A compelling slice of high-energy documentary journalism, with lashes of espionage and resistance against the authoritarian Moscow regime, replete with jaw-dropping evidence of state-sponsored attempted murder. The film makes no attempt to explain Alexei Navalny's backstory, and little attempt to unpick his motivations - rather, the filmmakers are unashamedly along for the ride as he wages his quixotic campaign of rebellion against the Kremlin, famously exposing his would-be murderers, and heroically (and/or self-destructively) plunging back into the viper's nest by flying back to certain arrest in Moscow in January 2021.
Ali & Ava (dir. Clio Barnard, UK, 2021)
A pleasing drama of middle-aged romance in working-class Yorkshire between hyperactive, kindly Ali, who's hiding the secret of the breakdown of his marriage from everyone including his in-laws, and stalwart mum Ava, whose children are everything to her, but has been unable to put herself first since the death of her abusive ex. A solid mix of believable performances from the supporting cast and a very watchable turn from the two leads help Clio Barnard's fairly conventional material remain memorable.
Godland (dir. Hlynur Pálmason, Iceland, 2022)
An Icelandic odyssey in which a 19th-century Danish priest treks across the blasted wilderness, enduring Fitzcarraldo-like hardships to build a new church in a remote settlement, where he wins the attention of the local farmer's beautiful daughter - but all is not as it seems. The outsider learns harsh lessons of the Icelandic way of life and how men take the law into their own hands in a land where crime and retribution live on in the spirit of Norse vendettas. The film's visual appeal is considerable, with tremendous cinematography, and its premise - based on seven real wet-plate photographs discovered from the era - is intriguing. My only minor niggle is the use of Academy ratio throughout, when the Icelandic scenery cries out for widescreen treatment.
Exposing Muybridge (dir. Marc Shaffer, US, 2021)
An effective photography doco on the pioneer of early motion photography, Eadweard Muybridge, whose colourful life and photographic innovations in the service of millionaire Leland Stanford revolutionised 19th-century understanding of animal and human motion, and laid the groundwork for the cinematic revolution after 1895. The traditional talking heads are much enlivened by the presence of actor Gary Oldman, who is quite a Muybridge expert and lends a pleasing enthusiasm to the story of this strange, sometimes deceptive, fellow.
Corsage (dir. Marie Kreutzer, Austria, 2022)
The much-filmed life of the glamorous, dangerously wasp-waisted Elisabeth, Empress of Austria and Queen of Hungary, is depicted with engaging skill by Luxembourger actor Vicky Krieps, in the Empress' middle-aged years of increasing alienation from her husband, the Emperor Franz Josef. Writer-director Marie Kreuzter prefers to tell a stylised version of the famous 'Sisi' tale, highlighting the notorious tight-stayed corsetry Elisabeth used to maintain her impossibly thin figure, but adding intentionally anachronistic flourishes such as 20th century music played on 19th century instruments, an appearance by a movie-camera years before their invention, and, most jarringly, in the use of a 21st-century ferry for the film's admittedly impressively staged finale. Rather than acting as subtle treats as in Sofia Coppola's films, these intentional breaks in authenticity - a defiant middle-finger flip to the Viennese court here; a modern tractor left in a rural scene there - distract from the otherwise impressive period detail and the intriguing tale at hand.
Triangle of Sadness (dir. Ruben Östlund, Sweden, 2022)
Ruben Östlund's Palme-d'Or-winning film Triangle of Sadness brings a wicked satirical skewering to its vacuous, uber-moneyed subjects but is anything but subtle. Crass excesses such as the copious vomiting sequences second only to those of Monty Python's Mr Creosote will divide audiences, and Östlund's sledgehammer scorn for the film's subjects make this an almost unremittingly bleak perspective on the supposed irredeemable one-percenters. Throw in plenty of raucous physical comedy, sharply pointed satirical commentary on the class divide, an engaging Woody Harrelson cameo, and the hypocrisies of the gig economy, and you've got a mostly entertaining amalgam of slapstick, didacticism and the commodification of human existence. Whether it amounts to a wholly enjoyable experience - at 150 minutes, it's certainly overlong - depends on personal taste. Perhaps the film's blunt finger-wagging takes some of the shine off, particularly in comparison with the wittier, precision-honed Parasite by Bong Joon-ho.
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