Lucky

Mortality: the very thing most of us don't want to face. More often than not, we only start thinking about death once we've had a close brush with it. It's simply something we can't escape.

That's what the titular character (Harry Dean Stanton) experiences in John Carroll Lynch's Lucky after he falls in his house. Before that incident, he lives a rather nondescript life in a small town. He has his usual routines for his day, nothing completely out of the ordinary. But now he starts re-examining his life.

Stanton has been in Hollywood for decades now, having the kind of presence that's of the welcoming variety. Whether it's a supporting role or something on a smaller scale, he always delivers. And as he shows here, he has no trouble being the one in charge.

And since Stanton is the star and Lynch the director, it seems almost fitting that a litany of character actors round out Lucky. Each of the side characters have their own personalities, some of them mirroring their actors' traits. (The most telling one is with David Lynch's.) But as stated earlier, this is Stanton's show.

Lucky continues to prove that Stanton is a valuable performer. Here's someone who's been a regular presence for decades it's almost impossible to think of a film that wasn't improved by him being in it. There's nobody else like him, and there never will be either; he is simply one of a kind.

My Rating: ****1/2

Landline

As Gillian Robespierre showed with Obvious Child, there's nothing wrong with being imperfect. We're all expected to make mistakes and bad decisions, it's basic human nature. But boy, does Robespierre drive that point home with her latest Landline.

Landline follows the Jacobs family and their bumps in the road: mother Pat (Edie Falco) has a tendency to rule the household with an iron fist; eldest daughter Dana (Jenny Slate) gets cold feet as her wedding day approaches; and youngest daughter Ali (Abby Quinn) prefers partying over studying. As for father Alan (John Tuturro)? He's having an affair.

Yes, that does seem like a lot to put all in one movie but hey, Robespierre's last one was a comedy with abortion as its main theme. So having her follow-up have adultery as its focus isn't too much of a stretch. (And for the record, Landline is decidedly darker than Obvious Child.)

Seeing as how she was also in Robespierre's previous film, Slate stands out in Landline. Falco and Tuturro also provide much of the same. But it's newcomer Quinn that makes the biggest impression amongst the four leads. (Be sure to keep an eye on her.)

Landline doesn't reach the same levels as Obvious Child but it has its merits. Robespierre continues to show her worth as a director and writer, likewise with Slate as her muse. Of course, to say both of them are ones to keep an eye on would be redundant. (After all, they earned that distinction from their previous collaboration.)

My Rating: ****

Window Horses

How does animation manage to stay fresh? After years of those with songs that get stuck in your head for weeks afterwards, recycled characters, and sometimes similar animation styles, it's practically a miracle that the genre as a whole hasn't collapsed yet. But then again, the solution is simple: originality is crucial.

Ann Marie Fleming's Window Horses follows Rosie Ming (Sandra Oh), an aspiring Canadian poet. After her collection of poems is published, she gets invited to perform at a poetry festival in Iran. While she's there, she explores the country's rich history and tries to find answers about her father, who abandoned her family when she was young.

Window Horses goes beyond the mysteries of Rosie's past and explores the history of Middle Eastern poetry. Through different styles of animation, the film depicts how the art of the written word has an affect on those who encounter it, (Sometimes for the better, sometimes for the worse.)

Also displayed in Window Horses is the clash of different cultures. Upon arriving in Iran, Rosie dons a chador rather than the traditional hijab. (Several people remark on it.) And one poem performed at the festival is met with disgust because its metaphor doesn't mesh with Iranian beliefs. Rather than being a punchline, these instances are treated as a chance for learning.

Window Horses provides a fascinating story to watch unfold. It's more than a tale of one's self-discovery; it's about their potential future as well. And Fleming tells a story that's as lively as its various animation styles. This isn't one that should be brushed off, not by a long shot.

My Rating: *****

God's Own Country

Johnny Saxby (Josh O'Connor) of Francis Lee's God's Own Country seems content if sometimes irritated with his uneventful life in Yorkshire. He helps out on his family's farm during the day, gets trashed at the pub at night, and squeezes in the occasional hookup here and there. It's when Gheorghe (Alec Secareanu) enters the picture that things start to change for Johnny.

