His three daughters (15, 104 min)
Verdict: Beautifully observed
Death, it occurred to me while watching the new Netflix release His Three Daughters, has been a constant in cinematic narrative more than anything else, including love.
Since the earliest films, death has featured prominently on the big screen, though usually, for obvious dramatic reasons, of a sudden and violent kind.
Understandably, the type of death most of us are familiar with at least a few times in our lives – the lingering death of a parent or friend – is dramatized much less frequently.
But when done well, it can be more moving and more suggestive than almost anything else.
That’s why Pedro Almodóvar’s new film, The Next Room, won the top prize at the Venice Film Festival earlier this month. It’s a compelling study, superbly acted by Tilda Swinton and Julianne Moore, of the ethics and mores surrounding a terminally ill person’s right to choose how and when to die.
Natasha Lyone as Rachel, Elizabeth Olsen as Christina (center) and Carrie Koon as Katie in Their Three Daughters
Carrie Koon plays Katie, the eldest daughter, who is bossy, fragile and high-strung.
His Three Daughters offers a different, but no less absorbing, take on the subject of death. A man, of whom we see very little, receives palliative care in his New York City apartment.
The source of the drama is the relationship between the trio of women awaiting his death: his daughters Katie (Carrie Coon), Christina (Elizabeth Olsen) and Rachel (Natasha Lyonne).
Katie, the eldest, is bossy, fragile and high-strung. According to her phone calls home, she is as tense as a mother. And, though she lives elsewhere in New York, she was not a particularly attentive daughter either. But now, with her father on his deathbed, she is trying to take charge, anguished over his obituary and a do-not-resuscitate form she needs to sign, but exuding very little warmth or compassion.
The middle child, Christina, has flown in from far away, so at least she has an excuse for not seeing much of the old man. She has a small child and a life that, on the surface, seems almost perfect, although of course such lives never are, not in the movies or anywhere else.
The youngest, Rachel, is addicted to marijuana and her throaty voice is that of a chain smoker or a girl preparing for a Marge Simpson impersonation contest. Katie, with whom she clashes repeatedly, believes her to be hopelessly irresponsible. But little by little we realise that she is the only one who regrets her father’s imminent death and, in fact, the one who cared for him devotedly, shared his apartment with him and will inherit it when he is gone.
There are many more nuances within this sibling dynamic and a couple of twists that I won’t share. Not that I’d spoil anything if I did, because the dialogue and performances should be savored. Their three daughters are exquisitely played (especially by Olsen, who somehow turns the least interesting role into the most interesting) and the script is cleverly written by writer-director Azazel Jacobs (whose 2017 film The Lovers was another gem about the shifting sands within family relationships).
Elizabeth Olsen plays the middle child, Christina, who has flown in from away and thus has an excuse not to visit her ailing father.
The youngest daughter, Rachel, played by Natasha Lyonee, is a chain smoker, but she is the only child who devotedly cares for her father. She will inherit the apartment when he dies.
I don’t know if Jacobs wove this story from personal experience or simply from her keen observation of other people. In any case, she writes beautifully for women. I watched it with my wife, who laughed out loud at an exchange between Rachel and Christina, who, as the former suggests, will probably move on and “have” more children.
Christina is annoyed by this description of childbirth. “You can’t hear anything,” she says indignantly. “You can’t hear anything.”
Her Three Daughters is on Netflix.
The Substance (18, 140 minutes)
Verdict: Creepy horror satire
There are plenty of pops in The Substance. In fact, the pops may be the least of it, along with the snaps, pops, oozes and splashes, in a grotesque satire of body horror that isn’t for the squeamish, but may be for the tickled-hearted, if you can find the funny side.
Demi Moore gives a bold, career-best performance as Elisabeth Sparkle, a once-powerful Hollywood star reduced to hosting a TV exercise show — and then stripped of even that by her obnoxious boss (Dennis Quaid), who’s looking for someone younger.
So she does what anyone would do in the same circumstances: She signs up to take a top-secret drug (the “substance” of the title) that promises to reproduce her in a younger form in seven-day cycles. And it works. She gets one precious week as her younger self (played by Margaret Qualley) before turning back into the unwanted fifty-something version.
Writer-director Coralie Fargeat has a lot of fun with this film, especially in the scene where, on her bathroom floor, Sparkle Mark I spawns Sparkle Mark II, aka Sue, and becomes a huge TV star.
Demi Moore gives a bold, career-best performance as Elisabeth Sparkle, a once-powerful Hollywood star reduced to hosting a TV exercise show.
Dennis Quaid stars as Harvey in The Substance, which is now in theaters.
Yet for all its macabre dystopian quality, Oscar Wilde would have recognised this story, which is reminiscent of The Picture of Dorian Gray but which of course has a particular resonance in today’s appearance-obsessed society.
As for Moore, it is always particularly moving in the cinema to see (with respect) a failed actress playing another failed actress. And she does it wonderfully.
The Substance is now in theaters.
All rise to witness a thrilling French trial
The Goldman Affair (12A, 115 minutes)
The winner of the Palme d’Or at last year’s Cannes Film Festival was Anatomy of a Fall, a brilliant crime novel, mostly in French, which fascinatingly recounted the details of a dysfunctional marriage in a courtroom.
Well, I wouldn’t compare French courtroom dramas to London Buses, because it’s not like we knew we were expecting them, but here’s another one, and it’s pretty good too.
The Goldman Case tells the true story of Pierre Goldman (Arieh Worthalter), a leftist Jew and activist who was convicted of committing several armed robberies.
Two women were killed in one of the robberies and in 1974 he was sentenced to life imprisonment, but there were doubts about the veracity of the sentence and about its anti-Semitic nature.
Two years later, with Goldman voluntarily supported by the philosopher Jean-Paul Sartre and the actress Simone Signoret, among others, there was a second highly publicized trial.
The Goldman Affair tells the true story of Pierre Goldman, played by Arieh Worthalter (pictured)
Unlike Anatomy of a Fall, Cedric Kahn’s film takes place almost entirely in a courtroom and consists largely of French people shouting at each other.
But it’s shot in a grainy documentary style and is all the better for it, building to a climax that’s truly fascinating.
The Goldman Case is now in theaters.
