Movie Reviews
‘Magellan’ Review: Gael Garcia Bernal Plays the Famous Explorer in Lav Diaz’s Exquisitely Shot Challenge of an Arthouse Epic
If “Gael Garcia Bernal as Magellan” sounds to you like a pretty cool Netflix series, you have never seen a film by Filipino auteur and slow-cinema master Lav Diaz. Known on the international festival circuit for his epically minimalist features with bladder-busting running times, his movies are challenging, high-art dramas made for a very select few — the opposite of the flashy, ADHD-friendly content found on streamers.
Premiering in Cannes, where Diaz’s most awarded film, Norte, the End of History, played in Un Certain Regard back in 2013, Magellan (Magalhães) is not for the impatient viewer who likes their explorer stories action-packed and easy to digest.
Magellan
The Bottom Line A stunning time capsule that’s easier to admire than watch.
Venue: Cannes Film Festival (Cannes Premiere)
Cast: Gael García Bernal, Ângela Azevedo, Amado Arjay Babon, Ronnie Lazaro
Director, screenwriter: Lav Diaz
2 hours 40 minutes
And yet this exquisitely crafted feature may be one of the director’s most accessible works to date. It clocks in at only 160 minutes (Diaz’s films often run twice that long, if not more), but, more importantly, provides an honest glimpse at a figure who famously opened the world up for exploration, while furthering the mass destruction wreaked by colonialism.
“I saw a white man!” an indigenous woman screams in the movie’s opening scene, which shows her working calmly by a river in a picturesque rain forest. Like the snake appearing in the Garden of Eden — a Biblical reference that will soon be forced upon tribes with their own religious culture — the arrival of Europeans on the shores of unexplored lands will carry evil into an innocent place, changing it for the worse.
That first sequence takes place during the Conquest of Malacca in 1511, which saw Magellan fighting under Portuguese conquistador Afonso de Albuquerque. If you’re not familiar with this dark period, Diaz doesn’t necessarily make things clear enough to grasp. He’s less interested in historical facts and figures than in visually capturing what the start of colonial decimation looked like on both sides. Magellan never appears in his movie as a hero or antihero, but as a bold profiteer reaping what he can out of a global race to secure land through war and plunder. Guns, germs and steel indeed.
The narrative, which stretches from the bloody clashes on Malacca to Magellan’s death at the Battle of Mactan (Philippines) ten years later, portrays this decade of conquest and ruination with elegantly composed tableaux shot from a fixed position. Diaz is known for using black-and-white, but here he teams with Artur Tort (credited as both co-cinematographer and co-editor) to shoot with a rich color palette of green, brown and blue, finding beautifully detailed textures in locations on both sea and land. The villages recreated by production designers Isabel Garcia and Allen Alzola seem so authentic that you would think they had always been there, nestled in the jungle.
Certain images look like they were torn right out of 16th-century paintings, which is why Magellan is a movie you tend to gaze at rather than watch with full attention. Diaz often shows us the aftermath of battles, where dozens of bodies are artfully splayed on the ground, instead of the battles themselves. Lots of other drama happens off-screen, even if we do witness certain key moments from Magellan’s last years — whether it’s his decision to work under the Spanish crown after the Portuguese refused to back his last voyage, or his discovery of a passage to the South Pacific that became known as the Magellan Strait.
But the drama can be very stolid, borderline dull at times. Not that Garcia Bernal isn’t perfect for the part: Costumed in lots of fluffy shirts, he plays a fearless man with an immense ego who suffered for his success, making the whole profession of being a conquistador look less like a valiant enterprise than a major drag. But Diaz’s observant style (he never cuts within a scene; there’s no music to induce emotion) can keep us at arm’s length from events. Perhaps the most dramatic part of the film is the one that’s the most painfully stretched out, depicting Magellan’s long, relentless voyage (1519-1521) from Spain to the Spice Islands, which saw many crew members die along the way.
But whatever the Spaniards or Portuguese went through pales in comparison to all the tribespeople whom we see imprisoned, converted, enslaved or just plain murdered by Magellan and his men. The other main character in the film is Enrique (Amado Arjay Babon), an indigenous man whom Magellan captures on Malacca and takes with him on all his subsequent journeys. He gradually becomes “civilized” (to use a colonialist term) as the narrative progresses, until the tides turn in the Philippines and we see him returning back to his initial state, freed from the shackles of European domination.