By no means is God's Own Country the first film to follow such a premise, regardless of the sexuality on display. But what Lee does with his debut is he captures an awakening for Johnny. He's so accustomed to making himself numb, the thought of something meaningful in his life practically scares him.

There are similarities to Brokeback Mountain in God's Own Country, the most telling being the first sexual encounter between Johnny and Gheorghe. (In fact, that scene and several later ones practically parallel Ang Lee's film.) But to compare the two films merely reduces the worth of both works; they need to be appreciated individually.

While Lee shows immense promise with his career, the same can most definitely be said for O'Connor as well. The actor -- a relative newcomer to the profession -- depict's Johnny's frustrations towards his dull routine. (It's once Gheorghe becomes a part of his life that Johnny becomes more open emotionally.) Safe to say we'll be seeing O'Connor more in the coming years.

God's Own Country is a deeply intimate story, something not often explored in similar works (straight, gay or otherwise). Usually lust is mistaken for romance but Lee makes sure not to make the blunder others have made before. And the result is one that's essential viewing.

My Rating: *****

The Strange Ones

Early on in Christopher Radcliff and Lauren Wolkstein's The Strange Ones, it's clear something's afoot. Initially it seems that Sam (James Freedson-Jackson) and Nick (Alex Pettyfer) are en route to a camping trip. But it becomes clear from their behavior -- Nick's in particular -- that they're hiding something...

Admittedly what's following Sam and Nick is made clear early on (as well as the circumstances that led them to their current situation) but it's one that becomes obvious if you're familiar with such premises. (Though it's worth mentioning that this is an expansion of sorts of a short film by Radcliff and Wolkstein.)

But what of The Strange Ones in particular is worth mentioning? Indeed it focuses on the recesses of the mind but admittedly it isn't anything we haven't seen before. However, it does show our fascination with the dark places one can delve into.

In fact, that's something The Strange Ones excels at. What does drive someone to cross moral boundaries? Is it something as simple as greed or infidelity? Or could darker urges be the ones at fault? Regardless of the reason, we always are drawn to such stories.

The Strange Ones overall doesn't deliver the potential it alluded to at the beginning. Still, the work from Pettyfer and especially Freedson-Jackson make it worth a look but they can't salvage it completely. (Hey, win some, lose some.)

My Rating: ***

The Ring Thing

What are the dynamics of any given relationship? We often see how two people meet and start too become more comfortable with each other. But what about when the honeymoon phase starts to wear off? Are they still feeling the same way?

William Sullivan's The Ring Thing follows Sarah (Sarah Wharton) and Kristen (Nicole Pursell) after the former accidentally proposes to the latter. Sarah has a slight fear of commitment whereas Kristen was more than willing to accept the proposal. As a result, both take different methods to understand the possibility of marriage.

The whole accidental proposal trope is sometimes fodder for the occasional comedy but The Ring Thing is purely drama. Sullivan depicts how situations like these can be far from a laughing matter, perhaps causing a rift between the couple. (Hey, it can happen.)

Another thing explored in The Ring Thing is divorce among same-sex couples. (A supporting character is undergoing the task.) With Sarah being a child of divorced parents, her phobia of settling down becomes more understandable. But is it possible for her to overcome it with Kristen?

The Ring Thing is in some ways a lesbian equivalent of Blue Valentine. It alternates between past and present, chronicling the ups and downs of a relationship. The distinction between the two time periods does blur at times, causing some confusion. Still, Wharton and Pursell do make a cute couple.

My Rating: ****

Beach Rats

Last year, Moonlight provided a portrait of how the perception of masculinity can be damaging to boys when they're subjected to it. They're expected to not openly display what they're feeling, maintain a tough demeanor, and always prove themselves as the alpha male. Of course, such thinking is not without its consequences.

Eliza Hittman's Beach Rats is the latest to focus on this. Frankie (Harris Dickinson) spends his days hanging out with his friends, finding ways to get high, and roaming the streets of Brooklyn. By night, however, he's in the sanctuary of his home cruising online.

It's clear Frankie has some doubts over his own identity. (He even has a girlfriend for a short while.) He feels like he needs to act and look like the average street smart teen. But as we saw with Chiron in Moonlight, that doesn't sum up one's entire personality. Just because you behave that way doesn't mean you are that way.

