Cannes Film Festival 2022: The Best Movies (Crimes Of The Future, Armageddon Time) + Other. Here's a list of 12 premieres that are most likely to be made in the sunny southern France.
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Photo: Focus Features/Courtesy Everett Collection
After pushing daddy issues to the edges of the cosmos in Ad Astra, James Gray brings his preoccupation with fathers and sons to a more grounded and immediately personal register as he recreates the New York of his boyhood for this moving work of fictionalized memoir — his finest film in who knows how long. Paul Graff, a Jewish teenager, is played by Michael Banks Repeta. He dreams of turning his rocketship-building skills into an art-world star. But the realities of everyday life are too much for him: Anthony Hopkins' beloved granddad, Anne Hathaway, who has a declining health and a transfer to a private school. Gray gives it all a finer detail. Gray and his team built a replica of his house using old photos and home movies. This is even more touching than his heartbreaking monologues. This is like looking into another person's memories.
Gray, on the other hand, sees Gray's mini-me and his choices with the eyes of an adult. The moral core of the film concerns class — how it affects Paul in ways too subtle for him to understand, and his parents in ways they'd rather ignore or rationalize away. Paul and Jaylin Webb are friends who seem innocent until they find themselves in a completely different situation. Gray's guilt-ridden conscience makes it clear that Gray is not passive about their friendship. The parents are constantly trying to balance their beliefs against their actions, abandoning the public school that they don't like and looking down upon the people who they support. Gray is not willing to accept the imperfections of his past. This honesty leads to beautiful truths in each frame of Gray's sharply observed walk down memory lane.
Photo: Everett Collection
The most buzzed-about marquee title of the festival, David Cronenberg's grand return to his kingdom of body horror feels like a comeback in a broader sense — a great artist descending from Olympus to remind all these fakers and poseurs how it's done. Viggo Mortensen and Léa Seydoux star as a pair of performance artists with a ghastly act: she mans the remote-controls of a surgery machine and opens him up for crowds of gown-and-tuxedoed onlookers, removing the horrifying new organs generated by his body's Accelerated Evolution Syndrome. Cronenberg's film is Cronenberg’s first about artists. It's both intriguing and satisfying for him to project his view of the world and its current depravity on his characters. He's an aspiring 'Ear Man,' a man who can barely hear due to his many transplanted ears. Cronenberg's first film about artists in a non-metaphorical sense. He plays the role of an imitator, selling clones.
Cronenberg is still a great filmmaker, even though he's been away from the scene for eight years. Cronenberg's methods are becoming more bizarre and less in line with the genre niche that many fans want him to be. Everyone (especially the tittering Timlin, played by Kristen Stewart) speaks in baroque catchphrases or paragraphs of theory; 'Infections — what happened to them?' It is a firm favorite. Its cinematography has a unnaturally plastic anti-sheen that is appropriate for a movie opening with a child eating from a trashbasket. Tomorrow's world is ill-nourished both physically and spiritually. It has rusted out boats, a Greek beach, and synthetic food as our last source of sustenance. Although it's amazing that Cronenberg was able to write this script before the Guardian article on microplastics appeared, his prophecies are only getting more potent as Earth slips into its final years. Cronenberg, on the other hand, could go on forever.
Photo: Festival de Cannes
This documentary, from Harvard Sensory Ethnography Lab, examines the bodies and the horrendous potential for them to behave in unexpected and distressing ways. It is a look inside the slimy and squishy worlds we all take for granted everyday. Directors Véréna Paravel and Lucien Castaing-Taylor facilitated the development of new micro-cameras capable of getting higher-fidelity footage from within small intestines and rectal chambers, splitting the difference between pure avant-garde geometry and flee-the-theater visceral intensity. You can't miss the scene where a metal rod goes into 'Kalashnikov mode,' is rammed down the peehole of a man, and the needle cleaning which sees the eyeball clean from the retina of the most brave person to ever have lived on Earth. There's not a better way to guarantee that you will see something new than you did before.
