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MANIFF Review: Before the Fire

It’s almost impossible to separate Before the Fire from the current coronavirus outbreak, given that the film is… set in the aftermath of a global pandemic. It’s not, however, about the aftermath of a pandemic, or about much of anything, unfortunately, as it doesn’t go into any great lengths to explore the psychological implications of such a crisis, be it on an individual or mass level. It’s a shame, because the film kicks off strong enough, with dynamically immersive shots of people stuck in traffic and the deafening noise of panic and chaos reverberating through the streets of LA and all over the media. However chillingly pertinent, it’s not long until you realize that contextual relevance, which turns out to be both a blessing and a curse, is really the only exciting thing the film has going for it – and it barely even has that.

Well, not quite the only thing – Jenna Lyng Adams, who plays the lead character, Ava, a TV actress who used to star in a show about werewolves, gives a generally solid performance – though the script doesn’t give her much to work with – and the cinematography is quite good and even beautiful at times. But beneath its glossy veneer, the emotional core of the film turns out to be quite hollow, not to mention incoherent. The pandemic forces Ava to confront her traumatic past, as her boyfriend, Kelly (Jackson Davis), basically tricks her into flying back to her rural hometown in South Dakota, where she can be safe from the virus, while he stays in LA to… take photographs? In any case, when she gets there, she stays with Kelly’s family, including his brother Max (Ryan Vigilant), with whom she develops an interesting relationship that unfortunately doesn’t go anywhere.

Neither does the main storyline of the film, which revolves around a mysterious figure in the protagonist’s hazy past that has done her some kind of harm. But rather than slowly building up to some revelatory climax by progressively revealing more hints about that event, the film instead simply refrains from giving us much information at all in the hopes that the lack of it will keep us engaged (spoiler: it doesn’t). In the meantime, it wastes half of its runtime trying to create tension without the emotional stakes to back it up. Add to that plenty of questionable moments that don’t make any sense as well as too many shots of people just walking (or awkwardly yet aggressively coughing), and you’ve got a recipe for disaster, though not necessarily the kind that makes for a gripping cinematic experience.

Even if you set aside its narrative mishaps, Before the Fire simply doesn’t keep you emotionally invested long enough, despite having a decent lead at its centre. Because even though you’re probably rooting for Ava to survive the rising tensions, it becomes increasingly unclear what it is that she’s fighting for. If it’s getting back with her boyfriend, any investment in that relationship was lost the moment he lied to her. If it’s confronting her own unresolved trauma, well, the film doesn’t dig deep enough to tie those loose ends together, leaving many questions unanswered. In a way, the title is inadvertently fitting – we spend two hours waiting for the fire, but it never really comes.

Of course, it’d be unfair to expect the film to act as an unintentional yet deeply profound commentary on the current epidemic reigning over us, but it doesn’t even fulfil its own purpose of telling a compelling story about human trauma. There are moments that hint at how humanity’s darkest side is deadlier than any virus, but that potential is squandered by an underwhelming script and two-dimensional characters that you care less for as you go along. Despite some competent acting and decent production value, the fact that the film has a global pandemic serving as its backdrop and still doesn’t quite stick the landing should tell you everything you need to know. Before the Fire is not infectiously bad, but it’s probably safer to just stay away.

Dusk by Joshua Caudwell

Joshua Caudwell, a photographer and artist out of the United Kingdom, released a superb short series of photos back in 2018 named Dusk. In this series Caudwell, explores shapes in abstract scenes with magnificent lighting that makes it eye-warming to the eye.

Find more work by Joshua Caudwell here.

MANIFF Review: Language Arts

Though adapted from Stephanie Kallos’ 2015 novel of the same name, Language Arts immediately feels like a staggeringly personal effort from writer-director Cornelia Duryée (The Dark Horse, Camilla Dickinson), who infuses a lot of her own experiences into this heartfelt and sensitively drawn drama. The film is centered around Charles (played by Ashley Zuckerman, bearing a striking resemblance to a young Hugh Grant), a high school English teacher who, despite having an excellent grasp of the English language, nevertheless struggles to connect with those around him, namely his ex-wife, Allison (Sarah Shahi), and his autistic son, Cody (Kieran Walton). But when one of his students presents him with an idea for a photojournalism project (or, as she puts it, “photolanthropy”) documenting the lives of autistic youth and senior dementia patients, Charles reflects back on his own childhood, and all the ways in which moments from his past have shaped him into the person he is today, and the person he could become if he could just pull those pieces together.

