Movie Reviews
Two very different films about women in troubled marriages
With such alibis, it’s no wonder Sandra is indicted for murder, but these stories are only a taster for the many lies and puzzles of this marriage. We find Samuel also had aspirations to be a writer but could never get down to work, while his wife published one book after another. There were money worries. There was a rift over an accident that left Daniel partially blind when Samuel didn’t get to school on time. There were Sandra’s “flings”, mostly with women, which left her husband angry and jealous.
All these issues, and more, are aired in court, where the defence and prosecution seem to speak over one another at will. It’s a reminder the French court system is noticeably different from the more familiar American version. The dialogue switches between French and English, the latter being the language in which Sandra feels more comfortable. As she is German and Samuel was French, English became the common ground of their domestic life, but even this was a source of tension.
It adds another layer of linguistic ambiguity to the already tortuous problem of separating hypothesis from fact. The prosecutor even goes so far as to quote a passage from one of Sandra’s novels in which a wife contemplates murdering her husband, but if this sort of authorial fallacy were admissible as evidence, every major writer would have seen out their days behind bars.
It doesn’t mean Sandra is not a fantasist in everyday life, or that she is being completely honest with the court, or indeed with her own lawyers.
Daniel (Milo Machado Graner) gets mixed up when questioned in court.
A large part of the case hangs on Daniel’s testimony, but his story keeps changing, as he gets “mixed up”. It’s an understandable reaction to the spectacle of his parents’ relationship being put under the microscope in court. As one unpleasant secret after another is unearthed, his sympathies (and ours!) alternate between husband and wife. If Sandra can seem neither likeable nor trustworthy, Samuel had his own problems, held at bay by antidepressants.
Huller, who was so good in Maren Ade’s offbeat comedy Toni Erdmann (2016), is perfect in the lead role. Throughout the shoot, Triet allegedly refused to tell Huller whether her character was innocent or guilty. The ambiguity only seems to have bolstered a performance that has already gathered a swag of awards, with more to come.
The sheer length of Anatomy of a Fall seems designed to confirm this is no straightforward crime drama. The “fall” is not only Samuel’s plummet from the third floor, it’s the decline of a marriage, and we know that’s never a speedy process. Ingmar Bergman’s Scenes from a Marriage (1973) occupied six hour-long episodes.
The psychological struggle between Sandra and Samuel is reconstructed in the trial as the lawyers put their own portraits of the couple in front of judge and jury. In this contest, as in Sandra’s novels, it becomes impossible to separate truth from fiction – which may be one reason the lead characters have the same first names as the actors. By the end, we are left wondering if the point is not to discover what happened, but to show the impossibility of proving whether someone is ever definitively innocent or guilty.
Anatomy of a Fall
- Directed by Justine Triet
- Written by Justine Triet and Arthur Harari
- Starring Sandra Hüller, Swann Arlaud, Antoine Reinartz, Milo Machado Graner, Samuel Theis, Jehnny Beth, Saadia Bentaïeb, Camille Rutherford, Anne Rotger, Sophie Fillière
- France, MA 15+, 151 mins
The Color Purple
Blitz Bazawule’s new version of The Color Purple has been getting very positive responses, but when it comes to musicals, I’m the last person to ask.
I’ll listen to anything from Palestrina to Nirvana but have never had the slightest interest in seeing those blockbuster musicals on stage. It’s chiefly the music I can’t stand: syrupy and sentimental, full of forced cheerfulness with big choruses, a grotesque form of pop with operatic pretentions, made to a formula. When I’ve had to watch the film versions of musicals such as Les Miserables or Cats, it’s been a kind of torture. If this means I’m a musical snob, so be it.
And so, with The Color Purple, whenever the poor black folks in Georgia took a break from the cruelty and misery that surrounded them, and started singing and dancing, I felt a strong urge to head for the exit. Instead, I stayed the distance, and was rewarded with approximately one surprising and spontaneous laugh. The overwhelming bulk of the story is pure melodrama, in which the good people like Miss Celie (Fantasia Barrino) are so good they set your teeth on edge, while the baddies are simply horrid.
Taraji P. Henson plays Shug Avery, a woman who is not prepared to take nonsense from any man.
On the face of it, there’s not a lot in Celie’s life that warrants musical treatment. She is raped by the man she believes to be her father, and gives birth to two children who are taken away from her. The film is strangely reticent on these points, so viewers may spend the first part of the story wondering who exactly is the father of Celie’s children.
Next, young Celie (Phylicia Pearl Mpasi) is bartered away to a widower calling himself Mister (Colman Domingo), who needs a wife for cooking, cleaning, child-raising and sexual relief. He is a violent, misogynistic bastard, and Celie is the very definition of long-suffering.
In addition, she is separated from her beloved sister Nettie (Halle Bailey), whom Mister throws out of the house when she rejects his advances. Having taken a job as a governess and gone off to Africa, Nettie sends Celie numerous letters that Mister intercepts and conceals – and he’s not even collecting the stamps!
