Entertainment
At this year's Cannes, bleak is the new black and miserable endings are très chic
CANNES, France — In Cannes, the weather changes so fast that you can enter a theater in sandals and exit in desperate need of rain boots and a scarf. On Friday, I ran to my room to grab a warmer shirt for an overcast outdoor party. I checked the window and added a jacket, then checked the window again and was stunned to see the sun. By the time I raced back down the Croisette (in something sleeveless), the cocktail hour was over. C’est la vie.
The mutability is a lovely parallel for the filmgoing itself. At the end of a great movie, you feel like the world has changed. And when a film is bad, the director suffers the shock of their forecast being dramatically upended. Before the premiere, they were chauffeured around in festival-sponsored BMWs and now their friends are stammering how much they like their shoes.
Harris Dickinson, the young British actor who convincingly dominated Nicole Kidman in last year’s “Babygirl,” seemed a tad flustered introducing the premiere of “Urchin,” his directorial debut. Jacket and tieless with his dress shirt’s sleeves rolled up lopsidedly, he hastily joked, “I’m nervous, but I hope you enjoy it — and if you don’t, tell us gently.”
That barometric pressure is especially intense in Cannes, but onscreen (so far, at least), the wind is only blowing one way: south. Almost every film so far has been about a character braving a storm — legal, moral, political, psychological — and getting dashed against the rocks.
Joaquin Phoenix, left, and Pedro Pascal in the movie “Eddington.”
(A24)
“Eddington,” Ari Aster’s twisty and thistly modern-day western, is set in New Mexico during that first hot and crazy summer of the pandemic. To his credit and the audience’s despair, it whacks us right on our bruised memories of that topsy-turvy time when a new alarm sounded every day, from the social-distancing rules of the coronavirus and the murder of George Floyd to the rumors that Antifa was rioting in the streets. With “Hereditary,” Aster made horror trauma hip; now, he’s shifted to satirizing our shared PTSD.
Joaquin Phoenix stars as Joe, a sheriff with a soft heart and mushy judgment, who rejects the mask mandate of Eddington’s ambitious mayor (Pedro Pascal), arguing that COVID isn’t in their tiny rural town. Maybe, maybe not — but it’s clear that viral videos have given him and everyone else brain worms. Joe’s wife (Emma Stone) and mother-in-law (Deirdre O’Connell) are fixated on conspiracies involving everything from child trafficking to the Titanic. Meanwhile, Eddington’s youth activists, mostly white and performative, are doing TikTok dances advertising their passion for James Baldwin while ordering the town’s sole Black deputy (Micheal Ward) to take a knee. No one in “Eddington” speaks the truth. Yet everyone believes what they’re saying.
Phoenix’s Joe watches Henry Fonda movies and wears a symbolic white hat. Yet, he’s pathetic at maintaining order, pasting a misspelled sign on his police car that reads: Your being manipulated. Having lived through May 2020 and all that’s happened since, we wouldn’t trust Aster anyway if he’d pretended a savior could set things right. Still, there’s no empathizing with hapless, clueless Joe when he whines, “Do you really think the power is with the police?”
Well, one person in a Cannes film does: the lead of Dominik Moll’s “Dossier 137,” a single mother named Stéphanie (Léa Drucker), who just so happens to be a cop herself. Once, Stéphanie investigated narcotics. Now, she gathers evidence when her fellow officers are accused of misbehavior. An inspired-by-a-true-story detective movie set in the aftermath of the 2018 Paris demonstrations, the film’s central case involves a squad of undercover officers who allegedly shoot a 20-year-old protestor in the head with a rubber bullet, shattering the front of the boy’s skull.
Moll has made the kind of sinewy procedural that makes your palms sweat. “I have no personal feelings,” Stéphanie insists, even as her ex-husband and his new girlfriend, also police officers, accuse her of being a traitor. More precisely, she allows herself no visible emotions as she questions both the accusers and the accused. It’s impressive to watch the meticulous and dogged Stéphanie put together the pieces and make the liars squirm. But she’s the last person in the movie to see the big picture: No matter how good she is, she can’t be a hero.