In a crucial moment during Charles’ school years, Mrs. Braxton (Jane Ryan) explains the meaning of the word “protagonist” in one of her Language Arts classes. However common, we quickly realize that this simple definition of “a hero that we root for” is quite reductive, and barely even applies to the movie’s own complicated protagonist, or at least the adult version of him, who becomes increasingly despondent and ill-natured. But the young, reticent Charlie (Elliott Smith), still driven by a kind of innocent idealism, is helmed as a hero when he strikes an unlikely friendship with Dana (Lincoln Lambert), an autistic child who’s constantly made fun of. After all, he’s familiar with that feeling – being the teacher’s pet has put him in a not too dissimilar position.

As a parent, however, handling his relationship with his autistic son and the effect it has on his marriage proves to be an altogether different task, and we see him fall deeper into despair and hopelessness, which is nicely evoked through the shift in lighting. Duryée competently alternates between the different timelines (and time periods), tracing Charlie’s life in a way that sheds light into the full spectrum of his personality, which could have easily come off as flat or even unlikable. Ashley Zuckerman’s performance also provides further depth into his character, peeling off the layers of empathy beneath what might be interpreted as exactly the opposite, while Elliott Smith wonderfully demonstrates young Charlie’s maturity even at such a young age. It’s the supremely talented Lincoln Lambert as Dana that steals the show, however, as he captures the mannerisms of his character’s disability with truly impressive nuance, despite being neurotypical himself.

The story of Language Arts is touching on its own, but the treatment it receives in this adaptation elevates it into something deeply moving. This is largely thanks to Cornelia Duryée, who, as an artist with disability and mother to an autistic son (who appears in the film, and to whom the film is dedicated), has clearly poured her heart and soul into this project. One of the ways this becomes evident is the fact that the film ultimately reveals itself to be not about autism, but about unspoken love and the different ways in which it manifests itself. The irony, of course, is that the art of language, to which Charles dedicates his life to, proves to hardly be limited to the written word, and that a repetitive circular motion or the utterance of an unintelligible sound can be just as meaningful as any one of his eloquent sentences. And that turns out to be the key to solving Charles’ communication problems: sometimes, it’s not about saying the right thing, or saying anything at all, but about reconnecting with your own self and those around you. One of the final pieces Charlie’s protege presents has this beautifully profound quote attached to it: “You babblers may well rule the earth, but heaven’s the kingdom of the mute!”

Albums Out Today: Porches, Code Orange, Circa Waves, Grouplove, JFDR

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In this segment, we showcase the most notable albums out each week. Here are the albums out on March 13th, 2020:

Porches, Ricky Music 

Image result for porches ricky musicFollowing 2018’s The House, Aaron Maine aka Porches has returned with a new record titled Ricky Music. Written and recorded at Maine’s New York apartment as well as Jacob Portrait’s Greenpoint studio, the album finds the artist embracing a more collaborative spirit, as it features contributions from the likes of Mitski, Zsela, and Dev Hynes, as well as co-production by Jacob Portrait. “This record is an account of the beauty, confusion, anger, joy and sadness I experienced during that time,” Maine explains. “I think I was as lost as I was madly in love. In these songs I hear myself sometimes desperate for clarity, and other times, having enough perspective to laugh at myself in some of my darkest moments. That’s sort of what this album is about, I hope you enjoy it.”

Code Orange, Underneath

Image result for code orange underneathPittsburgh hardcore group Code Orange have come through with their fourth studio album, Underneath, out now via Roadrunner. The follow-up to 2017’s Forever, the album explores “the duality in ourselves as individuals and as a society in an overcrowded, overexposed, all-consuming digital nirvana,” as vocalist and drummer Jami Morgan explains. Everyone has a voice and no-one’s seems to matter… plummet down the rabbit hole of your deepest fears, anxieties, and regrets to confront the monster that has been building underneath.”