Relief arrives in the curvaceous form of jazz singer Shug Avery (a no-holds-barred Taraji Henson), who is not prepared to take nonsense from any man, including Mister. Celie’s relationship with Shug, which becomes briefly sexual, is her passport to another life. She is able to give up the perpetual victimhood and seize control of her destiny.
Fantasia Barrino plays put-upon Celie.
Connected with Celie’s story is that of Sofia (Danielle Brooks), a large, loud, brash young woman who marries Mister’s son Harpo (Corey Hawkins). Although Sofia is even harder on men’s fragile egos than Shug, she suffers under the heel of the institutionalised racism of the south, which has one law for whites and another for blacks.
Nevertheless, as this is a musical, we know that all bad things will be resolved in the end. As the director is from Ghana, he adds a little touch of Africa, which makes the last scenes even more ridiculous. Steven Spielberg’s award-winning 1985 adaptation of Alice Walker’s novel was pretty corny, but never frankly silly.
There’s no disputing that actors such as Barrino and Brooks are extraordinary singers, but the songs are so ghastly, their talent is thrown away. Along with the try-too-hard manipulation of the viewer’s emotions, this fable of empowerment delivers a familiar set of messages, alerting us that black people are nicer than whites, and women are nicer than men. I’m glad that’s finally sorted.
The entire package is bathed in an evangelical glow that would seem to be part of the problem rather than a promise of salvation. It’s a very American scenario. Whether you’re an aspiring politician or a poor, oppressed black house slave, a little of that old-fashioned religion goes a long way.
The Color Purple
- Directed by Blitz Bazawule
- Written by Marcus Gardley and Marsha Norman
- Starring Fantasia Barrino, Taraji P. Henson, Danielle Brooks, Colman Domingo, Corey Hawkins, H.E.R., Halle Bailey, Phylicia Pearl Mpasi
- USA, M, 141 mins
Movie Reviews
Movie Review: Ian McKellen and Michaela Coel are razor-sharp in art comedy ‘The Christophers’
“The Christophers” looks like an art heist movie at first. A couple of wannabe heirs (James Corden and Jessica Gunning) hire a restoration specialist (Michaela Coel) to finish a series of paintings by their famous father (Ian McKellen), who wants nothing to do with them or the uncompleted works that would surely command an astronomical price tag.
The offspring, whom McKellen’s Julian Sklar vividly describes as wrecks — one a train wreck, one a shipwreck — feel they deserve an inheritance they’re smart enough to know they won’t receive through any will — or talent of their own. The specialist and sometimes forger Lori (Coel) has other motives. There’s the promise of paying rent, yes, but there’s also an element of revenge. Lori and Julian have a kind of history that the movie will reveal in time. She’s also been publicly critical of his later works.
But “The Christophers” is not an “Ocean’s” movie or a “Logan Lucky,” which is to say it’s not really a heist. There’s the tease of one, right up until the end, and the promise of the con. This latest film by the great and astonishingly prolific Steven Soderbergh is not out to give the audience what they think they want from him. Instead, it’s a meditation on art, legacy, creativity and the oh-so-touchy subject of who has the right to critique. It might sound a bit dreary, but Ed Solomon’s razor-sharp script and the brilliant pairing of McKellen and Coel make this lean two-hander breeze by.
You can read however much you want into how much Soderbergh (or Solomon) may or may not relate to Julian, who is determined to burn, bury and shred the unfinished “Christophers,” a series of paintings of a former boyfriend that became his most famous. It’s a fun and prickly exercise for any creative person to reconcile with the peaks and lulls of a long career in the arts — and Julian is luckier than most. He actually got famous and relatively wealthy from his paintings.
Julian huffs that “to judge art one must possess the skills to make said art.” It’s the kind of statement that, if given in an interview, might launch a thousand think pieces. Julian is both old and a devout rebel, with a lifetime’s worth of wisdom, wit and burned bridges in his arsenal. It’s a potent combination ripe for internet virality, but at the moment his online presence is mostly relegated to something akin to Cameo messages for 149 pounds a pop (249 if he mimes a signature).
When Lori arrives, he suddenly has an audience for his theatrical, nonstop musings: fun for McKellen, his character and the audience, but not so much for Lori, who absorbs the monologuing with steely indifference until she decides to take more control of the situation. There’s a bit of the generational disconnect that happens, but it’s somehow never cliche or predictable. The story zigs and zags with its characters as they work through the situation at hand and the larger issues both seem to be plagued by. The script throws a lot of ideas out there and, refreshingly, none of them is to be taken as dogma, especially not Julian’s comment about who has the right to judge art. Like many things he says, it’s probably just the most withering thing he could think of at the moment.
It is a funny thing, though, to critique a movie that does have so much to say about criticism, about what the person behind the keyboard might actually have the guts to say out loud to the person courageous enough to make something and put it out in the world. Perhaps it’s not actually that hard when the movie is as solid as “The Christophers,” or when the filmmaker in question is on a roll like Soderbergh with both “Presence” and “Black Bag.” His movies may have gotten smaller, but the verve remains.
