Ashton Kutcher (L) and B.J. Novak star in “Vengeance.” Picture courtesy of Focus Options
July 26 (UPI) — Vengeance, in theaters Friday, is a biting satire of our social media, podcast-obsessed tradition through which writer-director B.J. Novak applies his irreverent observations to a contemporary story that also applies to actual folks with actual coronary heart.
Ben (Novak) is a New York Metropolis journalist with goals of internet hosting a podcast. He additionally hooks up with completely different ladies each evening.
When Ty Shaw (Boyd Holbrook) finds Ben’s quantity in his sister’s telephone, he calls Ben with the tragic information that Abilene has died of a drug overdose. Ben attends the funeral in Texas out of guilt for not likely remembering Abilene.
There are some fish-out-of-water, mistaken id comedy of errors as Ben meets the household (J. Smith-Cameron, Dove Cameron and Isabella Amara), however the plot kicks in when Ty suggests Abilene was murdered. Ben decides to file a podcast concerning the investigation and Ty’s try to avenge his sister.
Ben’s complete premise is an overt satire of contemporary tradition. Ben tells his editor, Eloise (Issa Rae), that he desires to pursue Individuals’ refusal to simply accept details and create their very own tales to make mundane details extra palatable.
Much less explicitly said, however equally poignant, are Novak’s observations about social media tradition.
Vengeance opens with Ben and his pal discussing their philosophy on relationships in what may very well be a sketch about noncommittal dudes that goes on lengthy sufficient to disclose how they’re making an attempt to persuade themselves of their very own b.s.
Ben replies to most individuals by saying, “100%.” It isn’t lengthy into act one earlier than the viewer realizes Ben is not assured about something, and his hyperbolic must commit whole assent betrays that.
The circumstances that lead the Shaw household to imagine Ben was Abilene’s boyfriend converse to the net interactions that substitute for actual relationships. Ben is saved in Abilene’s telephone, they’ve documented interactions and he would not know something about her.
The Shaws’ interactions with Ben additionally depict the distinction between real-life interactions and on-line personas. The Shaws do not perceive insincerity, so that they take Ben’s “100%”s and different sarcastic feedback actually.
Novak units up a compelling thriller. Abilene’s telephone wants a password to unlock, and a hyperlink she despatched him once they met not is on-line, so Ben should comply with the clues.
Ben truly will get near the Shaws and learns to see the worth in having everlasting connections. Abilene turns into an actual individual, however that is additionally a part of the commentary that he by no means bothered to get to know her when she was proper in entrance of him.
Vengeance additionally is filled with random nonsequiturs that preserve the laughs coming. A Liam Neeson joke particularly has a tasteful snicker on the dichotomy between his motion hero and extra acclaimed work.
There are many good previous “metropolis folks within the nation” jokes. Novak captures all of the awkwardness of cringe comedy, however nonetheless delivers laugh-out-loud punchlines.
Hopefully, the folks most in want of the message of Vengeance will obtain it. Novak is common amongst millennial social media customers and podcast listeners, in order that message is coming from inside the home, because it have been.
Fred Topel, who attended movie college at Ithaca Faculty, is a UPI leisure author primarily based in Los Angeles. He has been an expert movie critic since 1999, a Rotten Tomatoes critic since 2001 and a member of the Tv Critics Affiliation since 2012. Learn extra of his work in Leisure.
As far as niche sub-genres are concerned, the “Summer When Everything Changed” film has certainly proved itself a reliable little lane for up-and-coming filmmakers to traverse, affording them the space to discover their own styles just as their subjects begin to discover themselves. Sometimes, the significant change depicted comes from a moment of subtly depicted life-altering trauma; sometimes it’s a moment of sexual awakening; oftentimes it’s both, but the power always comes from that synergy between art and artist—that feeling that the film exists as an inescapable piece of the filmmaker’s own past brought to the screen.
Perhaps this is where a film like Bonjour Tristesse deviates somewhat from expectations, for while the bones of this story could very well have spoken personally to debuting director (and writer) Durga Chew-Bose enough to send her towards this material in the first place, the material itself has been around since long before her own adolescent crossroads. An adaptation of a 1954 novel by Françoise Sagan—itself already adapted four years thereafter by none other than Otto Preminger—Chew-Bose’s film already has a steep hill to climb beyond the scope of her own memories (as is so often, though not always, the case with these films), and so the challenge becomes less one of recapturing subjectivity and more a challenge of creating it from scratch.
The subject of this well-worn tale of ennui is Cécile (McInerny), a teenage girl spending her summer in the south of France with her widowed father Raymond (Bang) and his French girlfriend Elsa (Nailila Harzoune). Cécile’s days are filled—as is the case with most films of this ilk—with meandering trips to the beach and cozy games of solitaire on the couch with a glass of wine, all in between courting her first love affair with a local boy, Cyril (Aliocha Schneider). It’s not until an old friend of the family, Anne (Sevigny), arrives to share in this vacation that the malaise of summertime gives way to more concentrated bouts of interpersonal horn-locking.
