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‘Marianne’ Review: Isabelle Huppert’s One-Woman Conceptual Art Project Sparks Deep Thoughts and Profound Annoyance

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‘Marianne’ Review: Isabelle Huppert’s One-Woman Conceptual Art Project Sparks Deep Thoughts and Profound Annoyance

Well, that’s a wrap. As I look back on my two-decade tenure at Variety, I’m incredibly proud of the 2,000-plus reviews that the publication (and you, my readers) have entrusted me with. It’s the greatest privilege any film critic could ask for. And yet, I can’t shake the responsibility of what I refer to as my “guilt list”: all the films I’ve seen, but didn’t have the time to review. Most critics don’t have this problem. They have clear-cut assignments, which they fulfill in time for a film’s release. At an industry paper like Variety, however, we endeavor to cover as many films as humanly possible, from Hollywood blockbusters to relatively obscure art films and indies. And because that mission matters to me, I don’t forget the ones that slip through the cracks.

Maybe it was something I saw at a festival, but couldn’t get around to, like György Pálfi’s dialogue-free “Hen” (which ranks right up there with Cannes sensation “Eo,” but never got the same critical attention) or Jack Begert’s smart, self-questioning Sundance orphan “Little Death,” which radically pivots from jaded industry cynicism to something more life-affirming midway through. Or else a movie looking for distribution that just might have found a home if I’d only had time to review it, such as Ari and Ethan Gold’s resonant, one-shot “Brother Verses Brother,” a Linklater-esque walk-and-talk gem that shadows the pair around San Francisco. I bear the responsibility of not covering these and so many odd outliers, from fringe offerings like “Abruptio,” a serial killer thriller made entirely with puppets, to Andy Warhol’s “San Diego Surf” (thought lost until 2012), in which Taylor Mead takes an enthusiastic interest in SoCal water sports.

I reckon I have time to scratch just one of these oversights off my guilt list before leaving, and so I find myself circling back to an earnest little movie called “Marianne,” whose squeaky-wheel director, Michael Rozek, has been pestering me on X for more than a year. Rozek, who felt compelled to make his first feature late in life, describes the project as a “revolutionary one-woman film,” starring my all-time favorite actress, Isabelle Huppert. So after several frustrated attempts, I finally made time to watch it (since Rozek claims a release is coming later this year).

Looking elegant as ever, Huppert appears with script in hand, half-reading, half-reciting a long, self-important monologue, written by Rozek. It’s not so much a performance as a run-through, shot in several long takes in which the camera zooms, wobbles and repositions itself while she speaks. Alas, English is not Huppert’s native language, and though gravitas comes easy, the red-headed actress makes strange pauses and even stranger gestures, which can be disconcerting. Huppert reacts to the text as it leaves her mouth, when we ought to believe that these words are hers (or “Marianne’s”) to begin with.

How Rozek convinced the courageous French star to do this, I can only imagine, but accepting such an assignment is the kind of fearless act we’ve come to appreciate from Huppert, who’s played a demented disciplinarian in “The Piano Teacher” and a woman excited by assault in “Elle” — risky roles few would even consider, much less embrace. A few years back, I managed to catch Huppert onstage. She was performing “Mary Said What She Said,” an avant-garde one-woman show directed by Robert Wilson, which she has toured around the world. I can only assume Rozek must have seen this as well, since it was around the time he made “Marianne” (three years ago now), and yet, he opted not to emulate it.

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In that piece, Huppert “played” Mary Queen of Scots (in the sense that she “plays” a character named Marianne in “Marianne,” making no attempt to embody or otherwise become a different person). The French star moved energetically back and forth, up and down the stage — it was a positively calisthenic performance — as she delivered her lines in double time. I’m no expert on Brecht, but this seems like a classic example of the “alienation effect,” whereby audiences are intended to be made aware of the theatrical artificiality of the experience.

Rozek mischievously seeks something similar. Huppert spends most of “Marianne” seated on an expensive blue couch with his script in her hands, holding what’s meant to feel like a one-way conversation with the audience — more of a lecture, really, as “Marianne” represents Rozek’s manifesto about what is “real” in a medium where every creative choice is constructed. Plots aren’t real. Stories aren’t real. Lord knows reality TV isn’t real.