Circa Waves, Sad Happy

Image result for circa waves sad happyCirca Waves have released the second part of their double album, Sad. The first part, Happy, was released back in January. Their fourth studio album, Sad Happy was written in Kieran Shudall’s Liverpool home, with the city acting as an important inspiration for the album, which “runs through thoughts on mortality, love and observations of people.” As Shudall further explains: “We live in a world split into two extreme halves. One moment you’re filled with the existential crisis of climate doom and the next you’re distracted by another piece of inconsequential content that has you laughing aloud. I find this close proximity of immense sadness and happiness so jarring, bizarre and fascinating.”

Grouplove, Healer

Image result for grouplove healerAnother band releasing their fourth album this week, indie rock outfit Grouplove are back with a new release titled Healer, via Canvasback/Atlantic. Recorded at El Paso, Texas’s famed Sonic Ranch with the help of producer Dave Sitek (TV On The Radio, Yeah Yeah Yeahs, Weezer) and at Los Angeles’ Larrabee Studios with Malay (Frank Ocean, Lorde), the album marks the follow-up to their 2016 album Big Mess and is the first to feature Benjamin Homola, the band’s new drummer.

JFDR, New Dreams

Image result for jfdr new dreamsJFDR is the moniker of Jófríður (pronounced Yo-Frida) Ákadóttir, an Icelandic artist who was previously part of groups such as Pascal Pinon, Samaris and Gangly. New Dreams marks her second album following 2017’s Brazil, and according to Jófríður, it differs from that record in various ways:  “This record is more thought out,” she explains. “The person who’s singing is more honest, not as ‘coated’ or ‘poetic’ as on ‘Brazil’. It’s less eloquent, perhaps, but more what’s happening for me right now. The meaning isn’t always revealed to me until afterwards”.

Other albums out today:

Peter Bjorn and John, Endless Dreams; Niall Horan, Heartbreak Weather; The Districts, You Know I’m Not Going Anywhere. 

Miss June To Tour The U.K.

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Miss June, an exciting band from New Zealand, are returning with a tour around the United Kingdom, Ireland and Germany. The band released their album Bad Luck Party, last summer and just yesterday shared a music video for their song Orchid. Talking about the music video Nick Giumenti, the director, stated “We put everything together extremely quickly as they only had one day here in Nashville while on tour, but they were fantastic performers and fully willing to try some of my more adventurous ideas. Massive credit to them for being willing to show up early and film for 8 hours and then go play a kick ass show the same night.” 

Tour Dates

May 8th, La Cita, Los Angeles, CA
May 11th, The Mercury Lounge, New York, NY
May 14th, The Great Escape – Green Door Store, Brighton
May 15th, The Great Escape – Horatios, Brighton
May 16th, Gold Sounds Festival, Leeds
May 17th, Eastbound Festival, Dublin
May 18th, Nice N Sleazy, Glasgow
May 20th, Sebright Arms, London
May 27th, Prinzenbar, Hamburg
May 28th, Mtc, Cologne
May 29th, Privatclub, Berlin

Artist Spotlight: Jouska

Jouska are an Oslo-based musical duo consisting of Marit Othilie Thorvik and Hans Olav Settem that blend elements of bedroom R&B with electronic music. Citing artists such as the Internet and Grimes as influences, they started releasing singles as far back as 2016, and put out their Frog Fiction EP in 2018, making rounds in the Norwegian music scene. But their songwriting approach has shifted over the last couple of years, incorporating more vocals and paying more attention to the narrative and emotional elements of the song. Their latest single, ‘Bring You Back’, featuring production from Sunniva Lindgaard of Sassy 009, utilizes a slick, infectious instrumental while delivering an emotive vocal performance that speaks not just to the obsessive, often irrational feelings that permeate your existence after a break-up, but to the lingering, ghostly presence of the ex-lover in your mind and the inescapable pain of their physical absence. “I never thought that you could hurt me like that/ Feels like a part of you is stuck inside of my head,” she sings in the chorus, which will get stuck in your head regardless of your relationship status. Its somber yet oddly comforting mood is something we’re excited to dive into once their debut album comes out later this year.

We caught up with Jouska for this edition of our Artist Spotlight series, where we showcase up-and-coming artists and give them a chance to talk a bit about their music.

