Director/screenwriter Melissa B. Miller-Costanzo (center) with actors Brendan Meyer (l.) and Sam McCarthy (r.) on the set of All These Small Moments, 2017. (Photo: Katie Leary, Filmmaker Magazine)
Here are sixteen new movies due to be released in theaters or via other viewing platforms this January, all of which have been directed and/or photographed by women. These titles are sure to intrigue cinephiles and also provoke meaningful discussions on the film world, as well as the world in general.
(Apologies, by the way, for missing out on doing these posts in November and December 2018! I was overworked, and therefore missed out on informing you all of such films as All the Creatures Were Stirring, Anna and the Apocalypse, Becoming Astrid, Between Worlds, Bird Box, Capernaum, Clara’s Ghost, Destroyer, Divide and Conquer: The Story of Roger Ailes, Dumplin’, Happy as Lazzaro, Jinn, Lez Bomb, The Long Dumb Road, Mary Queen of Scots, Narcissister Organ Player, The New Romantic, On the Basis of Sex, The Party’s Just Beginning, Say Her Name: The Life and Death of Sandra Bland, Searching for Ingmar Bergman, That Way Madness Lies, United Skates, Unlovable and Write When You Get Work.)
JANUARY 1 (VOD), JANUARY 4 (in theaters): State Like Sleep (dir. Meredith Danluck) – Variety’s Tribeca Film Festival review by Nick Schager: “The aftershocks of trauma can take many forms, as Katherine (Katherine Waterston) learns following the death of her famous husband in State Like Sleep, writer-director Meredith Danluck’s unsettling first feature. Aided by Christopher Blauvelt’s sumptuous cinematography, this consistently surprising film slinks along with melancholic dreaminess, matching the fugue state that plagues its grief-stricken protagonist. With Michael Shannon and Luke Evans also upending expectations in supporting roles, it’s a confident debut that should reap considerable attention from distributors, and opportunities for Danluck, following its premiere at this year’s Tribeca Film Festival.
“‘Without stories, the truth is too random,’ opines Belgian actor Stefan (Michiel Huisman) during a TV interview at the start of State Like Sleep. Though the thespian comes off as full of himself (and also something decidedly odorous), it’s an insight that defines Danluck’s tale. Via eerie shots through Stefan and wife Katherine’s messy Brussels flat, as well as oblique glimpses of a gunshot and blood pooling around Stefan’s head, the subsequent drama is set in motion. Before audiences can settle in, however, the film leaps forward a year in time, to find Katherine — a photographer who has since abandoned her home — receiving news that her mother (Mary Kay Place) is in Brussels, and in the hospital. Thus, Katherine’s long-delayed return trip to the scene of the crime begins.
“With a look of perpetual misery plastered across her face, Katherine is soon dealing with not only her mother’s fragile brain-related condition, but also her nasty mother-in-law Anneke (Julie Khaner), who resents Katherine for stealing away the affections of her beloved boy. Back in the residence she fled, Katherine is compelled to confront the marital messiness that immediately preceded Stefan’s death, including a tabloid scandal involving leaked pictures of him with a mysterious woman. Wracked by questions about Stefan’s fidelity, as well as whether foul play was to blame for his demise, Katherine transforms herself into an amateur sleuth, trawling the darker corners of Brussels — and her memory — to solve what she suspects may be a whodunit.
“That endeavor leads Katherine to an underground nightclub run by Emile (Evans), a live-wire who was Stefan’s best friend since childhood (unbeknownst to Katherine), and who attempts to bed her by tricking her into snorting heroin. While eying Emile as a potential suspect, she strikes up an unlikely rapport with Edward (Shannon), a hotel neighbor who first introduces himself by drunkenly trying to enter her room. In Rear Window fashion, Katherine uses her camera to watch Edward through their adjacent windows. Yet despite a guilelessness that verges on bluntness, Edward is anything but a Raymond Burr-ish villain. Before long, their shared feelings of dislocation and longing — for connection, understanding, and relief from their loneliness — draws them into a tentative romance.
