The House - Directed by Emma de Swaef, Marc James Roels, Niki Lindroth von Bahr, and Paloma Baeza
The magician known as “Teller” is often quoted as saying the secret to performing mind-blowing tricks and illusions is to practice and prepare to a ridiculous degree. “Sometimes,” Teller has said, “Magic is just someone spending more time on something than anyone else might reasonably expect.” This is one of the main reasons why stop-motion animation remains so magical. In an era when computers can conjure up almost any image an animator can conceive, the very idea that a team would spend days, weeks, months, and even years painstakingly moving little models a fraction of an inch at a time is impressive. And the resultant effect is just as amazing: at once wondrous and subtly unsettling, as if the real world around us were filled with objects just waiting to spring to life.
A quasi-horror picture—more of a quietly arty creep-out than a full-on shocker—The House takes advantage of the inherent otherworldliness and timelessness of stop-motion, to tell three linked, untitled stories about people and creatures who get trapped in an elegantly furnished nexus between realities. The first chapter is a sort of origin story for the house itself. A family who has fallen on hard times is offered the house by a local architect. Shortly after they move in though strange developments begin to take place. The second segment features a current day house-flipper trying to sell the house from the first segment. The only problem is it’s infested with beetles. The final chapter is set in the near-future where climate change has devastated the landscape surrounding the titular house. A landlady trying to handle her deadbeat tenants receives a visitor who tries to show everyone in the house their old way of living is untenable.
There’s more to The House than just watching a bunch of little fellas scoot their way around a cool-looking set. There’s a unifying theme here, involving characters who are captivated by this building, and who think they can make something out of it: a safe shelter, a profit, a community, et cetera. Even when they’re being foolhardy—even when they’re refusing to see how their plans are impossible, given the state of the world—they keep struggling to make a go of it.
The House is streaming on Netflix
Kimi - Directed by Steven Soderbergh
Zoë Kravitz in Kimi
Paranoia has come a long way since the analog age. Nowadays, we purchase the listening and tracking devices ourselves, in the form of virtual assistants and GPS-equipped smartphones. While most of us have made our peace with trading some degree of privacy for convenience, those curious about a worst-case scenario—or just seeking some enjoyably implausible excitement—should look no further than Kimi, a new tech-heavy thriller written by David Koepp and directed by Steven Soderbergh. When this film is over, viewers with voice-activated smart TVs are liable to look around for the long-dormant physical remote.
It’s not as if Angela Childs (Zoë Kravitz) doesn’t understand exactly how much information these devices vacuum up. A former Facebook content moderator, Angela now works as a “voicestream interpreter” for fictional Amygdala (cutely named after the part of the brain responsible for threat assessment), responding to issues with commands given to an Alexa-style assistant called Kimi. Things get serious when one of the streams sent to Angela for analysis turns out to be a snatch of loud music (Massive Attack’s “Inertia Creeps,” another nice touch) beneath which a woman’s scream can be faintly heard.
What happens when someone with intense agoraphobia must enter the wider world in order to solve a crime and possibly save a life? What happens when that wider world is also neck deep in the Covid-19 pandemic? Kimi is a thrilling ride through the days when lockdown was in full swing. It’s a great mystery story and even when the plotting feels over the top and silly, Soderbergh’s craft is on full display and employed with such skill that it grounds the action and makes for quite the watch.
Kimi is streaming on HBO Max.
Turning Red - Directed by Domee Shi
Puberty can get a little, um, hairy. In Turning Red, it transforms 13-year-old Meilin (voiced by Rosalie Chiang) into a giant red panda, which effectively doubles as a not-so-subtle metaphor for puberty in this Pixar allegory. Circa 2002, Meilin is a Chinese Canadian girl: bespectacled, opinionated, overachieving, and musical-instrument playing. She’s reared in a traditional (i.e. unassimilated) Chinese household with a domineering tiger mom and an even keel maintaining father.
One morning Meilin wakes up to discover she’s transformed into a huge red panda, a hereditary condition among the women in her family upon the arrival of their menstrual cycle. She also learns the only way to overcome this dilemma is to perform an ancient ritual which of course lands on the same night that Meilin’s favorite boy band is playing a concert in her hometown of Toronto. What to do?!