But to compare Beach Rats to Moonlight is unfair on both films' parts as it only generalizes their premises. With Hittman's film, she explores how being gay around certain people can be, especially if they think everyone falls under the many stereotypes directed towards the LGBT+ community.

Beach Rats chronicles the self-doubt those confronting their sexuality face in a more exposed way previous entries have tried to depict. The figurative and literal nakedness of Frankie throughout the film shows how vulnerable he really is despite his tough guy persona; he wants to be accepted for who he truly is.

My Rating: *****

The Trip to Spain

In the third installment of Michael Winterbottom's so-called trilogy, Steve Coogan and Rob Brydon are whisked away once again to explore the local culture and cuisine. During their week-long travels, they talk, joke around, and explore the country they're in. (Okay, that's a broad summary but an apt one.)

As the first two showed, The Trip to Spain follows the two Brits as they try (unsuccessfully) to leave their professional and private lives temporarily behind them. When they're together, it's clear they put on a facade. It's once both of them are by themselves -- Coogan in particular -- that their self-doubts emerge. (Even for a Winterbottom film, that's pretty dark.)

Of course one of the main focuses of The Trip to Spain is the constant ribbing between Coogan and Brydon. Whether it's towards their careers (the success of Philomena gets brought up a lot) or just what's happening in that moment ("You look like a tentative Nazi"), the bulk of the film's humor comes from these small moments.

But in comparison to the previous films, The Trip to Spain has a more poignant note to it. Amongst the celebrity impressions Coogan and Brydon do are ones of John Hurt and Roger Moore, both of whom -- though still alive during filming -- have passed away in recent months. (They also talk about David Bowie and his death for a scene.) Not often that comedy segues into more somber subjects in total seriousness and honesty.

The Trip to Spain is a welcome entry to this already thriving series. Coogan and Brydon continue to be a great comedic duo (do you think they'll venture beyond Winterbottom?), and of course one wonders where their next journey will take them. (If they make another one, that is.)

My Rating: ****1/2

Columbus

You know how in some fiction, the setting plays as much of a role as the characters and plot? A number of Martin Scorsese's films have New York City as did Federico Fellini with Italian locales. And other times, it's small towns that get this treatment.

Kogonada's Columbus is set within the titular Indiana city, its many structures playing a role in the film as well. Using many static shots throughout (the camera only moves very rarely), it's one of those films where simplicity is on full display. But what is it about?

Columbus follows two people who find their bonds with their parents almost constricting. Because of his culture, Jin (John Cho) is expected to be by his ailing father's bedside. Casey (Haley Lu Richardson), however, is happy to tend to her mother's needs even if it means putting her own ambitions on the back burner.

What Columbus shows is how the familial bonds differ from person to person. Some begin to fray as they get older while others grow stronger. But regardless of the connection's strength, tensions still remain for the parties involved. (It's simple human nature, no bones about it.)

Columbus provides a sort of contradiction of itself: thought-out but meandering, precise but pretentious. Still, Cho and Richardson continue to show their worth as actors, Richardson in particular. And Kogonada in turn shows promise in a career in directing feature films, having already made a name for himself in video essays. (Seriously, he should be a recurring presence in the years to come.)

My Rating: ****1/2

Mr. Roosevelt

At some point in our lives, we get that feeling of being stuck. We get the notion that by now we should have everything about us in order but we don't know how to achieve it. A daunting prospect, maybe, but it's normal to feel a little lost.

Noël Wells' Mr. Roosevelt has Emily Martin (Wells) realizing this harshly several times. She at first seems content with how she's living her life in Los Angeles but after a personal crisis beckons her back to Austin, she starts to re-evaluate her situation.

It's a familiar concept amongst independent features as of late, yes, but Wells shows how the sometimes serious premise can have its lighter moments. That said, however, Wells certainly doesn't shy away from how often Emily's at fault. (Since Wells wrote the script as well, perhaps she herself encountered this in her own life too.)

But that's not to say Mr. Roosevelt is solely Wells' show. Her script provides the supporting characters their own distinct personalities. And the actors in said roles make the most of them, Danielle Pineda especially.

Mr. Roosevelt shows promise in Wells as a creator and a performer (though Master of None might have proven the latter already). It has the usual conventions of comedy, yes, but it still equates to an entertaining end result. Hopefully this won't be the last time we hear of Wells.

My Rating: ****