The first thing one may notice about Bonjour Tristesse, as is typically the case with films of this quietly crushing sabbatical nature—think Call Me By Your Name, Aftersun, Falcon Lake—is a concentrated emphasis on atmosphere. These films understand that to communicate what is so inarticulable to the child’s mind means communicating it, oftentimes, without words at all, instead letting the blistering heat of the sun or the invasive hum of cicadas fill the dead air that so often accompanies stolen glances. Chew-Bose is definitely privy to this notion, as her film makes a concerted effort to shoot the seaside of the day and the lofty trees of the night with equal emphasis to the words shared in their space.
It’s a concept that Drew-Bose understands, but not one that she executes all that effectively. This is mainly because Bonjour Tristesse, for all its emphasis on what can be communicated without words, seems entirely determined to undermine that notion at every turn with an endless stream of stilted, overworked dialogue exchanges. Nearly every line in the film feels written as though it was thought-up with the expressed intention of becoming an out-of-context pull-quote for teenagers unwilling to sit through a film this sparse to begin with—“Be wrong sometimes… it’s less lonely,” or “I love this time of day; there is so much possibility before lunch”—which may be an effective tool to make some characters appear more vapid or constructed than others, but doesn’t really serve a film of this tone when everybody speaks that way.
This may very well be a byproduct of the film’s literary origins—not only is Bonjour Tristesse based on a book, but Chew-Bose’s own prior artistic experience comes from writing a book compiled of essays—in which sensory experiences and complicated, contradictory thoughts must, by necessity, be expressed in words. If anything, though, this further emphasizes the challenge that comes with adaptation, and the laudable efforts of those who manage to adapt to the work to the silver screen and make that sensory experience more… well, sensory. Even the presence of Sevigny (in an ironic twist, an actress who made her bones on independent films becomes the most recognizable name in this one) does little to elevate the film, controlled as she may be in her grasp of the film’s stilted aura. Chew-Bose may very well have found something viscerally relatable in Sagan’s source material to warrant yet another adaptation, but rarely has the feeling of a warm summer day felt so foreign and frigid.
In the end, Bonjour Tristesse never quite lives up to its interest in harnessing the malaise of a quiet and confused summer, mostly due to its over-reliance on fatigued dialogue and thin characterization.
*still courtesy of Elevation Pictures*
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(Credits: Far Out / Pyramide Distribution)
From the very first frame of Dea Kulumbegashvili’s April, an inexplicable sense of dread and unease takes hold. The opening moment feels like a sharp intake of breath that stays trapped inside you, forcing the audience to experience the same helplessness, scrutiny, and fear as the film’s protagonist, Nina, an OB-GYN who provides abortions for women in her rural Georgian town. After being questioned for delivering a stillborn baby, Nina’s practice comes under intense scrutiny, as she tries to persist in her duties despite the risk to her career.
April is a vital and unflinching look at the ways women suffer under the patriarchy, with Kulumbegashvili forcing our gaze toward the insidious modes of oppression that make women prisoners within their own bodies. The film opens by contrasting two images: a naked, grotesque-looking monster—something notably female but stripped of obvious human qualities—and the sight of rain hitting tarmac. The tonal clash between these two sights, the unnatural and the natural, captures the jarring visceral power of April and its central message, drawing a stark line between the forces of nature that lie within our control and those that strip women of their right to choose.
Within the current arguments around abortion (which is insidiously still seen as a controversial and debatable human right), some people paint the idea of pregnancy and motherhood as an entirely natural and inevitable experience. However, April shows an alternative and ominously present reality in which she contrasts the serenity of the natural rural landscape with stifling images of Nina performing abortions on the women around her, with one of them being a completely static shot that lasts nearly fifteen minutes as she performs the procedure on a young teenage girl who a family member has sexually abused. Pregnancy is not an experience chosen willingly by many of the women in the town, with Nina encountering underage girls who are forced into marriage and motherhood, quietly being stripped of their autonomy and turned into slaves of the patriarchy.
Each frame is haunted by an omnipresent feeling of violence, with still shots of thunderstorms and drooping flowers evoking an inescapable feeling of dread. Natural sights are turned into monstrosities at the hands of Kulumbegashvili, who infuses a sense of foreboding into every image as they become reflections of Nina’s powerlessness in helping these women and the looming threat that their freedom will be diminished by the end of the film.
