The protagonist of “Males” is a lady. Her title is Harper, and he or she’s simply witnessed a horrible tragedy — the dying of her husband, probably by suicide — and fled their London condominium for just a few days’ retreat within the distant countryside. Biking by grief, reduction, unease, panic, marvel and horror, she at the least has the nice fortune to be performed by Jessie Buckley, an actor who holds you (not for the primary time) together with her startling emotional immediacy and seemingly limitless vary. Alas, Harper additionally has the misfortune of anchoring the most recent cinematic phantasmagoria from Alex Garland, a author and director who likes to play sinister thoughts video games with characters and audiences alike.
Calling your film “Males” may qualify as one such thoughts recreation, particularly within the context of a narrative the place males are whole slime — fairly actually, within the film’s spectacularly gooey third act. However I’m getting forward of the plot, and in addition perpetuating the narrowness of the discourse that’s prone to swirl round “Males’s” unforeseeable, un-unseeable closing moments. The sooner passages are almost as astonishing to behold, and no much less troubling to consider. Garland attracts on customary thriller conventions and ideas — a stalker situation, a slasher set-piece, a body-horror climax — however nothing about what he’s making an attempt to say is straightforward to pinpoint or summarize.
It begins with the primary of some ominous flashbacks to the day that Harper’s husband, James (Paapa Essiedu), plummeted to his dying from the high-rise flat simply above theirs. The 2 lock gazes as he drops previous their window in sickening slow-motion; Harper, you’ll discover, has a bloody nostril. Sure art-house-horror-loving minds may recall the equally grisly prologue of Lars von Trier’s “Antichrist” — a connection bolstered by Harper’s sudden, traumatized retreat right into a forest primeval the place numerous Edenic symbolism and gender-confrontational violence await. (Quite a lot of magnificence too, courtesy of Rob Hardy’s sharp, crystalline images and the doomy choral menace of Geoff Barrow and Ben Salisbury’s rating.)
The nation home that Harper has rented for just a few days seems to be spacious, lovely and idyllic, even when there are none-too-subtle warning indicators within the blood-red partitions and the apple tree rising within the entrance yard. “Forbidden fruit,” jokes the home’s proprietor, Geoffrey (Rory Kinnear), simply in case the allusion wasn’t apparent sufficient. A disquietingly awkward fellow, Geoffrey offers Harper an preliminary tour of the property, all of the whereas peppering her with dumb quips and invasive questions on her marital standing. There are numerous males like him in “Males,” and I once more imply that actually. As Harper settles in, explores the woods and video-chats with a sympathetic girlfriend (Gayle Rankin), we begin to discover that the varied males she encounters all seem like the identical individual — man-ifestations, if you’ll, of the identical malevolent pressure.
And Kinnear performs all of them with virtuoso ability, giving an array of distinct performances offset by intelligent variations in costume, hair, accent and vocal inflection. Each considered one of these males is his personal type of nightmare. There’s the village priest who listens intently to Harper’s story earlier than putting an unsolicited hand on her knee, and in addition the adolescent boy (Kinnear aided by some ingenious digital trickery) who verbally harasses her in a churchyard. Most alarmingly, there’s the silent stalker who turns up stark bare within the woods after which follows her again to the home, organising a terrifically shivery scene wherein Harper is briefly, blissfully unaware of what’s transpiring simply outdoors her window. (Watch the home windows in “Males” rigorously, each for the scary visions they reveal and the equally eerie photographs they mirror again.)
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By the point Harper steps right into a pub stuffed with Kinnears, you may flash again on “Being John Malkovich,” with its disquietingly humorous multitude-of-Malkoviches set-piece, or maybe the animated “Anomalisa,” wherein each supporting position was voiced by Tom Noonan. The resemblances to Charlie Kaufman’s model of mind-bending absurdity are telling, and never simply because Buckley lately starred in Kaufman’s “I’m Considering of Ending Issues,” one other film that appeared to pit her towards the phantom projections of an overweening male thoughts. It’s as if there have been one thing about Buckley’s openness and unassuming heat on display that conjures up sure administrators to make use of her as a dramatic counterweight, even a corrective, to all method of boorish habits.
She is, in fact, nonetheless getting used, even when it’s to an aesthetically and politically admirable finish. And if Buckley is wholly convincing as a lady being repeatedly attacked by an omnipresent enemy, Harper herself is underwritten to a level that feels each comprehensible — she’s a clean slate in an allegorical assemble — and frustratingly restricted. Essentially the most salient element about her appears to be her supremely poisonous marriage — an interracial marriage, it’s price noting, to a mentally troubled Black man, although it’s unclear what we’re meant to remove from that narrative alternative (or the truth that Harper’s subsequent terrorizers are all white males). The flashbacks to Harper and James’ marriage, whereas tense and arresting, are arguably the story’s weakest hyperlink, primarily as a result of they make express what is best left ambiguous.
