Tonight I screened Emma Peeters, starring Monia Chokri and Fabrice Adde.
Emma (Chokri) is a thirty-something actress who spends her days juggling auditions for parts she doesn't get with a dead-end job at an electronics store, where she miserably succeeds in becoming the top salesperson. She decides that life is no longer worth living and begins an elaborate plan to commit suicide on her birthday.
As preparations begin, she encounters an enthusiastic funeral director, Alex (Adde), who comments that she doesn't appear sick. One thing leads to another and they become close as her self-imposed deadline approaches.
Sounds pretty grim, right? Well, it could be, but here it's more of a morbid-black-comedy vibe than a sad one, no matter how depressing her progress becomes.
Throw in a persistent cat named Jim (after Morrison), clueless parents and selfish friends and you can sort of see why Emma is disillusioned. That said, the thought of suicide isn't pleasant and the closer she gets to going through with it, the more you pray as an audience member that the happy ending film formula will win out and save her life.
You'll have to see the film to learn how it turns out, but I personally could have done with less squirming along the way.
~~~
Emma Peeters screened at the 45th annual Seattle International Film Festival.
Showing posts with label black comedy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label black comedy. Show all posts
Tuesday, May 28, 2019
Sunday, January 14, 2018
Phantom Thread
Today I saw Phantom Thread, starring Daniel Day-Lewis and Vicky Krieps.
Your enjoyment of this film will depend primarily on the lens in which you choose to view the main character, Reynolds (Day-Lewis), a celebrated dressmaker in 1950s London.
One path leads you to a creative genius who is the opposite of eccentric, favoring everything in very specific (perhaps obsessive compulsive) ways. His emotional palette must be clear to begin his morning work; his space must be free from distractions—and if all demands are met, peace remains and politeness ensues.
Another view of Reynolds shows you a narcissistic, paranoid control freak who must maintain a specific decorum to command the respect he feels he's due. Abusive, hypersensitive and passive aggressive, he's attracted to women only for what he can use them for, whether that be modeling, sewing, cooking, serving or sex.
You choose.
Alma (Krieps) is taken by his charm and gets quickly caught up in the glamour of his craft. She's young, but she's also a lot smarter than he (and his imposing live-in sister) gives her credit for. Though appreciative of his talents she can't be bothered with his rules (like not buttering her bread so loudly) and soon devises a most clever way of making him appreciate her. I felt like cheering when she first put her plan into place.
Like all Paul Thomas Anderson films, the score is itself a character, but here I appreciated it more than felt it a nuisance. The pomp and circumstance associated with high fashion in some way warrants it, or even invites it.
Of course the main reason to see the film, unless you're a sucker for claustrophobic tension, is Day-Lewis, who claims this is his last big screen performance. I hope to God he's bluffing, but if he isn't, it's safe to say (as usual) he gave it his "all" and offered complexities to the character that I'm confident no other human being on earth could achieve.
But no, on the whole I didn't really like the film.
Maybe it's the present social climate for women that's to blame, but to be held hostage for over two hours by the whims of a high maintenance brat who happens to be good at his job while a clever, attractive woman adjusts every ounce of her life to accommodate or manipulate his just isn't pleasurable.
And the dresses weren't my style.
~~~
Your enjoyment of this film will depend primarily on the lens in which you choose to view the main character, Reynolds (Day-Lewis), a celebrated dressmaker in 1950s London.
One path leads you to a creative genius who is the opposite of eccentric, favoring everything in very specific (perhaps obsessive compulsive) ways. His emotional palette must be clear to begin his morning work; his space must be free from distractions—and if all demands are met, peace remains and politeness ensues.
Another view of Reynolds shows you a narcissistic, paranoid control freak who must maintain a specific decorum to command the respect he feels he's due. Abusive, hypersensitive and passive aggressive, he's attracted to women only for what he can use them for, whether that be modeling, sewing, cooking, serving or sex.
You choose.
Alma (Krieps) is taken by his charm and gets quickly caught up in the glamour of his craft. She's young, but she's also a lot smarter than he (and his imposing live-in sister) gives her credit for. Though appreciative of his talents she can't be bothered with his rules (like not buttering her bread so loudly) and soon devises a most clever way of making him appreciate her. I felt like cheering when she first put her plan into place.