This image released by Neon shows Ian McKellen in a scene from “The Christophers.” Credit: AP/Claudette Barius
“The Christophers,” a Neon release in New York and LA on Friday and nationwide on April 17, is rated R by the Motion Picture Association for “language.” Running time: 100 minutes. Three stars out of four.
Movie Reviews
Psycho Killer (2026) – Review | Serial Killer Movie | Heaven of Horror
Watch Psycho Killer on VOD now
Psycho Killer was directed by Gavin Polone, who has produced a lot of amazing genre movies. These include Stephen King‘s Secret Window (2004), Cold Storage, and Zombieland: Double Tap, while also having produced projects in various other genres. As a director, this is his feature film debut, and I’m sorry to say I think this is the main issue of the finished product.
I say this because the screenplay was written by Andrew Kevin Walker, who also wrote Se7en. Much of what I liked initially about Psycho Killer feels like classic Andrew Kevin Walker, so I’m hesitant to truly believe the story is bad. After all, the iconic Seven could also have been a very strange experience if not directed by David Fincher.
For the record, Seven is far from the only successful script by Andrew Kevin Walker. He also wrote Brainscan (1994), Hideaway (1995), 8MM (1999), Sleepy Hollow (1999), The Wolfman (2010), Windfall (2022), and The Killer (2023). In other words, he is very far from being a one-hit wonder.
I don’t want to recommend that you skip this movie, because the first half of Psycho Killer shows what a brilliant serial killer horror slasher this could have been. So watch it, and try to prepare yourself for an ending that does not live up to that strong opening.
Psycho Killer is out on digital from April 7, 2026.
Movie Reviews
‘Fast Times at Ridgemont High’: THR’s 1982 Review
On August 13, 1982, Universal released teen comedy Fast Times at Ridgemont High in theaters, marking the directorial debut of Amy Heckerling from a screenplay by Cameron Crowe. The film, featuring a breakout performance from Sean Penn, would go on to become a cult classic. The Hollywood Reporter’s original review is below:
Fast Times at Ridgemont High has it all Pac-Man, pizza, cruising, cursing, rockin’, rollin’ enough to keep even the most “totally awesome” teen tuned in all the way. And, given the recent success of almost every zany adolescent film, Fast Times should easily pull in its share of youngsters. What separates this Universal release from the pack, however, is its warmth. It may be a film about kids, but it’s for adults who have not forgotten what it’s like to be a kid.
Fast Times follows six teenagers through one year at Ridgemont High, clocking every escapade, from ordering a pizza for arrival during U.S. History to boyfriends and unwanted pregnancies. Screenwriter Cameron Crowe has adapted his bestselling book quite well, keeping a very personal perspective (Crowe actually went back to high school before writing the book, posing as a student for a year as research). Amy Heckerling, in her feature debut, has proven herself to be a truly gifted director, able to tickle the ribs with one hand while the other tugs at the heartstrings.
Although the high school setting might at first brand Fast Times as another Porky’s spin-off, the film stands on its own. If comparisons are to be made, they might better link Fast Times with the intimate portrayal of ’50s teens in American Graffiti. Both Graffiti and Times delve beneath the surface of their characters, showing in the process that teenagers haven’t changed all that much. They just quit cruising the main drag with Elvis. Now they “check out” the mall to the beat of the Go Go’s.
The cast approaches the picture with a delightfully devil-may-care sincerity, playing off of one another with a simple ease. It is these characterizations, as written by Crowe and under the skillful eye of Heckerling, that give the film its charm. The most flamboyant in his characterization is Sean Penn as Spicoli, the bleached-out surfer with the permanently blood-shot eyes and a half-smile pinned to his cheeks. Penn provides the wilder moments at Ridgemont High, and to his credit, never dropped the reality of his character in going for a madcap laugh.
Judge Reinhold’s Brad also adds consistent comic edge to the picture with his sad eyes and fast food attitude. Robert Romanus, as Damone, would scalp Ozzy Osbourne tickets to his grandmother, and yet deftly treads the tightrope between cockiness and desperation. Phoebe Cates play the nymphette Linda to the hilt, showing only now and again the lost little girl inside. Jennifer Jason Leigh, as the freshman with a lot to learn, proaches her Stacy with the most even of keels. Her performance, although quite natural, tends toward the monochromatic. Brian Hecker, as the would-be beau, has little to do other than proffer an embarrassed smile. Veteran actor Ray Walston, as the history teacher, plays a sour-pussed straight man to the constant shenanigans of Spicoli.
Music plays an important role in Fast Times, offering an ambience that varies from “Oingo Boingo” to Jackson Browne. Although the likes of the Go Go’s and the Cars are present at times, the soundtrack as a whole seems too staid to provide a backdrop for ’80s kids kicking around in the heyday of punk. Other technical credits include the fine work of Dan Lomin whose art direction gives the Sherman Oaks Galleria an intimacy it has never known. — Gina Friedlande, originally published on Aug. 11, 1982.
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