A story that focuses on the feelings for long enough to forget the facts. Tu Maza Kinara lacks a B-plot, leading to a disproportionate time spent on the minutia, while ignoring directional story progression.Suraj (Bhushan Pradhan), a perfectionist, is shattered when an accident results in the death of his wife (Ketaki Narayan) and the psychological mutism of his daughter (Keya Ingale). His perfect life now has to make space for his daughter’s special needs. The film poses next to no challenges for the main character, removing, as a result, any scope of development. Rife with inconsistencies, the film shows ‘psychological deafness’ being cured by a hearing aid and Suraj teaching his previously speech-abled daughter to pronounce Aai and Baba. The cinematography for the songs is quite possibly the only saving grace for Tu Maza Kinara. A film that has exemplary colour grade and a capable cast suffers at the hands of poor direction and a story that goes nowhere.

With Christy, David Michôd directs the story of Christy Martin, who single-handedly popularized female boxing from the early 1990s to the 2000s under the nickname coined by huckster-promoter Don King: “The Coal Miner’s Daughter.” Sydney Sweeney plays her in a performance that many critics have hailed as transformative. However, underneath frumpy clothes and an unconvincing wig, Sweeney never disappears into the role—it’s not, say, Linda Hamilton changing her physique to become a badass for Terminator 2: Judgment Day (1991). And as the standard sports movie template descends into a dark account of drugs and domestic abuse, Christy bears a curious similarity to Benny Safdie’s The Smashing Machine, another underwhelming sports biopic this year with a showy performance at the center. Produced in part by Sweeney, the whole production screams Oscar bait in the most cloyingly pedestrian way. 

Raised in West Virginia, Christy, a sporto and closeted lesbian, clashes with her conservative, disapproving parents (Merritt Wever, Ethan Embry) who want her to see a priest to “get her straightened out.” Instead, she competes in an amateur boxing match “for fun,” with little knowledge of the sport: “All I knew was that I had to beat the shit outta that bitch before she beat me,” she remarks after her win. Soon, she meets a potential trainer, Jim (Ben Foster), whose creep factor is off the charts. Despite his being decades older and saddled with a beer belly and bad combover, Christy falls for him, ignoring his possessiveness and virulent anti-gay views while buying into his claims that he will make her “the greatest female fighter in the world.” Her mother certainly approves, believing Jim is her ticket to a “normal life.” Meanwhile, the viewer sees all the warning signs and awaits the inevitable fallout. 

Michôd and Mirrah Foulkes wrote Christy, and they adhere to a typical sports movie structure, charting Christy’s meteoric rise to fame while ignoring the real boxer’s early-career losses and draws in favor of presenting a seemingly flawless winning streak. Cue the typical training and fight montages, here set to Young MC’s “Bust a Move.” While building a name for her, Jim goes full Vertigo (1958) and tells Christy to cut her hair so it’s not so “butch” and puts her in an all-pink getup so she looks “cute.” Before long, they sleep together, marry, move to Florida (where else?), and present themselves as an ambitious Average American couple. “I’m just a regular wife who happens to knock people out for a living,” Christy claims. She also shuts down any feminist take on her success with the press, pronouncing she doesn’t care about advancing other women or getting more money for them; she only cares about herself and her own success. 

Christy’s brainwashing by Jim and her parents grows even more twisted when boxing doesn’t pay the bills, prompting him to arrange seedy hotel room fights for her with a 300-pound man for cash, and later, to record porn tapes with her for the underground market. That’s even after she becomes the first woman to fight on Pay-Per-View—a sequence shot in slow-mo and set to choral music, striking an ill-fitting tone compared to the rest of the movie. Additionally, very few of the boxing matches impress. They’re sloppily choreographed and shot by cinematographer Germain McMicking, who doesn’t bring any distinct visual flair to the proceedings. All the while, Christy is surrounded by people who don’t stand up for her, regardless of witnessing what’s obviously an abusive relationship. Her mother dismisses her claims that Jim has become violent (“You sound crazy,” she tells her daughter, in a maddening scene); she’s more concerned about keeping up appearances. Only Christy’s onetime opponent and later training partner—and later still, wife—Lisa Holewyne (Katy O’Brian) can see Christy’s true self enough to question the pretense. 

“You make it real easy for people to dislike you,” Lisa observes. Indeed, she likes to talk smack in front of the press, calling out Lisa as a lesbian while passing as straight. That’s part of what makes her a success: performing for the camera. However, she doesn’t exactly endear herself to the viewer; I struggled to get on Christy’s side, which made the 135-minute runtime feel particularly long, especially in the repetitive second half. Although Jim’s domestic abuse, not only at home but also in the ring while sparring, gives us no choice but to empathize with her. Her only hope seems to be her former high school girlfriend, Rosie (Jess Gabor), who comes in and out of Christy’s life when the story needs her. Soon, drugs enter the mix, and the increasingly paranoid Jim reacts with a brutal attack that brings some finality to their marriage. 