When did the two of you meet, and how did you form Jouska?

We met while studying music together in Oslo. We both hail from smaller towns and had just moved to Oslo, both eager to experiment with electronic music for the first time.

What are some of your biggest influences?

We find inspiration in a lot of different genres and artists. Recently we’ve been listening a lot to R&B and scandinavian club music.
In general, some of our biggest influences would have to be Grimes, Gorillaz, Little Dragon and Smerz.

How has your approach to songwriting changed since releasing your first few singles?

It used to be more about the instrumentation. It would start out with instrumental ideas, and then we created vocals and lyrics that would match these ideas.

But in the last year, songwriting and vocal production has gotten more important to us. Now it’s more about telling a story and creating a unique vocal narrative for the listener to follow.

Could you talk about your new single, ‘Bring You Back’? What were some of the ideas behind it?

We wanted ‘Bring You Back’ to be both dark and uplifting at the same time. It’s a track about missing someone and obsessing over fading memories. Merging RnB with alternative bedroom pop production is something we’ve wanted to do for a long time, and it’s gonna be the main mood for the rest of our debut album as well.

How was it like working with Sunniva Lindgaard and Andrew Murray for the track?

It’s been great. Andrew Murray gives so much life to the songs in the final mixing process, while Sunniva Lindgaard helped us open up our creativity in the sessions with Bring You Back. Her vocals also really helped set the emotional mood that we wanted to express with this track.

What are you currently working on? Should we expect a full-length release anytime soon?

We’re currently working on our debut album set to release in the fall. The songwriting is pretty much done so now we’re just gonna work intensively to make every sonic detail perfect.

10 Brilliant Stills from The Social Network (2010)

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The Social Network, a three-time Academy Award-winning film by David Fincher, was nominated for Best Achievement in Cinematography in 2011. The cinematography of the films was done by Jeff Cronenweth, who also worked on Gone Girl, Fight Club, and The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo. Here are some fantastic stills from the film that capture the tension of the characters and events, beautifully.

 

 

MANIFF Review: Lost Transmissions (2020)

“I just don’t see you being a cog in a big machine” – Theo Ross (Simon Pegg)

Films have the ability to transport us to fantastical realms, to spaces and places that appear aesthetically and narratively detached from our reality – worlds that feel completely unlike our own. But they also can root us in the harshest and grittiest of realities, unsympathetically displaying depictions of suffering, social anxieties and complex subject matter. Katharine O’Brien’s directorial debut, Lost Transmissions, is one such film, offering an intricate, honest and poignant portrayal of characters dealing with mental illness. It’s a beautiful, indie melodrama that is, in more ways than one, far from being a cog in a big (cinematic) machine – a breath of fresh air in an industry that, at the present time, is becoming (thanks to all-encompassing monopolies and post-broadcasting platforms) even narrower.

Inspired by a true story, Lost Transmissions begins with Hannah (Juno Temple), an aspiring Los Angeles pop-songwriter, meeting Theo (Simon Pegg), a gifted record producer, at a party where she’s summoned to sing, whilst he plays the piano. This is A Star is Born without the glamour and amorous passion. As the pair bond, it becomes increasingly apparent that their friendship is a mutually beneficial relationship: whilst Hannah gains a chance to write for pop superstar, Dana Lee (Alexandra Daddario), thanks to Theo’s guidance, it surfaces that Theo is a schizophrenic, who needs Hannah’s help after he stops taking his medication because he feels it’s a “shame to live life with a filter over it”. As her career begins to take flight, Theo’s conditions starts to deteriorate – which is unaided by a pitiable, mental healthcare system and his painfully unhelpful and inept friends. Through helping Theo, Hannah begins to confront her own problems with anti-depressants and wavering emotions but, as she does so, she begins to question whether she’s illogically assisting an unstable individual that she doesn’t really know and issues that she herself doesn’t fully comprehend.