“Wake up!” Huppert screams at one point, looking directly into the camera. “Be real!”

Who is Rozek chiding exactly? And who exactly does this indignant idealist suspect is “suppressing” his film? (That’s the word he keeps using on X to describe a dynamic in which buyers aren’t swarming to release Rozek’s tedious disquisition on all that’s wrong with the film industry today.) There’s no such conspiracy. The truth is, nobody cares. He might as well carve it up into 30-second clips and share it on TikTok. Responding as someone who found “Marianne” too pedantic to watch through to the end until now — but who identifies with many of Rozek’s frustrations — I would argue that cinema can achieve much nobler goals than “realism.”

Consider this: A photograph captures whatever appears directly in front of the camera, but it’s still composed, excluding whatever exists beyond the frame. It’s far more difficult to create something expressionistic — that is, an entirely stylized alternate reality — that audiences still find engaging, relatable and emotionally true. Picture Jean Cocteau’s “Beauty and the Beast,” the best of Tim Burton’s films or anything brought to life from scratch by brilliant animation artists. That should be the goal: achieving some kind of communion between the audience and whoever they’re watching on-screen. That’s what Rozek (in his “revolutionary” way) imagines he’s offering with “Marianne.” But it’s also what the most bottom-line-minded studio execs most want when attempting to make a hit popcorn movie.

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About midway through, Huppert-as-Marianne says, “Some will say, ‘This is not a film. This is a play.’” Why is Rozek being so defensive? Audiences aren’t as dumb as the film implies — certainly not the ones who’d seek out and watch something as nontraditional as “Marianne.” Neither are distributors and other would-be backers, any of whom can see that such a project, while not without merit, stands no chance of financial success (budgeted at an estimated $350,000, it will be lucky to break even). “Marianne” is a film, just not a very good one — it’s nowhere near as effective as Julian Rosefeldt’s “Manifesto,” in which we sit riveted as a shape-shifting Cate Blanchett recites a range of world-changing treatises, from Karl Marx to Dogma 95. The validity of his argument aside, Rozek may as well be screaming into the void.

I don’t recall Martin Luther complaining, after nailing his 95 theses to the Castle Church door, that a bidding war didn’t immediately break out among publishers to reprint his grievances. “Marianne” means well, but comes from a place of profound naivete. It’s meant to get audiences thinking about what they watch — the “content” they consume — by raising awareness of what film can be. But it hasn’t figured out the carrot that will entice them to hear its message. If even a die-hard Huppert admirer like me has trouble getting through it, why would a casual cinephile bother?

“They think that you need to escape,” Huppert says, “to forget … your pain.” The royal “they” in this case are “the suits” who call the shots and hold the purse strings. Rozek believes that he’s on to something new when he suggests that if the film industry would only “help you get to the bottom of your pain, instead of numb it,” they’d have people lining up to pay. Sounds great, but movies don’t work that way, and “Marianne” isn’t well written enough — not performed with sufficient conviction — to prove otherwise.

Sure, it can be demoralizing for intelligent adults to investigate what’s available at their local megaplex and see only prequels, sequels, spinoffs and superhero movies. But tens of thousands of films are made each year, and quite a few of them break the rules, defy conventional narrative expectations and smack us deep in our souls. To repeat Bergman (as paraphrased in the film), the greatest filmmakers capture life in a reflection. Film is a looking glass — a role it plays quite literally here when the scene changes and Huppert reads the “love chapter” from I Corinthians into the mirror.

In its most profound moments, “Marianne” alludes to mortality, to “real life.” But it doesn’t dare suggest what others have (here I’m thinking of Kubrick at the end of “Eyes Wide Shut”), that movies may illuminate life, but they can’t replace it. Now, I say this as someone who’s spent nearly as many hours in the dark vicariously sharing the lives of others — imaginary people, no less — as I have engaging with real people: In order to succeed as a revolutionary act, “Marianne” must achieve the kind of cathartic epiphany Rozek refers to, but ultimately fails to deliver. It needs to serve up an insight that hasn’t already occurred to us, rather than a Holden Caufield-callow attack on phoniness. Alternately, at any point, Huppert could interrupt herself, stare the audience straight in the face and advise them to turn off, walk out and experience the world.

