A World of Kino 37 | Eternals, Spencer, The French Dispatch, In The Mood For Love & more

Welcome back to your favourite film blog, here with another episode of new releases – both good and bad – alongside a healthy dose of classics for a varied diet.

A long review to warm us up for the rest of the episode, and what better movie to do it with than with Marvel’s latest outing? I give you Eternals.

The Eternals are a team of ancient aliens who have been living on Earth in secret for thousands of years. When an unexpected tragedy forces them out of the shadows, they are forced to reunite against mankind’s most ancient enemy, the Deviants.

Ah, Eternals, the laughing stock of the internet for being the most panned Marvel movie by critics. Also directed by Chloe Zhao, a director who has inexplicably managed to win a bunch of awards in spite of her mediocrity. But although I found the trailers to be overwhelmingly poor, I was willing to give Eternals the benefit of the doubt, since I was proved wrong with No Time To Die and Dune. And surprisingly enough, my feelings on Eternals is rather nuanced, to say the least; though at the same time, I definitely agree with the critics on this one. 

Frustratingly enough, there are so many fascinating concepts being juggled here, but all of it is let down by the film being so damn boring. It’s not even that there’s too many characters, as they’re all introduced and developed well, with intriguing quirks and powers to make a fairly solid heart for the film. Nor that the fights are lame, because despite a drab colour palette, the fights contain some fun choreography amidst many very pretty wide shots. The plot is also fairly interesting, because aside from the large, ambitious themes I already mentioned, the narrative does take some rather engaging – albeit laughably predictable – twists. As a sci-fi action movie, Eternals should succeed for me… and yet it doesn’t.

What makes Eternals fail, in my eyes, is that it lacks that indescribable quality in a film called ‘energy’. Now, ‘energy’ is a hard thing to try and define, as it’s simply the invisible spirit of a film that keeps it feeling alive – the rhythm that gives it that impulse to keep going forward, rather than just drag its feet to the finish line. Needless to say, Eternals lacks this quality, which rather causes all of its grandiosity to feel dreadfully shallow. It’s genuinely hilarious just how low in energy Eternals is, with all of the scenes taking such a woefully roundabout way to get to the point, the pauses during fights feeling embarassingly awkward, the occassionally beautiful visuals never managing to find purchase in something tangible, and the dialogue becoming a terribly dreary afair that even seemed to be boring the cast. It does get somewhat better as the film progresses to its inevitably bombastic climax, but the journey to get there could be such a pain at times. 

Even though I did not like Zhao’s Eternals, I do still somewhat respect it for what it tries to accomplish, even if Zhao executes it pretty incompetently. This film does admittedly have a lot of potential, and with another draft of the screenplay – alongside a better director to helm the project – I could see this being an incredible addition to the MCU in much the same way as Shang Chi was able to accomplish. But eventhough all of the parts to make a great movie are there, Eternals just doesn’t succeed to bring it all together in a satisfying enough manner. 

I’m not much of a fan of royalty, and I’ve never understood the adoration for Diana. She was before my time, of course, but Spencer does shine a good light on a topic I’m fairly disinterested in.

Spencer covers a critical weekend in the early ‘90s, when Princess Diana decided her marriage to Prince Charles wasn’t working, and that she needed to veer from a path that put her in line to one day be queen.

I love the way this film looks. Shot on film but using modern techniques, capturing the spectacular production design with such beautiful cinematography and intimate editing. Although Kristen Stewart does still carry some of her phony mannerisms from Twilight, she’s given an abundance of scenes in which to shine and rise above her sour beginnings, even above the likes of Timothy Spall, Sean Harris and Sally Hawkins, who themselves give great performances. Narratively speaking, however, Spencer does not quite live up to its potential, because while Diana’s own torment is explored impeccably, the parallels made with Anne Boleyn definitely veered far too much into absurdity with all those silly apparitions. Nevertheless, this is certainly a well made film with a strong lead performance – although I seriously wish my cinema would just let me watch The Last Duel and Last Night in Soho instead.

I don’t know why I neglected watching this when it came out, because I enjoyed the first two as a kid. Thankfully, my patron forced me to finish the trilogy of How To Train Your Dragon.