Perhaps the most poignant and heart-wrenching moment comes when Theo, not taking his medication, is in the car with Hannah and he begins to play with the car radio, turning up the volume and stating that “if you listen really carefully, you can hear the transmissions” and patterns that are permeating beneath the static and between the stations. It’s a sequence that also typifies where the film really shines: Pegg’s performance. Estranged from the distinctive comedic performances that we associate with Pegg (his starring roles in The Three Flavours Cornetto Trilogy or as Benji in the Mission Impossible film series to name a few), he seems to truly find his feet as a natural dramatic actor – in a manner akin to Adam Sandler’s outstanding, performative shift in Uncut Gems. It’s a true testament to his skill in this film that as Theo suffers, we, as audience members, suffer with him. Pegg manages the complexity of portraying a character dealing with schizophrenia with delicacy and I, for one, couldn’t help but be captivated.

Temple’s Hannah is equally compelling and she handles the nuances of Hannah with care but, in many ways, she gets overwhelmed and (sadly) outshone by Pegg’s vulnerable performance – though that’s not necessarily a fault of her own (its more that Pegg’s portrayal is wonderful). The same, unfortunately, can be said for Daddario whose part is fleeting and her ability is somewhat wasted.

Beyond those performances, the film’s second and third act don’t match its compelling and promising opening and consequently the narrative tends to dwindle and, towards the end, falls flat. Similar to Temple and Daddario’s performances, we can’t help but want and, based on the opening, expect more. Whilst the conversations are meticulously written and you do feel for the characters, the narrative just never gets to where you want it to go. It promises so much but the payoff is, to an extent, lacklustre.

Whilst Pegg offers a compelling and nuanced performance that is simultaneously refreshing and heart-breaking, Lost Transmissions, frustratingly, fails to keep the pace that its first act promises. Though O’Brien handles the complexities of schizophrenia and mental illness with care and the film feels like an inspirational take on dense subject matter, it doesn’t altogether realise its potential. It’s not entirely lost in its own transmission, just not quite there.

The Burning Shades of Passion in Céline Sciamma’s ‘Portrait of a Lady on Fire’

There are two shades of passion blazing through Céline Sciamma’s breathlessly devastating Portrait of a Lady on Fire. One is fire, consuming violently from within. Its burning intensity reveals itself in fleeting moments. The other is the sea, conquering from the outside, its tides raging restlessly against the shore. Though just as powerful, the sea does not subside – it is a memory that remains true forever.

There is a woman on fire, her face burning with anger. But she is not the one who lit it – it is a product of her environment, of the air that is stifling her. It is a product of drought. The woman on fire does not know how to swim. She has spent her whole life scouring through a dark and desolate place. Though she lives right by the ocean, she has never dived in. She knows how dangerous it would be to try to escape.

There is a woman on a boat. She is wearing a red dress. When the tempestuous waves threaten to steal her canvases, she throws herself into the ocean to save them without hesitation. They are her only means of eternalizing, of making things permanent. The woman huddles naked in front of the fire in between her canvases, drying herself off and smoking a pipe. She has come to eternalize the woman on fire.

According to the world, the woman on fire does not yet have a face. She must be moulded, contained, protected. Like her mother, she will find it one day in a portrait. But the woman on fire does not want to be painted. She does not want to sit still – she dreams of running, of living in perpetual motion, of living. Posing would mean surrendering herself to a man she has never met. It would be a portrait of her, but not for her. It would be suicide.

So the woman in the red dress must perform her task in secret. She must observe her carefully, the way she moves and walks and talks. She must memorize the contours of her face, her hands, her ears, her hair, her spirit, and then immortalize them on her canvas. But her first attempt is a failure: though it follows standard artistic conventions, it lacks truth. It does not capture her aliveness. There is no fire in it.

The two women reach an agreement. For her, the woman on fire will make an exception – she will pose in exchange for her lighting match of a gaze. For her, she will allow herself to be looked at, to be turned into art. The fire is rekindled – not by anger this time, but by love. The woman becomes fire. And in the pleasure of watching her, and realizing she is looked at as well, the woman in the red dress can peel off her clothes. She no longer has to tame herself. She becomes the sea.

The women have invented fire. They have invented the sea.

One plays with the other, a forbidden dance. A fatal dance. A dance that must not be seen in broad daylight. But at night, the world is lit by candles. So they watch, and they watch, and they watch.

But the sea must hold the object of her gaze. She must capture it before the flames die out. But the fire does not like to be held still. It is in her nature to dwindle.