There's more than just gross out exploits. Hospitals function in the exact same way that a human body functions. There are many organs working together in perfect harmony. A surgeon is heard chewing on his assistants and nurses during a prostate-prodding. This is a reference to issues like under-funding or understaffing that are very prevalent in America right now. Paravel and Castaing-Taylor take a wide-eyed interest in the basic doings of these large institutions, the most thrilling shot coming from the POV of a document-transporting capsule shot at warp speed through the network of pneumatic tubes that criss-cross the buildings. A final dance sequence — set, perfectly, to 'I Will Survive' — plays like a tribute to a class of worker the average person thinks about as much about as the involuntary beating of their own heart, so invisibly essential to the continuation of life, only until we stop to consider how miraculous it is that we can keep going on at all.
Photo: Festival de Cannes
EO is a donkey and a good boy. Jerzy Skolimowski, an 84 year-old Polish master, makes his first movie in seven years. He follows the story of this stubborn ass as he travels around rural Poland doing various things. Most importantly, he survives tribulations and bears witness to their suffering. If that sounds like a parody of deep-dish Euro-arthouse highbrowism — this is a loose remake of the 1966 classic Au Hasard Balthazar, after all — don't be dissuaded by the stony-faced minimalism. It's a celebration of good vibes. The shot that flips the tree upside down to transform them into reflected skyscrapers is jaw-dropping. This 88-minute masterpiece is alive with amazing camera tricks in an expressive vein. There are frequent interludes with EDM-ish stroboscoping, and unhinged experiments using the color red.
There's no denying the charm of the star four-legged, played by six animals actors, united in their Christlike, guileless purity. EO eats a carrot. EO is a soccer hooligan who believes it would be a good gas to load him up on beer and shotgunned stogies of marijuana. EO is a killer! He knew it was coming. A jury could not convict. You can't help but love EO and become involved in his misadventures, which he watches from a distance. The film as a whole portrays a Poland in spiritual crisis. It culminates with an unexpected appearance by Isabelle Huppert, who plays the lecherous stepmother of the defrocked priest. It's equally easy to relax in the calm energy radiating from our donkey hero, and the beautiful natural views through which he takes us slowly but steadily. EO for ever.
Photo: Festival de Cannes
Paul Mescal has won a lot of praises from critics as well as thousands upon people for his work in Normal People . Now, Anna Rose Holmer (and Saela) are making a convincing argument for their stardom with Anna Rose Holmer's first movie since 2016, the under-reported The Fits. Mescal plays Brian, an aspiring prodigal son who returns to the Irish fishing community he left years back in order to make a fresh start in Australia. The mother, Emily Watson (one of the highlights at the festival), convinces him to return to oyster harvesting, which is dominated by local seafood factory. He then gets a couple traps to his use. He believes that he is capable of doing no wrong, and she agrees to his scheme. This minor relaxation in her ethics will lead to much greater stakes.
The worst thing that can be revealed is what happens next. Watson shines as Watson has been sucked into doubt. Davis and Holmer's portrayal of Ireland is guided by Shane Crowley's devastating script and Fodhla Cronin O'Reilly. The percolating pressures build and increase to an uncontrollable level that explodes at the shocking finale, which leaves us wondering how we would react in the same circumstance. We can enjoy the stunning cinematography of ChayseIrvin. He finds light sources in many scenes at night and gives the film a rustic look in the gray daylight. His best work is when he captures all of the dark, threatening water around the morality play. It's an inky, void-like vista that extends into infinity, like the deepest parts of the human soul, which refuses to be compelled or forgiven.
Photo: Festival de Cannes
Netflix wouldn't be foolish to grab the debut directorial film of Lee Jung-jae. Lee Jung-jae is best known for his role in their blockbuster Squid Game. Put that in your algorithmic combination pipe, and enjoy it! It is hysterically explosive, ambitious, twisty and violent. This espionage adventure takes place in a turbulent time in South Korean history. A military dictatorship was cracking down on the protestors, while tensions flared between their enemies to the north. In the midst of all the turmoil, a cat and mouse game is brewing within the Korean CIA. The Foreign Unit's head (Lee Jung-jae) and Domestic Unit's (Jung Woosung) are racing to find the mole in each other's teams.
The two agents work together to ascend into a realm of god-mode ownership as their investigation leads them through an assortment of dead ends and red herrings that ultimately lead to the plot to assassinate President Barack Obama. The film is a sprawling, two-and-a half-hour-long epic. It's as though Lee had a contractual obligation to kill at least 25 men each scene. He orchestrates the carnage in these films with an old-fashioned know-how. This includes keeping CGI low and maximising the use of squibs, which are so plentiful that they will keep the industry in business for many years. The labyrinthine script requires your full attention. This is a huge task for such a long run, but anyone who doesn't get tangled up in the convolutions will still enjoy a very gnarly spy image. But those who do get lost may still be able to bathe in the blood.
