“In order to defend their lives in freedom, the aloitadores immobilize the beast’s hand to hand to shave and brand them.”
When the lens opens to take us out of the blackness of the titles, a wild and poetic sequence introduces us to the world of The Beasts (2022). Man against the beast in an ancient dance fueled by pure testosterone. Force prevails over reason; dominance is established, and territory is marked as conquered. Director Rodrigo Sorogoyen (May God Save Us, The Candidate) uses metaphor to introduce his subject. In slow motion we see that wild horse being tamed and the lens closing on its muzzle, which beats exhausted, as an inevitable foreshadowing of what is to come.
Todd Field has a special talent for capturing the human soul. Tár (2022) comes sixteen years after his previous work Little Children (2006) and twenty-one years after his feature directorial debut, In the Bedroom (2001). The common factor in his work is the sharpness with which he displays in images the deepest feelings of the human being. His cinematographic rhythm settles in the vortex of emotions that are born in each of his characters. His work beats to the rhythm of its central characters and generally in that role we have women who are pressured by external elements. This was the case with the characters of Sissy Spacek and Kate Winslet in his previous films and he reaffirms it now with Cate Blanchett.
The screen could never contain her, nor could those 2 hours and 47 minutes of Blonde (2022). Marilyn is larger than life itself, not even death has been able to spoil her figure. Scandals, food to feed morbidly hungry stomachs and the perfect fertilizer to make the figure even more enigmatic. Andrew Dominik knew that he was going to enter a rough terrain, that he was going to be put under the magnifying glass for the mere fact of approaching one of the figures who helped create the Hollywood industry. The seasoned director decided to undertake the task from the part that he is best at, the visual discourse. To put together his story, he relies on the homonymous novel by the American Joyce Carol Oates. At over 700 pages, the book, published in 2000, became a bestseller and was a finalist for the Pulitzer Prize.
Steven Spielberg is synonymous with cinema. In Olympus, a place awaits him to share with the great filmmakers who preceded him and who, like him, were a must for moviegoers. Even for a filmmaker of his caliber, the work he undertakes in The Fabelmans (2022) is challenging. For a man who changed the industry with a shark and some musical notes, who made the world fall in love with an alien, who took us on the most amazing adventures with his Indiana Jones, who saved thousands of Jews from extermination Nazi, who saved Private Ryan and who has shown for more than 5 decades that his thing is to make movies, this is still his most difficult move.
Paint your village and you will paint the whole world.
Leonardo Favio knew that very well. It is as if it were impregnated in his DNA, because he did nothing more than shout to the world the trifles, the details, the most intimate of his “village”. With Nazareno Cruz and the Wolf the Argentine director’s bet was quite risky. Now he was not talking about the oppressed children’s victims of a political and social system like in Chronicle of a Boy Alone (1965), nor about the legendary gaucho of Juan Moreira (1973), now he turns to a character that comes from the Guarani mythology. And we say risky because it is not one of those classic figures from Greek or Norse mythology, it is a figure that has limited relevance within a less widespread culture.