As much as Magellan is a film that will play to a highly select audience, it makes a subtle but loud political statement about the colonial mindset both then and now. When the conquistadors claim they are fighting so that “Islam shall finally disappear,” hoping to beat the Moors in securing more territory, it sounds a lot like speeches you hear from far-right pundits and politicians in Europe today. Diaz’s movie may resemble a magnificent time capsule — and one that we watch with a certain distance — but there are moments when its stark realism reminds us how easily history can repeat itself.
Movie Reviews
Movie Review – Power Ballad (2026)
Power Ballad, 2026.
Directed by John Carney.
Starring Paul Rudd, Nick Jonas, Peter McDonald, Marcella Plunkett, Rory Keenan, Keith McErlean, Paul Reid, Beth Fallon, Havana Rose Liu, Jack Reynor, Naoimh Whelton, Mae Higgins, Ian Dillon, Kelly Thornton, Ebimie Anthony, Ruby Conway Dunne, Dean Panter, Juliette Crosbie, Robert Mitchell, Martha Breen, Dylan Kelly, Kellie El Mayss, and Alexa Scout Fagen.
SYNOPSIS:
Rick, a washed-up wedding singer, and Danny, a fading boy band star, bond over music and a late-night jam session. When Danny turns Rick’s song into a hit, Rick sets out to reclaim the recognition he believes he deserves.
Co-writer/director John Carney (here crafting the screenplay alongside supporting actor Peter McDonald) has an established track record of contemporary musicals with catchy original tunes that have long been flying under the radar for Academy Award consideration, but it should also be pointed out that the success of his films also comes from placing a sharp and acutely insightful emphasis on the creative process and the characters themselves. That is especially true for his latest work, Power Ballad, which features Paul Rudd as an Ireland-based wedding singer cover band frontman, Rick Power, perhaps like many of us coming into the film, still living in another time, or maligning the fact that rock and roll, for the most part, is dying off to other genres, particularly bubblegum mainstream-friendly pop.
As such, Rick’s next gig takes him and the band to Los Angeles for the wedding of a relative of once-popular musician Danny Wilson (played by Nick Jonas, which gives viewers some idea of the music the character creates), failing to keep up with his fellow boy band mates, who have all apparently gone on to bigger and brighter things in the wake of breaking up and going their separate ways. In the hours after the ceremony, they drunkenly get together to kick around ideas, experiment with collaborating on music, and mostly conclude that, while they may come from different genres with wildly different perspectives on art and on each other, there is real talent. In the moment, it appears that mutual respect has been agreed upon.
That only lasts for about 6 months, when Rick Power, amusingly, finds out while walking around a mall that Danny has taken the song he wrote, ” I Can’t Write a Song Without You”, slapped a bridge on it, and become a worldwide sensation without even asking if he would like to be cut into a fraction of the profits. More frustrating and possibly even defeating regarding the happiness of his family is that neither Rick’s wife (Marcella Plunkett) nor his teenage daughter (Beth Fallon) expresses any belief that he could be capable of writing those lyrics. On some level, it’s also likely humiliating that said daughter, who regularly playfully mocks his songwriting ideas, sings along to the hit song.
And since this is a John Carney film, the song is undoubtedly going to stick with viewers not only for its catchiness and rhythms, but also for what the lyrics mean for each character and art bearing a more personal meaning to the actual creator, who oftentimes might be the only one who knows the true emotional core and intent behind it. For Danny, it seems like a love song, but throughout, there is a sense that it might have meant something else to Rick when they were originally writing it together. Meanwhile, whenever Danny shows a trace of an awakening consciousness regarding his lack of moral ethics, his manager (played by John Carney regular Jack Reynor) is there to insist he bury those feelings, that it would be a bad look if word got out he mostly stole the song from a wedding singer of all people.
Nevertheless, with The Wedding Singer‘s DNA in its humor, the ensuing spiral eventually leads Rick Power (with Paul Rudd channeling some of that effortless charm into righteous anger) and his loyal bandmate, Sandy (Peter McDonald), to Los Angeles to confront Danny in person. Naturally, there are plenty of laughs along the way, all while the storytelling shifts into emotional territory, where it is no longer just about being cheated out of fame and fortune but about pursuing the truth and having that ambition and talent validated. For as much as Danny’s reasonings and justifications will make one want to punch him in the face, there is also some merit to his argument that no matter how good a piece of art is, it’s also about how it is packaged and who is putting it out there in the world.
