Those 1960s greasers who live fast and die young may be immortalised in The Bikeriders, yet theirs is also a subculture visibly seeping away, as Jeff Nichols examines the inner workings of one Chicago motorcycle club with equal parts sensitivity, scepticism, and swagger.
Dweeby college professor Gary relishes the challenge of posing as fake assassins for police sting operations in Hit Man, though beneath the darkly comic romance he strikes up with a client, Richard Linklater applies a macabre, psychoanalytic lens to false constructs of self-image and identity.
Do Not Expect Too Much from the End of the World’s may focus on a single day for one overworked personal assistant, and yet the bleak urban landscape that Radu Jude stitches together from media fragments and dreary routines reveals the creeping onset of a global apocalypse, mechanically grinding modern civilisation into a never-ending traffic jam.
Wim Wenders’s smooth weaving of one toilet cleaner’s daily routine into the narrative structure of Perfect Days is not only a testament to his own formal attentiveness, but also warmly invites audiences into a collective meditation, finding contentment within the unassuming patterns and details of a modest, dutiful life.
By subverting the archaic legends that pass down prejudices from one generation to the next, Nimona recognises the freedom that lies in open-minded acceptance, uniting a fugitive knight and a chaotic shapeshifter against a conspiracy that threatens to destabilise their futuristic, medieval kingdom.
Lee Cronin brings a refreshing creativity to Sam Raimi’s demonic horror in Evil Dead Rise, as he allegorically twists the image of a loving family into that of dysfunctional household, and lays into the terror of seeing one’s mother transform into a hideous, abusive creature.
It is a cruel twist of irony that sees writer Monk Ellison’s parody of exploitative Black novels exalted as a serious piece of literature in American Fiction, and one which Cord Jefferson wields impressive self-awareness over, sharply satirising the liberal elite’s attempts to assuage their white guilt by gleefully consuming African American trauma in media.
The working-class lovers of Fallen Leaves may be set back by personal flaws, but the string of unlucky coincidences playing a greater cosmic joke on them can’t be ignored either, as Aki Kaurismäki’s minimalist comedy-drama stubbornly seeks romance within the deadpan mundanity of downtown Helsinki.
It is in the anarchic rejuvenation of animation itself that Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: Mutant Mayhem fully embraces the rebellious spirit of its outcast heroes, emulating the sort of colourful scrawls and grungy imperfections that might be found in a teenager’s sketchbook, and vividly manifesting the coming-of-age tale which underlies its kinetic superhero action.
As Grant Singer methodically unravels the brutal murder of a real estate agent into a conspiracy that sprawls across the Maine property market, suspects and detectives alike chillingly shed their skins to reveal their true natures, giving metaphoric significance to the cold-blooded title Reptile.
