The Substance
Once again transmogrifying old-school exploitation into her own feminist styling of New French Extremity, Coralie Fargeat trades in the empowered bloodletting of 2018’s Revenge for body horror. The Substance is one-note, obscene, and about as subtle as a sledgehammer — and it also happens to be one of the best movies of the year.
TIFF 2024 FILM REVIEW
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Meet the new Kiyoshi Kurosawa, same as the old Kiyoshi Kurosawa (complimentary). Cloud continues the director’s scalpel-focused scrutiny of our tech-abetted isolation, this time aiming at the grisly terminus of gig economy malaise. Minor spoilers ahead…
Once again transmogrifying old-school exploitation into her own feminist styling of New French Extremity, Coralie Fargeat trades in the empowered bloodletting of 2018’s Revenge for body horror. The Substance is one-note, obscene, and about as subtle as a sledgehammer — and it also happens to be one of the best movies of the year. Minor spoilers ahead…
Mike Leigh returns after six years away from the director’s chair with Hard Truths, a work of pure alchemy transforming misanthropic comedy into a brutal downer. Reuniting with his Secrets and Lies star, Leigh excavates the nooks and crannies of a small-scale drama with a towering deftness on the things left unspoken: Marianne Jean-Baptiste is absolutely titanic in what is likely the best performance of 2024. Minor spoilers ahead…
Welcome to my dispatch from this year’s Toronto International Film Festival. Like always, I won’t be writing full reviews of everything I see at the festival, but this year has plenty of notable features worth at least a quick write-up: Sean Baker’s Cannes Palme d’Or winner, Kiyoshi Kurosawa like you’ve never seen him before, and Steven Soderbergh’s haunted house flick are just some of the highlights at 2024’s TIFF. Here are the capsule reviews for Presence, Cloud, Nightbitch, Anora, The Shadow Strays, and Conclave.
Digging up turpitude from the deep recesses of dark web opportunism, Pascal Plante’s Red Rooms is a serial killer thriller that finds power in its restraint and shocking prescience: an evil — yet vital — film to understand the stranglehold of postmodern, screen-abetted detachment. Juliette Gariépy’s chilling performance is a roundhouse kick to the teeth to dismantle our culture of macabre obsession, parasocial madness, and growing numbness. Minor spoilers ahead…