Thursday, December 29, 2022


Some films allow you to escape your reality for a fleeting moment. Others confront you with reality in deeply relatable ways. The latter experience is what I felt while watching Lukas Dhont's gut-wrenching new film "Close", which unlocked a hidden memory and provided surprising new perspectives on myself and the past.

This poignant drama follows a pair of inseparable 13-year old boys named Leo and Remi, whose friendship transcends the typical bond. They spend virtually every waking and sleeping moment together, effectively forming an extended family (including a heartbreaking Emilie Dequenne as Remi's mother). As a new school year arrives, however, their innocent friendship becomes challenged by the burdens of socially acceptable masculinity. And when the two are so confronted, the psychological damage threatens to have irreparable repercussions.

Before the emotional damage unfolds, however, Dhont invites you into an idyllic world. Indeed, the evocative filmmaking instantly wins you over with the vibrant cinematography, pleasant music and the endearing friendship at its center. He truly captures a sense of blissful innocence with striking primary colors adorning bedroom walls and the overall vibrancy underpinning their playful friendship. 

But Dhont soon lays his cards on the table, cutting through the idealism of those opening scenes of imaginative games and frolicking in colorful fields. As the plot moves to the schoolyard, inquisitive classmates question the nature of their friendship, insinuating a romantic attachment. And though they firmly deny the assertion, it puts in motion a devastating breakdown of their close bond. 

The subsequent narrative stings with the familiarity of fragile masculinity, reminiscent of a similar experience I encountered during that formative transition into my teenage years. But even those who never endured such heartache will be moved by this simple, but powerful drama. Conveyed with remarkable depth of feeling by newcomers Eden Dhambrine and Gustav De Waele, there's a sincerity and tenderness in their friendship that should touch anyone's heart. And Dhont's sensitive direction and camerawork ensures that we don't miss any of the film's delicate gestures, from a head on a shoulder, to the tears streaming down a face. 

Throughout, the cinematic power of the closeup is once again made evident, as the inner turmoil of several characters is beautifully expressed in ways that recall Barry Jenkins' work with James Laxton. Though Close's narrative isn't nearly as ambitious, it serves as a thematic cousin to the seminal "Moonlight" in its characters' anxieties surrounding manhood. And as both films' protagonists glance back towards the audience in their closing shots, they implore us to question our own coming of age and the pure humanity we've lost along the way.

Monday, December 12, 2022

REVIEW: Lowndes County and the Road to Black Power

In 1965, the Voting Rights Act was signed into law by then President of the United States Lyndon Johnson. Seen as a landmark legislation within the prevailing civil rights movement, it was the culmination of the effort of many groups advocating for equal access and representation at the polls. This federal law was hardly initiated at the national level, however, as it was borne out of the struggles in local communities like that in Sam Pollard and Geeta Gandbhir's new documentary "Lowndes County and the Road to Black Power".

"Lowndes County and the Road to Black Power" zooms in on the eponymous Alabama county, as a starting point for a larger effort to ensure the voting rights of Black people. With a Black population of 80% yet 0 registered voters, it stood as a clear indication of the systemic inequality and injustice. Under threat of unemployment, discrimination and even death, Black citizens of Lowndes County were effectively disenfranchised. Through archival footage and interviews with those who lived through these dark times, "Lowndes County and the Road to Black Power" proceeds with an engaging examination of the pivotal actions taken to overhaul this unjust situation and chart a new course for Black power.

Indeed, the notion of "power" is at the forefront of the film, as it delves into the lack of power for Black people within various spheres of society such as education, employment, legal protection, voting rights. And furthermore, it explores the contentious meaning of Black power, through its revelations of the origins of the Black panther iconography and the subsequent party it spawned. Specifically, the film provides compelling insight into how the Lowndes Country Freedom Organization and Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee rose to national prominence under a Black panther symbol before a later branching off of the comparatively militant Black panther party.

