you haven’t explored the works of Joanna Hogg, maybe now’s the time. We recommend diving in with her first film, Unrelated.

The credits given to individuals on film crews are often confusing - for example, some producers play a heavy hand on the creation of a story, while others may simply have contributed to the budget of a film. The same ambiguity applies to directors and co-directors, so while we're not sure why Christine Cynn is rarely recognized for her collaboration with Joshua Oppenheim on this film (and it's not the time to harp on credit or gender politics in the industry), one thing is certain - this film is a straight up fucking masterpiece.

For the true lover of true-crime, this two-part documentary on the suicide of Conrad Roy and resulting trial of Michelle Carter shook us to our core.