Aleksandr Kuznetsov in the movie “Two Prosecutors.”
(Festival de Cannes)
Sergei Loznitsa’s Stalin-era drama “Two Prosecutors” lugs its own protagonist along that exact same journey; it’s affixed to cynicism like a train on a track. Here, the ill-fated idealist is a recent law student (Aleksandr Kuznetsov) who wants to interview a prisoner that the government would rather remain disappeared. The voices that once boldly spoke out against the Soviet regime have long since been silenced. Now, the Great Purge is locking up even the Russians who swear they love their leader.
Methodical and dreary, the film’s key image is of Kuznetsov (who coincidentally-but-on-purpose has a nose that appears to have been busted around) walking down endless dismal hallways. He’s polite and stoic, but we all know he’s not getting anywhere. The film plays like a sour joke with an obvious punchline. I respected it fine, but slow and inevitable don’t make great bedfellows. The jet-lagged stranger next to me nodded off for a nap.
Snores weren’t a problem at “Sirât,” a nail-biter that had its midnight crowd wide awake. The fourth Cannes film by the French-born Spanish director Oliver Laxe, it’s about dirtbag ravers who’ve gathered in a barren stretch of Morocco for a stunning party: orange cliffs, neon lights, thumping EDM beats and dancers thrashing in the dust like the living dead. The only sober attendees are a father (Sergi López) and his young son (Bruno Núñez) who are hoping to find the boy’s sister, a bohemian swept up in the relentless rhythm of this road-tripping bacchanalia. But when the party gets busted up by the police, this fractured family joins a caravan headed in the vague direction of another fest. Next stop, disaster.
An image from the movie “Sirât,” directed by Oliver Laxe.
(Festival de Cannes)
The small ensemble cast looks and feels like they’ve already lived through an apocalypse. Two of his actors are missing limbs and nearly all are flamboyantly tattooed. As these battered vans hurtle through the desert, it’s obvious that “Sirât” believes the age of “Mad Max” has already begun. But Laxe’s cadence of death is nasty and arbitrary and delightful. He’s unconvinced that we can form a community able to survive this harsh world. At best, he’ll give us a coin flip chance of success. I’ve got to watch the film again before I decide whether (a) it’s a comedy and (b) it has anything deeper to say. But a second viewing won’t be a hardship. Even if “Sirât” proves half-empty instead of half-full, witnessing another audience gasp at its mean shocks will be sweet schadenfreude.
Which finally brings us back to Harris Dickinson. His film “Urchin” is good. Great, even. The last time he was in Cannes, it was as the lead in Ruben Östlund’s “Triangle of Sadness,” but he’s a real-deal director. It’s high praise to his acting that I don’t want him quitting his day job just yet.
“Urchin” lopes after a drug-addled boy-man named Mike (Frank Dillane, fantastic) who’s been sleeping and scavenging on the London streets for five years. Yes, Dickinson has gone 21st-century Dickensian; Mike pesters people for ketamine, vodka and spare change like Oliver Twist begged for porridge. But this isn’t a pity piece. “Urchin” is energetic and filled with life: funny asides, tiny joys, stabs of recognition and flourishes of visual psychedelia.
Mike is given multiple chances to change his fortunes. Yet, he’s also stubbornly himself and we spend the running time toggling between being scared for him and being scared of him. Dickinson, who also wrote the film, wants us to know not just how easy it is to slide down the social ladder but what a small step forward looks like, even if his tone is ultimately more Sisyphean than self-help.
After the movie, I ducked into the drizzle, then into a cafe. A man was monologuing to an acquaintance about his career change from tech to film and this is my favorite place to eavesdrop.
“I was rich and successful but I had to look for something more jazzy,” he explained, stabbing at the other person’s plate of charcuterie. He’s now broke, he said, and divorced. But somehow, he seemed content. He’d emailed his script to Quentin Tarantino. Maybe next Cannes, he’ll be the one getting fêted and chauffeured. Maybe the wind would start blowing his way. A great movie really can change your life.