They always say you need to know where you come from to know where you're going. And viewers can certainly draw a throughline from the film's depiction of racist terror and anti-Black power rhetoric to the modern day Black Lives Matter movement. As such the excellent archival footage feels like it could've been shot today, despite the monochrome hue. And with the engaging and honest commentary (crucially including the White perspectives as well) accentuating the seamless editing, the storytelling is captivating.

In showing the rocky journey from sharecropping to holding elected office, "Lowndes County and the Road to Black Power" is a testament to the resilience of a people. But in its closing moments, it's also a sobering reminder of how history repeats itself in the ways that American society oppresses its Black citizens. We've come a long way from "Bloody Lowndes," but there's still some distance yet on the road to Black power.

REVIEW: Marcel the Shell with Shoes On

Who would've thought that one of the most profound films of the year would come from an animation-live action hybrid centered on a talking shell? If you'd told me that I'd be so deeply moved by a film with such a premise, I'd definitely give you a dubious look. But sometimes the best surprises come from the most unlikely sources, and so it is with Dean Fleischer Camp's wonderfully imaginative "Marcel the Shell with Shoes On".

Crafted in a mockumentary style, "Marcel the Shell with Shoes On" follows the titular Marcel - a tiny shell - living largely with his grandmother in a suburban home. The pair live mostly alone, save for the occasional Airbnb guest. The latest such guest is a film director (played by Fleisher Camp himself), who becomes fascinated with Marcel's peculiar life. As he gets acquainted with the miniscule creature, he decides to record their interactions and share them online with the world. Marcel quickly gains a popular following, but the attention is unable to replace the affection of his long lost family. And so, Marcel and Fleisher Camp embark on a near impossible mission to find them and the human couple who took them away.

As Marcel's story unfolds, it quickly becomes clear that this film is hardly a frivolous family movie. There's certainly much humor involved in the central pair's comfortable banter and a plethora of genius visual concepts (a "bread room" for a "bedroom" for example). But as Marcel introduces himself and his world, the script instantly establishes genuine emotional stakes. Marcel's feelings of isolation and loss create an undercurrent of loneliness that permeates his interactions with Fleisher Camp. Indeed, the mockumentary style brilliantly allows for vulnerable confessions surrounding the events surrounding the loss of his family and his desire to be reacquainted with them.

That we should care so much about a talking shell is largely due to the remarkable voice performance from Jenny Slate as Marcel. Known for similarly deft work in animation across film and TV, Slate delivers perhaps her best voice acting yet, tapping into sincere emotions with a tinge of whimsy that never tips over to being cloying. And the impact of the performance is all the more impressive for the film's visual choices, as the camera rarely meets Marcel at eye level.

Indeed, the film is unmistakably set in a human's world, featuring glimpses of human characters throughout. And from that towering perspective, it further emphasizes the vast unknown that Marcel faces in the search for his family. When he eventually ventures outside, his existential crisis is palpable. Meanwhile, Marcel's connection to his ailing grandmother (voiced by Isabella Rossellini) also offers several touching moments.

Adorable, affecting and amazingly inventive, "Marcel the Shell with Shoes On" is unlike any film I've seen this year (or any other year for that matter). Despite its unreal premise, it accomplishes cinema's long-touted attributes as an empathy machine. Companionship is a vital need in this big world, whether you're a 1-inch-tall shell or a grown human being.

Saturday, August 6, 2022


After it thrilled audiences around the world earlier this year, I was admittedly late to the cinematic spectacle that is S.S. Rajamouli's "RRR.. But sometimes, films come into your life at just the right time. Indeed, when I finally watched this anti-colonial period piece, it was during the week where my homeland Jamaica celebrates both Emancipation Day and its Independence from the British Empire. And with these historic events at the forefront of mind, this bombastic blockbuster packed an even greater punch.