Nina’s anxiety is characterised by the sight of the monster that opens the film, with the sound of its wheezing breaths being present throughout the entirety of the film, reflecting the depths of her despair and feeling of being trapped by this malignant force, doing everything in her duty to counteract its command while also being stuck in its web.
There is a moment in the film where you learn that the story takes place in 2023, emerging like a punch to the gut as you realise that this story is a reality for an increasing number of women. Motherhood is depicted as a primal and natural force, but Kulumbegashvili shows just how severely cruel and oppressive this force can be, continuing one long and oppressive life cycle that is violent and ultimately, life-destroying for too many women.
April highlights the consequences of the war on reproductive rights through her unflinching attack of the senses, with the female body becoming a powerless vessel that our eyes desperately try to escape, lingering inside our skin as we are immersed in the true horror of this fate
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Release Date : April 26, 2025
123telugu.com Rating : 2.75/5
Starring : Mohanlal, Arjun Ashokan, Shobana
Director : Tharun Moorthy
Producer : M. Renjith
Music Director : Jakes Bejoy
Cinematographer : Shaji Kumar
Editor : Nishadh Yusuf, Shafeeque V. B.
Related Links : Trailer
After starring in the massive and controversial film L2: Empuraan, Mollywood star Mohanlal takes a different path with a small movie called Thudarum. Released simultaneously in Malayalam and Telugu, here’s our take on the film. Read on for the full review.
Story:
Shanmugam, known as Benz (Mohanlal), is a middle-class taxi driver who treasures his black Ambassador car, treating it almost like a family member. He leads a content life with his wife Lalitha (Sobhana), son Pavan (Thomas Mathew), and daughter (Amritha Varshini). One day, when his car meets with an accident, the mechanic misuses it for illegal activities. In a desperate bid to reclaim his only source of livelihood, Benz approaches SI Benny (Binu Pappu). However, CI George Mathen (Prakash Varma) intervenes, setting off a chain of strange events. Benz is then asked to drive the officers to a wedding and later to a deserted forest area, where a shocking revelation awaits. What exactly happened, and are the officers involved in something more sinister? Thudarum unfolds the answers.
Plus Points:
Mohanlal is in top form yet again, delivering a deeply nuanced performance. He perfectly captures the simplicity and quiet dignity of an everyday man, effortlessly drawing viewers into Benz’s small world.
Especially in the second half, his restrained emotions and expressive acting stand out, reminding us once again why he remains one of the finest actors in Indian cinema. His commitment to the role, never once playing it like a ‘superstar’, reflects the respect he holds for his craft.
Prakash Varma is a revelation as a shrewd, calculating officer. His portrayal is so convincing that it evokes genuine anger from the audience, which speaks volumes about his performance.
Despite limited screen time, Sobhana leaves a lasting impact with her composed and graceful presence. Binu Pappu, Thomas Mathew, and the rest of the supporting cast also do a neat job in their respective roles.
Minus Points:
The story treads familiar ground and doesn’t offer much freshness. It’s a narrative that seasoned cinephiles would easily recognise. Writer K R Sunil and director Tharun Moorthy could have worked on a more layered and unpredictable script to truly elevate the experience.
The first half, although it sets up the premise, gradually loses momentum and feels sluggish after a point. Even after the interval, the film takes time to pick up pace again. This uneven narrative flow might test the patience of some viewers.
While it is commendable that the film avoids mass commercial elements like exaggerated action scenes and punch dialogues, the absence of high-voltage moments also leaves certain sections feeling a bit dry.
Several moments in the film might remind viewers of similar stories in the genre, and the major twist is not too hard to guess. A stronger and more gripping screenplay could have avoided the feeling of déjà vu.
Technical Aspects:
Tharun Moorthy shows flashes of skill in his direction but struggles to maintain a consistently engaging pace. A racier and more gripping narrative could have made a significant difference to the film’s overall impact.
Shaji Kumar’s cinematography is appealing, capturing the moods and settings effectively. Jakes Bejoy’s background score complements the story well, enhancing key emotional moments without overpowering them. However, the editing leaves room for improvement, particularly in the first half where tighter cuts would have made the film more crisp and engaging.
The production values are decent, and the Telugu dubbing is fairly acceptable. However, a glaring issue is the Telugu version itself – the movie title is misspelled compared to how it was originally promoted, and several spelling errors appear even in the opening credits. This reflects a clear lack of attention and interest from the team behind the Telugu release.
Verdict:
On the whole, Thudarum is a modest revenge drama elevated mainly by Mohanlal’s heartfelt performance. However, the predictable storyline, sluggish pacing, and lack of major emotional peaks prevent it from reaching its full potential. It is a watchable film if you are a Mohanlal fan or appreciate slow-burn dramas, but for general audiences, it is advisable to keep expectations in check.
123telugu.com Rating: 2.75/5
Reviewed by 123telugu Team
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