Sweeney once again never convinces in her performance, which is becoming a theme in her work, looking at last year’s Immaculate and this year’s Eden. Foster and Wever fare better, but like Sweeney, they’re all wearing equally silly wigs that render their performances unintentionally funny. Similar to The Smashing Machine, which was based on an earlier documentary and sanitized in its dramatization, viewers might be better off watching the documentary on this subject. Released on Netflix, Untold: Deal with the Devil (2021) tells Martin’s complex story without the typical overdone sports movie structure. Michôd, once a promising Australian filmmaker behind Animal Kingdom (2010) and The Rover (2014), appears to have lost his edge in recent years, starting with War Machine (2017) and The King (2019). With Christy, his approach is annoyingly stuffed with big speeches and dialogue that sounds like a Hallmark movie, and its generic, familiar quality never gives way to something worth the hype.

When it comes down to it, the main selling point of Isekai Quartet as a whole is watching characters from across entirely different series interact—and often in comical ways. Does this film do this as well as the TV series? The answer is a simple “yes.”

The film begins with our heroes being transported to a post-apocalyptic fantasy world and promptly being attacked. This, in turn, splits them into three main groups. The majority end up with Subaru—though notably without the rest of the titular quartet and Emilia. This allows for lots of humorous interactions between the characters as their leaders are all notably absent. At the same time, Subaru is forced into the role of de facto head of the class and serves as the main point of contact between our heroes and two of the characters already occupying this world, Alec and Pantagruel.

Meanwhile, Ainz and Kazuma (who make a great odd-couple pair) meet up with the final inhabitant of this world, a woman clad in the same style of uniform as Tanya, named Vera. She reveals that she had been isekai’d to this world and is attempting to return to her old world at the head of an army of golems to bring an end to the war. This has brought her into conflict with Alec and Pantagruel, as they wish to stay in this world and are against her returning to her own.

This brings us to the main themes of the film—loneliness and lies. Vera is a woman suffering from extreme betrayal. The Saga of Tanya the Evil world’s equivalent of a first-generation German-American, she suffered greatly once the war in Europe began. She found herself and her family shunned by the community she had grown up in—and vowed revenge on those responsible.

Yet, in this ruined world with Alec and Pantagruel, she found peace and a new family. Subsequently, being betrayed by them—being lied to about not being able to return to her old world—has made her even more distrustful of others and hyper-focused on her original goal.

However, Vera wasn’t the only one alone. Pantagruel spent 400 years on this desolate world as its only conscious inhabitant. With the arrival of Alec and Vera, she finally had someone to talk to—to live life with. Giving that up, even when she knew she should tell Vera what she and Alec had discovered about traveling to other worlds, was too hard for her to do.

Though this web of lies and loneliness puts Pantagruel, Alec, and Vera at the center of the film’s story, that doesn’t mean our heroes from across the Kadokawa multiverse are unrelated to it. The golems that populate the film are related to both the KONOSUBA and Overlord worlds. Likewise, Alec himself has deep ties with the past of the Re:Zero world that set up the problems Subaru and Emilia now face there.

Yet, the deepest connection in the film is that between Tanya and Vera. While Tanya does not know Vera, Vera most certainly knows about the infamous Tanya “White Silver” von Degurechaff. And through her, Tanya is confronted with her own role in starting a world war. But the real meat of their shared story is the question of how much, if at all, Tanya has changed since the start of Isekai Quartet. Is she still the overly rational, empathy-lacking, stickler for the rules she always was in her own anime? Or has she grown to the point where she can sympathize with the plight of a stranger—or, perhaps, even an enemy?

One of the best-selling points of this film is that it actually feels like a movie. Rather than the school setting of the series, we are instead treated to a true fantasy world of ruins, deserts, forests, and golems. Beyond that, the cinematography is greatly improved with surprisingly clever camera work and some legitimately striking moments of visual composition. And then there’s the big extended fight scene at the climax. It’s far beyond anything we’ve seen in the TV anime, and not only does it look good, but it also creatively uses the characters’ powers and backstories from across all the different series to achieve victory.

Isekai Quartet The Movie: Another World is clearly made by a group of people who have an insanely in-depth knowledge of all the series they’re combining. It’s full of fun moments and comedic beats—but also manages to delve into a surprising bit of heartfelt drama. Of course, the insane bar for entry is the weakest aspect of this film, as it’s best if you’ve not only seen all four main anime plus The Rising of The Shield Hero but also the previous two seasons of Isekai Quartet. However, if you’ve seen at least two of the big four anime Isekai Quartet is based on, I think you’ll be surprised at how much you enjoy this film.