“Using Waterston’s changing hairstyle as a way to identify where different scenes fit in the film’s chronology, Danluck cross-cuts between past and present with stream-of-consciousness fluidity, creating a hypnotic mood in harmony with her hazy metropolitan milieu and Katherine’s dazed-and-confused headspace. To that end, State Like Sleep is bolstered by Jeff Wingo and David Mcilwain’s piano-and-electronica score, and moreover, by DP Blauvelt’s rapturous work. His woozy imagery is awash in reflections and light flares, filtered through streaky windows and translucent barriers, and marked by unexpected compositions that lend the action a striking, disorienting edginess.
“Waterston embodies Katherine as a lost soul consumed by delusional sorrow, and around the edges of her morose expressions, one can spy the woman’s marrow-deep desperation. Just as assured are Evans and Shannon, both of whom initially come across as neo-noir archetypes — the volatile underworld scumbag and the charming but untrustworthy stranger, respectively — and then skillfully develop surprising angles to their characters. Seething with irrepressible resentment, Khaner steals every scene she’s in, including a climax that plays like a startling slap to a slumbering face.”
JANUARY 4 (streaming on Netflix): And Breathe Normally (dir. Isold Uggadottir) (DP: Ita Zbroniec-Zajt) – Variety’s Sundance Film Festival review by Alissa Simon: “A struggling Icelandic single mother forms an unlikely bond with a female asylum seeker from Guinea-Bissau in the impressively acted social-realist drama And Breathe Normally from debuting helmer-writer Ísold Uggadóttir. Reminiscent of the work of Ken Loach or the Dardenne brothers, it unfolds amid grim, desolate-looking landscapes that supply the antithesis of Iceland’s tourist brochures. Although some might find the twists and turns of the narrative to occasionally defy credibility, others will be swept along with the gripping human dilemmas of the main characters. Further festival action is a given, especially since it includes zeitgeist topics such as poverty, refugees and LGBT issues.
“Tough, tattooed Lara (Kristín Thóra Haraldsdóttir) strives to stay a few steps ahead of the debt collector yet still provide cute and uncomplaining kindergartner son Eldar (Patrik Nökkvi Pétursson) with the occasional treat, such as rescue cat Músi. She’s not one to accept the kindness of strangers; when someone else in the grocery line offers to cover the toilet paper she can’t pay for, she just pushes the item out of her pile.
“Director-writer Uggadóttir keeps viewers on their toes by subtly providing clues to Lara’s chariness, rather than spelling things out. We learn that her mother lives in Norway, she has not always had custody of her son, that a problem with drugs lies in the past and may resurface and that she has the occasional tryst with the mother of her son’s best friend.
“A lifeline for Lara’s financial situation seems to materialize when the border security forces at Keflavík, Iceland’s main airport, offer her a position as a trainee. And it’s there she first crosses paths with Adja (Babetida Sadjo), who is in transit to Canada on a fake French passport. After Lara flags the passport to her trainer, Adja winds up stranded in Iceland, first with a short prison term, then stuck in a run-down refugee center at the rough edges of the Reykjanes peninsula while the government considers her request for asylum.
“Meanwhile, money isn’t coming in fast enough for Lara, who, hounded by her landlord, puts her few belongings in storage and convinces Eldar that they are going on a secret adventure that involves sleeping in the car. Although Iceland would certainly provide support for housing and basic needs for a single mother like Lara, her unwillingness to seek or accept formal help leads her to make some unwise decisions. In a scene that hits hard with its straightforward simplicity, Uggadóttir shows mother and son satiating their hunger with chicken kebabs from a grocery store demonstration, reinforcing her message that not all of the needy are willing or able to partake of government services.
“When the paths of Lara and Adja cross again, it’s Adja who provides surprising succor, sneaking the mother and son into the refugee center so that they have a place to wash and a bed to sleep in. While this plot point might strain plausibility for some, ‘This American Life’ just reported on the unbelievable chaos and confusion at one small refugee court in Laredo, Texas, so who knows how carefully monitored Iceland’s isolated refugee housing really is.
“Just as one starts to predict what the ultimate arc of the screenplay will be, Uggadóttir, a Columbia University MFA graduate known for her prize-winning shorts, throws in a few twists, showing that Adja and Lara have more in common than they would have guessed. What might, in other hands, be melodramatic or emotionally manipulative remains resolutely unsentimental here.