Like all Paul Thomas Anderson films, the score is itself a character, but here I appreciated it more than felt it a nuisance. The pomp and circumstance associated with high fashion in some way warrants it, or even invites it.
Of course the main reason to see the film, unless you're a sucker for claustrophobic tension, is Day-Lewis, who claims this is his last big screen performance. I hope to God he's bluffing, but if he isn't, it's safe to say (as usual) he gave it his "all" and offered complexities to the character that I'm confident no other human being on earth could achieve.
But no, on the whole I didn't really like the film.
Maybe it's the present social climate for women that's to blame, but to be held hostage for over two hours by the whims of a high maintenance brat who happens to be good at his job while a clever, attractive woman adjusts every ounce of her life to accommodate or manipulate his just isn't pleasurable.
And the dresses weren't my style.
~~~
Sunday, January 05, 2014
Inside Llewyn Davis
Today I saw Inside Llewyn Davis, starring Oscar Issac and Carey Mulligan.
Llewyn Davis (Issac) is a 'starving artist' musician in New York. The year is 1961; the mood is grim.
Jean (Mulligan) and Jim (Justin Timberlake) are fellow folk singers who run in the same circles as Llewyn, and Llewyn may or may not have impregnated Jean. This is only one of the apparent many reasons that she hates him.
Davis seems to have a case of perpetual bad luck, but it's terribly hard to sympathize with him because his demeanor is so unappealing. You've met those people—the ones who whine and whine and act as if they're the only person in the world that has to struggle? That's the type of sad sack that Davis encompasses.
So… light attracts light and dark attracts dark. When you fall into a tunnel of darkness and refuse to climb out of it (or lose the will to at least try), you'll only spiral further down. And Davis, who couch surfs his way though his miserable life, is one big ball of darkness.
Jean is so full of venom that we barely even notice when Mulligan's American accent slips or her character tries to do a nice thing for Llewyn. We're way past her by then, having coated us in such anger.
That leaves the brief (but shining) performances by Timberlake and John Goodman to keep things light, and for a few moments they do. Timberlake leading the best song in the film, "Please Mr. Kennedy," and Goodman a passenger on the road trip from hell. Both brilliant performances that gave great flavor to the film.
I can't pretend the Coen brothers haven't done better. This isn't in the same ballpark as No Country for Old Men or The Man Who Wasn't There, but it's not terrible either.
Just make sure you see it when you're in a bright mood or it might bring you down.
~~~
Llewyn Davis (Issac) is a 'starving artist' musician in New York. The year is 1961; the mood is grim.
Jean (Mulligan) and Jim (Justin Timberlake) are fellow folk singers who run in the same circles as Llewyn, and Llewyn may or may not have impregnated Jean. This is only one of the apparent many reasons that she hates him.
Davis seems to have a case of perpetual bad luck, but it's terribly hard to sympathize with him because his demeanor is so unappealing. You've met those people—the ones who whine and whine and act as if they're the only person in the world that has to struggle? That's the type of sad sack that Davis encompasses.
So… light attracts light and dark attracts dark. When you fall into a tunnel of darkness and refuse to climb out of it (or lose the will to at least try), you'll only spiral further down. And Davis, who couch surfs his way though his miserable life, is one big ball of darkness.
Jean is so full of venom that we barely even notice when Mulligan's American accent slips or her character tries to do a nice thing for Llewyn. We're way past her by then, having coated us in such anger.
That leaves the brief (but shining) performances by Timberlake and John Goodman to keep things light, and for a few moments they do. Timberlake leading the best song in the film, "Please Mr. Kennedy," and Goodman a passenger on the road trip from hell. Both brilliant performances that gave great flavor to the film.
I can't pretend the Coen brothers haven't done better. This isn't in the same ballpark as No Country for Old Men or The Man Who Wasn't There, but it's not terrible either.
Just make sure you see it when you're in a bright mood or it might bring you down.
~~~
Sunday, August 11, 2013
Blue Jasmine
Yesterday I saw Blue Jasmine, starring Cate Blanchett and Sally Hawkins.
Jeanette (Blanchette) changed her name to Jasmine years ago because her given name wasn't elegant enough. It seems everything in her life needs to be coated in luxury for her to feel normal.
She meets Hal (Alec Baldwin), a wealthy businessman, marries him and lives a charmed life in Manhattan until her world falls out from under her when he's arrested for a white collar crime.