In a time when Asian women in North America have endured so much hate and trauma, Turning Red is a little respite that celebrates them and their culture. We all need a little reassurance once in a while to stay true to ourselves, and Turning Red is speaking directly to generations of Asian women in the diaspora when they need to hear this the most.
Turning Red is streaming on Disney +
RRR - Directed by S.S. Rajamouli
(from left) N. T. Rama Rao Jr. as Komaram Bheem and Ram Charan as Alluri Sitarama Raju in S. S. Rajamouli’s RRR.
Full of colorful heroes, fiendish villains, staggering action sequences, dizzying dance numbers, and most of all, virtuous friendship, driven by feverish creativity and a sharp and unambiguous sense of pride for India’s people and their history, writer-director S. S. Rajamouli’s Telugu-language epic quickly became the word-of-mouth sensation of last year.
Not to be confused with Hindi-language standard bearer Bollywood, Telugu cinema, often called “Tollywood,” is a segment of Indian cinema created and produced in its namesake language. There are some similarities between Hindi and Telugu films, including vivid colors, ambitious musical numbers and operatic storytelling, but this film in particular shares almost as much in common with Hong Kong and American action films, and a worldwide interest in historical fiction.
Set in 1920s India, the film stars N. T. Rama Rao Jr. as Bheem, a warrior and protector of the Gond tribe who comes to Delhi to rescue a young girl named Malli (Twinkle Sharma) after she is abducted by tyrannical British governor Scott Buxton (Ray Stevenson) and his wife Catherine (Alison Doody). When a regional official warns the Brits about Bheem’s mission, Buxton solicits a volunteer, Officer A. Rama Raju (Ram Charan), to apprehend him in exchange for a promotion in the ranks of the state police. Although Bheem disguises his identity, the two men cross paths while rescuing a young boy from a train crash, and they soon develop a powerful friendship without realizing that they’re actually adversaries.
I won’t say more. RRR is a film to be experienced rather than read about. One quick note - it contains one of the best dance-offs I’ve ever seen.
RRR is streaming on Netflix.
Hustle - Directed by Jeremiah Zagar
Juancho Hernangomez as Bo Cruz and Adam Sandler as Stanley Sugerman in Hustle
Philadelphia Sixers talent scout Stanley Sugarman (Adam Sandler) has grown exhausted by the demands of his job, leapfrogging all over the world from plane to plane, hotel to hotel, and court to basketball court. Not only has it taken him away from his loving wife Teresa (Queen Latifah) and their aspiring filmmaker daughter Alex (Jordan Hull), it’s drastically dulled his career ambitions to one day coach the team he loves. On a trip to Spain, Stanley witnesses streetball player Bo Cruz (NBA player Juancho Hernangómez). He’s tall, talented, and tender-hearted, prizing his close relationship with his mother (Maria Botto) and precocious young daughter (Ainhoa Pillet). He’s also a virtual unknown with a troubled past. The two underdogs launch a quest to connect and prove themselves to their peers.
In between the formulaic and familiar story beats, screenwriters Taylor Materne and Will Fetters dig into the unspoken subtext that gives the characters their dynamic motors. Stan and Bo’s internal and external stakes are clearly defined and palpable, as is Vince’s modus operandi as he lashes out against Stan, his father’s favored surrogate son. Women in their world, who are traditionally tertiary in films like this, are blessedly important: Teresa, Alex, and Katherine (Heidi Gardner), Vince’s corporate-stock-holding sister, are integral forces who flex their own agency while augmenting the male arcs.
While the script delivers on the expected, it’s Zagar and his creative collaborators’ stylistic flourishes that provide the unexpected. The picture houses an incredibly affecting use of montage, musicality, and composition. Hustle plays admirably with a lot of passion, artistry, and intelligence. Predictable struggles surprisingly lead to resonant depths, showcased in both its technical proficiency and some soul-stirring sentiments about rising above adversity.
Hustle is streaming on Netflix