“In what is essentially a three-hander, Guinea-born Belgian actress Sadjo impresses with her dignity and warmth. Meanwhile, petite Haraldsdóttir displays such patience and love for her son that she keeps viewers rooting for her to overcome her obstacles despite her occasional bad judgment. And young Pétursson is a delight as the least whiny child ever.
“Polish lenser Ita Zbroniec-Zaj, who has done excellent work for Scandinavian helmers such as Måns Månsson, Hanna Sköld and Goran Kapetanovic, provides the standout tech credit here. The turbulent autumn weather and rugged landscapes of Iceland practically become another character. She also visually reinforces the leitmotif of being trapped with images such as the cats at the rescue shelter and stowaways at the harbor, as well as plays of light and shadow throughout. The melancholy score by Gísli Galdur also makes a strong impression.”
JANUARY 4: Communion (dir. Anna Zamecka) (DP: Malgorzata Szylak) – Reverse Shot essay by Caroline Madden: “Communion opens with a medium shot of a young man’s laborious struggle to put his belt through the loop of his pants. ‘Wrong, wrong, wrong,’ Nikodem (Nikodem Kaczanowski) says, chastising himself as he twists it backwards and fumbles with its clasp. Writer and director Anna Zamecka lingers on Nikodem’s strain to the point of discomfort, visually embodying the simmering pain and frustrations that embroil him and his family. Shot in Poland for 35 days over the course of a year, Zamecka’s debut feature unfolds in a measured and unvarnished style that reflects her anthropologist’s eye. She originally wanted to make a short fiction film based on her childhood—’It had to be fiction,’ Zamecka explains, ‘because I didn’t know how to begin to look for real people that had this similar situation’—but after serendipitously meeting the Kacanowski family she decided to document their lives instead. Communion concerns the devastating and ironic contradictions of 14-year-old girl Ola (Ola Kacanowski) tasked with nursing her autistic younger brother, Nikodem, and alcoholic father, Marek (Marek Kacanowski). Nikodem’s impending communion ceremony serves as the narrative fulcrum, an event that Ola hopes will reunite her with her absent mother, Magda (Magda Kacanowski).
“Ola occupies the vacancy left by Magda, tending to Nikodem and Marek with a resolute and tenacious spirit. She reminds her father not to drink, cooks his meals, cleans the home, keeps his appointments, and assists him in writing a letter to their landlord. But it is her relationship with the obstreperous Nikodem that puts her fortitude to the test. The simplest tasks—tying his shoes, giving him a bath, or quizzing him on Scripture—are made all the more difficult by his disability, which leaves him distracted and jittery. Nikdoem even self-identifies with the kinetic energy of animals, frequently pretending to be a lion.
“Every so often the pressures of Ola’s domestic role boil to the surface; at one point, after she must repair a broken cabinet door, she shouts, ‘I’ve had enough—is nothing normal in this place?’ The muted colors, mismatched vintage wallpaper, and threadbare furnishings of Ola’s home reflect her aberrant lifestyle and the fractured nature of her family. Zamecka juxtaposes these immuring, tattered interiors with the brightness and vitality of Ola’s social life: the idyllic woods where she plays with friends, or the electronic pulsations and flashing lights of a school dance. These are brief, invigorating respites from the adult responsibilities that encumber her. Aside from some of Ola’s friends, few characters appear outside of her familial orbit. She meets with a social worker, but Zamecka keeps his face off-screen, focusing instead on Ola’s careful replies and minute expressions. The priest who counsels Nikodem is shown only in profile, but we can still sense his exasperation as he tries to wrangle and prepare Nikodem for his sacrament. By obfuscating these adult bodies, Zamecka symbolizes the lack of institutional intervention available to this family.
