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Reviews
Poor Things (2023)
Hallucinogenic Steampunk masterpiece
It happens rarely, but occasionally something reminds me of just how powerful a collection of of creative minds can be, their achievement towering over the rest of the form. Colloborative art is so difficult and usually results in something mediocre with the edges shaved off.
Not this masterpiece. Gorgeous sets, unbelievably weird music, and actors at their best, all under the steady hand of director Yorgos Mavropsaridis. I adored the Lobster, and this utterly bizarre feast for the eyes suggests this guy is as good as anybody working today. It reminds me of the great Jean-Pierre Jeunet, director of Delicatessen, City of Lost Children and Amélie, who easily makes my top ten of all time list.
Part Candide, part Bride of Frankenstein and strangely a touch of Barbie on acid, this is nonetheless wholly original.
Emma Stone's previous work with the director in the gloriously weird The Favorite hints at this performance, but I didn't know she had this in her. She won the Golden Globe and deserves the Oscar for this tour de force. I've always liked Mark Ruffalo, but sheesh, he is hysterical. Willem Defoe is always good and perfect here as the sad neo Dr Frankenstein.
It's not up to a guy to call this a feminist film, like I believe Barbie to be (which I loved), so I will pass on that. Let's just say Stone's character is definitely one who does whatever the hell she wants without the slightest nod to convention, and her arc is pure.
It might not be for everyone, with casual placement of various chimeras like a duck with a dog's head or a human with a goat's brain. There is also very matter of fact sexuality, reduced to pure biology. Which didn't bother me a bit.
Not much point in going through the plot, I'm going to have to read the book by the late Alasdair Gray. I don't want to spoil it.
The sets were magnificent, steampunk like Jeunet but unique. The music was perfectly freakish, there were sounds coming from instruments I could not identify. Jerskin Fendrix (that cannot be his real name) is someone to watch out for.
Do not miss this and go to an actual theater. We saw this at AMC and the parade of abject mediocrity in the numerous trailers before this triumph did not give a hint at what was to come.
The Banshees of Inisherin (2022)
There is no there there
What a colossal waste of time. Two brilliant actors, Colin Ferrell and Brendan Gleeson, attempt to reprise their wonderful chemistry from the excellent 2008 film, In Bruges. Nope.
Is this supposed to be Pinter or Beckett? Almost nothing happens, and that nothing is inexplicable. Two friends live in the middle of nowhere in Ireland, and its desolate beauty is all this film has going for it.
One of the friends, the musician Gleeson, decides that he is sick of the other, Ferrell, and declares their friendship over. For no apparent reason. That's it, folks.
Ferrell mopes his way through the entire film, complaining to his sister, his donkey (who is adorable) and the village idiot. Gleeson provides absolutely zero reasons for his decision other than that Ferrell is "dull".
The incomprehensible and gratuitous use of self mutilation is revolting. No set up, no explanation, it is grotesque and pandering.
In fairness, Stef liked it a bit more (she gives it a 4) claiming that it is about isolation and how people react to it- some leave, some go mad, and some go silent. But that didn't do it for me.
Reading some of the glowing reviews reminds me of another film, The Menu, which is fantastic. That film takes the piss out of the fawning cult of high dining, especially the bread dish with no bread. Charge people enough and they will eat dirt and love it. Unfortunately, the Banshees of Inisherin tastes like dirt, and for me, no amount of critical fawning will save it from its banality and emptiness.