Rory Kinnear within the film “Males.”
(Kevin Baker)
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Harper is thus each empowered and disempowered; she’s a fighter, a survivor and generally a passive observer. And Garland, as her male creator, doesn’t essentially exempt himself from the implications of his film’s blunt, accusatory title. Nonetheless, he’s very a lot on his heroine’s aspect. He has, in a way, been working his approach towards “Males” for some time now, having beforehand written and directed the feminist, futurist shockers “Ex Machina” and “Annihilation.” Each these films put gender codes and style conventions well into play, taking historically male-molded fantasies of creation and destruction and firmly handing ladies the narrative reins. Each additionally make subversive use of containment and isolation, trapping their characters in distant settings whereas additionally opening up wealthy new dimensions of technological and evolutionary chance.
Whereas “Males” shares loads of thematic DNA with its predecessors, its gender politics are each extra overt and extra opaque. The #MeToo overtones are onerous to overlook, particularly with the loathsome determine of Kinnear’s priest — a stand-in for each clergyman who’s ever turned to the material to bury his sexual wishes, and in addition each spiritual establishment that’s ever blamed a lady for her husband’s abuse. However Western faith is hardly Garland’s sole focus right here. Amongst Harper’s extra intriguing discoveries is a set of stone carvings, centuries-old pagan artifacts whose varied summary meanings — intercourse and fertility, start and rebirth — turn out to be flesh and blood in “Males’s” climactic maelstrom (male-strom?) of photographs.
That finale throws an terrible lot at you: flickering lights and frenzied pursuits; gaping wounds that resemble sexual orifices; maniacal grins and grotesque bodily expulsions that really feel indebted to trendy cinema’s scariest Davids (Lynch and Cronenberg). However as with “Annihilation” earlier than it, the extra surreal “Males” will get, the much less scary and extra melancholy it turns into; it’s as if the film had been peeling again the pores and skin of its chosen topic to disclose the diseased, writhing and admittedly pitiable mess beneath. And Garland, like a coroner performer an post-mortem, surveys his specimen with medical rigor, gallows humor and the faintest trace of sorrow. Males are the worst. However “Males” remains to be one thing to see.
‘Males’
Ranking: R for disturbing and violent content material, graphic nudity, grisly photographs and language
When you watch a David Cronenberg film, you pretty much have to expect something done in a unique register. Whether it’s his various body horror works or when he tackles other genres, it’s handled in a manner unlike most other storytellers. So, when it comes to The Shrouds, of course a Cronenberg movie about grief would be different than any other put on celluloid. Playing at the New York Film Festival, it’s a flick that has much to ponder, though how much of it translates to the audience will depend on the viewer.
The Shrouds is a movie with a lot on its mind, even if surprisingly little happens over the course of its two hour runtime. It’s meant to evoke feelings, while also being fairly clinical for a story about grief. As befits Cronenberg, conspiracy and technology also loom large, as does some kink, so there’s genre work at play, even if this isn’t another effort in the horror genre for the filmmaker.
Sideshow/Janus Films
In the near future, Karsh (Vincent Cassel) is a successful businessman who has developed a type of software within a special “shroud” that, paired with his graves, allows the grieving to check in on their passed loved ones, observing the gradual decay while buried. Known as GraveTech, it’s clearly not for everyone, but it means a lot to him, especially as he’s mourning the loss of his wife Becca (Diane Kruger). Karsh tries to date, but he mostly talks about her and the technology, so he’s not exactly a hoot. Most of his time is spent either with his former sister in law Terry (Kruger as well), her ex-husband Maury (Guy Pearce) who handles his computer operations, or his AI assistant Hunny.
When some of the graves are vandalized, Karsh begins to investigate. What starts out as a personal mission quickly becomes something else, as a potential conspiracy unravels. At the same time, he begins a sexual relationship with Terry, one that Maury has been fretting over the possibility of for some time. As the crisis deepens, Karsh starts wondering if he’s losing it, if something nefarious is afoot, or if both are possibilities.
