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.
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.
To work as both a conductor and composer is to live two separate lives, Leonard Bernstein ruminates in Maestro, and it is this duality which Bradley Cooper reverberates all through his biopic of the great musician, revealing with sweeping passion and subdued restraint the contradictions that lie at the heart of genius.
Ingmar Bergman captures an offbeat blend of his severe dramas and graceful comedies in The Magician, turning a critical eye towards his own craft of underhanded artistic manipulations by centring a travelling troupe of con artists, and lightly exposing the fraud that unites them with their harshest critics.
Marie and Henrik aren’t the first lovers in an Ingmar Bergman film to be brutally torn apart, but they are first to be developed with such visual splendour and warmth, as Summer Interlude dreamily calls back to those nostalgic, youthful vacations that seemed to go on forever, flourishing in the tiny tensions and pleasures of one’s first romance and heartbreak.