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That, my dear Marianne, is what it means to get real.

Movie Reviews

Movie reviews reveal A Poet and All That’s Left of You dominate March with perfect 100% scores – Art Threat

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Two masterpieces just shattered critical consensus on Rotten Tomatoes. Both A Poet and All That’s Left of You have garnered rare perfect 100% scores from critics, dominating March 2026’s excellence rankings. These dual releases represent a historic moment for international cinema.

🔥 Quick Facts

  • A Poet: 100% Rotten Tomatoes score from critics celebrating Simón Mesa Soto‘s Colombian drama
  • All That’s Left of You: 100% Certified Fresh multi-generational Palestinian epic by Cherien Dabis
  • Release Timeline: Both films expanding dramatically in theaters March 2026 after festival triumphs
  • Critical Moment: Rare simultaneous perfect scores elevate international storytelling into mainstream spotlight

A Poet Achieves Unanimous Critical Acclaim

Simón Mesa Soto‘s A Poet stands as one of 2026’s finest achievements. Starring Ubeimar Rios as Oscar Restrepo, a once-promising writer turned tragic failure, the film examines fatherhood’s weight with devastating wit and elegance. The Colombian-Swedish-German co-production premiered at Cannes Film Festival’s Un Certain Regard section last year and has conquered every distribution market since.

The ensemble cast includes Rebeca Andrade, Guillermo Cardona, and Humberto Restrepo, delivering layered performances that anchor the film’s four-chapter structure. Critics hailed the film as a triumph of tone, mixing tragicomic observation with genuine emotional devastation. The New York Times called it “The Romance of Misery”, recognizing its ability to find beauty in human failure. The film’s philosophical depth and formal precision explain its unprecedented critical consensus.

Title A Poet (Un Poeta)
Director Simón Mesa Soto
Lead Actor Ubeimar Rios as Oscar Restrepo
Rotten Tomatoes 100% Certified Fresh
Theatrical Status Expanding in March 2026

All That’s Left of You Shatters Records as Palestinian Saga

Cherien Dabis wrote, directed, and starred in All That’s Left of You, a sweeping three-generational epic set in the Occupied West Bank spanning decades of family trauma and resilience. Featuring Saleh Bakri, Mohammad Bakri, Adam Bakri, and Maria Zreik, the film follows a teenage boy swept into a pivotal protest with consequences that ripple through his family’s future.

Produced by Watermelon Pictures, the film premiered at Sundance Film Festival 2025, where it immediately earned Certified Fresh status and near-universal praise. Filming relocated to Cyprus, Greece, and Jordan after production complications, yet the result feels seamlessly authentic. Critics point to Dabis’s multi-media mastery (she directs, performs, and produces) as essential to the film’s emotional authority. The film’s scope rivals the greatest epics while maintaining intimate character work that defines recent international cinema.

All That’s Left of You arrived in selected theaters on January 9, 2026 and steadily expanded throughout early March. The film’s 100% Rotten Tomatoes score reflects not just critical respect but genuine reverence for Dabis’s artistic vision. This achievement represents Palestinian cinema reaching its greatest artistic and commercial moment.

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Why These Two Films Dominate March 2026’s Conversation

Rarity defines these simultaneous perfect scores. A Poet and All That’s Left of You occupy the rare 100% Tomatometer tier reserved for films of historic excellence. The 2026 FilmFare recognized both as front-runners for major awards, acknowledging how they’ve elevated the expectations for drama itself. Industry observers note that achieving perfect critical consensus in today’s fractious landscape represents not consensus but unanimous recognition of artistic achievement.

Both films reflect cinema’s global moment. Simón Mesa Soto‘s Colombian vision and Cherien DabisPalestinian perspective prove that international storytelling now commands the cultural conversation. Rotten TomatoesOfficial Rankings place both films in its exclusive Certified Fresh top tier. March 2026 becomes the month cinema decided: universal critical acclaim belongs to filmmakers willing to transcend borders.

