1. Khesht va Ayeneh / Brick and Mirror (Ebrahim Golestan, 1966)
“There’s much more truth in imagination. Besides, a man’s word is like a pit.”
The pits that Golestan’s characters open through the heavy dialogues are almost as deep as those of Kafka’s writings, whereas in terms of their appearance, they’re comparable to the European modernist cinema of the 60’s, particularly to Antonioni. And what we get here is a strangely compelling drama, deliberately paced, episodic in structure, and often bordering the absurd, right from the masterful opening sequence largely set in the voids of an abandoned edifice where a protagonist, taxi-driver Hashem, meets a woman who talks in maddening ciphers. Following from this eerie middle of (Tehran’s) nowhere are Hashem’s misadventures with a baby abandoned on the backseat of his cab – an insightful dissection of Iranian society, as well as a moody portrait of disturbed intimacy that, according to Jean-Baptiste de Vaulx (Cinescope), may reflect the director’s affair with the acclaimed poetess Forough Farrokhzad. The absence of music – compensated with words and diegetic noise – directs our attention to the stark beauty of B&W cinematography, or rather, to the abysses of tenebrous shadows. The film’s (orphanage) coda is emotionally devastating.
2. Табор уходит в небо (Эмиль Лотяну, 1976) / Queen of the Gypsies (Emil Loteanu, 1976)
An intoxicating cine-poem of thirst for freedom, and passionate love,
‘Queen of the Gypsies’, also known as
‘Gypsies Are Found Near Heaven’, poses as a ravishing, sublimely romanticized portrait of the travelling Romani, brimming with vivid colors and intense emotions elevated through stirring songs and flirtatious dancing. Svetlana Toma in the central role of a bewitching Roma girl, Rada, lights up every single frame she is in, with her heroine’s beauty and (tragic) fate turned into golden threads the legends are weaved of.
3. Mars Express (Jérémie Périn, 2023)
“Resonance. A sort of fusion of the minds. Ecstasy and so on. Forget it, it’s a robot thing. We’ll never understand.”
In Jérémie Périn’s feature debut, androids dream of much more than electric sheep, striving to transcend the limitations set by their creators. Some of them were once humans, now enjoying the perks of a technolized afterlife, if their former selves remembered to backup their consciousness in time. The others are set free by hackers in a process of so-called ‘jailbreaking’, but that’s the least of problems faced by a detective, Aline Ruby (Léa Drucker), and her robo-partner, Carlos Rivera (Daniel Njo Lobé), as they investigate a murder case in the city of Noctis, on colonized Mars in the 23rd century.
An engaging blend of neo-noir, sci-fi, action, and mystery,
‘Mars Express’ pulls you in right from the get-go, and refuses to loosen its grip for the entire running time, bewitching you with the detailed world-building as its greatest forte, fluid animation marked by a remarkable camerawork, and intriguing, conspiratory story. Directed with a keen sense of subtle humor and breezy pace, as well as with a penchant for paying homage without hurting its autonomy and idiosyncrasies, this nifty piece of cyberpunk fiction solidifies its author’s place among the finest of contemporary animators. Taking cues from the literary likes of Isaac Asimov and Philip K. Dick, all the while injecting the visual references to
‘The Terminator’,
‘Robocop’,
‘2001: A Space Odyssey’ and whatnot into a
‘Ghost in the Shell’-inspired base, Périn winks to both nerds and movie buffs, yet his film feels as refreshing as his previous work, the wonderfully eclectic
‘Lastman’ series. Whatever he has in store next will be eagerly anticipated.
4. She Is Conann (Bertrand Mandico, 2023)
In a boldly iconoclastic, irreverently gender-swapped re-envisioning of
‘Conan the Barbarian’, French provocateur Bertrand Mandico casts his muse Elina Löwensohn behind the grotesque canine mask as the only major male character – a one-headed Cerberus turned shutterbug Virgil, Rainer, that pays homage to German filmmaker namesake Werner Fassbinder. Clad in a leather jacket, with his name written in glitter on the back, he is an oracle, instigator and guide to the sword-wielding warrior-lover heroine, Conann, who is played by six actresses at different ages in both her life and afterlife. Beside Mandico’s regular, Nathalie Richard (eccentric patron of the arts Conann at 55), the cast includes Agata Buzek (fascist general Conann at 45), Sandra Parfait (brazen stuntwoman Connan at 35), Christa Théret (fierce Amazon Conann at 25), Claire Duburcq (meek slave Conann at 15), as well as veteran Françoise Brion of
‘L’Immortelle’ by Alain Robbe-Grillet fame as the amnesiac Queen of the Dead Conann. Eschewing naturalism in favor of theatricality – so becoming of the director’s wickedly unmistakable sense of heightened style, all of them are acutely attuned to the role of barbaric transmutations in an alchemical story laced with poetic dialogue, stubbornly defying genre conventions, and the traditional notion of character development. What begins as a deconstruction of ‘sword and sorcery’ tropes transforms into a lesbian love story, only to end on a sardonically satirical note that alludes to
‘The Cook, the Thief, His Wife & Her Lover’. As the film
‘slithers in excess’ (Josh Kupecki, Austin Chronicles), Mandico once again plunges the viewer in his surreal, anachronistic world of cinematic invention, with cinematographer Nicolas Eveilleau beautifully capturing its mix of ferocious bizarreness and haunting oneirism on 35mm.