Movie Reviews
Aadi Sai Kumar’s Shambala Telugu Movie Review and Rating
Movie Name : Shambala
Release Date : Dec 25, 2025
123telugu.com Rating : 3/5
Starring : Aadi Sai Kumar, Archana Iyer, Swasika Vijay, Madhunanadan, Ravi Varma, Meesala Laxman,
Shiju Menon, Harsha Vardhan, Shiva Karthik, Shailaja Priya and Others
Director : Ugandhar Muni
Producers : Mahidhar Reddy and Rajasekhar Annabhimoju
Music Director : Sricharan Pakala
Editor : Shravan Katikaneni
Related Links : Trailer
After a long time Aadi Saikumar came up with a promising film titled “Shambala.” The movie gained buzz among the audiences with its promotional material and it hit the big screens today. Let’s see how it is.
Story:
Set in the 1980s, a meteor hits a small village called Shambhala. After that, some unexpected incidents start happening there. The locals are shattered, believing that the meteor is an evil force bringing them bad luck. To investigate the meteor, a geoscientist and an atheist, Vikram (Aadi Sai Kumar), visits Shambhala.
After his arrival, multiple deaths take place, and the villagers blame Vikram’s disbelief in their traditions as the actual cause. What exactly is happening in Shambhala? Did Vikram find the answers? This forms part of the crux of the story.
Plus Points:
The core point chosen by the director is quite interesting. Among recent films blending science and devotion, Shambhala stands out as a fresh attempt, largely due to its backstory, which has never been explored before. This makes things interesting though the screenplay doesn’t land always.
The backstory is narrated through Dialogue King Sai Kumar’s voiceover, providing us intriguing information. The mystery element is the film’s USP. Starting from Ravi Varma’s peculiar episode, the director makes the audience play a guessing game, with unexpected events unfolding.
Scenes depicting the villagers’ odd behavior keep us intrigued, and these sequences are well-conceived. The second half moves at a brisk pace, featuring a surprising twist and several good moments, making Shambhala a satisfying watch.
Aadi Saikumar delivers a very good performance as Vikram, a staunch atheist. His costumes are well-designed, and he looks suave on screen. He finally gets a promising script that complements his talent. Archana Iyer gets a good role and impresses with her presence. Madhunandhan, Ravi Varma, Lakshman Meesala, Indraneil, and others provide solid support.
Minus Points:
Shambhala takes some time to find its rhythm. The movie starts on an interesting note, but after that, it loses its grip, with the mid-portions of the first half falling flat and the pacing dipping. The emotional connection between Aadi and Madhunandan could have been established better, as the movie’s finale relies on it entirely.
The use of AI for the backstory takes away from the intrigue of the plot, and it would have been better if filmmakers avoided it altogether, as it doesn’t look good on the big screen. Even if the special effects or animation aren’t of high quality, the effort is what audiences notice.
The climax ends on a simple note and needed more impact. The movie has many gore scenes that fit the storyline, though some visuals may be disturbing for a few viewers. At times the movie is slightly predictable.
Technical Aspects:
Sricharan Pakala’s background score is effective, and the sound design is neat. Praveen K Bangarri’s cinematography is good, and Sravan Katikaneni’s editing is satisfactory in the second half. The production values are solid.
As for director Ugandhar Muni, he did a decent job with Shambhala. The core point he chose for the story is impressive. While some portions of the narrative aren’t engaging, the thrilling and mystery moments make the overall experience decent.
Verdict:
On the whole, Shambhala is a watchable mystical thriller with a strong core point. The mystery element, the backstory, and sequences depicting the villagers’ odd behaviour are the film’s highlights. Aadi Saikumar and the rest of the cast deliver good performances. The mid-portions of the first half with pacing issues, a few predictable moments, and the AI visuals are the key drawbacks. Nonetheless, Shambhala is a better outing from Aadi in recent times and it can be given a try if you like mystery thrillers.
