“The French Dispatch”
Partnering with legendary “Mamma Mia! Here We Go Again” cinematography Robert Yeoman—oh, wait… maybe we mixed up some facts doing research for this year end obituary (uhh… we meant to write it this way)—Wes Anderson’s New Yorker anthology tribute, “The French Dispatch,” looks so pristine and polished from tip top to bottom, you’d swear the director/DP pair are just beaming their eccentrically staged sets with sometimes seemingly never-ending dolly set-ups onto the screen via pure intention of vision at this point. Like “The Grand Budapest Hotel,” (all of Anderson’s films, really) the Euro-centric, Jacques Tati-vibe evoked by the picture is so meticulously particular in its ornate extravagance/presentation—storied, lusciousy layered, symmetrical staging diagrams—that from a production standpoint alone, its creative ambition towers over most releases. Playing again with multiple aspect ratios and shifting between painterly colored and stark black and white photography, the film’s fanciful visual language builds to a wonderfully erudite cartoon climax (which also feels like an artistic extension of ‘Grand Budapest’s ‘ high-spirited, stop-motion chase), as Anderson/Yeoman’s work has exponentially reached new heights of animated perfection ever since “Fantastic Mr Fox.” – AB
“The Souvenir Part II”
“Nobody’s expecting ‘Persona.’” Funnily enough, two 2021 movies about embracing self-expression and the touchy art of filmmaking itself, Mia Hansen-Løve’s “Bergman Island,” and Joanna Hogg’s “The Souvenir Part II,”—the second half of the British director’s semi-autobiographical account of her film school experiences—both (very knowingly) take many of their reflexive cues from the Swedish filmmaker’s masterpiece. “Every frame a painting” is a common expression popularized by the internet, but “every frame a polaroid” is how ‘The Souvenir’ could be described—the first half of ‘Part II,’ anyhow. While the front portion of Hogg’s conclusory chapter shadows Honor Swinton Byrne’s Julie (Hogg’s stand-in) and all the stresses that come with helming a thesis project—one grainy, verite shot taking place in a cluttered car where the DP bickers with the first-time filmmaker about her communication skills as a director and understanding of shot set-ups. Tangible, countryside close-ups of flower fields later transition into abstract symbols of inner torment when Julie’s film is screened, orienting audiences inside its film within a film—featuring “Alice in Wonderland” scaled backlots with tiny doorways, and Orson Wellesian mirror labyrinths. The final sequence of the film is one of the most mindfully conceived visual endings of any movie about movie-making—we don’t want to say too much more and risk spoiling its magic. – AB
“West Side Story“
Despite its middling opening box-office weekend, 20th Century Studios’ “West Side Story” has been widely praised. In some ways, it’s a total lay-up. The songs and music by Leonard Bernstein and Stephen Sondheim, are fantastic, as is the original Broadway play and the 1961 movie on which it’s based and sometimes, it feels like there’s a bit of undue praise on this new version. That said, if this new “West Side Story” shines in a way like no other version of this play has ever shone (with apologies to Robert Wise and Jerome Robbins), it’s in its visual grandeur. In short, this Steven Spielberg guy knows how to shoot the shit out of any scene. Chomping at the bit to direct a musical (after injecting a few scenes into the early moments of “Indiana Jones And The Temple Of Doom“), Spielberg just brings scenes utterly to life beyond dynamic songs and performances with bursts of color, pizzaz, and style. Cinematographer Janusz Kamiński may favor stark washed out palettes, of which you see at times, especially some of the fight scenes with the Jets, but even he puts that sensibility aside when it’s time to burst out into song. The two have been working together for decades now and even if you might think the entire endeavor is a nostalgic cinema homage that’s maybe not quite as inventive as all the praise, visually and cinematically, at least, the director/DP duo bring their A-game for a film that razzles in the places it should. – Rodrigo Perez
“Pig”
Portland is known for keepin’ it weird: With the Urban Iditarod, the Naked Bike Ride, the Voodoo Doughnut Shop, the yarn bombing, and hipsters with more tattoo ink than bare skin and beards to rival the 19th century’s mightiest facial hair. Portland is also known for rain. Lots of rain. Rain that comes and goes in the span of the same day, like New England but softer (and weirder). Patrick Scola, cinematographer on Michael Sarnoski’s startling feature debut-cum-Nicolas Cage vehicle, “Pig,” keeps cloud cover hovering over the film and manages to maintain a vibrant color palette at the same time, even in low light and no matter how much the world he’s shooting in is defined by a perpetual grey haze. Sarnoski directs with a minimalist’s eye; Scola abides, zeroing in on the most interesting objects in the frame – a tart, a cot, a foam-soaked scallop, a truffle – and shooting them with head-on determination. He’s the antithesis to the molecular gastronomy chef met halfway into the movie’s running time: Scola keeps his work simple because simple is best, and achieves soulful perfection in shot after shot after shot. – AC
“Nightmare Alley”
The jury is out on how Guillermo del Toro‘s “Nightmare Alley” will be seen from an awards perspective. Released at the end of the year by Searchlight Pictures, it is expected to be an Oscar showstopper that could potentially upend the season. Critics, however, have had a mixed reaction to the film, so it remains to be seen what will happen. Regardless, the place and moment where most people can agree on del Toro’s new film is its gorgeous noir cinematography, filled with chiaroscuro dread, sweat, and anxiety. Shot by Oscar-nominated DP Dan Laustsen (“The Shape of Water,” “Crimson Peak,” the ‘John Wick‘ films), as you’d expect, “Nightmare Alley” lives in the shadows, both visually and the morally bankrupt souls of its characters. Its carnival sensibilities are on point too: colorful, inviting, but also with that freaky, unpleasant-curio atmosphere of the mysterious, the arcane, the spectral, and the creepy/amusing things that lie behind those blood-tipped curtains. Like Spielberg’s latest, “Nightmare Alley” could arguably be a little too indebted to the nostalgic traps of genre, but visually, it’s velvety, shadowy millieu is just deliciously lush. – RP