While Jamaica claimed its independence from the United Kingdom in 1962, India achieved this milestone 15 years earlier. The lead-up to this declaration was a bloody affair, as recreated in the film's fictionalized - but no less meaningful - story of two men on seemingly opposite sides of the struggle. When a young girl from a rural village is stolen by British overseers to live in Delhi, a fellow tribesman (Komaram Bheem, played by N. T. Rama Rao Jr.) decides to dedicate his life to a dangerous rescue mission amid an ongoing anti-British resistance. To do so, he will come up against an equally determined police officer (Alluri Sitarama Raju, played by Ram Charan) who despite sharing similar heritage, is loyal to the British Crown. With both men possessing extraordinary aptitude for combat and warfare, an intense showdown looms. But as their lives become intertwined they begin to realize they have more in common than initially presumed.

What follows a is a wildly entertaining 3-hour saga, as Rajamouli uses music, dance, non-stop action and larger-than-life performances to fuel a captivating epic that effectively combines the gravitas of historical memory and the thrill of heightened fantasy. Indeed, those familiar with Rajamouli's equally audacious "Baahubali" films will be pleased to find the director has lost none of his maximalist flair. Few directors are able to infuse the absurdist concepts of B-movie actioners with such fine craftmanship. The choreography of the action set-pieces and more light-hearted song-and-dance numbers are genuinely imaginative. Meanwhile, the shot compositions used to showcase this vision of 1920s India (or the British Raj) are frequently awe-inspiring. 

Beneath all the dazzling special effects and high-flying acrobatics however, is a compelling human story. The lead actors deftly carry the film on their muscular shoulders with committed performances that radiate charisma and sheer skill. Meanwhile, the broadly-drawn White antagonists provide a stirring riposte to the stereotypical terrorist portrayals of brown characters. There's no denying the film's firmly anti-colonial stance and RRR is all the better for it (the less said about the dubious White love interest the better).  

Like the similarly themed musical sensation "Lagaan", RRR offers a deeply satisfying and entertaining interpretation of India's fight for freedom. Even with its cultural and historical specificity, the passion displayed on screen easily translates to any audience. While the heavily marketed films of the Disney industrial complex will dominate the box office headlines, "RRR" will surely remembered as one of the most significant event movies of 2022.

Monday, July 11, 2022

Top 10 TV Programs of 2021-2022

As we await tomorrow morning's Emmy nominations for the 2021-2022 TV season, a feeling of FOMO is already setting in. Indeed, as I fail miserably to catch up with my watchlist, I continue to be amazed as the plethora of quality programming on offer. Though I may have missed some of the major critical and audience faves, the ones I did watch were certainly satisfying in their own right. Without further ado, I present my Top 10 TV Programs of 2021-2022:

  1. Succession (HBO)
  2. Ted Lasso (Apple TV+)
  3. Station Eleven (HBO Max)
  4. Dopesick (Hulu)
  5. The Great (Hulu)
  6. Maid (Netflix)
  7. Jerrod Carmichael: Rothaniel (HBO)
  8. Hacks (HBO Max)
  9. Insecure (HBO)
  10. Squid Game (Netflix)

Top 10 Acting Performances of 2021-2022 TV

If there's one thing that the 2021-2022 TV season proved, it's the power of a great ensemble. Sure, it would have been nice to spread the wealth and not fall into the myopic trap of the typical Emmy voter. But in the end, I couldn't ignore the stellar work on display by two programs in particular - "Succession, "Scenes from a Marriage" - ultimately taking up 7 slots in my list of the Top 10 Acting Performances of 2021-2022 TV:

  1. Brian Cox, Succession
  2. Jeremy Strong, Succession
  3. Elle Fanning, The Great
  4. Margaret Qualley, Maid
  5. Kieran Culkin, Succession
  6. Murray Bartlett, The White Lotus
  7. Jessica Chastain, Scenes from a Marriage
  8. Oscar Isaac, Scenes from a Marriage
  9. Matthew Macfadyen, Succession
  10. Nicholas Braun, Succession

Sunday, January 16, 2022

Best of 2021: Top 10 Films of the Year


Another film year has come and gone with 2021 proving that cinema is still as vibrant as ever. I was truly delighted by the year's many works of art which subverted and exceeded my expectations with their entertaining storytelling, unforgettable characters and impeccable craft. Without further ado, here are my 10 favourite films of 2021, including links to reviews for my fulsome thoughts on these precious gifts.