Sideshow/Janus Films
Making star Vincent Cassel up to look like Cronenberg himself is certainly a choice, but there’s still a fine performance here to consider. Cassel has to depict grief in a very distinct manner while still getting everything across to the audience, which he largely succeeds at. As filmmaker surrogates go, it works. Diane Kruger has multiple roles to play, but it’s largely Terry that we see her in action, and it’s a strong performance. She’s really leaning into some of the kink elements that the filmmaker loves, too, which is a fun little bonus. For a therapy style work, Cronenberg still can’t help himself. Guy Pearce is a bit more mannered here than I’d like, but it’s still another interesting performance from someone incapable of not grabbing your attention. The supporting cast includes Jennifer Dale, Sandrine Holt, Elizabeth Saunders, Steve Switzman, Jeff Yung, and more.
Writer/director David Cronenberg is working in a different register here, obviously given the loss of his own wife. The Shrouds starts out largely mellow, only going up in escalation in the back end. Now, the third act does kind of fall apart, but it’s not a death blow for the film. Instead, it just showcases some of the limits of the story Cronenberg is penning. That being said, the moments of humor are well placed, so there’s a break in the dour nature at times. His direction is as solid as ever, even showcasing periodic restraint. It’s perhaps middle of the road for his career, but that still isn’t half bad.
The Shrouds works best as a Cronenberg curiosity, given the newfound subject matter and his personal connection. If you’re a fan of his, especially if you’re invested in him as a person, there’s plenty to chew on. As a full on film, it’s more hit or miss, but there’s enough here to warrant a recommendation. This is unlikely to be a movie that highlights NYFF this year, but it’s certainly going to stand out, at least a bit.
It’s been less than a year since comedian Nate Bargatze made his debut hosting “Saturday Night Live,” but the appearance was so well received that he’s back already, alongside a stacked lineup of Season 50 hosts that include Jean Smart, John Mulaney and Michael Keaton.
Was it as strong a showing as last time? Not exactly. The monologue was more scattershot and less finely crafted than last year’s and the sketches were less uniformly great, but there was still some strong material. Bargatze’s every-guy vibe still fits “SNL” nicely, particularly in sketches where he’s playing with language, such as a sequel to 2023’s fantastic George Washington weights and measurements scene or a pitch perfect “Sábado Gigante” parody (it only took 50 years) in which Bargatze plays a befuddled audience member pulled into the show with only a rudimentary — but not completely blank — understanding of the Spanish being spoken around him. Bargatze led a funny pre-taped sketch in which a golf tournament competitor keeps inadvertently harming wildlife on the course.
Elsewhere, Bargatze played an EMT who, with his partner (Michael Longfellow), is trying to convince water park workers to let a dead body go down a slide rather than carry it down 255 steps. He portrayed a coach who wants to be paid for football jerseys and the husband of a woman (Heidi Gardner) determined to win a very messy eating challenge at a restaurant. Musical guests Coldplay performed “All My Love” and “We Pray,” the latter featuring Palestinian singer Elyanna and Argentine singer Tini. A title card before the closing hugs honored Kris Kristofferson, who died Sept. 28 at 88. The singer-songwriter and actor hosted “SNL” in 1976 during the show’s first season.
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As with Bargatze as host, this week’s cold open was a case of: “It worked great, let’s do it again.” All the guest stars who appeared in last week’s cold open were back for the “SNL” take on the vice presidential debate. Bowen Yang and Jim Gaffigan returned as Sen. J.D. Vance and Gov. Tim Walz, respectively, on the debate stage, while Vice President Kamala Harris (Maya Rudolph) and husband Doug Emhoff (Andy Samberg) watched at home and were visited by a mostly confused President Biden (Dana Carvey).
Kamala, on top of the world, celebrated endorsements from Liz Cheney and Bruce Springsteen, but her joy was short-lived as she watched Walz flub lines — “I’m friends with school shooters” — and got too friendly with Vance. “Why are they friends?” she cried. “Why are they vibing?” On the debate stage, Vance and Walz get so familiar that they try to touch hands across the split scene while “Take My Breath Away” plays. Walz explained his mistake about saying he was in Hong Kong during the Tiananmen Square massacre by telling viewers he forgot he was at Epcot. Vance, meanwhile, inserted mid-sentence pleas to not be fact checked while expressing support for former President Trump.
But like last week, it was Dana Carvey’s Biden impression that stole the show, whether he was announcing things that are down, like gas prices and Emmys for “The Bear,” or waving an ice cream cone that landed ice cream on Kamala’s face. As Rudolph maintained her composure even as ice cream dripped down her chin, it was hard to forget that Carvey and David Spade, the co-host of “Fly on the Wall” podcast, said this week that sometimes physical ad libs or flubs on the show are really accidental-on-purpose, as was the case with Biden burying his head in Kamala’s hair on last week’s show.