Broke and directionless, she attempts to start over in San Francisco where her sister Ginger (Hawkins) lives a much more middle class life.
A black comedy with the darkest of undertones, the absurdity of Jasmine's grief often gets the biggest laughs, as her mourning focuses more on the material things she lost than the husband she loved.
Blanchett gives an Oscar-worthy performance as a woman on the brink of cracking, popping pills and offering a healthy amount of product placement for Stoli vodka. She's both funny and tragic; ridiculous in most scenes, but still genuine enough to garner sympathy from the audience.
The supporting cast is nothing short of brilliant as well—Hawkins is a down-to-earth sister with more patience for her sibling than most would have; Bobby Cannavale and Louis C.K. prove appropriately comical as her suitors. As usual, Baldwin is perfectly cast as the slimy former husband.
Allen is on a roll—Midnight in Paris, To Rome with Love and now this. Satisfying, delightful stories with colorful characters coming to life.
~~~
Jeanette (Blanchette) changed her name to Jasmine years ago because her given name wasn't elegant enough. It seems everything in her life needs to be coated in luxury for her to feel normal.
She meets Hal (Alec Baldwin), a wealthy businessman, marries him and lives a charmed life in Manhattan until her world falls out from under her when he's arrested for a white collar crime.
Broke and directionless, she attempts to start over in San Francisco where her sister Ginger (Hawkins) lives a much more middle class life.
A black comedy with the darkest of undertones, the absurdity of Jasmine's grief often gets the biggest laughs, as her mourning focuses more on the material things she lost than the husband she loved.
Blanchett gives an Oscar-worthy performance as a woman on the brink of cracking, popping pills and offering a healthy amount of product placement for Stoli vodka. She's both funny and tragic; ridiculous in most scenes, but still genuine enough to garner sympathy from the audience.
The supporting cast is nothing short of brilliant as well—Hawkins is a down-to-earth sister with more patience for her sibling than most would have; Bobby Cannavale and Louis C.K. prove appropriately comical as her suitors. As usual, Baldwin is perfectly cast as the slimy former husband.
Allen is on a roll—Midnight in Paris, To Rome with Love and now this. Satisfying, delightful stories with colorful characters coming to life.
~~~
Monday, January 18, 2010
A Serious Man
Today I saw A Serious Man, starring Michael Stuhlbarg and Richard Kind.
Larry Gopnik (Stuhlbarg) will remind you of every Jewish man you've ever met. Not in a stereotypical way, but in a cultural way.
He seldom feels the need to raise his voice. His appearance is neat and tidy. His wife is bold and controlling. His work and his children and his property mean a lot to him.
Though he appears to be a dedicated husband, father and professor, each part of his world is slowly being dismantled by external forces. His wife is leaving him for his friend, his children are stealing and taking drugs, and a disgruntled student is attempting to sue him because he won't unfairly inflate his grade.
He also has a frightening militant neighbor, a live-in brother (Kind) who is in trouble with the law and difficulty getting an appointment with the sought-after rabbi at his temple. What would bury most men simply piles up in his mind, causing unavoidable nightmares.
I felt sorry for Larry—not just because he didn't appear to deserve all of the bad things that happened to him, but because his meek nature allowed it to continue. He solves most of these problems by throwing money at them (retaining a lawyer, paying for a motel room to sleep in when his wife kicks him out), but at least he's pressing on.
His resolve in the face of adversity is admirable, and though the scenes and situations are undoubtedly comical, it is refreshing to see a main character who doesn't run from his problems or throw things against a wall when things don't go his way.
Stuhlbarg plays the character expertly with quiet intensity. We can feel his tension and pain, but he doesn't burden us with it; it's all kept inside for him to manage. That is partly a credit to the odd, yet solid script from The Coen Brothers. It feels like a screenplay they spent time on, much like The Man Who Wasn't There, and their Oscar-winning No Country for Old Men.
There are many layers to A Serious Man that us viewers don't get to see, but what we do witness is endlessly satisfying. If how we react to things in life defines us, Larry Gopnik serves as a good example of how to deal.
Larry Gopnik (Stuhlbarg) will remind you of every Jewish man you've ever met. Not in a stereotypical way, but in a cultural way.
