The Man I Love review – Rami Malek needs a lighter touch in Ira Sachs’ 80s Aids drama

Cannes film festival: Sachs’ film about an HIV-positive actor in the homophobic Reagan-era 80s is well-intended, but Malek’s mannered performance is hard to love This film from writer-director Ira Sachs gives us premium-strength, undiluted Rami Malek – but I have to say that his overripe performance and self-conscious mannerisms here are perhaps even more oppressively insistent for being conveyed relatively quietly in spoken dialogue. And not quietly at all in the singing scenes. Malek is a performer whose style is as distinctive as those of John Malkovich or Jeff Goldblum. But it works best with a light touch in the direction and material. Things never really come together here. The Man I Love is a film about gay culture in 1980s New York, at the height of the reactionary homophobia of Reagan’s America, with HIV-positive men coming to terms with their condition and with the callous bigotry of the political zeitgeist. In one hospital scene, we see the authorities’ icily unsympathetic ...

What Remains review – sky squid confounds Stellan Skarsgård in true-life Scandi noir

Skarsgård and his son Gustaf sparkle in Ran Huang’s rarefied film, but can’t rescue this weirdly hallucinatory murder mystery from falling flat

This intense psychological drama has a squid in the sky problem. Specifically it’s that, by its halfway point, Ran Huang’s rarefied Scandinavian crime feature has fully established a predilection for spooky visual motifs, including eerie establishing shots and nocturnal scenes so murky it’s hard to know what’s going on (although the keening, discordant musical soundtrack suggests it’s probably something bad). And then seemingly out of nowhere, after a particularly emotional moment, there’s a cut to a forest treeline where some kind of cephalopod is floating in the sky, tentacles waving like one of those plastic “sky dancers” often seen in American car dealerships’ parking lots. Is it supposed to be a hallucination of the main character, Mats Lake (Gustaf Skarsgård), a troubled psychiatric patient who has recently confessed to a string of murders? Immediately after the squid shot, which lasts all of 12 seconds, the next one is of an impassive policeman smoking a cigarette, looking at the sky. Is he the one who sees the giant sea creature up there, but is somehow not even bothered? Is it supposed to be a metaphor? Or one of those fancy film-school distancing effects?

Given that the beastie is never explained, I’m guessing it’s meant to be a vexingly opaque symbol of what’s going on in the film itself. Basically, here is something bizarre and totally inexplicable happening in the peaceful Scandinavian countryside that’s so odd that nobody can process it – so no one comments on it, as if it’s not even happening. That would apply equally to the child murders Mats lays claim to, as well as the sexual abuse he claims his own father subjected him to when he was a child – abuse that his brother, Ralf (Magnus Krepper), does not recall at all. But Mats’ therapist, Anna Rudebeck (Andrea Riseborough), believes what Mats is saying, as does police detective Soren Rank (Stellan Skarsgård). Their faith in Mats as both perpetrator and victim is so profound that, when the evidence starts looking shaky and Mats fails to lead the police to a single victim’s body, they go on believing in him for reasons connected to their own troubled psyches.

Continue reading...

from Film | The Guardian https://ift.tt/A2pzgPD
via IFTTT

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

The Miracle Club review – Maggie Smith can’t save this rocky road trip to Lourdes

‘I lost a friend of almost 40 years’: Nancy Meyers pays tribute to Diane Keaton

Malaika Arora scolds 16-year-old dancer for inappropriate gestures: “He is winking, giving flying kisses”