This might also sound like a film with predictable plotting, which is true, but only to an extent. Some characters are confoundingly shoved aside, others are entirely one-dimensional, and there are a number of contrivances here to set the conflict in motion, not to mention the occasional scene that is perhaps a bit too much (a car accident that is almost immediately brushed off and comes to feel unnecessary in hindsight, for example), but there are genuinely subversive qualities in how this story unfolds, where it goes, and where it ultimately ends up.
That is also what lends Power Ballad much of its power: it’s not about lingering and hammering home those emotional beats and reveals, but about tucking them away into something smaller and more minimalist that turns out to be much more moving and sincere.
Flickering Myth Rating – Film: ★ ★ ★ / Movie: ★ ★ ★
Robert Kojder
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=embed/playlist
Movie Reviews
Film Review: “The Devil Wears Prada 2”
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Warning: Full spoilers for the film follow.
I’ve made no secret of the fact that I’m as sick of sequels as many other people. Every so often, however, one comes along that manages to not only match its predecessor’s energy but also manages to equal it, that strides across the screen with such panache and style that you find yourself absolutely captivated.
The Devil Wears Prada 2 is one such film.
Now, I’ll admit that I was more than a little skeptical when I found out there was going to be a sequel to a film that was released back in the halcyon days when one-and-done was more the norm than the exception. However, given the fact that the film managed to pull together the same gang–including director David Frankel–I figured it was at least giving it a shot. I’m certainly glad I did. The film made me laugh more than I ever expected and, more than that, it held me spellbound, drawing me back into this world of high fashion and high ideals and delicious bitchery. It was everything I wanted, and perhaps a little bit more.
When the story opens, our beloved Andy has been working as a successful journalist and is poised to receive a prestigious award; unfortunately, her victory is spoiled by the announcement that she, along with her colleagues, have been laid off. All is not lost, however, and she’s soon brought on to help head up the features department at Runway, where she once again finds herself desperately seeking approval from Miranda Priestly, who resents having this young woman thrust upon her. As the film proves, however, the two women have far more in common than either of them might think, and they have to work together to save Runway and perhaps journalism itself.
To say that Meryl Streep devours this role would be a bit of an understatement. Obviously Streep has had many, many, many great roles during her long and storied career, but for my money Miranda Priestly will always be my favorite. To begin with, there’s the fact that she’s fucking gorgeous, with her shock of white hair, her immaculate outfits, and her way of commanding every eye in a room. However, it’s not just her looks; Miranda has depth and genuine emotional investments, even though these might not always be obvious to the people in her orbit. She might be demanding and imperious and at times downright callous, but the thing is that she genuinely believes in what she preaches. She believes in human beauty and achievement, and she’s willing to go to great lengths to celebrate those things, and if you can’t keep up with her, or if you’re not as invested in them as she is, then that’s a you problem.
For her part, Hathaway is reliably bubbly and effervescent as Andy, a woman who has gone from being a wide-eyed neophyte to a highly-respected and passionate journalist. The brilliance of Hathaway’s performance lies in her ability to capture so many different elements of Andy’s character. She is, at once, still the same wide-eyed and somewhat naive woman she was when she was in her 20s and also someone who believes fiercely and passionately in journalism and what it means to American society and culture writ large. Maybe it’s just the millennial in me, but I adore both Hathaway and this character. They both remind us that millennials, for all that the general culture and our elders (and our juniors!) like to mock us, really do believe in things and, just as importantly, we believe they’re worth fighting for.
The mark of a truly great film–and, for that matter, sequel–is its ability to imbue even its supporting characters with their own arcs and their own emotional stakes. In that respect, too, The Devil Wears Prada 2 succeeds, in that it gives both Tucci’s Nigel and Blunt’s Emily their own journeys. For Nigel, this revolves around his desire to be more than just Miranda’s second-in-command. One can easily see why a man of his obvious taste and skill would want something more, and Tucci imbues him with just enough vulnerability that you can see his desire flicker of his eyes. He also has his fair share of softer moments, and I love the chemistry between Hathaway and Tucci.
In some ways, Emily’s story has been even more tragic than Nigel’s, if no less a result of Miranda, who essentially pushed her out of Runway because of her belief that she lacked the creative vision to really flourish there. Blunt, of course, is absolutely in her element, and though she’s as sharp-tongued as ever, there’s still enough human warmth behind her crisp delivery to allow us to see her as more than just a villain. She is, instead, someone with her own struggles and failures and motivations and, to be quite honest, she’s a delight.
