Happy Cannesiversary to "Dheepan"

by Nick Taylor

Hello, TFE readers! If you're like me, you'll be sitting out Cannes this year, using the time to read press coverage or finally see that one thing you've been meaning to watch while others swan across the croisette, conduct interviews, and shill merch for Troma Studios. I'll be spending the 78th Cannes Film Festival and the site's 10|25|50|75|100 series to visit ceremonies of years past, making new friends and revisiting familiar faces. To kick things off, we'll be spending the next few days with some Palme d'Or winners!

Some of you might remember I did not particularly like Emilia Pérez, last year’s genre-explosive musical about a cartel leader striving to reconnect with their family after getting gender-affirming care, as facilitated by her lawyer/hostage/business partner. I will not linger on that mess too much, but there’s a nub to the discourse about Jacques Audiard’s failure to meaningfully engage with any aspect of Mexican culture I did have a problem with. Namely, the idea that him being a cis white French man means he’s inherently incapable of having anything to say about someone who falls outside any of those identity markers. Yes, we can and should discuss if the French as a nation are capable of empathy, but I don’t believe artists cannot and should not make art about people outside their demographics and lived experience . . . .

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"45 Years," Ten Years Later...

by Cláudio Alves

The past is never gone. You think it is, fall into the comfort of believing it dormant, but one day, it awakens and rocks the foundations of the now. This is true of historical cycles, of political waves and culture and vales. It's true of love affairs, too. Of marriage and cinema. 45 Years is a rumination on such ideas, having premiered at the Berlinale a decade ago today, where it signaled the maturation of Andrew Haigh into one of Britain's most essential filmmakers after his promising beginnings in the realm of queer cinema - Greek Pete and Weekend. It also brought Charlotte Rampling out of the rarefied, vaguely alienated, auteurist plane she existed within for many decades, turning her into someone less adventurous cinephiles came to know and cherish.

She also became a first-time Oscar nominee thanks to Haigh's creation. 45 Years remains the crowning achievement of her career, and the same could be said of Tom Courtenay. The Berlinale Jury was right when it gave them both Silver Bears for their performances…

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Nicole Kidman Tribute: Paddington (2014)

by Nick Taylor

I’m going to tell you a secret: I think the first Paddington movie is better than its more critically-adored sequel. Not in every way is this one better: There’s a couple instances of harsh overlighting that take out some shots at the knees, like a key character emerging from a phone booth as a one-sided meet-cute. You could also say that both films - but maybe especially this one - are leaning into Wes Anderson-type confectionaries, especially with the score. But Paddington’s got a lot of buoyant, colorful entertainment to recommend it, and I can’t help but feel Nicole Kidman’s delightful, icy villainess has been overlooked as one of this series’ most notable achievements, alongside the children’s-book palette, Hugh Grant’s more lauded performance in Paddington 2, and fumbling the bag on Sally Hawkins for the upcoming trip to Peru...

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