So her towering waves embrace her, devour her, and she lets herself be engulfed by the flames, fully aware of the inevitable outcome of that interaction. The fire and the sea coalesce in one final, sweeping, earth-shattering dance – they become one and the same. They have always been the same.

“When do we know it’s finished?” the fire asks. “At one point, we stop,” the sea answers.

And with one final stroke, the dance is over, and the portrait is complete. There is truth in it, but the fire is hidden. It has turned into smoke. The ghost of a memory. The ghost of a woman.

The sea has extinguished the fire, and in doing so, locks her in her heart forever. Like Orpheus, she has decided to look at her love, despite knowing it would cause her to vanish from the face of the earth for all eternity. Because though trapped, her memory will always exist in that sacred place, perfect and untarnished.

But there is still an ember glowing inside of the woman, and her spirit is very much alive. Transfigured for a moment by the power of that memory – their memory – she turns into fire one last time, flames shaking uncontrollably, sparks flying off and dancing all around her. And though she does not know it, the woman in the red dress is watching her, her waves still raging on.

Adèle Haenel in Portrait de la jeune fille en feu (2019)

Albums Out Today: U.S. Girls, Anna Calvi, Caroline Rose, Phantogram

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In this segment, we showcase the most notable albums out each week. Here are the albums out on March 6th, 2020:

U.S. Girls, Heavy Light

Image result for us girls heavy lightFollowing the release of 2018’s acclaimed In a Poem Unlimited, indie rock outfit U.S. Girls return with a new album titled Heavy Light, out now via 4AD. The latest from singer-songwriter Meghan Remy was produced by Remy herself and recorded live with 20 session musicians, including E Street Band saxophonist Jake Clemons.  Named after Franz Kafka’s aphorism “a faith like an axe. As heavy, as light”, a press release describes the songs on the album as “reflections on childhood experiences that are collaged into moving spoken word interludes”. The album features reworked versions of the previously released ‘Statehouse (It’s A Man’s World)’, ‘Red Ford Radio’, and ‘Overtime’, as well as 10 new songs.

Anna Calvi, Hunted

Image result for anna calvi huntedAnna Calvi’s new record is a reworking of her acclaimed 2018 album Hunter, featuring an impressive list of collaborators including Courtney Barnett, Joe Talbot (IDLES), Charlotte Gainsbourg and Julia Holter. “During a break from touring I went back and listened to the first recordings I ever made of ‘Hunter’,” the singer-songwriter explains. “These recordings capture the very moment I first wrote these songs, and recorded them on my own, in my attic studio. I find something especially intimate about sharing these most private recordings with my favourite singers and asking them to lend their voices and artistic sensibility.”

Caroline Rose, Superstar

Image result for caroline rose superstarSinger-songwriter Caroline Rose has come through with her fourth studio record, Superstar. The follow-up to 2018’s Loner, which saw her going in a more pop-rock direction compared to her folk country roots, tells the story of an artist who leaves their life behind in pursuit of fame and is inspired by movies like The Bitter Tears of Petra Von KantMulholland Drive, and Drop Dead Gorgeous. Caroline Rose explains: “To me, there’s both humor and horror in hubris and what it takes in order to be successful. I wanted to make a story out of those parts of myself that I find largely undesirable and embarrassing, then inject them with steroids.”

Phantogram, Ceremony

Image result for phantogram ceremonyAlternative rock duo Phantogram have released their fourth studio album, Ceremony, out now via Republic. The band, consisting of lifelong friends Josh Carter and Sarah Barthel, recorded the album largely at Barthel’s new home studio as well as Rancho de la Luna studio in Los Angeles. The long-awaited follow-up to 2016’s Three was influenced in large part by the death of Barthel’s sister, Becky, due to suicide. Barthel explains: “Life keeps going while you’re in your album cycle bubble and when it pops, you have to pick up the pieces. And once you stop, all the distractions go away and you’re left with a lot of feelings, feelings that got trapped outside of the bubble. And those are what came out on Ceremony.”

Other albums out today:

Riz Ahmed, The Long Goodbye; ROCH, Via Media; Nadia Reid, Out of My Province; Silverstein, A Beautiful Place to Drown.