As Hiccup fulfills his dream of creating a peaceful dragon utopia, Toothless’ discovery of an untamed, elusive mate draws the Night Fury away. When danger mounts at home and Hiccup’s reign as village chief is tested, both dragon and rider must make impossible decisions to save their kind.

I suppose that narratively speaking The Hidden World is pretty lackluster, but the animation is utterly spectacular. There’s an incredible merger of cartoonish design with near photorealistic graphics happening here, with every frame popping in mesmerising colours and dynamic movement. The themes are also wonderfully explored, with heartfelt character arcs that create a most bittersweet final act – although the poor humour does put a damper on that maturity. But all in all, this is a pretty good conclusion to the How to Train Your Dragon trilogy. 

A double bill now for the Hong Kong legend Wong Kar-wai: Fallen Angels and In The Mood For Love.

In this bifurcated crime narrative, a disillusioned hitman attempts to escape from his violent lifestyle against the wishes of his partner, who is infatuated with him, and an eccentric mute repeatedly encounters, then subsequently falls for a depressed woman looking for the prostitute who supposedly stole her ex-boyfriend’s affections.

I was given a pretty poor first impression of Wong Kar-wai with Chungking Express, as I found it an annoying narrative and stylistic mess of a film. But the jittery handheld photography works much better here in Fallen Angels than it did in Chungking Express, and even the low shutter speed effect – that I so often find annoying – feels more stylistically appropriate. But while Wong Kar-wai certainly crafts Fallen Angels with a unique, chaotically beautiful style, I found it rather hard to vibe with the messy, unfocused narrative. The divergent plots kill the pacing, without even properly coalesceing at any point to end cathartically. With that said, the film has so many gorgeous scenes sprinkled throughout, with so many lively characters populating the night city, constantly piling on top of each other to gradually make me find its weirdness endearing. I do highly appreciate what Wong Kar-wai tried to do here, though I still much prefer it when he’s restrained like with In The Mood For Love.

Speaking of which, In The Mood For Love is hands down my favourite WKW film. Free of stupid experimentation, In The Mood For Love is comfortable being just a phenomenally constructed film from start to finish. Wong Kar-wai is laid back and methodical in his directing here, never feeling the need to overly prove his artistic merits because every shot already looks so divine. The mise-en-scene is dominated by a burgundy that has never looked so beautiful, highlighted with intricate precision by green and blue tints – as well as the ocassional mesmerising billow of cigarette smoke and sublime refractions of mirrors – to lift the image off the screen. The exquisite shot composition doesn’t even stop there though, reaching its pinnacle with a myriad of gorgeous, slo-mo musical montages that heighten the subtle ruminations bubbling underneath the surface (although I will admit they do get a bit repetitive, which is an unfortunate parallel with Chungking Express‘s incessant use of Hotel California). The narrative sadly didn’t entice me quite as much as I was hoping, but the characters are all so lively and well performed – especially Tony Leung, who adorably looks like a lost puppy – that I was engaged for the entire runtime all the same. In The Mood For Love is simply a solidly told, hyper-melancholic story, with the most euphoric craftmanship one could hope for.

Another double bill now, this time for two of Ingmar Bergman’s most famous films: Wild Strawberries and Persona.

Crotchety retired doctor Isak Borg travels from Stockholm to Lund, Sweden, with his pregnant and unhappy daughter-in-law, Marianne, in order to receive an honorary degree from his alma mater. Along the way, they encounter a series of hitchhikers, each of whom causes the elderly doctor to muse upon the pleasures and failures of his own life.

Wild Strawberries is undoubtedly a great film, touching on so many captivating, melancholic themes. I was a little dissapointed by The Seventh Seal – my first Bergman film – as despite loving it when it was fully dedicated to its existential crisis, the narrative itself felt so jumbled with far too many extra characters. Thankfully, with Wild Strawberries Bergman fully hones in on the main character’s spiritual journey, with the side characters auxiliary to his story. I do still feel more could have been done however, as although the road trip was a lot of fun with many memorable encounters, I was less engaged with his dreamy confrontations of the past, ending in a manner I just didn’t feel was fully satisfying. But even so, I’m happy to at least recognise the value in what Bergman does here, which is amusingly thematically consistent with the Wong Kar-wai stuff I’ve also been watching recently. 