Indeed, if anyone can be said to be the villain of this film, it would have to be the tech overlords–so perfectly embodied by Justin Theroux and B.J. Novak–who play their respective billionaires with just the right amount of preening idiocy and suave corporate ruthlessness. They care about nothing and no one but themselves and making sure they get as much money as they can before they destroy the very institutions they control. And, though some have sneered at the film’s commentary about the state of journalism and the ongoing corporate takeover and hollowing out of our cultural life and institutions, I actually think that’s precisely what gives the film its texture, its depth, and its bite. Because Miranda and Andy–and Nigel, and even Emily, in her own twisted way–care about beauty and fashion and human achievement, and because they’re performed with such depth and emotional authenticity by the film’s stars, we come to care about these things, too.
Even if every other aspect of this film had failed, I still would’ve enjoyed and praised the extent to which it highlights the importance of friendship and bonds and respect between and among women. Though Miranda is at first as dismissive of Andy as she was 20 years ago–in large part, one suspects, because Andy has been foisted on her by her corporate master–she gradually gains a grudging respect One of the most poignant scenes, however, belongs to Emily and Andy, who share one last scene together, forging a friendship they should have had years before but which they both clearly need. Sometimes, when you get down to it, all you really need to thrive is a good friend and a basket of fries.
Look, if this is what millennial nostalgia is going to look and feel like when it comes to the movies, we could do a whole lot worse than The Devil Wears Prada 2. This is a sequel that actually has some things to say but that doesn’t lose sight of the fact that its primary purpose is to entertain and delight us. Fortunately for all of us, it manages to do both. What a remarkable gift!
Movie Reviews
MOVIE REVIEW: Cryptid Terror Meets Slasher-style Suspense In “THE YETI” – Rue Morgue
By BREANNA WHIPPLE
Starring Brittany Allen, Christina Bennett Lind and Linc Hand
Written and Directed by Gene Gallerano and William Pisciotta
Well Go USA Entertainment
If you have a soft spot for the striking contrast of blood and snow, THE YETI from filmmakers Gene Gallerano and William Pisciotta is not to be missed. Set just a couple of years after the end of World War II, THE YETI follows an unlikely group as they set out to rescue two men who have vanished in the Alaskan wilderness. However, unknown to them, an ancient beast stalks the woods, feeding on the entrails of those unfortunate enough to cross its path. An abundance of gore and grisliness ensues immediately, sure to warm the hearts of beast-horror heathens.
In general, cryptid movies come in two varieties: scary and silly. For some reason, comic relief cannot be left out of the equation when it comes to these legendary creatures. For example, Night of the Demon (1983) has a frightening conclusion that features Sasquatch wreaking havoc on an isolated cabin. Yet, earlier on in the film, he rips a motorcyclist’s “appendage” off when he stops on the side of the road to relieve himself. There is always some sort of goofy catch that can detract from the scare factor. Sure, THE YETI has funny moments, but they arrive in the exaggerated archetypes of the outlandish characters. Not a single aspect suffers from a lack of seriousness despite the comedic elements.
Leaning into the era absolutely works in this case, too. It feels like an examination of American propaganda above all else, but it also commits to the aesthetics and generalized insanity of the atomic age. It carries a vibe not dissimilar to the adventures found in great American novels, while presenting visuals that evoke the colourful romanticism of pulp fiction. Though the creature is always the most important element of monster movies, it is also worth noting that the characters are quite dynamic and keep the film entertaining whe its not on screen.

The pacing is fantastic. Not a moment of screen time is wasted, and it advances as any good beast-film should. THE YETI works like Jaws (1975) and Grizzly (1976) in that it feels like a slasher film more than anything else. Like slashers, it doesn’t skimp on the gore, either – and the gore looks good! The creature design is also worth complimenting. It is beautiful to see an entire team behind the creature in these days of AI slop. Encounters with the creature are never safe, either; Each feels a little akin to the bear mauling scene in The Revenant (2015).
With the recent success of the Fallout (2024-) series, the arrival of THE YETI is kismet. Cinema is a form of escapism, one that can come in many shapes and sizes. And with the state of the world right now, we need it more than ever. With its comic book atmosphere, quick pacing, beautifully crafted creature and fantastically written story, THE YETI makes for one hell of a fun getaway.
THE YETI is now streaming on major digital platforms.
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