Female Film Critics 24/375
Even if you had a wonderful freshman year roommate, I’m sure the “what-if” questions have crossed your mind as you’re settling into your new shared space. “What if we have nothing in common?” “What if they take my stuff?” “What if they expose my secrets?” “What if they set my things on fire?” In Chandler Levack’s Roommates, you will see all of these “what-ifs” play out in wildly unexpected ways.
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Nora Ephron said in a 2009 NPR interview that she “…learned to cook from that cookbook [Mastering the Art of French Cooking], and, what’s more, became completely infatuated with the person who’d written it.” Food was a very important part of Ephron’s life and her cinematic career, so it’s fitting that her final film would cover a woman and a topic that has been with her nearly her entire life.
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Literal and metaphorical guardrails suddenly evaporating. We are plunged into the reality that the end of the world is not waiting to announce itself. Sirat follows a charming motley crew of nomadic Europeans ravers, somewhere in southern Morocco. A party in a desert fills up the screen with this moonscape beset by electronic beats, basslines, dancing bodies in various states of rejection of polite society. We are totally immersed, easily led into this pilgrimage, ready to hand ourselves over to this camaraderie, to feeling fully embodied in dance and drugs, the rest of the world melting away. The beautiful and unrelenting score, by Kanding Ray, never lets you unhook.
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Whether you live with anxiety yourself or care about someone who does, odds are good that Wendy Lobel’s documentary Anxiety Club will strike a resonant chord. As the comedians the movie follows share their stories — and their worries (so very many worries) — they reveal that no matter how funny they are on stage, they’re raw and vulnerable off stage. And that revelation makes them and their experiences all the more relatable.
Read moreAt first blush, Wendy Lobel’s Anxiety Club may seem like another straightforward exploration of individual comics battling their demons amid the broader questions about comedy and mental illness. Even Marc Maron, the OG of digging through emotional muck together, is on hand. Yet he is there as a sort of founding father passing on the torch to a new generation who have already internalized the power of vulnerability as critical to both their well-being and their comedy. They are so fluent and self-aware, seamlessly capturing their generation’s earnestness and their own keen ability for expression.
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A chillingly common thread in many iconic horror movies is the refusal to believe women when they voice their fears, their suspicions, or their trauma. This narrative mirrors a grim reality rooted in history: women have long struggled to have their experiences, especially those regarding mental health and abuse, taken seriously. The implications go beyond mere storytelling. Statistics from organizations like the National Network to End Domestic Violence reveal that over 70% of domestic violence cases are never reported, often because survivors fear that they will not be believed or that they will face retribution. Let’s dive into some unforgettable horror films where disbelief in a woman’s voice escalates the terror.
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A Real Pain utilizes the familiar tourist trip as a convincing canvas. Nailing down the charmingly Bohemian Benji (Kieran Culkin) by booking a conventional tour by the more conventional cousin David (Jesse Eisenberg), made sense. It was a perfect vehicle for allowing their dynamics, personalities, the themes of memory and trauma tourism, to unfold. The exposition in this screenplay was a master class, even though the actors are laying versions of themselves, or because of it. It’s a neat sleight of hand to turn a character you think you know into one entirely invented. As fun as Benji was and as envious as the more straitlaced and neurotic David got, the tragedy of Benji’s character pierced deeply. He endeared and broke and enraged you in equal measure. We never really find out why Benji has been cast adrift in life, and we don’t need to. We meet him where he is and worry for what is next. Just enough is given to make it real and utterly palpable.
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When we see expectant parents, we think of nurseries and colorful mobiles with the laughter of nervous parents emotionally in sync and awaiting their important day. But in the dark of Klondike’s opening scene, it doesn’t take long to realize that this typical expectant parents’ conversation is not what we expect. The couple has a hole in their house. The environment is bleak and brown. And their conversation is interrupted by a loud explosion. So now we expect a drama with action and blood. But no. Again, we are turned around by the dry, absurdist wit of writer and director Maryna Er Gorbach, and we see this couple struggle with the mundane as much as with the mind games of politics and war.
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Véronique Jadin’s Employee Of The Month (L’employée du mois) is an office comedy with a bloody twist seen through the eyes of long-suffering EcoClean office manager Ines and the new intern Melody. The film starts with a pan of the EcoClean office: a generic set up of old desks, shelves of product perfectly lined up, and all the clues of an organized office manager keeping it spotless and character-less except for a fish – a solitary, silent fish.
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When we look at all the young women who rise quickly to fame with their beauty and sensuality, too many have stories that end tragically. Ursula Macfarlane’s documentary shows us the cost of fame but also reveals the humanity of a woman who wielded so much power and yet struggled for her own empowerment. Vicky Lynn had many stories. Anna Nicole had many stories. Which one was the real woman?
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