Bargatze’s monologue was shorter than last time around and without a strong close, but it still had great lines as the comedian discussed going to community college (“… where they’re like, ‘You’re probably staying in your community.’”) and, at length, his addiction to processed foods (“I’m a farm-factory-table guy.”) and ordering junk food from DoorDash late at night. Bargatze said he’s even double-dashed, ordering from two places simultaneously on the food-delivery service, which causes him anxiety when two different drivers show up at the same time. “I need one of them to get in a wreck! I’m mortified!” he said. There were also funny bits about the “extra” in extra virgin olive oil and what happened when he ate a raspberry for the first time at the age of 40. Unlike last year’s monologue, this one wasn’t as razor sharp, but the material overall had the comic’s signature specificity and bafflement at the world.
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Best sketch of the night: Washington returns to claim freedom for hot-dog lovers
Diminishing returns are sometimes fine if the original was this strong. In a sequel to the weights and measure sketch, George Washington (Bargatze) stands on a boat, telling his soldiers about the future of the English language. A dozen is a word for 12, but, “Only 12 shall have its own word.” We’ll spell Jeff two ways, one with a J and, “The stupid way with the G.” A hot dog, Washington says, will not be made of dogs. But when asked what they’re made of, he says, “Nobody knows.” When a soldier questions that, he’s invited to leave the boat, right into the water. Like last time, Washington largely ignores questions from a soldier (Kenan Thompson) over what will happen to slaves after the war, at least this war in 1776.
Also good: You don’t have to know Spanish to understand ‘Sábado Gigante’
Bargatze plays an audience member called on stage by host Don Francisco (Marcello Hernández), who leads him through a random set of sketches, dance numbers and game-show segments, which is not at all different from what the real show was like; ask anybody who grew up in a Spanish-speaking household before 2015. For Hernández’s absolute commitment to the sketch, Bargatze’s so-real-it-stings confusion, the kid in the beard dressed like Bargatze’s character, and the puppet orange in a sailor suit, this one wins our hearts as much as winning five dogs on a game show might.
Will probably go viral: ‘Sushi Glory Hole’ is the new ‘Dick in a Box’
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Slotted as it was so late in the show, a new “SNL” digital short featuring Lonely Island’s Samberg and Akiva Schaffer was so surprising, catchy and pushing the line of good taste that it feels like something that could take off in a big way online. (The term “Sushi Glory Hole,” in fact, was already trending on X shortly after the episode aired.) The premise? Two musicians (or are they businessmen?) pitch the idea of a hole in a bathroom wall that feeds you fresh sushi. That’s it. That’s the joke. But it’s taken to hilariously dumb lengths even as those being pitched (Maya Rudolph among them) are just trying to leave the room.
‘Weekend Update’ winner: Jane Wickline stayed at the party too long
It sometimes takes a while to get to know new cast members, but this segment was a nice introduction. Jane Wickline appeared in the water slide sketch as the only voice of reason and in a “Weekend Update” segment, playing piano and singing about staying overnight at a party that has long since stopped being a party. When Colin Jost tries to wrap up the song midway through, she says, “I intend to keep singing.” Clever, playful lyrics and a strong performance suggest great things to come on “SNL” for Jane Wickline.
Philippe Lacôte’s Killer Heat is a suspense thriller set on the tranquil island of Crete, Greece. The island’s stunning landscape, with rugged mountains and pristine beaches, creates the perfect setting for this atmospheric mystery. Initially, the film may feel too laid-back for its own good, but as the plot unfolds, it finds its groove, delivering a cohesive, engaging story. Much like its setting, Killer Heat is refreshingly straightforward, avoiding a forced sense of suspense. The mystery unravels at a measured pace, allowing the viewer to savour the journey.
The plot itself may not break new ground, with relatively low stakes, but what makes it work is the absence of unnecessary storytelling shortcuts. Joseph Gordon-Levitt plays Nick Bali, a private investigator hired to look into the mysterious death of Leo (Richard Madden), the heir of the wealthy Verdakis family.
The film opens with Leo climbing a cliff while Bali narrates the Greek myth of Icarus, the man who flew too close to the sun. Leo soon falls to his death, and the family—except for Leo’s sister-in-law, Penelope (Shailene Woodley)—considers it a tragic accident.
Penelope, however, is convinced otherwise, refusing to trust the local police, claiming her “family owns them”, and that “in Crete, no one goes against the gods”. The film’s integration of Greek metaphors adds a touch of mysticism.
What’s refreshing about Killer Heat is that it doesn’t trick the audience. From the first scene, it’s clear that the culprit isn’t an outsider, but that doesn’t take away from the suspense.
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