Photo: Everett Collection
This is a really freaky movie, man. Brett Morgen's soon-to-be-HBO David Bowie documentary doesn't fit into that description. It feels more like an impromptu collage of images, references, and contexts, revolving around the legend of music. In the opening minutes, we are treated to a montage of clips that not only features Bowie as an art-rock alien but also any references or allusions that may help us understand his inexplicable world. Alongside flashes of the 'Ashes to Ashes' video or a live performance of 'All the Young Dudes,' we can catch hints of silent-cinema classics like Nosferatu (a fellow lanky outsider afeared by normal squares), Metropolis (a vision of the industrial German maximalism favored in Bowie's Berlin years), or Dr. Mabuse the Gambler (another Weimar artifact, about a man able to cast spells over his audiences). We can make connections even when they seem shaky. And we will take the insights from pop-culture Rorschach test results and use them to help us understand.
The film's admittedly long two-and-a-half hours quickly becomes more conventional as it moves from experimental to convention. The first hour focuses on Bowie's bisexuality and his fashion sensibilities. However, the rest of the film is chronological and takes us through his sojourns to Los Angeles and West Germany as well as his marriage to Iman (anonymous supermodel) and his pivot to populism in the '90s. His cocaine-related antics are respectfully brushed over. For those who are not familiar with Bowie, these sections can be used as a useful guide. They also allow you to review a few of his most famous songs. Morgen hasn't got much to say about a rock superstar who was subjected for decades of extensive coverage. But the approach he takes can still be reenergized by the loose-associative angle he uses.
Photo: Festival de Cannes
Each Romanian movie focuses on how horrible it is to live and work in Romania. The festival's highest prize winner, Cristian Mungiu (past Palme d'Or award winner), focuses exclusively on this last section. A small community in Transylvania is threatened by xenophobia when a handful of Sri Lankans arrive to work in the local bakery. Residents respond with a stream of racist consciousness, which Americans can understand like Trumpist thought. They want to take all our jobs (those that none of us are able to do), and they also claim they will replace us. A town meeting is flooded with bile. The mask of logic gradually falls as the residents admit that they don't like to see anyone else.
Even though this may sound like an exhausting grind, the festival is filled with enough intellectual firepower and masterly camerawork that it will keep everyone on their feet. Mungiu guides us through snow-covered woods and on dirt roads. He captures all this with an unattached remove, which can create beauty just as easily as ugly. There are more captivating curlicues in the plot than what the political battering-ram approach may suggest. Bears and the cello playing of the owner of the bread factory figure prominently into the story. As the film's center, she is a part of the moral dilemma. Her apparent altruism towards the immigrants may be a smokescreen to exploit what she sees as low-cost labor. This film is not for everyone. It's a hard-fought and uncompromising pessimism that we can't escape from Hollywood's cinematic output or the States' independent circuit. We may not be able to find an American equivalent, but the pathologies of both countries are very similar.
Photo: Festival de Cannes
Imagine a satire about art, complete with the competition, resentment, and desperation that is implied. Now, shrink the stakes to what you can. Michelle Williams may take on this role that could be the best of her career. Next, reduce the amount of action that can be sustained without destroying it. This is to appeal to viewers who didn't like Kelly Reichardt’s previous feature First Cow. This is the story of an exquisite portrait of a woman who struggles to find her limits in a field that seems to not want to work with her. Williams is a brilliant sculptor, Lizzy Carr. She's a struggling artist at Oregon College of Art and Craft and trying to get her next exhibition on track. But she gets distracted by her landlord/friend, Hong Chau (who seems more like the latter). A wounded pigeon needs her constant attention and care, and the calm condescension of her visiting artist in residency drives her crazy.