5. Furiosa: A Mad Max Saga (George Miller, 2024)
Any filmmaker who wishes to direct a hyper-stylized action flick featuring freaky characters and even freakier custom-made vehicles should learn from George Miller’s latest addition to the
‘Mad Max’ series - a smoothly directed and breathtakingly photographed spectacle. On second thought, this level of clarity amidst all those explosions and (non-idiomatic) dust thrown in your eyes, as well as of high-octane energy may be difficult to replicate, so don’t even try. And speaking of eyes, particularly expressive ones, I can’t think of a better casting choice than the ever-reliable Anya Taylor-Joy.
6. Nemesis (Albert Pyun, 1992)
There are shades of
‘Blade Runner’,
‘The Terminator’,
‘Rambo’,
‘Robocop’ and who-knows-what-else to be found here, but that really doesn't matter, because
‘Nemesis’ has to be one of the most thrilling B-movies in the entire history of cinema! An action-packed cyberpunk-noir with some strong anime vibes, it is essentially one climactic set piece after another linked by a hero’s questioning of his own humanity amidst the cyborg conspiracy in which the line between the good and the bad is a thin one. Pyun’s direction of Rebecca Charles’s deliciously campy screenplay is the very definition of zestful, and production values are remarkable for a low-budget feature, largely by virtue of the brilliantly chosen and beautifully shot locations, from urban ruins to a lush jungle. The film’s high coolness factor is enhanced by sunglasses – almost everyone is wearing them, and by one particular scene involving a granny in a pink dress who doesn’t like to be disturbed on her way to the market.
7. Последно лято (Христо Христов, 1974) / The Last Summer (Christo Christov, 1974)
After a newly built dam leaves a small village submerged, its inhabitants are forced to move to the city, but Ivan Efreytorov (Grigor Vachkov) whose house is the only one left intact stubbornly opposes the migration. Deeply rooted in patriarchal hegemony, his reactionary worldview stands in the way of the emancipation of his teenage son, Dinko (Dimitar Ikonomov), who is drawn by big promises of urban life, and even his blind grandfather can see that... Emerging from a simple premise is a surrealist, poetically fragmented narrative somewhat reminiscent of Juraj Jakubisko and Puriša Đorđević in its unhinged deviations from reality, and stream-of-consciousness meanderings, though in some instances, it evokes Pasolini and Parajanov. However,
‘The Last Summer’ never feels derivative of any of the said filmmakers’ work, pulling you by way of its idiosyncrasies into a bizarre world that exists on the fringes of the protagonist’s memories where the dead come to life, and the Devil cackles to the inability to let go of the past.
8. City Hunter (Yūichi Satō, 2024)
Tsukasa Hojo’s manga
‘City Hunter’ serialized from 1985 to 1991 has seen numerous adaptations one of which is a 1993 Hong Kong flick mostly remembered for Jackie Chan drag-cosplaying as Chun Li from the
‘Street Fighter’ series. The latest offering by Yūichi Satō (of
‘Poison Berry in My Brain’ fame) marks the first live-action rendition to come from Japan, and moves the setting from the late 80’s to the modern times, delivering an irreverently entertaining cocktail of action, comedy and crime film. It does not revolutionize any of the genres, nor does it pretend to, and its story revolving around an experimental drug has been on the cine-menu for quite a while, yet it works just the way it is – a tongue-in-cheek B-movie with ace production values. Jumping into the role of a pervy private eye protagonist, Ryo Saeba, is Ryohei Suzuki who proves to be an excellent casting choice, effortlessly balancing between silliness and seriousness. Versatile and uninhibited, he demonstrates a keen sense of both comic and dramatic timing, as well as some cool moves in the neatly choreographed fighting scenes (posing as the feature’s highlights), but he also strips in a cabaret act, just to remind us that it was he who wore a skimpy outfit and net stockings as
‘Hentai Kamen’.
9. Skatetown U.S.A. (William A. Levey, 1979)
Eight years prior to
‘Dirty Dancing’, there was some dirty skating, with Patrick Swayze debuting as a badass gang leader, Ace. Looking like he walked off the set of Walter Hill’s
‘Warriors’ released earlier in the same year, he demonstrated his impressive roller-skate-dancing skills, matched only by those of Grag Bradford who played an all-American hero, Stan. Their rivalry anticipated a cult, Josh Brolin-starring flick,
‘Thrashin’ (also involving a romantic relationship of the protagonist and the bad guy’s kind and blonde sister), all the while accompanied by a number of ‘subplots’ (for the lack of a more appropriate term) that amped the camp factor up to eleven. Most of the ‘story’ played out in the titular roller disco whose DJ (sporting a white Afro wig) had magical powers, and where who’s who of the skating world performed to popular disco tunes of the late 70’s. So, essentially, there was a lot of ‘glamour and glitter, fashion and fame’, to quote one of the theme songs from the iconic 80’s cartoon
‘Jem and the Holograms’, that made all the nonsense going on in-between impressively choreographed sequences somewhat alluring in its garish, neon-lit, hyper-kinetic, and mood-boosting effervescence.
Honorable mentions
Boy Kills World (Moritz Mohr, 2023)
Abigail (Matt Bettinelli-Olpin & Tyler Gillett, 2024)