123telugu.com Rating: 3/5
Reviewed by 123telugu Team
Entertainment
Pat Finn, comedy actor known for roles in ‘The Middle’ and ‘Seinfeld,’ dies at 60
Pat Finn, a veteran comedy actor known for playing the Heck family’s friendly neighbor Bill Norwood on “The Middle,” died Monday, reportedly following a three-year battle with cancer. He was 60.
“After a beautiful life filled with laughter, love, family, and friends, we share the heartbreaking news of the death of Pat Finn,” Finn’s family said in a statement to multiple outlets. Finn’s manager, Andrea Pett-Joseph, who described the actor as “the kindest, most joyful person in any room, told Deadline that he died surrounded by his family and friends. His death was first reported by TMZ.
Finn broke into show business in the 1990s, appearing in various sitcoms. His first major role was on “The George Wendt Show,” where he played Dan Coleman, the brother of Wendt’s character, George Coleman. He also had a recurring role on “Murphy Brown” as Phil Jr., the son of the original owner and bartender of Phil’s Bar (portrayed by Pat Corley) who took over the establishment in later seasons.
”Seinfeld” fans might remember Finn from his role as Joe Mayo in “The Reverse Peephole” episode. He also portrayed alternate-universe Monica’s boyfriend Dr. Roger in a couple of episodes of “Friends.” Finn’s credits also included roles on “The Drew Carey Show,” “3rd Rock From the Sun,” “That ’70s Show,” “Curb Your Enthusiasm,” “The Bernie Mac Show,” “2 Broke Girls” and “The Goldbergs.” His most recent credits included the films “Unexpected” (2023) and “Diamond in the Rough” (2022).
Born in Evanston, Ill., Finn attended Marquette University in the 1980s, where he met his future wife, Donna, and Chris Farley, with whom he became friends. After graduating, Finn, along with Farley, joined Chicago’s Second City to hone his comedy chops.
In a 2022 interview published on Phoenix.org, Finn said he’d always gravitated toward comedy.
“My mom and I watched ‘The Carol Burnett Show’ and ‘The Odd Couple,’” he said. “I really liked the idea of sitcoms. Growing up in Chicago, nobody said they wanted to be an actor. They wanted to be firefighters or in sales. … A career in comedy didn’t become a reality until I was picked up by The Second City and then the main stage.”
According to a statement provided to the New York Post, Finn was diagnosed with bladder cancer in 2022. Although he went into remission, the cancer later returned and metastasized.
A lifelong Bears fan, Finn “often showed the biggest signs when the Bears scored a touchdown” in his final days, the statement from the actor’s family said. “No pressure Bears — just saying — do it for Pat.”
Finn is survived by wife Donna and their three children, Cassidy, Caitlin and Ryan.
Movie Reviews
Film Reviews: New releases for Dec. 24 – 26
Cover-Up **1/2
One should generally try to avoid the critics’ trap of “here’s the movie they should have made,” but it’s hard not to consider what a missed opportunity this documentary biography turns out to be. Certainly veteran investigative journalist Seymour M. “Sy” Hersh has had a monumental professional career—breaking stories over the course of 50 years from the My Lai massacre to torture at Abu Ghraib—of the kind that deserves praise, and the profile offered up by Laura Poitras and Mark Obenhaus gets just enough of his grudging participation to show why his irascibility might have been one of the keys to his success. But that “grudging” part results in a film that goes heavy on archival footage about these various scandals that has to assume any give viewer knows nothing about them, resulting in a lot of throat-clearing that misses the focus on what Hersh in particular was able to uncover, and why, as a journalist committed to shoe-leather reporting and curiosity rather than credulous access-currying regurgitation of official statements. And, since it’s clear from the outset that Hersh has no interest in opening up about himself beyond bare-bones biographical details, there’s nothing here that allows for insight regarding what might have turned this guy into such a bulldog for holding power to account. In one anecdote Hersh offers about his mother, he remembers her describing him as “always going where nobody wants you.” The filmmakers here don’t seem to think that’s their job, too. Available Dec. 26 via Netflix. (NR)
Goodbye June **1/2
