At the 62nd annual New York Film Festival, both the opening night selection, RaMell Ross’ Nickel Boys, and centerpiece entry, Pedro Almodovar’s The Room Next Door, will open in theaters soon. I caught the closing night film (Steve McQueen’s Blitz) along with a selection of features and documentaries from the Main Slate and Spotlight sections. 

 

Steve McQueen’s latest is a surprisingly conventional war movie about the travails of George (Elliott Heffernan), a young boy who hops off the train after his mother Rita (Saiorse Ronan) sends him away to keep him safe from the nightly Nazi bombing raids. What begins as an intimate look at a family separated by war soon morphs into a risible journey through the underbelly of a shattered London—the implausibilities begin when George escapes much too easily, and he witnesses far more extreme behavior than any young boy would be able to handle. At least Heffernan and Ronan (an actress incapable of a false note in her performances) give this disjointed and hysterical film a solid center, for what it’s worth.

 

 

Sean Baker’s film won the Palme d’or at Cannes, which says more about the Cannes jury than it does about the film, an overlong and cartoonish rom-com about Brighton Beach stripper Anora, who falls for the supposed charms of Vanya, a Russian mobster’s immature son, who—after throwing money at her and giving her satisfying sex—flies her to Vegas for a quickie wedding. Back in his dad’s Brooklyn mansion, their ignorantly blissful life together comes crashing down. Baker plays much of this as a ridiculously vulgar and childish farce, especially when the bumbling gangsters and foul-mouthed Anora fight, then try and track down Vanya after he runs away. An excruciating 135 minutes, Baker’s film thinks it’s smarter than it is—and, even though Mikey Madison makes a lively Anora, even she can’t get this to the finish line, especially after Anora has sex with the only mobster who treats her halfway decently. There are some funny and even touching moments, but these are unfortunately hemmed in by so many less felicitous ones.

 

 

The lone survivor of a plane crash in the Amazon rainforest years earlier, teenage Rebecca is a faith healer there under the aegis of her preacher dad Lawrence in Pia Marais’ often startling drama about morality, faith, environmentalism and exploitation. Things come to a head when loggers encroach on Indigenous lands and Rebecca is asked by the logging company manager to use her healing powers on his wife, who is in a coma. Helena Zengel’s mesmerizing portrayal of Rebecca is the complex center of this thought-provoking film, shot with moody chiaroscuro by Mathieu de Montgrand.

 

 

Director Jacques Audiard has never shied away from overbaked premises: his latest follows a trans woman who was the leader of a Mexican crime cartel and wants to reenter her children’s lives after leaving them behind to explore her new life. It’s filled with typical Audiard flourishes, many of which are borderline risible, like the musical numbers that put a further strain on an already overstuffed film. It’s up to the cast to make something credible out of this, and Zoe Saldana (as Rita, the lawyer who helps Emilia) gives the best performance of her career, showing off a lithe expressiveness during her song and dance routines. Karla Sofia Gascon as Emilia is also quite a powerhouse, and even Selena Gomez—as Juan turned Emilia’s wife Jessi—gives a sympathetic portrayal. Audiard bites off more than he can chew, but despite the transgressions, his film remains a watchable mess.

 

 

Korean director Hong Sangsoo is taste I’ve yet to acquire: his latest meandering, deadpan feature tells a wisp of a story about a middle-aged language tutor (the redoubtable Isabelle Huppert) who lives in a Seoul suburb and crosses paths with a variety of bemused locals. For 90 minutes, that’s pretty much all that happens, all so Sangsoo can make belabored, minor comic points and move on. The final sequence is lovely in its quiet way, but mostly the film wears out its welcome, even with Huppert at her most engaging.

 

TWST/Things We Said Today 

Romanian director Andrei Ujică transforms documentary footage into this quasi-fictional feature that takes as its starting point the Beatles’ record-breaking concert at Shea Stadium on a hot summer night in 1965. The footage includes the Fab Four giving as good as they get during an airport news conference along with the Watts riots in L.A., which also happened that week. Too bad Ujică can’t leave well enough alone; into this time capsule he inserts a silly story of two young people who fall for each other that fateful weekend. Superimposing these characters on the film frames has a ghost-like charm, yet it also detracts from the archival chronicle by allowing nonentities to elbow their way in.

 

 

Director Robinson Devor’s compelling portrait of Sara Jane Moore—who tried to assassinate President Gerald Ford in 1975—is an audacious pseudo-documentary centered by an interview with Moore (still vital and outspoken in her 90s), who discusses how her extremist actions led to that horrible moment, for which she spent 32 years in prison. Devor might be too clever for his own good: his film is sometimes nearly as enervating as it is unnerving (especially its reenactments), but the off-kilter, hyper-realistic feel adroitly underscores Moore’s bizarre, uniquely American life. 

 

Mati Diop’s extraordinarily original film follows the artistic treasures from the former West African kingdom of Dahomey (now Benin) being repatriated from the French museum that held them for more than a century. In 67 packed minutes, Diop’s themes of colonization and racism are married to her conceit to have a statue of Dahomey’s King Ghezo narrate with a deep, eerie, electronically enhanced voice, which allows the artifacts to be more than simply objects. Her closely observed study climaxes with a conservation among mostly young Benin natives, who argue whether this is mere tokenism (only 26 objects returned out of thousands?) or whether it’s a real opening to return more cultural treasures. 

 

Chinese director Wang Bing concludes his monumental documentary trilogy about life among young textile workers with the second and third parts of Youth—the first part, Spring, premiered last year. These perceptive chronicles show these people hard at work in the city of Zhili, far from their hometowns. Like Spring, Hard Times records the backbreaking repetition of their jobs and the casual exploitation by the shop owners. Homecoming records return visits to see family and friends (and even get married and have a baby) during the holidays. The cumulative power of these three vérité films—nearly nine hours in all—immerses viewers in this very specific world.