“All That’s Left of You is a sweeping multigenerational epic that captures the thematic breadth of great cinema while exploring what it means to endure generational trauma.”

Rotten Tomatoes Critics Consensus, Officials

The Future of International Cinema Starts Now

Both films expand to more theaters through March 2026 and beyond. A Poet hits streaming services and digital platforms simultaneously, making it accessible to audiences beyond Select Release cities. All That’s Left of You continues rolling out across regional markets, having already secured international distribution. Industry observers expect both to capture major festival awards at upcoming spring cinema celebrations.

These perfect scores matter beyond accolades. They signal to studios, streamers, and investors that audiences hunger for international voices and authentic storytelling. March 2026 becomes a watershed moment where Colombian drama and Palestinian cinema proved they belong in the conversation with any major market release. The critical paths of A Poet and All That’s Left of You forecast how cinema itself will evolve toward greater global representation.

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Where Can Film Lovers Watch These Perfect-Score Masterpieces?

Both films remain available in theatrical releases across the United States and expanding internationally. A Poet plays select theaters with plans to widen release through spring 2026, while All That’s Left of You continues broader theatrical circulation. Check major ticketing platforms for showtimes and streaming availability. International audiences should consult local cinema schedules for release dates and language availability. These 100% Rotten Tomatoes achievements deserve the big screen experience both directors envisioned.

Sources

  • Rotten Tomatoes – Official Tomatometer scores and Critics Consensus for both films
  • The New York Times – Critical analysis and reviews of A Poet’s artistic achievement
  • Watermelon Pictures – Official distribution and production information for All That’s Left of You

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‘They Will Kill You’ Review: Zazie Beetz Kicks Ass in a Giddy, Gory Eat-the-Rich Actioner

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‘They Will Kill You’ Review: Zazie Beetz Kicks Ass in a Giddy, Gory Eat-the-Rich Actioner

At the end of it all, a flabbergasted detective asks a survivor what’s just occurred. The victim, battered and exhausted and covered in blood, grunts out just two words: “Rich people.”

That’s about the extent of the social commentary on offer from They Will Kill You, a new action-horror-comedy set in a Manhattan luxury building whose Satan-worshipping tenants engage in ritualistic killings of their mostly poor and marginalized staff. But it’s all the excuse writer-director Kirill Sokolov (Why Don’t You Just Die!) and his co-writer Alex Litvak need to unleash great big arterial sprays with gonzo style, to enjoyably giddy, if ultimately insubstantial, effect.

They Will Kill You

The Bottom Line

Not a lot of brains, but plenty of splattered guts.

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Release date: Friday, March 27
Cast: Zazie Beetz, Myha’la, Paterson Joseph, Tom Felton, Heather Graham, Patricia Arquette
Director: Kirill Sokolov
Screenwriters: Kirill Sokolov, Alex Litvak

Rated R,
1 hour 34 minutes

Arriving just one week after Ready or Not 2: Here I Come hit theaters — and having first debuted at SXSW just a few days after Ready or Not 2: Here I Come did — They Will Kill You will inevitably draw comparisons. It’s impossible to argue they aren’t fair.

Both films are about ordinary women brought into a tightly guarded enclave of the one percent, where they’re to be hunted for sacrifice by entitled sociopaths who’ve struck a literal deal with the Devil. Both films saddle their heroines with estranged younger sisters who harbor lingering resentment about having been abandoned by their big sisters in their youth, but now must make up with them in order to survive. Both films devolve into frenetic yet stylish melees deploying all manner of unusual weaponry before, finally, confronting the supernatural head-on.

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But any assumption that they’re the same movie will be wiped out the moment the satin-cloaked Satanists of They Will Kill You corner Asia (Zazie Beetz), the newest maid at the exclusive Virgil apartments, in a closet — only for her to come out literally swinging with a sword, slicing one of their heads clean off to uncork the first of what will be many, many geysers of blood to come.