He seldom feels the need to raise his voice. His appearance is neat and tidy. His wife is bold and controlling. His work and his children and his property mean a lot to him.
Though he appears to be a dedicated husband, father and professor, each part of his world is slowly being dismantled by external forces. His wife is leaving him for his friend, his children are stealing and taking drugs, and a disgruntled student is attempting to sue him because he won't unfairly inflate his grade.
He also has a frightening militant neighbor, a live-in brother (Kind) who is in trouble with the law and difficulty getting an appointment with the sought-after rabbi at his temple. What would bury most men simply piles up in his mind, causing unavoidable nightmares.
I felt sorry for Larry—not just because he didn't appear to deserve all of the bad things that happened to him, but because his meek nature allowed it to continue. He solves most of these problems by throwing money at them (retaining a lawyer, paying for a motel room to sleep in when his wife kicks him out), but at least he's pressing on.
His resolve in the face of adversity is admirable, and though the scenes and situations are undoubtedly comical, it is refreshing to see a main character who doesn't run from his problems or throw things against a wall when things don't go his way.
Stuhlbarg plays the character expertly with quiet intensity. We can feel his tension and pain, but he doesn't burden us with it; it's all kept inside for him to manage. That is partly a credit to the odd, yet solid script from The Coen Brothers. It feels like a screenplay they spent time on, much like The Man Who Wasn't There, and their Oscar-winning No Country for Old Men.
There are many layers to A Serious Man that us viewers don't get to see, but what we do witness is endlessly satisfying. If how we react to things in life defines us, Larry Gopnik serves as a good example of how to deal.
Monday, November 03, 2008
Happy-Go-Lucky
Tonight I saw Happy-Go-Lucky, starring Sally Hawkins and Eddie Marsan.
I hate it when critics oversell a film.
Going into this one, I was excited about the prospect of being uplifted by a refreshing character that always saw the glass as half full. Instead I was met with an incredibly annoying leading lady and a string of scenes that don't really mesh, but are forcibly woven together like an unfinished quilt.
Poppy (Hawkins) is an elementary schoolteacher that makes it her life's mission to cheer other people up. Or, she's just goofy. It's hard to tell in the piece-y scenes that have her alternately bouncing on trampolines, falling in love, flamenco dancing and attempting to help a troubled student. Each bit could have merit if it were allowed the chance to develop, but none of them really do.
None, except for the series of bits about her taking driving lessons. Yes—she's supposed to be a thirtysomething in a big city in England, yet she doesn't know how to drive. Suspending that disbelief, she hires a company to teach her how and gets assigned the Worst Driver on Planet Earth (Marsan). Not only is he surly to her, he's dangerous on the road and many of their scenes are borderline disturbing (and if they're not disturbing, they're excruciatingly irritating).
Is the film 100% bad? No. There are delightful (and more realistic scenes) with Poppy's sister, roommate and other friends that make you feel that you're watching a Cyndi Lauper video (in a good way), and the love story near the end is actually somewhat sweet.
I just found it hard to root for someone I wouldn't be able to be in the same room with if she were real.
I hate it when critics oversell a film.
Going into this one, I was excited about the prospect of being uplifted by a refreshing character that always saw the glass as half full. Instead I was met with an incredibly annoying leading lady and a string of scenes that don't really mesh, but are forcibly woven together like an unfinished quilt.
Poppy (Hawkins) is an elementary schoolteacher that makes it her life's mission to cheer other people up. Or, she's just goofy. It's hard to tell in the piece-y scenes that have her alternately bouncing on trampolines, falling in love, flamenco dancing and attempting to help a troubled student. Each bit could have merit if it were allowed the chance to develop, but none of them really do.
None, except for the series of bits about her taking driving lessons. Yes—she's supposed to be a thirtysomething in a big city in England, yet she doesn't know how to drive. Suspending that disbelief, she hires a company to teach her how and gets assigned the Worst Driver on Planet Earth (Marsan). Not only is he surly to her, he's dangerous on the road and many of their scenes are borderline disturbing (and if they're not disturbing, they're excruciatingly irritating).
Is the film 100% bad? No. There are delightful (and more realistic scenes) with Poppy's sister, roommate and other friends that make you feel that you're watching a Cyndi Lauper video (in a good way), and the love story near the end is actually somewhat sweet.