A young nurse, Alma, is put in charge of Elisabeth Vogler: an actress who is seemingly healthy in all respects, but will not talk. As they spend time together, Alma speaks to Elisabeth constantly, never receiving any answer. Alma eventually confesses her secrets to a seemingly sympathetic Elisabeth and finds that her own personality is being submerged into Elisabeth’s persona.

Ok, I was not expecting Persona to be such a surrealist nightmare of a film. Bergman is usually so quietly contemplative, but here he goes full Artaud and it’s one of the most haunting things I’ve ever experienced. I can’t say I loved what it was doing, but I was definitely hooked right from the start, because the editing is mesmerising with some truly beautiful uses of chiaroscuro. Narratively speaking it might be a bit too dense, as most scenes are essentially just a long rambling monologue followed by eternally prolonged periods of silence. But it’s all performed so well with such unremitting dedication to its ruminations – both gentle and hostile – that I was along for the ride regardless as it hurtled towards that harrowing ending. This is definitely the best Bergman film I’ve seen thus far, though I fear this was his peak.

Two very quick reviews now before the grand finale, starting with Devil in a Blue Dress.

In late 1940s Los Angeles, Easy Rawlins is an unemployed black World War II veteran with few job prospects. At a bar, Easy meets DeWitt Albright, a mysterious white man looking for someone to investigate the disappearance of a missing white woman named Daphne Monet, who he suspects is hiding out in one of the city’s black jazz clubs. Strapped for money and facing house payments, Easy takes the job, but soon finds himself in over his head.

A really well made detective movie with nigh perfect pacing. Denzel Washington is great as always, and Don Cheadle is hilarious with his trigger-happiness. I feel the plot could have easily honed in more on some threads though, but then again that may have taken away from its streamlined pacing. Devil in a Blue Dress isn’t exactly ambitious in its scope or deep in its examination of anything; it just tells a riveting mystery in an extremely intriguing manner.

Final short review, because although I do like Ready or Not, I just don’t have much to say about it.

A bride’s wedding night takes a sinister turn when her eccentric new in-laws force her to take part in a terrifying game.

A brilliant concept refined to perfection. Samara Weaving absolutely shines as she transitions from petrified prey to feral beast, pushing past all the blood and pain with fantastically gruesome dedication. The multitude of deaths that happen along the way – from the intentional to the utterly unexpected – are hilariously gory, climaxing with an ending that couldn’t be any more cathartic. 

It’s no secret I’m not a fan of Wes Anderson, and yet I really dug the vibe The French Dispatch was going for.

The staff of a European publication decides to publish a memorial edition highlighting the three best stories from the last decade: an artist sentenced to life imprisonment, student riots, and a kidnapping resolved by a chef.

The French Dispatch is essentialy comprised of three films nested into a larger one, with the vignettes that focus on entirely different and unrelated characters representing pieces in a magazine, and so they very much feel like dramatizations of what’s been written. Anderson doubles down on his style to make this work, which I think works terrifically here, as the film really pops with a wholly unique sense of artistic expression. Benicio Del Toro, Timothee Chalamet, and Jeffrey Wright shine as the leads in their respective stories, but the entire film is heavily populated with an immensely talented cast who all excel in their roles. There isn’t a single bad performance or mistep of directorial intent here, allowing the entire thing to coalesce nicely into a beautiful tapestry. 

I guess I just finally get Wes Anderson’s style, because I found the way he plays around with dimensions really inventive. Every single shot is so purposefully crafted, overflowing in creativity with fun stories nested inside a narrative structure that – while not exactly lending itself to good pacing – is remarkably engaging. I’ve heavily disliked Anderson’s manner of writing in the past, as he makes no attempt to mask exposition or add subtlety to his character’s goals and emotions, but with this film I found it surprisingly appropriate for the story. I find it amusing that this is the film a lot of Anderson’s fans found dissapointing, because I’m just relieved to be appreciating the value of his work once and for all.