Family dysfunction drama tends to work best when it’s narrowly focused, so it’s not surprising that one of the main problems with this one is that it tries to juggle too many characters with too many issues all rushing towards one cathartic deadline. That moment is provided by the imminent death of June Cheshire (Helen Mirren), whose cancer returns aggressively in the two weeks before Christmas, forcing everyone else—her four children Julia (Kate Winslet), Molly (Andrea Riesborough), Helen (Toni Collette) and Connor (Johnny Flynn), and husband Bernie (Timothy Spall)—to unpack all of their baggage. Winslet also directs in her feature debut, from a script by her son Joe Anders, and there’s a lot of frisky humor around the edges, particularly in the first hour as the characters’ stresses express themselves in wildly different ways. Unfortunately, the scenes where a bunch of people swirl chaotically around June’s hospital room becomes a metaphor for the overstuffed nature of this narrative, which could have used at least one fewer Cheshire sibling—and I’d quickly nominate Collette’s broad parody of a yoga-teaching/sage-smudging/crystal toting earth mama. And considering there are years’ worth of issues being addressed here, some of them get resolved in improbably short conversations. As a holiday tear-jerker, it does effectively jerk some tears—and maybe a long the way it could have jerked a character or two out of the second-to-last draft. Available Dec. 24 via Netflix. (R)
Marty Supreme ****
The Adam Sandler “This is how I win” meme from 2019’s Uncut Gems might be the Rosetta Stone for understanding the protagonists of Josh Safdie’s movies, including those with brother Benny: hustlers and on-the-make guys convinced that they’re smarter and more destined for victory than the rest of the world sees in them. That’s certainly true of Marty Mauser (Timothée Chalamet), a Jewish youth in early 1950s New York convinced that his skills as a table-tennis prodigy will lead him to the big time—if only he can get out of his own arrogant way. Safdie and regular Safdie brothers writing collaborator Ronald Bronstein craft another blood-pressure-raising episodic narrative out of Marty’s misadventures, particularly once he’s forced to track down a ridiculous amount of money in order to make it to the world championships in Tokyo, and it’s a magnificent mix of existential danger and absurdist hilarity. And Chalamet’s performance may be his best ever, exuding enough hyper-confident charisma to make it plausible that he could woo a retired Hollywood actress (Gwyneth Paltrow) and pull so many people into his schemes. Safdie even wrangles a great supporting performance out of Shark Tank’s Kevin O’Leary, even if the role of an asshole millionaire isn’t much of a stretch. Topped off by a wonderfully anachronistic score of ’80s synth-pop, Marty Supreme builds to a weirdly emotional climax in which a Safdie hero finally has a different perspective on what it means to “win,” even if he probably still hasn’t. Available Dec. 25
in theaters. (R)
Song Sung Blue **1/2
Real lives are messy and not easily shapeable into narratives, which is why sometimes a fictionalized adaptation of a documentary probably should have remained a documentary. Greg Kohs’ 2008 non-fiction feature becomes writer/director Craig Brewer’s interpretation of the story of Mike Sardina (Hugh Jackman) and Claire Stengl (Kate Hudson), a pair of Milwaukee-area part-time musicians circa 1996 who fall in love and form a creative partnership as “Lightning and Thunder” performing a Neil Diamond “experience” tribute act. Brewer sets the stage for the challenging lives that make us want to root for these dreamers—Mike a recovering-alcoholic Vietnam veteran, Claire a single mom with a history of depression—and he certainly finds crowd-pleasing moments in the way Mike and Claire come alive while on stage interpreting Diamond’s classics, and in their biggest improbable wins intermingled with one big life-changing tragedy. Hudson also turns in a particularly wonderful performance, mastering her Wisconsin twang and both extremes in Claire’s personality. The story, unfortunately, doesn’t have the same juice when the songs aren’t playing, and oversimplifies the timeline of the main characters’ lives in order to provide a tidier, more heartstring-tugging conclusion. The many real-life threads it needs to incorporate distract from the idea of working-class folks finding purpose in their avocation—a thematic idea that might have been easier to convey if this weren’t an adaptation of a documentary. Available Dec. 25 in theaters. (PG-13)
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