I just found it hard to root for someone I wouldn't be able to be in the same room with if she were real.
Monday, May 26, 2008
Monday, April 21, 2008
Forgetting Sarah Marshall
Tonight I saw Forgetting Sarah Marshall, starring Jason Segel.
It was the topic of Cinebanter #50, which is available here.
It was the topic of Cinebanter #50, which is available here.
Saturday, February 16, 2008
Tanghi Argentini
Today I saw Tanghi Argentini, one of the Oscar® nominees in the Live Action Short Film category.
In this 14-minute wonder, Belgium's Guido Thys brings us the sweet story of a man desperate to learn the tango so he can impress a date he's met on the Internet (with a screen name like "Bing Crosby" you can't help but root for him).
After much persuasion, he convinces a co-worker to teach him the crucial moves and what unfolds after that is pure delight.
This easily earned its nomination.
In this 14-minute wonder, Belgium's Guido Thys brings us the sweet story of a man desperate to learn the tango so he can impress a date he's met on the Internet (with a screen name like "Bing Crosby" you can't help but root for him).
After much persuasion, he convinces a co-worker to teach him the crucial moves and what unfolds after that is pure delight.
This easily earned its nomination.
Sunday, December 09, 2007
Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street
This morning I screened Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street, starring Johnny Depp and Helena Bonham Carter.
The story, based on the popular musical, follows barber Benjamin Barker on his journey from happy family man to vicious killer. But there's more to it than that.
Without sounding like a complete cinelitist, many people will probably see and dismiss this movie as nothing more than a typical Burtonesque display of cool effects and crazy makeup. And that's a shame—because if they dig deeper and focus not only on the visual rewards, but the heart of the characters, they'll see a more profound film.
As usual, Johnny Depp (Barker) is brilliant as the main character, wearing more expressions on his powder-pale face than any other man could possibly muster. He is darling as a charming husband and father, then equally as effective as a violent monster. Alan Rickman is also notably good as his rival, Judge Turpin. Rounding out the main cast is the always-convincingly-creepy Helena Bonham Carter as Mrs. Lovett, a terrible pie maker who falls in love with Todd and becomes his key accomplice in murder.
If we unveil the allegory, we are left with this: terrible, unforgivable things happen to a good, decent person, robbing him of his faith in all of mankind. As a result, he retreats to a place so dark that he loses every trace of the person he once was, allowing negativity to thrive in its absence. That darkness arrives in the form of a typical jealous woman who will go to great lengths to conceal truth and protect her own interests. Only when it's too late will he realize that she has betrayed him and that he could've regained all that he lost—had be been open to just behavior.
Of course, because it's Burton, this is all masked in dark eyeliner and Einstein hair, but the core of the message remains clear. And it is delivered in a charming, if not slapstick, bloody way.
Were it not for the distractions like Sacha Baron Cohen (as a cartoonish con artist) and a wimpy sailor (Jamie Campbell Bower), this would've been practically flawless.
But then again, no one can be expected to make two Edward Scissorhands in one career. Even with the same genius actor.
The story, based on the popular musical, follows barber Benjamin Barker on his journey from happy family man to vicious killer. But there's more to it than that.
Without sounding like a complete cinelitist, many people will probably see and dismiss this movie as nothing more than a typical Burtonesque display of cool effects and crazy makeup. And that's a shame—because if they dig deeper and focus not only on the visual rewards, but the heart of the characters, they'll see a more profound film.
As usual, Johnny Depp (Barker) is brilliant as the main character, wearing more expressions on his powder-pale face than any other man could possibly muster. He is darling as a charming husband and father, then equally as effective as a violent monster. Alan Rickman is also notably good as his rival, Judge Turpin. Rounding out the main cast is the always-convincingly-creepy Helena Bonham Carter as Mrs. Lovett, a terrible pie maker who falls in love with Todd and becomes his key accomplice in murder.
If we unveil the allegory, we are left with this: terrible, unforgivable things happen to a good, decent person, robbing him of his faith in all of mankind. As a result, he retreats to a place so dark that he loses every trace of the person he once was, allowing negativity to thrive in its absence. That darkness arrives in the form of a typical jealous woman who will go to great lengths to conceal truth and protect her own interests. Only when it's too late will he realize that she has betrayed him and that he could've regained all that he lost—had be been open to just behavior.