“Communions are momentous and ornate occasions in Polish culture, but Nikodem’s spiritual milestone arrives without much fanfare. Left alone before the ceremony, Ola gingerly fixes her hair with a half-broken brush, then wrestles with the zipper of her fancy yellow-tulle dress. ‘I feel like a cartoon character!’ she cries, suspecting that she is merely costuming herself in the part of a daughter with a functional nuclear family. When Magda eventually returns, Zamecka collapses her long-awaited arrival under the weight of the family’s rigid tension and banality, suggesting that Ola must abandon her naïve self-delusions and acknowledge that the fault lines between her parents are irreparable. The reunited family remains mostly silent during the post-communion dinner, wolfing down their food. Ola scrounges for every second she can have that day with her mom, who makes discreet phone calls to her new partner to barter for more time with her children. There are indications that this other man is abusive, but Zamecka shrouds the adults’ personal details and history in mystery, perhaps to reflect the children’s unawareness. Ola’s wish comes true when her mother decides to move back in, but then she is saddled with caring for her infant half-sibling and mediating her parents’ fierce bickering. Thus, the tiny apartment seems more claustrophobic than ever, with bodies constantly crowding the film’s frame.
“The sacrament of communion is meant to foster one’s independent relationship with God, but it is the earthly relationships that are at stake in Communion. In regards to Ola’s mother, one of the social workers tells her, ‘There are two of you—it is a mutual relationship,’ but that is hardly the case. The lack of reciprocity in the adult/child relationships in Communion is disquieting; because of her absent parents, Ola endures hardships that no child should have to bear. Holy Communion also symbolizes a child’s entry into adulthood because they confront the idea that they are born with sin, but Ola and Nikodem’s innocence has long been lost, and they are the ones who must pay for the adults’ sins. Although the siblings’ parents care for them, they cannot see past their own problems. In her captivating and unsettling portrait of lost youth, Zamecka follows her destitute subjects with a patient and intimate observational style, imbuing the narrative with a palpable tension and touching upon her film’s many emotional notes with a quiet grace.”
JANUARY 4 (streaming on Netflix): El Potro: Unstoppable (dir. Lorena Muñoz) – Netflix synopsis: “Argentine cuarteto singer Rodrigo ‘El Potro’ Bueno rises to fame amid personal struggles in this dramatization of the charismatic superstar’s life.”
JANUARY 4 (streaming on Netflix): Lionheart (dir. Genevieve Nnaji) – Toronto International Film Festival synopsis: “The directorial debut of one of Africa’s biggest screen stars, Lionheart shows Nigeria’s Genevieve Nnaji taking full creative control of the kind of empowering story that endeared her to Nollywood audiences all over the world. The director and co-writer also stars in the film as Adaeze, a savvy businesswoman who is itching to take over the reins of her father’s transport enterprise. Blinded by sexism, Dad favours his son for the top job, forcing Adaeze to work even harder to realize her ambition without seeming to go against her father’s wishes; but when she discovers that the family company has a faulty financial foundation, she is finally compelled to take the driver’s seat. Fresh from its world premiere at this year’s Toronto International Film Festival, Nnaji’s vibrant and engaging drama evokes both King Lear and 9 to 5.”
JANUARY 4: Rust Creek (dir. Jen McGowan) (DP: Michelle Lawler) – IFC Center synopsis: “An ordinary woman must summon extraordinary courage to survive a nightmare odyssey in this harrowing survival thriller. Sawyer (Hermione Corfield) is an ambitious, overachieving college senior with a seemingly bright future. While on her way to a job interview, a wrong turn leaves her stranded deep in the frozen Kentucky woods. Suddenly, the young woman with everything to live for finds herself facing her own mortality as she’s punished by the elements and pursued by a band of ruthless outlaws. With nowhere left to run, she is forced into an uneasy alliance with Lowell (Jay Paulson), an enigmatic loner with shadowy intentions. Though she’s not sure she can trust him, Sawyer must take a chance if she hopes to escape Rust Creek alive.”
JANUARY 11 (NYC/LA): Touch Me Not (dir. Adina Pintilie) – Museum of Modern Art synopsis: “‘Tell me how you loved me, so I understand how to love.’ Together, a filmmaker and her characters venture into a personal research project about intimacy. On the fluid border between reality and fiction, Touch Me Not follows the emotional journeys of Laura (Laura Benson), Tómas (Tómas Lemarquis), and Christian (Christian Bayerlein), offering a deeply empathic insight into their lives. Craving for intimacy yet also deeply afraid of it, they work to overcome old patterns, defense mechanisms, and taboos, to cut the cord and finally be free. Touch Me Not looks at how we can find intimacy in the most unexpected ways, at how to love another without losing ourselves.”
