Movies

At this year’s Cannes, bleak is the new black and miserable endings are très chic

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In the charming town of Cannes, France, the weather is notoriously unpredictable, making it necessary to be prepared for sudden shifts from sunshine to rain showers. On a particular Friday, I found myself dashing back to my room to don a warmer top for an outdoor event shrouded in clouds. Upon peeking out of the window, I decided to throw on a jacket as well. However, upon looking outside once more, I was taken aback to find the sun had miraculously emerged. By the time I hurriedly returned to the Croisette (dressed in something sleeveless), the cocktail hour had already come to an end. Such is life!

The concept of mutability serves as a charming metaphor for the experience of watching movies. Just as you might feel that everything has been altered after an exceptional film, so too does one perceive a transformation in the world. Conversely, when a movie is disappointing, it can be jarring for the director to see their vision so dramatically reversed. Prior to the premiere, they were riding in luxury cars provided by film festivals, only to have friends stutteringly compliment their footwear afterwards.

Movies

Wes Anderson crafted ‘The Phoenician Scheme’ specifically for the actors. Ahead of its premiere at Cannes, we had a chat with Del Toro about the most significant part he has ever played in his career.

Harris Dickinson, the young, talented British actor who held his own against Nicole Kidman in last year’s “Babygirl,” appeared a bit frazzled as he introduced the premiere of “Urchin,” his first directorial venture. With no jacket or tie, and his dress shirt sleeves rolled up carelessly, he quickly quipped, “I’m feeling a little jittery, but I hope you enjoy it – and if you don’t, please let us know kindly.

In my opinion, the air pressure in Cannes is remarkably intense, yet on the silver screen (thus far, at least), the wind seems to be consistently blowing from the south. Interestingly, nearly every movie presented so far follows a character navigating a storm – be it a legal, moral, political, or psychological tempest – only to be cast against the rugged cliffs of their circumstances.

Eddington,” directed by Ari Aster, offers a contemporary western spin, taking place during the scorching and tumultuous summer of 2020, in New Mexico – a time marked by pandemic anxiety and societal unrest. The film skillfully taps into our collective memories of that chaotic period, when daily life was punctuated with coronavirus safety measures, George Floyd’s tragic death, and the persistent rumors of Antifa protests. Building on his success in making horror emotionally resonant with “Hereditary,” Aster now satirizes our shared post-traumatic stress experience.

As a fervent admirer, let me share my perspective on this intriguing narrative: I find myself captivated by Joaquin Phoenix’s portrayal of Joe, a sheriff whose compassionate nature occasionally cloud his judgment. In the quaint rural town of Eddington, governed by an ambitious mayor (Pedro Pascal), who insists on a mask mandate, Joe expresses skepticism, arguing that COVID-19 hasn’t yet reached their secluded community – though this may or may not be the case. The viral videos circulating in the town seem to have instilled a sense of paranoia and misinformation among its residents, including Joe’s wife (Emma Stone) and mother-in-law (Deirdre O’Connell), who are deeply engrossed in conspiracies ranging from child trafficking to the Titanic.

Eddington’s youth activists, predominantly white and performative, engage in TikTok dances to express their supposed fervor for James Baldwin while demanding the town’s sole Black deputy (Micheal Ward) to kneel. It appears that no one in Eddington speaks honestly, but everyone blindly believes what they hear. This compelling story promises a fascinating exploration of truth, misinformation, and societal norms.

Joe from Phoenix often enjoys Henry Fonda films and sports a symbolic white hat. However, his abilities to keep things in order are questionable, as evidenced by a misspelled sign on his police car that reads “Your being manipulated.” Given the events of May 2020 and beyond, we wouldn’t trust Aster even if he claimed to be a savior. Despite this, it’s hard to feel compassion for bumbling, clueless Joe when he complains, “Don’t you think the power is with the police?

In the movie “Dossier 137,” directed by Dominik Moll, the protagonist is Stéphanie (played by Léa Drucker), a single mother and police officer. Previously, she worked on narcotics cases. However, her current role involves collecting evidence when fellow officers are charged with misconduct. This movie, which draws inspiration from real-life events, is set following the 2018 Paris protests. The main plot revolves around a group of undercover police officers who supposedly fired a rubber bullet at a 20-year-old demonstrator, causing severe injury to the front of his skull.