Asia, we learn through one of several flashbacks, is no oblivious victim but an “avenger,” as her boss (Patricia Arquette‘s Lily) puts it, with an irritated sigh suggesting she isn’t the first. Asia has come here under false pretenses with the intention of rescuing her sister, Maria (Myha’la), another recently hired maid. She’s thus armed to the teeth with blades and guns and ammo, though perhaps nothing is deadlier than her fighting spirit, honed over years of prison brawls. The residents of the Virgil, for their part, are more than ready to defend what’s theirs, with one major supernatural asset up their capacious sleeves that gives them the upper hand.

The simplicity of the plot — the only way out is a fire escape at the top of the building, forcing Asia to fight her way up its nine floors, á la The Raid: Redemption or Dredd — gives Sokolov a relatively blank canvas across which to splatter a grand and gory pastiche of seemingly everything he has ever found cool, from video games to animé to John Wick to Sergio Leone and Quentin Tarantino. If he’s yet to coalesce all those influences into his own distinctive style, he wields them with gleeful enthusiasm. He dials the violence up to Looney Tunes silliness while Beetz infuses it all with an effortless cool, giving Asia an athleticism that makes her a pleasure to watch and a defiance that makes her a joy to root for.

Asia never swings an axe when she can swing a flaming axe so that she can set her enemies on fire even as she hacks off their limbs. Furniture getting hurled through the air is captured in slow-motion, all the better to admire when it shatters on someone. Gunshots are punctuated by flurries of mattress stuffing falling through the air like snow. And I haven’t even revealed the big twist that accounts for the film’s most eye-poppingly gruesome sights; those, I’ll leave you to goggle at in the theater for yourself.

But even with that endless appetite for mayhem — and even with a trim 94-minute run time — there’s a point at which They Will Kill You starts to leave intriguing ideas on the table in favor of repeating itself. Take the layout of the building. We’re told each floor is themed after a different deadly sin, but aside from a brief glimpse of a writhing orgy on the “fuck floor” (Lust, obviously) and a set piece in an empty kitchen (Gluttony, presumably), we don’t get to see any of the others. Instead, we spend much of that time crawling around dark underground tunnels and climbing up nondescript shafts. It seems a missed opportunity to set the Virgil apart from any of a million hallways we’ve seen action stars punch their way through before.

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Then there are the characters. They Will Kill You barely bothers fleshing out its robed and masked masses of villains; the ones played by Heather Graham and Tom Felton are distinguishable only because they’re played by Heather Graham and Tom Felton. But it has not much more interest in key characters like Maria, whose motives shift with the needs of the plot. Or Lily and her husband Roy (Paterson Joseph), about whom I could tell you almost nothing beyond that Arquette seems to have decided halfway through the shoot to adopt a “local newscaster on St. Paddy’s day”-level Irish accent, and Joseph to pick up a gently Southern one.

Even its haves-versus-have-nots posturing turns out to be less about exploring social injustice than allowing us to root for ultra-violence guilt-free, secure in the knowledge that these rich actually are not like the rest of us because they are much, much, much worse.

But perhaps it’s for the best. For all the weapons in Asia’s arsenal, thoughtfulness or emotionality or complexity are nowhere among them. They Will Kill You is simply not equipped to serve up a nuanced exploration of class division, or a poignant drama of sisterly devotion, or what have you. What it is armed for is violence — lots and lots and lots of violence, so brutally nasty it comes all the way back around to childishly funny. That, it is happy to dish out in spades, with enough gusto to sate even the most bloodthirsty filmgoer.

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‘Alpha’ Movie Review: Julia Ducournau’s Misguided AIDS Allegory Is an Underbaked Misfire – WEHO TIMES West Hollywood News, Nightlife and Events

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‘Alpha’ Movie Review: Julia Ducournau’s Misguided AIDS Allegory Is an Underbaked Misfire – WEHO TIMES West Hollywood News, Nightlife and Events
Julia Ducournau is an exhilarating talent with a real perspective on genre filmmaking. “Raw” was unsettling and grotesque, but her mesmerizingly strange “Titane” really proved what she’s capable of in her contortion act of intimate drama and the macabre. Unfortunately, even the greatest artists have their duds, and “Alpha” is hers. Troubled teen Alpha (Mélissa
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