I kept thinking of other films while I was watching Andrius Blazevicius’s poignant and sometimes dispassionate look at performative activism and interpersonal relationships.
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This is one of those gentle Kore-eda films, evoking existential thought as well as whimsy.
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It was with a small amount of trepidation that I saw this latest from one of my favourite directors Asghar Farhadi (or as Facebook autocaptioning calls him, Glasgow Harvey).
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I’ve been pondering the title of this film by Valentina Maurel, as it has a resonance once the closing credits rolled that I hadn’t really considered at the start.
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There is no schadenfreude like watching the uber wealthy cause trouble for each other.
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This cozy Irish documentary by Gar O’Rourke (Sanatorium (2025)) about the over tourism of the Cinque Terre sits with me slightly uncomfortably as I have been one of those tourists.
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The Melbourne Film Festival is doing a strand of films by Ulrike Ottinger this year and, not knowing anything about this director, I was drawn in by this one being set largely in inner Mongolia at a time where no western directors had previously been allowed to film there.
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Sad sad sad sad. I think I knew this was going to be about queer sorrow rather than joy, although I was drawn in by the period setting and Fiona Shaw.
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What a great film! I was sure I had seen it before but I absolutely hadn’t. And what I didn’t realise was that the person who shot Andy Warhol was Valerie Solanas! I feel like a bad feminist for not putting two and two together.
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This is not The Man with the Golden Gun. I think in the back of my brain I thought that’s what I was booking, a James Bond film.
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