Honorable Mentions: President, Summer of Soul, Passing, Citizen Ashe

Best of 2021: Top 20 Acting Performances

Each time I make my annual year's best lists, this one is always the most difficult to narrow down. And from where I stand, 2021 was a particularly strong year for acting performances. This year's thespians brought to life a plethora of intriguing characters with impressive skill. It's therefore my pleasure to salute this year's troubled and troublesome women, ambitious men and everyone in between. These are my Top 20 Acting Performances of 2021:


It's always a treat to find a film that defies easy categorization within rigid lines of genre, country and style. You've probably heard the incorrect assumptions that animation is for kids, subtitled films are hard to follow and documentaries should be plainly informative. But Jonas Poher Rasmussen's deftly dismisses these claims with "Flee", an animated Danish documentary about an Afghan refugee. A heartrending odyssey of epic proportions, this innovative film is truly one of the highlights of 2021.

The film's transcontinental journey begins in Afghanistan, where our narrator (using the alias Amin Nawabi to protect his identity) is growing up with his loving family of two parents, a brother and a sister. That family unit is soon broken apart, however, when his father is taken away by the Mujahideen during the Afghan Civil War. As the country becomes further embroiled in conflict and places the entire family in danger, they join the many others who are forced to become refugees. Thus begins a tumultuous life across several European countries as the family braves the world of human trafficking and unwelcoming immigration policies to find a new place to call home.

A sense of both personal and national histories unfolds as Nawabi recounts the awe-inspiring experiences which led to his present day life as an academic in Denmark. From the tense moments of social upheaval, to the subsequent treacherous voyages across land and sea, the scale of this journey is astounding. And as Rasmussen utilizes diversified animation styles and live action news footage from the time period, the film brilliantly illustrates the nuances of personal and collective memory. While some scenes use a more impressionistic approach with ill-defined lines and shapes, the constrasting archival footage and more fully sketched images intrinsically show how painful recollections of the past can be alternately unforgettable or hazy (intentionally or not). 

Indeed, "Flee" is ultimately about the struggle to reclaim your past. As Nawabi reveals how he was forced to relinquish parts of his identity to survive, there's a palpable sense of relief in his voice. And as he forges his new identity, this already impactful story becomes even more complex through his own struggles with homosexuality. As he reflects on this aspect of his life - his amusing childhood infatuation with Jean-Clade Van Damme, his self-imposed torture about coming out - it builds to a cathartic climax to an already powerful life story conveyed with stunning artistry, visceral truth and sociopolitical resonance.

REVIEW: The Green Knight

King Arthur and his Knights of the Round Table have long enjoyed a storied reputation as symbols of valor and honor. It seems that Hollywood mines the Arthurian legends for a new swashbuckling film every other year. Rare is the cinematic adaptation that centers a figure outside of King Arthur's inner circle. But as David Lowery proves with his sensational "The Green Knight", the stories of the unsung heroes can prove to be just as worthy of being told.

"The Green Knight" is the story of Sir Gawain (Dev Patel), the nephew of King Arthur. We meet him under inauspicious circumstances, as he leaves a brothel following his latest tryst with his lover Essel (Alicia Vikander in a showstopping dual performance). With no knightly title ascribed to him, he feels unfit to sit among the esteemed company at Camelot, where King Arthur is hosting a Christmas feast. Gawain's destiny may soon change, however, when the merry proceedings are interrupted by a mysterious visitor. This monstrous figure is revealed to be The Green Knight, who issues to a challenge to the brave men present. He dares a volunteer to deal him a fatal blow in what he describes as a "Christmas game", in exchange for his powerful green axe. Sensing an opportunity to improve his standing, Gawain steps up and successfully beheads tree-like creature. But as his decapitated victim reminds him while walking away with head in hand, the challenge requires Gawain to seek him out one year later to be similarly attacked. As the fateful date looms, Gawain must now summon the courage to embark on a foreboding journey to secure his coveted honor and legacy.

