These are the movie premieres that hit the screens starting this March 21.
Por Philipp Engel
If the notable French documentary Una niña, available on Fimin, recounted the crusade of some parents to defend the gender identity of their young daughter in a decidedly hostile environment, determined to continue treating her like a man, the first feature by Estibaliz Urresola recreates , from a fiction inspired by not a few true stories, the previous step, when another family, this time Basque, invests a summer in discovering that Aitor, in reality, is Lucía. Little Sofia Otero made history at the Berlinale; the film swept Malaga, and left the closing of the D'A festival in a vale of tears.
Now it's time to make a hole for it on the billboard, and for this we confirm that, despite the fact that it is a project developed in parallel to the controversial Trans Law, and that already from the title it is announced as a film committed to diversity, it also deals with to flee from urgent pedagogy, as obviously from any hint of sensationalism, and ventures into a poetic ruralism in the key of feminine melodrama from which men have been excluded: one because he is separating and the other because he is dead.
The aplomb with which little Otero parades in search of recognition from the inhabitants of such a bucolic microcosm is fascinating, while she discovers herself, and maintains, throughout the entire footage, a particular pulse with her troubled mother (Patricia López Arnáiz), a woman surpassed by her three children, who is already a large family; for a second divorce in the air; due to his job crisis, which is also one of artistic creativity, not to mention his differences, more or less pronounced, with each and every one of the women in his family, and his own identity problems, linked to the conflictive paternal inheritance .
While the girl deals with her own, the mother collects problems. Perhaps too many, even for those of us who are used to it. There is something motley there, excusable in a first film inevitably focused on treating with the utmost delicacy the extremely sensitive issue of child transsexuality. And yet, the film manages to penetrate other levels, since it simply reminds us that taking care of our loved ones is about paying attention to them, and we all lack time for that. It is not uncommon for the autopilot of our lives to prevent us from seeing what is in front of us.
By Jordi Batlle:
“Lee Cronin's first feature film, the film invites us to follow his future career”, we said on these pages in July 2019, commenting on the premiere of Cursed Forest, an appreciable, imaginative psychological horror epic. Well, here we have the second, in which Cronin takes on the challenge of prolonging an essential saga of the genre that has already blown out its fortieth anniversary candles.
Indeed, Posesión infernal (The evil dead for the parishioners), a work made between friends on weekends with four cents, discovered and celebrated at the Sitges festival in October 1982 although it was not released in our theaters until 1984 (the rush they still didn't drown our existence), he was in his day something like the Citizen Kane of gore cinema. Its author, Sam Raimi, today a luxury butler at the service of Dr. Strange, would later make two no less totemic sequels and years later would produce the television series Ash vs. Evil dead and a remake, as a reboot, unexpectedly remarkable, directed by Fede Álvarez.
Hell's Possession: Awakening is not a remake, sequel, or prequel. His only link to the saga is the discovery of the Book of the Dead, which awakens the demons. Its (shocking) prologue is misleading: a cabin, a lake, a forest… familiar territory. But no: what follows takes place in the big city, specifically in an apartment building. Although with less courage and inventiveness than Raimi, Cronin is in tune with his spirit and offers us a high bloody, atmospheric, tense banquet, with his occasional turns to sarcastic comedy (not as many, in any case, as we would like) and a narrative pulse. and successful visual: the subjective use of a door peephole is particularly brilliant.
It is said that more than six thousand liters of fake blood were used in the filming; watching, tasting the paroxysmal final climax, it would seem that the figure is not exaggerated. Maybe it's too formal, but it's a decent diversion that keeps the saga well muscled.
By Salvador Llopart:
The moral misery in which the characters in this comedy move is one that does not leave you indifferent. The sign of the times? maybe. Low-flying misery, however, with the exception of the scene -only one- starring Ramón Barea.
Well-intentioned grandparents deceived by their children; and these, in turn, try to deceive their grandchildren. Lies upon lies with just enough grace to survive between yawns and yawns.
By Salvador Llopart:
Tchaikovsky's stormy marriage, stretched out over time by his wife's stubbornness, was already at the time the reason for Ken Russell's usual visual fireworks (The music lovers, 1971). The same issue is now back in charge of the dissident Serebrennikov, supported, in this case, by dramatic incoherence.
Succession of brilliant but unconnected scenes in the life of an obsessed woman that obscure, rather than clarify, the reasons for so much madness. Love is not. Neither interest. Actress Alyona Mikhailova, however, as the obsessive wife of the genius, she is magnificent (while still being a pain in the ass).
By Salvador Llopart:
A mother determined to do everything for her son, in a coma in the hospital, where that "everything" is a wish list that her son, barely twelve years old, wrote down before the tragic accident. Obvious script until saying enough. Predictable fairy tale that nonetheless works despite its bland direction.
Thanks above all to Alexandra Lamy, the courageous mother of the story, this journey for her son becomes a kind of initiation journey for herself.
Por Philipp Engel
The title may seem paradoxical as it deals with testimonies collected in a dozen cloistered monasteries spread throughout Spain. They explain their reasons, which are varied, some arrived marked by some tragedies, others by none; one was possessed by heavy-metal, the other is the mother of six children.
The film, which is constructed as a conventional advertorial on confinement, does not need a critical counterpoint, it trusts the intelligence of the viewer. And it is revealed as a trail of pearls, as well as a powerful tool for reflection. They almost make you want to drop habits.
Por Philipp Engel
The first Nicaraguan film directed by a woman is reminiscent of Capernaum, by the Lebanese Nadine Labacki: both have one foot in neorealism and the other in porn-misery; both are about children abandoned by parents in dire need.
This starts in a landfill, and it gets worse. But not everything is dissuasive, Ara Alejandra Medal is impressive; magic comes to the rescue and it is not by chance that the soundtrack is provided by Para One: the musician usually collaborates with Céline Sciamma, the fairy of childhood in the cinema.
