Cannes 2022: Dispatch #1
It’s that time of year again, where both the sun and the spotlight beam down on this little slice of the French riviera. Despite all the recent struggles the festival has faced, like shutting down the festival completely in 2020 due to Covid (the first time since the beginning of WW2) slowly bringing it back to life in 2021, with many new health procedures added, to this year now —where things seem to have returned to normalcy, or as close to it as it can seem. I was very lucky to be invited again for the second year in a row, and despite the nightmare of the Cannes ticketing system crashing on everyone daily, I was still able to see several films from both directors I’ve greatly admired and new up-and-comers as well. Here’s the first batch of films I wanted to talk about.
Crimes of the Future
dir. by David Cronenberg
Cronenberg’s hazy, barren, nightmarish vision of tomorrow expounds on the idea of human evolution and how its next steps would manifest both within the body and within the context of our geopolitical climate. The provocations run deeper than “gross out”, particularly in the angling of bodily autonomy, bureaucrats and privatized companies insurrection of human evolution — it was difficult to not be reminded of the absolutely fucking grim status of women’s bodily rights in the U.S. at the current moment. Though that may have been happenstance, as Cronenberg has mentioned that the germ of this films idea first landed in the late 90’s, which is no surprise considering his output at the time. But of course all art must be taken in the context of the era in which it was made and released as well. The Canadian director mentioning Roe v Wade in the press conference and calling America “completely insane” should be no surprise then, of course. Much of his work has always been imbued with preoccupations of the human body, and how it melds with the advancement of technology and our own societal progress and misgivings. Which, of course, feels central to this conceit.
The opening moments show a young boy playing on some rocks on the shoreline, with a capsized cruise ship on its side sitting ominously. The oblique symbolization being this is a world gone awry, the planet feels empty and ravaged by some unknown event. Those who still survive, seemed to have done so because of the biological advancement taking place in the modern human (the new flesh anyone?) what they’ve dubbed as “Accelerated Evolution Syndrome”. Humans are growing new organs (and behavior) and also are no longer able to feel pain or pleasure. Which is perhaps how these remaining humans survived whatever (likely ecological) disaster took place on Earth. The development of these new organs led to governmental response of creating the National Organ Registry. We follow Saul Tenser, played by David’s best boy Viggo Mortensen, with a muted, phlegmy, and wholly unique presence. He’s a performance artist who, along with his surgeon and assistant (played by the incredible Lea Seydoux) do art show performances where the crowd watches as she excitedly, sensually slices into him and removes the ever-growing new organs that continue to fester inside him. Their relationship was one of the core strengths in the work, exploring a rich dynamic in the grotesque sweetness that imbues their relationship and the art they create together.
Saul’s willingness to display the ever shifting nature of his body and the organs within it have made him what seems like one of the last remaining “celebrities” in this strange worlds cultural lexicon. His status and prolific nature (proliferation? heh) naturally has him on the aforementioned NOR’s radar and has two agents ensuring procedure is being followed. But even one of these agents can’t also help but be enraptured by the possibilities that Saul’s body presents (played by an eager, excited Kristen Stewart complete with a twitchy, strange affect). There are other players in the mix as well, that are probably best served not being mentioned here, and we mainly stick with Saul as our cloaked guide through this nearly recognizable wasteland that are the remains of our planet and world. Much of the plot is loose, and the real meat of the ideas being teased at happen in the background of the film. Occasionally veering into brief glimpses of focus—conspiracies surrounding him and the ideas of the “next step” in evolution— mostly give way to collections of scenes that wander much like Saul himself. But I couldn’t help but wish we got to see that movie, the one teased on the edges of the frame here.
Generally speaking, the film is more of a mood piece and the thought of futurized human bodies that can no longer feel is more of a framework for Cronenberg to riff out ideas. But while the ideas that linger are rich, and varied, the actual experience in watching it was less engaging than the thoughts that came after. Much of this film deals with Viggo walking in a sith cloak talking to XYZ characters you don’t care or know anything about, exposition dumping at each other, or other characters talking about some plot beat that serves of little value. The level of gore or how viscerally “gross” this film would be has been overplayed as well, those coming in hopes of seeing very graphic or disturbing imagery will leave disappointed. This does not reach new, upsetting heights in body horror, and ends up feeling tame for Cronenberg. The tale of walk outs did not hold true from my screening, what I did sense was lot of people shifting their weight in chairs, sighing to themselves, frustrated that the shape this film took did not meet what they wanted. And that may have been my issue as well, I found myself actively struggling to click into the particular rhythms of the film. It’s approach couldn’t help but feel clunky throughout, and while clearly its ideas resonated with me, the act of watching I found less engaging. The film doesn’t really have that second gear to kick into, so much so you will likely be surprised when the credits roll. Perhaps a second viewing with different expectations will help knock more things loose but as it stands now, it’s a film who’s ideas I enjoy more than its execution.
Score: 6/10
EO (Hi-Han)
dir. by Jerzy Skolimowski
A down in the dirt, ear shattering filmic odyssey in which we dizzyingly follow Hi-Han the donkey traversing through Poland and between owners, discovering the cruelty of humans and of the modern world. Some of the most inspired visual language and camera placement I’ve seen recently, but is weighed down by the varying cast (and quality) of human characters and their plot beats. And while this film is clearly not meant to be *about* them per se, if the intention is to peel back and reveal the sinister nature of the human psyche, having more engaging and developed human characters would aid in that pursuit greatly.