An epic adventure thus unfolds with the dashing Gawain looking every bit the knight aspires to be. Patel's is at his magnetic best, with a humility and vulnerability that really draws in the audience. His gentle, approachable demeanour invites us on this journey with him, fearful for what awaits.

Admittedly, "The Green Knight" is hardly action-packed in the usual sense. But that doesn't mean it's uneventful. In fact, the captivating narrative constantly tests his mettle along the way as he comes across violent strangers, supernatural occurrences, unforgiving natural elements and an imposing landscape. And it's all depicted with increasingly saturated, colorful cinematography, creating some of the most mesmerizing imagery of the year. Meanwhile, the score's ethereal choral motifs further instill a mythic atmosphere.

As this beguiling fantasia builds to its stunning conclusion, Lowery's heady (pun intended) screenplay asks pertinent questions of its protagonist and audience alike. What makes a man great or honourable? Or as Vikander's Essel asks, "is goodness not enough?" Lowery beautifully explores the answers, this noble but unequivocally foolish quest proves to be humbling and deeply satisfying. Among the many medieval depictions which celebrate reckless machismo, this boldly conceived film is a breath of fresh air.

REVIEW: The Tragedy of Macbeth

Since the invention of cinema, William Shakespeare's plays have long been a source for adaptations in many countries and languages. "The Tragedy of Macbeth" is one such story that has fascinated filmmakers for its devious characters and sinister plot. With a filmography dedicated to unmistakably American stories, one wouldn't associate director Joel Coen with this medieval drama about a ruthlessly ambitous Scottish lord. But in this rare solo outing for famous Coen brother, he delivers one of the most impressive productions of Macbeth to date.

The story begins in the aftermath of a war, when compatriots Lord Macbeth and Banquo encounter three witches with a premonition. They declare that Macbeth will be King and Bancquo will also father a dynasty of kings. Now with this idea of a prosperous future implanted in his head, Macbeth becomes obsessed with making it a reality. With the support of his equally power-hungry wife (Frances McDormand) the pair devise a scheme to assassinate the King. But their murderous scheme comes at a price for his sanity and physical safety, as violence begets more violence and his guilt overwhelms him.

With iconic quotes that have become repurposed by pop culture, Macbeth's subsequent decent into madness is well known. And Coen wisely maintains the rythmn and eloquence of Shakespeare's words. But this adaptation feels far from stage-bound thanks to the film's stunning visual aesthetic and performances. Coen's longtime collaborator Bruno Delbonnel is in fine form as cinematographer, capturing the shadowy interiors and foggy exteriors with shot compositions to die for. It is handly the best cinematography of the year. Likewise, the production design is simple but evocative, featuring stately gothic arches, towering walls, and seemingly endless hallways. The setting feels at once claustrophobic and grandiose. Altogether the visual design creates the chilling atmosphere for the poisonous corruption to fester. 

With the scene set for this tale of paranoia and murderous betrayal, the masterful ensemble further brings forth its themes and emotions. As Macbeth, Denzel Washington makes Shakespeare's dialogue look easy, bringing a tortured realism through every furrowing of the brow, whispered ephiphany and furious cry of outrage. By his side, McDormand's knowing theatricality delights in both the regal poetry of the text and the character's carnal desire for power. Meanwhile, Kathryn is a scene-stealer with her superlative performance as the Witches, giving a contortionist physicality and feral vocal inflections that are simply unreal. The cast is nearly flawless, save for an out of place Ethan Hutchinson, who feels like he arrived directly from the "Queen Sugar" set and stayed in character.