JANUARY 16: What Is Democracy? (dir. Astra Taylor) (DP: Maya Bankovic) – Zeitgeist Films synopsis: “Coming at a moment of profound political and social crisis, What Is Democracy? reflects on a word we too often take for granted.
“Director Astra Taylor’s idiosyncratic, philosophical journey spans millennia and continents: from ancient Athens’ groundbreaking experiment in self-government to capitalism’s roots in medieval Italy; from modern-day Greece grappling with financial collapse and a mounting refugee crisis to the United States reckoning with its racist past and the growing gap between rich and poor.
“Featuring a diverse cast—including celebrated theorists, trauma surgeons, activists, factory workers, asylum seekers, and former prime ministers—this urgent film connects the past and the present, the emotional and the intellectual, the personal and the political, in order to provoke and inspire. If we want to live in democracy, we must first ask what the word even means.”
JANUARY 17 (in theaters), JANUARY 18 (on VOD & digital): All These Small Moments (dir. Melissa B. Miller-Costanzo) – Tribeca Film Festival synopsis: “Howie Sheffield (Brendan Meyer) is having rough year. He broke his arm, and, on top of that, he and his little brother Simon are unwilling witnesses to their parents’ (Molly Ringwald and Brian d’Arcy James) crumbling marriage. The only thing that keeps him going is the mysterious Odessa (Jemima Kirke), a young woman he sees everyday on his morning bus route. Soon, Howie’s worlds begin to collide as he cultivates a tentative friendship with his beguiling classmate Lindsay (a sensational Harley Quinn Smith), as Odessa is drawn into his circle, and as his parents struggle with whether to stay together or split up.
“First-time writer and director Melissa Miller Costanzo brilliantly brings to life this absorbing coming-of-age tale with heartfelt, nuanced storytelling and genuine intimacy. Shot on the streets of New York City, All These Small Moments features familiar neighborhoods and street corners that seem to change and expand alongside Howie as he travels a circuitous path to self-discovery and adulthood.”
JANUARY 18 (in theaters & on VOD): An Acceptable Loss (dir. Joe Chappelle) (DP: Petra Korner) – IFC Center synopsis: “She was the ultimate patriot. Now, what she knows could bring down the government. Libby Lamm (Tika Sumpter) is a former top national security advisor who, while working with Rachel Burke (Jamie Lee Curtis), a ruthless, steely-willed political veteran, signed off on a controversial military action that was supposed to end the war on terror. The problem: thousands died under false pretenses. Haunted by what she knows, Libby sets out to tell the truth, risking treason—and her own life—to expose a cover-up that stretches all the way to the highest levels of government. This gripping saga of lies, conspiracy, and betrayal is an explosive look at what it takes to do the right thing—even if that means going up against your own country.”
JANUARY 18 (in theaters & on VOD): Adult Life Skills (dir. Rachel Tunnard) (DP: Bet Rourich) – NPR’s Tribeca Film Festival (2016) review by Linda Holmes: “One of the best things about covering film festivals — like the Tribeca Film Festival, where I’ll be for a couple of days — is seeing people’s work with very little context around it. By the time films are released in theaters, particularly when they’re being heavily marketed, I usually know a lot about them. I know something about what to expect, I know a good bit about the directors and actors, and very often, the film has been on various planning calendars for months.
“But particularly with smaller or midsize festivals (Tribeca is lower in profile than Toronto, for instance), I often run into things I’ve never even heard of until they show up in the film guide. Not only is this a useful reminder of just how much art is being made at all times of which even professional critics are unaware or vaguely aware, but it’s a chance to meet a piece of work with almost no expectations at all.
“Adult Life Skills is the first feature from writer-director Rachel Tunnard, who first made a short called Emotional Fusebox that was nominated for a BAFTA award. She calls the short a ‘pilot’ for Adult Life Skills, which is having its world premiere here at Tribeca.