Of course, because it's Burton, this is all masked in dark eyeliner and Einstein hair, but the core of the message remains clear. And it is delivered in a charming, if not slapstick, bloody way.
Were it not for the distractions like Sacha Baron Cohen (as a cartoonish con artist) and a wimpy sailor (Jamie Campbell Bower), this would've been practically flawless.
But then again, no one can be expected to make two Edward Scissorhands in one career. Even with the same genius actor.
Saturday, November 03, 2007
Bee Movie
This morning I saw Bee Movie, featuring the voices of Jerry Seinfeld and Renee Zellweger.
What a breath of fresh air!
Full disclosure: I'm not a huge animation fan. In fact, save for The Simpsons Movie, I don't think I've seen an animated film in the theater since the anniversary of Yellow Submarine, so seeing this today was somewhat out of the ordinary for me. I'm glad I followed my instinct and ignored my self-imposed snobbiness though, because I really would have missed out on something great if I'd passed it up.
The story begins with Barry (Seinfeld) graduating from beehood and preparing to enter the job force, which basically consists of making honey exclusively. Adventure-seeker that he is, before he finalizes his career choice, he takes a trip outside the hive to see what the human world is like. While he's there (in present-day New York City), he falls in love with a human, Vanessa (Zellweger), and discovers the travesty that is bee slavery as he flies past the honey aisle at the grocery store.
What commences is somewhat of an animated genius that includes all of the components of a live-action Hollywood film: a sweet romance, courtroom drama, suspenseful action sequences, surprising celebrity cameos and a wink of an ending.
The voices are distinct (who could miss Chris Rock as the cunning mosquito?) but not at all distracting. Particularly great is John Goodman as the fat human defense attorney. And what's more, there are just as many jokes for the adults to laugh at as there are for the kids.
Go see this one in the theater—the bright yellow hues of the 'sets' cast a sunny glow on the whole production, which is nothing short of charming.
What a breath of fresh air!
Full disclosure: I'm not a huge animation fan. In fact, save for The Simpsons Movie, I don't think I've seen an animated film in the theater since the anniversary of Yellow Submarine, so seeing this today was somewhat out of the ordinary for me. I'm glad I followed my instinct and ignored my self-imposed snobbiness though, because I really would have missed out on something great if I'd passed it up.
The story begins with Barry (Seinfeld) graduating from beehood and preparing to enter the job force, which basically consists of making honey exclusively. Adventure-seeker that he is, before he finalizes his career choice, he takes a trip outside the hive to see what the human world is like. While he's there (in present-day New York City), he falls in love with a human, Vanessa (Zellweger), and discovers the travesty that is bee slavery as he flies past the honey aisle at the grocery store.
What commences is somewhat of an animated genius that includes all of the components of a live-action Hollywood film: a sweet romance, courtroom drama, suspenseful action sequences, surprising celebrity cameos and a wink of an ending.
The voices are distinct (who could miss Chris Rock as the cunning mosquito?) but not at all distracting. Particularly great is John Goodman as the fat human defense attorney. And what's more, there are just as many jokes for the adults to laugh at as there are for the kids.
Go see this one in the theater—the bright yellow hues of the 'sets' cast a sunny glow on the whole production, which is nothing short of charming.
Tuesday, August 14, 2007
Sunday, August 05, 2007
The Ten
Today I saw The Ten, starring Paul Rudd and Winona Ryder.
It is the topic of Cinebanter #37, which is available for download here.
After you listen, be sure to leave us comments on our site or e-mail us at cinebanter@gmail.com.
It is the topic of Cinebanter #37, which is available for download here.
After you listen, be sure to leave us comments on our site or e-mail us at cinebanter@gmail.com.
Sunday, June 24, 2007
Paris Je'Taime
Yesterday I saw Paris Je'Taime, starring Natalie Portman and Elijah Wood.
It will be the topic of Cinebanter 33, so tune in on July 3 for our review.
It will be the topic of Cinebanter 33, so tune in on July 3 for our review.
Saturday, June 16, 2007
Sex and Death 101
Last night I screened Sex and Death 101, starring Simon Baker (pictured below signing autographs after the premiere) and Winona Ryder.
Stay tuned to Cinebanter for my upcoming review.
Stay tuned to Cinebanter for my upcoming review.
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