Fortunately, this minor misstep doesn't detract from the overall experience. In the end, there's no denying the artistic excellence on display in Joel Coen's delicious cinematic take on "The Tragedy of Macbeth". Adaptations of this dark tale will come and go, but you won't forget this one anytime soon. 

REVIEW: The Lost Daughter

Picture it: a rustic Greek hotel by the seaside with the warm rays of sunlight caressing her skin and the soothing sounds of waves gently kissing the shore. You can hardly find a better place to unwind and escape from the stresses of everyday life. But as anyone who's been on holiday can attest, it doesn't take much to be suddenly reminded of what you've left behind, whether it be work obligations, a relationship or even the "crushing responsibility" of motherhood, as described by the fascinating protagonist Leda Caruso in Maggie Gyllenhaal's "The Lost Daughter".

Leda is portrayed brilliantly by Olivia Colman as a middle-aged professor who gets an unpleasant wake up call during her dream vacation in Greece. Not long after settling in to soak up the sun on the beach following check-in, she is greeted by a lively family of Italian-Americans. Among them is a young mother named Nina (Dakota Johnson) and her typically energetic young child. As she watches from afar, Leda becomes fascinated with Nina, who struggles to keep her daughter in line. Instantly, it brings back memories of her own challenges as a young mother to two girls, which significantly shaped her life. After the pair are introduced, Leda's interest in Nina turns dangerous, however, when she commits an inexplicable act of theft.

Leda's present-day theft is just the latest in a series of questionable decisions throughout her life, as seen in flashbacks to her younger self (played by Jessie Buckley). Tapping into the familiar daily struggles of parenting, Gyllenhaal's assured direction and Buckley's skilled performance authentically conveys these domestic scenes filled the grating soundtrack and physical labor of attention-demanding, crying children. Contrasted with the more jovial scenes of Caruso's more professional pursuits and social interactions, the film viscerally demonstrates the loss of self that can come with motherhood.

As the older Leda reveals later in the film, she is an unnatural mother. And while "The Lost Daughter" doesn't quite forgive her selfishness and neglect, Buckley and Colman expertly humanize the character under Gyllenhaal's sympathetic female gaze. The pair may not resemble each other, but they share a penchant for fully embodying flawed woman with unvarnished sharpness and specificity. Likewise, Dakota Johnson is perfectly alluring as Nina, utilizing her intense stare to disarming effect. And among the male cast, Colman's interactions with Ed Harris as her welcoming host and Paul Mescal as a charming hotel worker bring out a softer side to her prickly shell.

Indeed, the rich performances and honest screenplay generate remarkable empathy for an abrasive character. You may even find yourself being amused by and identifying with this objectively "bad" mother with low-key "Karen" tendencies. If you ask me, this accomplishment speaks to the minor miracle that is Maggie Gyllenhaal's "The Lost Daughter".

REVIEW: The Worst Person in the World

Being young today is different. So says a middle-aged woman to the rapidly approaching 30-year old protagonist Julie (Renate Reinsve) at a casual backyard gathering. In the context of this situation, this is a throwaway comment about the complexities and distractions of the digital age. But on a third watch of Joachim Trier's "The Worst Person in the World", it resonates a prescient thesis statement for the deeply relatable character study that subsequently unfolds.

Indeed, Julie is instantly recognizable as a modern young woman, prone to changing her life trajectory as easily as she changes her hairstyle. When we meet her, she is studying medicine before subsequently dabbling in psychology and then photography. Unsure of her career path, it's hardly surprising that her love life is equally insecure. After striking up a relationship with an older comic artist named Aksel (Anders Danielsen Lie), they quickly realize that they are at contrasting stages of life, particularly when it comes to Julie's hesitancy towards motherhood. As they work through their differences, however, Julie's life is further complicated when she becomes fascinated with another man (played by Herbert Nordrum) with a more carefree disposition.