“The film stars Jodie Whittaker — whom I knew as the grieving mother in Broadchurch and whose other credits include Attack The Block and Black Mirror — as Anna, a woman about to turn 30 who’s living in the shed in her mother’s garden. Mom is about ready to kick her out, but Anna mostly stays holed up in there, making low-fi web videos where she draws faces on her thumbs. She has an outgoing best friend who wants her recover from what turns out to be buried grief, an awkward maybe-suitor, a plain-spoken grandma, and a sad child living next door who craves her attention even as she only reluctantly gives it to him.
“There are pieces of a lot of familiar stories here: a little About A Boy, a little Young Adult, a little Bridget Jones even. More than that, though, Adult Life Skills pulls from the deep well of the Quirky Oddball Picture, recalling everything from Juno to Submarine to Moonrise Kingdom. There is a quality to it that feels not necessarily cliched, but familiar. And what it amounts to in that regard is a genre film.
“It only makes sense that just as superhero films draw on other superhero films, and romances on romances and mysteries on mysteries, stories about the quirky oddball’s journey would influence each other and grow their own tropes. The composition of the shots that often isolates the oddball traveling across the screen, the editing rhythms, the frequent use of what High Fidelity called ‘sad bastard music’ — it would be easy to see the patterns emerge and to disengage on the theory that you’ve seen the film before.
“But as with any genre film, the trick is execution. Whittaker is so good in this role, so believable and sympathetic, that even the expected beats that perhaps shouldn’t work can work. Similarly, the press notes say that there was originally to be no potential love interest until Tunnard came across Brett Goldstein and wrote him a role as an offbeat old friend of Anna’s who gives the best explanation of the ending of Grease that I’ve ever heard, by the way. His role is small enough but valuable enough that it makes sense. It may be an outgrowth of that fact that because the film was conceived without a romantic element, the romantic element doesn’t seem like the driver of Anna’s story but the result of it, and that’s a good thing.
“That’s not to say Adult Life Skills doesn’t flirt with driving itself into a ditch. Let us be frank about children for a moment: putting a moppet in your movie is a dangerous thing, particularly if that moppet is in acute need, as the neighbor kid Clint is here. It can feel like a fat thumb on the scale, forcing emotion from the audience and even blackmailing it out of other characters in unnatural ways. But Ozzy Myers, whom Tunnard says she found at a school in Leeds and who had never acted before, is so unforced as Clint, and his chemistry with Whittaker is so good, that they pretty much pull it off. Here’s hoping experience with acting doesn’t ruin his acting.
“One of the curious things about recognizing a movie’s general style as fitting within your experience of films generally or festival films in particular is that when something happens that isn’t quite what you’re expecting, it jumps toward you. There is a moment late in the film in which Tunnard unexpectedly cuts to an embrace between Anna’s mother (Lorraine Ashbourne) and grandmother (Eileen Davies) that instantly takes both beyond being essentially the frustrated, disappointed mother and the frank, wise grandmother. It communicates an enormous amount about what’s been going on under Anna’s nose that she hasn’t seen because she is so withdrawn and so sad. That’s the kind of little spin on the formula that makes a genre work stand out.
“I can’t imagine a person experienced with offbeat English-language films of the last ten years not seeing much that’s familiar in Adult Life Skills, but it’s a lovely movie with some very good performances and it makes some very good choices. As, eventually, does Anna.”
JANUARY 18 (streaming on Netflix): Close (dir. Vicky Jewson) – Netflix Media Center synopsis: “Inspired by the life of the world’s leading female bodyguard, Jacquie Davis, the film follows Sam (Noomi Rapace), a counter-terrorist expert used to war zones, who takes on the job of protecting Zoe (Sophie Nélisse), a young and rich heiress — a babysitting job for her. But a violent attempted kidnapping forces the two to go on the run. Now they’ve got to take some lives — or lose theirs.”
JANUARY 18 (in theaters & on VOD/digital): Egg (dir. Marianna Palka) (DP: Zelmira Gainza) – The Playlist’s Tribeca Film Festival review by Kimber Myers: “With this sharp satire, director Marianna Palka continues poking and prodding at the various phases of women’s lives. In her 2008 directorial debut Good Dick, she took aim at dating with its anti-romantic comedy approach. Her 2017 pitch-black offering Bitch explored the life of a stay-at-home mother and wife who is so fed up with her treatment by her cheating husband and misbehaving kids that she begins acting like a vicious dog. With Egg, Palka makes what could be a thematic prequel to Bitch as its characters dissect the many decisions around pregnancy, childbirth, and the gender roles of raising children.