Reichardt's tragic stroke of genius is in suggesting that Lizzy might not be cut for this. When uneven kiln heating doesn't cause them to be charred on the other side, her sculptures will still look fine. Jud Hirsch is her father, Maryann Plunkett runs the department. John Magaro, Lizzy's mentally unstable brother, has the ability to inspire her. The climactic gallery show — though even using the word 'climactic' feels inappropriate to describe a film so determinedly low-key and chilled-out in its West Coast college-town vibe — unfolds like gentle farce, the little indignities of her life piling on top of one another as she hisses at her brother to take it easy with the free cheese. Reichardt is a Bard veteran professor. Her humor about her personal circumstances comes across more as lovable than rude. She also appreciates any environment that permits unambitious strangeos to express themselves freely.
The best-of-the-fest credit sequence belongs to this psychodrama from Poland's best-kept secret Agnieszka Smoczyńska, making a successful first foray into the English language. Every name is read out loud and commented on by two girl voices who scream "oh, that's my favorite name!" As Michael Smiley appears onscreen. This is not a bad bit. It also introduces us to the world created by June Wright (Laetitia) Gibbons. These are two Black women who lived in Wales in the 1970s and 1980s. They were out of their place in a largely white village and sought refuge in each other's relationships. This led to selective mutism which eventually saw them withdraw from the world, landing them at Broadmoor mental hospital. Within this factual account, Smoczyńska and writer Andrea Seigel explore the abnormal mental interiority shared by the girls, imagining what such extreme experiences may have felt like from the inside out.
The girls were delighted with the breaks of realism, just as their daily lives. The stop motion sequences are superbly smooth and crinkly. They show bird-headed individuals wandering across dimensions of felt and crepe-paper, while the occasional musical number depicts their inner turmoil in Greek choruses and declarative language. (Same deal as with Smoczyńska's brilliant killer-mermaid-stripper extravaganza The Lure, from back in Poland.) June and Jennifer picture themselves in a colorful sanctuary, where all is right and everything will be fine. But then smash brings us back to the real world. After getting the girls high on gasoline, jocks attempt to sport-fuck them. We can only see their condition worsening and the courts driving them apart. A series of backflips sticks the landing as commentary about the UK's lack of mental-health services.
Photo: MGM/Courtesy Everett Collection
George Miller returns to the forefront of Mad Maxnow with an unlikely fairytale about a hotel room between Alithea Binnie, a narratologist, and Idris Elba (remarkable and beautiful), who has just been released from a sealed bottle she bought the day before in Istanbul. You know the drill, he's here to grant her three wishes to use as she chooses, but because she also knows the drill, she's reluctant to walk into some be-careful-what-you-wish-for trap. He tells her a wonderful story about his life, which he uses to convince her. It's an amazing CGI tale with more imagination per minute than any comparable studio project. Magic, trickery, and passion take you on a journey across the ancient Middle East.
This amazing journey leads to an unexpected end, and they find themselves in a tender love story. Through the shared joy of storytelling and Miller's structure with nested stories, they break free from their isolation. In Alithea's speech at the academic conference, Miller explains that we create mythologies in order to understand the world around us. Miller is able to bring this sense of reverence to an age drained of technological knowledge. The filmmaker is no Luddite, but visual effects enthusiasts will love the clever use of digital embellishment.
Photo: Festival de Cannes
Riley Keough and Gina Gammell sit down together in the chair of director for a positive start to their career's next phase. The pair have a second joint project already in development. The pair have escaped any Hollywood vanity and taken a lo-fi look at South Dakota's Pine Ridge Reservation, where Oglala Lakota tribal members make a living by making their own decisions. Matho, the local boy, and Bill, the older teen, mean stealing, selling and dealing meth. They also log hours at nearby factories and turkey farms, and playing longer games by raising poodles. It's hard to do much when there's nothing else. This is a fact that the film, which is mostly made up of young people trying to make ends meet, clearly understands.
This may sound like Gammell and Keough are trying to put a romantic spin on poverty, or go in the opposite direction towards exploitation. But they do not. They deftly thread a needle that identifies hardship, without fixating on the issue, and guided by Bill Reddy, Franklin Sioux Bob and the Pine Ridge cast. These characters must contend with a lot of shit from the adults around them — Matho's sporadically abusive dad, Bill's white a-hole boss — but like real-life youths, the tribulation mostly slides off their backs once they can resume hanging out and making mischief with their friends. The film's transcendent ending reaffirms its base intention of celebrating and empowering people who are marginalized in a society that views them as if they were nothing. The Keough/Gammell director brain trust, as well as their charismatic collaborators will remain. They are the best non-professional actors since Chloe Zhao’s The Rider.
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