In this series, Moll has crafted a gripping procedural that leaves me with clammy hands. Despite her assertions that she holds no personal feelings, Stéphanie’s ex-spouse and their new partner in blue, both officers, label her as a betrayer. However, it’s hard to believe she’s unaffected as she grills both the accusers and the accused with an unwavering resolve. Watching Stéphanie methodically piece together the puzzle and make the liars squirm is captivating. Yet, she remains oblivious to the grand scheme: Despite her exceptional skills, she’s not destined to be a hero.

In a different phrasing, Sergei Loznitsa’s “Two Prosecutors,” a drama set during Stalin’s era, follows its main character on an unavoidable path. This journey is tethered to cynicism, much like a train adhering to its rails. The protagonist, a young law student named Aleksandr Kuznetsov, seeks to question a prisoner whom the government wishes to keep hidden. The voices that once courageously criticized the Soviet regime are now muffled. Today, even those swearing loyalty to their leader find themselves imprisoned during the Great Purge.

Systematically monotonous and gloomy, the central motif of the movie portrays Kuznetsov, whose nose seems to bear an accidental yet intentional injury, traversing endless dreary corridors. He’s courteous and stoic, but it’s clear he’s making no progress. The film feels like a bitter joke with a predictable ending. I appreciated it, but tedious and unavoidable aren’t the best of companions. The weary traveler sitting beside me dozed off for a nap.

At “Sirât”, a gripping film that had its late-night audience on the edge of their seats, snoring was scarcely heard. As Oliver Laxe’s fourth Cannes masterpiece, it delved into the lives of unconventional revelers who had congregated in an arid region of Morocco for a breathtaking celebration: vibrant orange cliffs, pulsating neon lights, electrifying EDM beats, and dancers writhing in the dust as if they were the undead. The only individuals who seemed untouched by the intoxicating atmosphere were a father (Sergi López) and his son (Bruno Núñez), both hoping to locate the boy’s sister – a free-spirited soul lost amidst this endless dance of freedom on the open road. However, when the festivities were disrupted by the authorities, this fractured family found themselves joining a caravan, heading vaguely towards another gathering. The next destination? Unforeseen perils awaited.

The actors in this small group seem like they’ve experienced an apocalypse. Some are without limbs and most are heavily tattooed. As these damaged vans race across the desert, it seems that “Sirât” believes the era of “Mad Max” has arrived. However, Laxe’s portrayal of death is brutal, unpredictable, and intriguing. He doubts if we can create a community to endure this harsh world. At best, he offers us a slim chance of success. I’m not sure yet if the film is comedic or profound, but I look forward to watching it again. Even if “Sirât” turns out to be more pessimistic than optimistic, seeing another audience react to its intense shocks will be a pleasure.

Let’s return to our focus on Harris Dickinson, whose latest film “Urchin” has garnered quite the positive response – even great reviews. Previously, he graced the Cannes Film Festival as the lead in Ruben Östlund’s “Triangle of Sadness,” but it’s important to note that he is not just an actor, he’s a budding director too. It’s high compliments to his acting skills that I wouldn’t want him to give up his current profession anytime soon.

A street urchin, named Mike (played exceptionally well by Frank Dillane), chases after a man who seems to be both boy and man, addicted to drugs and surviving on the streets of London for five years. In essence, Dickinson has modernized the Dickensian theme; Mike begs for ketamine, vodka, and spare change in a manner similar to how Oliver Twist asked for porridge. However, this isn’t an emotional tale meant to evoke pity. Instead, “Urchin” is full of energy and vibrancy: it includes humorous asides, small moments of joy, instances of relatable recognition, and bursts of visual psychedelia.

Mike gets numerous opportunities to transform his situation, but he remains steadfast in his ways, which leaves us alternating between fearing for him and fearing of him throughout the movie. The screenplay by Dickinson serves to illustrate not only how quickly one can descend the social ladder, but also what a minor advancement might entail, even if the overall tone is more about the futile struggle (Sisyphean) than self-improvement.

Following the movie, I slipped out into the light rain and found myself in a cozy café. There, a fellow was engrossed in conversation with another, discussing his transition from technology to filmmaking – it’s my preferred spot for overhearing interesting chats like this one.

He was wealthy and accomplished,” he shared, poking at the other’s charcuterie platter, “but I felt the need for something more captivating. Now, he confessed, he’s financially struggling and divorced. Yet, there was a sense of peace about him. He sent his script to Quentin Tarantino, hoping that one day at Cannes, it would be his turn to receive applause and limousine rides. Perhaps the wind will shift in his favor. A remarkable film can indeed transform one’s life.

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2025-05-18 11:31

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