While the plot outline may suggest otherwise, Trier and Vogt's screenplay pays no heed to the tired tropes of the manic pixie dream girl archetype. Fiercely independent, intelligent and more than a little self-serving, Julie is a fully realized character with a lot on her mind. Indeed, much of the film is reserved for contemplative moments which invite the audience to interpret her myriad inner thoughts expressed through her endlessly searching eyes. Reinsve is truly radiant in the role.

As Julie vivaciously moves through life, the filmmaking is equally dynamic, nimbly moving through the defined chapters as fluidly as its protagonist. Transitioning through extremes of comedy, drama and romance, Trier balances the tonal shifts brilliantly with the aid of the expressive music, moving performances and a perceptive screenplay. Composer Ola Fl√łttum's score alternately conveys the sweetness of a fairytale, the melancholy of a serious drama and the exuberant energy of a comedy through her up-tempo needle drops and simply expressive melodies. Meanwhile, Reinsve is perfectly matched with her on screen partners. Danielson Lie in especially amazing, as he is grounded and present in every scene, providing the perfect foil for Julie's restlessness. He injects crucial wisdom and gravitas to counter the film's equally necessary humor afforded by Reinsve's playfulness and the narrative's intermittent flights of fancy.

Indeed, some viewers may find Aksel to be the most likable and sensible character in the film. Indeed his traditional views on adulthood are reminiscent of conversations with my parents. But while her unfocused attitude may frustrate some, Trier's keen understanding of her perspective generates empathy for her outlook. Few films are as astute about the dual blessing and curse of the endless possibilities afforded today's millenials. As such, "The Worst Person in the World" feels like an instant touchstone of cinematic stories about my generation.


With a recent filmography that includes such pulpy genre fare as "Mandy" and "Bad Lietenant: Port of Call New Orleans" it's safe to say that Nicolas Cage's reputation for starring in b-movies precedes him. When the trailer premiered for Michael Sarnoski's "Pig" was first released therefore, it drew immediate comparisons to the avenging, animal-loving "John Wick" franchise. But while the basic premise may bear similarities, "Pig" is an altogether different beast, cutting deeper for a more understated and moving drama about loss.

Indeed, "Pig" begins far from the urban jungle of John Wick's New York, where retired chef Robin Feld lives in the woods of Oregon with his trusty truffle pig. Living a simple life enjoying his favorite home-cooked meals with his animal companion, the rare human interaction comes from weekly visits from Amir (Alex Wolff), a young businessman to whom he supplies truffles for the city's restaurant industry. Their cordial arrangement is upended one night, however, when thieves kick down Robin's door and steal his beloved pig. Determined to recover her, Robin is forced to return to the urban world he left behind, uncovering a dangerous and intricate underground network of dealers fueled by greed.

The cliche follow-up to this setup would be that our grizzled protagonist will do "whatever it takes" to get his pig back. And indeed, Feld does find himself in a "dog eat dog" world. But Sarnoski throws the first of many surprises as Feld quickly reveals a more subdued approach to his mission. Even as he teases the imposing threat of the film's assortment of unscrupulous characters, the violence is kept to a minimum. As such, "Pig" is an anti-action movie of sorts.

Instead, the film finds its rhythm in more existential concerns about the fleeting, precious nature of genuine human connections and the life-affirming memories which accompany them. From lovingly cooked meals, to the characters' favorite songs, the film embraces a sentimentality that beautifully counters the gritty tensions underlying capitalist greed. And through this approach, he peels back the layers of these characters like onions. Most impressively, it allows Nicholas Cage to showcase his range, as he portrays the nuanced dramatic thespian and impulsive tough guy with equal aplomb. 

Indeed, Cage's melancholic chef sets a tone that brilliantly juxtaposes tenderness and worldly rigor, cooking up the right recipe for one of the most rewarding films of the year. "Pig" truly subverts expectations at every turn, with its bleak visual aesthetic and premise masking a deeply humane film. I look forward to whatever Michael Sarnoski does next.