We’re introduced to Hi-Han in a red neon drenched performance art piece with his trainer; some of the most instantly enrapturing imagery and sound in recent film. She is clearly a loving owner, who gently pets him and feeds him carrot scones as a treat, but the authorities come and ban using animals in the show (in accusation of animal cruelty no less) and he is taken away. Early on, it felt like it wanted to build a certain kinship between the two of them, though I did not find myself caring about their connection or Hi-Han staying in her life and the quicker the film escaped those trappings the more its strengths began to shine. The film does incredibly well to make you care about Hi-Han however, and this was genuinely some of the best “animal acting” I’ve seen. The filmmakers frame him very lovingly and expressly, and it should be mentioned that Hi-Han is played by at least 6 different donkeys by my count in the credits. Which shows how mindful the director and film crew were in capturing the animals in the spirit intended. This isn’t the case of one miraculous donkey, but a showing of tremendous effort and love from the entire crew involved.
The premise of Hi-Han being passed between owners allows for the film to presented as a series of vignettes, that can feel simultaneously sentimental and surreal. It employ varied tones, ideas, and approaches to the filmmaking style within each section, and there were several moments throughout that felt like truly radical filmmaking. This film doesn’t play it cute, EO is not given a voice, but it also doesn’t shy away from making him undoubtedly the lead. Which means there are several long stretches of no dialogue, where everything being communicated is through the filmmaking. And there is something both humbling and deeply universal about centering the joys and cruelty of the world on the story of this donkey. The fact that EO can never truly understand his misfortune makes the mirror reflecting back at human nature hurt that much more to look at.
As you could expect, there’s some grizzly footage of animal cruelty/death (staged of course) but even then it’s clear the filmmakers never wanted it to feel exploitative or tasteless and that they handled it with care. Then again, I’m a total mark for this film considering *I care about animals* but those saying this was “a 90 minute peta commercial” all I can say is open your eyes and turn your brain on next time. A more fair (and repeated) critique is that it’s derivative of one of the all time greats “Au Hazard Balthasar”, I’d argue their aims eschew slightly and their methods greatly; nor is it something the film nor filmmaker is attempting to conceal. The real criticisms should mainly stem from the some of the more ridiculous angles of the human stories and that perhaps the film can feel a bit empty. Then again, it’s no secret that most people don’t really resonate with films that seek to highlight the pain and suffering caused by the meat, dairy, and agricultural industries, perhaps because it would have to enact actual change? Who knows.
Circling back to inspired visual language, the film employs a lot of utilities in its tool belt. Neon drenched shutter-speed shifting and time sequenced drone footage; Lubezki akin floaty camerawork and sharply composed wide shots. The film consistently surprised in its varied styles and when you consider this is directed by an 84 year old man (the oldest director at Cannes this year), hats off to him for still being this bold and assured. Come for the cinematography stay for your love of Hi-Han.
Score: 7/10
Armageddon Time
dir. by James Gray
James Gray’s latest is a warm, nostalgic exercise in auto-biography, centering on the directors coming of age in 6th grade, the assimilation of Jewish-Americans in New York, Reagan-era politics, familial bonds and friendship. The time and place is meticulously and effortlessly realized as we follow young Paul Graff (Banks Repeta) just starting his school year, befriending a slightly older black kid named Johnny Davis (Jaylin Webb) who is repeating the sixth grade. Illustrating the strength found in their friendship through their mutual interests, like rockets and messing with their racist teacher, it’s a film about the invisible social fault-lines of that era, the moral compromise that comes from the pursuit of the American dream. But really, at its heart — the movie is about Johnny’s relationship with his grandfather (Anthony Hopkins) a wisened, humble man who seems to be the only one to be able to “reach” Paul. To cut through the noise of the era and the mounting authoritative voices that seem to surround and encapsulate (and hope to shape) his entire worldview. The past few years, Hopkins has been mining this very real, very raw portrait of human frailty and he seldom overplays it here. But I’d be lying if I didn’t say it hasn’t begun to feel a bit tired and over-utilized, between this and The Father, and I hope that not all of Hopkins roles will be that of the aging-but-noble patriarch.
Though in brief moments, he is able to bring more than just the well-meaning, knows-best grandpa, namely when digging into their past history and his (admittedly mostly unspoken) struggle that comes with the the country he’s had his family take root in, the socio-economic realities of “playing the game”, and the pain & suffering that comes from being silent. Again, this is all implied save for one scene at the family dinner table. Then of course is Esther, Paul’s mom (Anne Hathaway) a PTA president exasperated by her mischievous son, and my personal highlight of the film Paul’s dad (Jeremy Strong) who offers an honest portrayal of an aspirant second-generation father who’s own implosiveness is rooted in his self-deemed failures and the desire for better for his son. The push-pull on Paul between his father’s “never look back” mentality versus grandpa’s “we must never forget” is what provides the most honest dramatic struggles in the film. But of course this is a coming of age story so he will be learning all the lessons throughout the course of the film. Which cant help but feel overly morally instructive and dare I say Oscar bait-y, it’s one of those films white people will watch and feel good about themselves for watching. But it’s that unwillingness to dig in deeper that leaves it feeling hollow and simplistic.
The two’s friendship is sweet, and is certainly effective in illustrating the major rift in what thinking you’re oppressed looks like, versus what it actually is. How the innocence of childhood can blind from those that are privileged from the real world reality, and how a little a kid can truly offer a friend in those moments. The film does good to not feel like it excuses, or lets itself of the hook for the helplessness of our lead. Nobody is left off the hook exactly. But these feel like similar trappings of films we’ve seen before like Green Book, that seldom get into the grit of what they are trying to get across. It also helps that the two child actors are quite good, and the film does ask a lot of them. But by the end it reaches a moral/dramatic dilemma so limpid and foreseeable I couldn’t help but roll my eyes at it. At least Darius Khondji shot it so you know it looks good.