“When Karen (Christina Hendricks) visits her art school friend Tina (Alysia Reiner), the stark contrasts between the two are immediately clear. Karen and her husband, Don (David Alan Basche), are fast approaching the due date of their first child, and they take a traditional approach to pregnancy and parenting. Meanwhile, Tina and her husband, Wayne (Gbenga Akinnagbe), are forging a different path to parenthood. Tina is a conceptual artist and as a part of her upcoming ambitious show on motherhood, she is using Wayne’s friend Kiki (Anna Camp) as a surrogate for their baby. Over the course of an afternoon at Tina and Wayne’s Brooklyn loft, they discuss the merits of each couple’s choices as well as the larger philosophical debate around women and their relationships – or lack thereof – to motherhood. When Kiki finally appears, clad in cutoffs and bemoaning her belly, the day takes an unexpected turn.
“Egg has the air of a stage play, with most of the film composed of people talking in a single location. But there’s real attention paid to the visuals, beyond just production designer Sally Levi’s detailed, lived-in creation of an artist’s loft and studio. As director of photography, Zelmira Gainza shoots the space with warmth and strong framing, keeping it from feeling like you’re watching a filmed theatrical piece with no sense of the cinematic medium.
“Palka’s last film, Bitch, had an equal satirical bite to this one, but it was intentionally over the top in its depiction of behavior and choices. Here Risa Mickenberg’s screenplay does amplify the absurdity of its characters and their situations for effect, but all five people in this film seem as though they could really exist, though you might not want to know them in real life. Egg may be making a statement, but the interaction between Karen and Tina largely is authentic, as their dynamic moves between long-simmering competition, outright animosity and sympathetic support. It all works due to Hendricks and Reiner’s performances, who offer emotional grounding to the comedy. Akinnagbe, Basche, and Camp are each hilarious, but the two leads make Egg both funny and real.
“The satire focuses not only on women’s own relationships to motherhood but also on how they’re judged, regardless of what their choices are, in every aspect of it. That judgment comes from all angles: other women, their partners and themselves. Egg deserves credit for shedding a special light on women who actively choose not to be mothers, a subject that might be growing on women’s sites but still isn’t often depicted on screen. Despite all the judgment of these characters by other characters, Egg itself refuses to do the same to them. It may poke fun at Karen and Tina, but it never says that their choices around motherhood aren’t valid and deserving of happiness. Its ultimate sympathy for these women may be at odds with earlier jabs at them, but it creates an empathetic space that is surprisingly emotionally satisfying.”
JANUARY 18: Who Will Write Our History? (dir. Roberta Grossman) (DP: Dyanna Taylor) – Quad Cinema synopsis: “With a wealth of archival footage and detailed re-enactments, this film recounts the incredible story of Emanuel Ringelblum, who secretly led a team of writers and intellectuals to preserve a vibrant Jewish culture in the Warsaw Ghetto shortly after the Nazis took over. What resulted was a startlingly deep and diverse portrait of European Jewish life, as the Oyneg Shabes Archive made an invaluable contribution to the historical record. Based on the book by Samuel Kassow.”
JANUARY 25 (streaming on Netflix): Ánimas (dirs. Laura Alvea and Jose F. Ortuño) – Sitges Film Festival synopsis: “Alex (Clare Durant) is a girl with a strong personality. She’s very close to her best friend Abraham (Iván Pellicer), a shy, insecure boy as a consequence of his complex relationship with his parents. Everything changes when Abraham’s father (Luis Bermejo) dies in a bizarre accident. From this moment on, Alex will be thrust into a mind-bending trip where the line between reality and nightmares will start to start to blur.”
JANUARY 25: Manikarnika: The Queen of Jhansi (dirs. Radha Krishna Jagarlamudi and Kangana Ranaut) – AMC Theatres synopsis: “Manikarnika: The Queen of Jhansi is the story of Rani Lakshmi Bai of Jhansi (Kangana Ranaut) who refused to cede Jhansi to the British and fought a fierce battle. Her life story is a tale of bravery, valor and woman’s strength to inspire generations to come.”