These are the premieres that hit the theaters this May 1:
By Jordi Batlle Caminal
This film begins with the camera walking serenely, relaxed, without rushing, through some trees and their branches in the light of day. Nature immediately permeates. Evil does not exist. Also very relaxed, not suitable for impatient viewers, we see the protagonist chopping wood with the same skill as Charles Bronson in The Magnificent Seven. And then filling jugs of water in a crystalline stream that bathes the soundtrack with its sweet murmur. There are very curious details in this initial section, such as the discovery in the forest of wild wasabi, which will enrich the flavor of the noodle soup, or that of a pheasant feather, which will serve as a musical instrument.
As you can see, everything flows naturally in this small and peaceful rural community. Until we discover that there is a conflict on the horizon: a money-hungry and unscrupulous company intends to set up a luxury campsite in that area (“glamping” they call it, a rather idiotic association of glamor and camping) that will attract tourists but It will inevitably contaminate the pure waters of the place. There is a long and extraordinary scene in which the company’s delegates try to explain the virtues (economic, of course) of the project to some inhabitants who are hostile to it. Unexpectedly, Evil Does Not Exist changes perspective and focuses on those two delegates, who become aware and seem to be on the side of the disadvantaged.
Ryûsuke Hamaguchi, already established thanks to the success (and the Oscar) of Drive My Car, paints the natural landscape and the human landscape up to this point with delicacy, slow breathing, elaborate camera movements and neat realism. But a certain ambiguity is frequent in his cinema (the three stories of The Wheel of Fortune and Fantasy, for example), which here takes place in the final part of the story, which is blackened with somber and dreamlike tones, with Lynchian roots ( and images as fascinating as the shot of the wounded deer), after completely inexplicable events.
Now from the darkness of the night, the same shots of the trees and branches come to question the title of the film: evil perhaps does exist. From light, then, to darkness; from the most diaphanous clarity to the most disconcerting hermeticism. Needless to say, it is not an easy or comfortable work, but it is unique and captivating.
By Salvador Llopart
All families, whether happy or not, end up looking alike. They are the result of a game of unstable balances sifted by memory. They may go through their moment of melancholy, the one that will explode with one too many drinks or one less gesture. And perhaps they will seek reconciliation, after the storm, in a long-postponed embrace. For this reason, because all families end up being a little the same, The House, by Álex Montoya, has a lot of mirrors along the way where we can see ourselves reflected.
Based on a graphic novel of the same name by Paco Roca, it tells us about three brothers who meet in the modest family summer house after the death of their father. You have to decide what to do with that place full of memories. It is time for balance. Also about the reproach and possible reconciliation that we talked about before. Álex Montoya directs with a sense of space: the family house, and its landscape, in the vicinity of Valencia, becomes fundamental. The beat of time is no less so. To evoke that temporal pulse, the director uses different screen formats, at times taking on the improvised air of a film – familiar, of course – in Super 8.
Here the gesture is more important than the word. The truth always lies on the side of looks and attitudes. We are facing a choral effort, of course, as it could not be otherwise in a film that talks about family. With two great singularities, however. On the one hand, the sad, passive, sleepy air of David Verdaguer and, on the other, the contained, threatening, ready to explode rage of Óscar de la Fuente. If I may, I would add, as the third side of the triangle, the young girl of the family – Tosca Montoya – of spontaneous sincerity: the salt of the family gathering.
We are looking at a film of an empire t-shirt and shorts, of being at home and of summer. Under the gentle sun of the Mediterranean. A great little film of contained emotion, as endearing as it is evocative. With a scene added after the final credits, as if it were a Marvel one.
Por Philipp Engel
It cannot be said that the lasagna-eating cat created by Jim Davis has had any luck in the movies. 20 years ago, a live-action animated cat film promised more than it delivered, although it had enough credit to spawn a sequel. History threatens to repeat itself with this animated version, whose best joke is Catflix – a Netflix of kitten videos. The rest is a series of endless tributes to the Mission Impossible action saga with the music blasting to keep the viewer’s attention.
By J. Batlle
The Nun and The Nun 2, Sister Death, The First Prophecy and, now, Immaculate. Horror movies with nuns are in fashion: common habits. Mohan’s film is as conventional as it is effective, insofar as it never bores, it gets to the point, creates a disturbing and unhealthy atmosphere and goes crazy in the last minutes by taking its plot, which is a self-conscious nonsense, to the geographies of the gore, which will delight the consumer. Impeccable composition by Sydney Sweeney.
Por P. Engel
The severe German filmmaker once again provides a series of shots of incorruptible beauty: Protestant rigor, transcendent moroseness, allergy to the obvious. A tragedy on the shores of the Aegean, with beautiful musical epiphanies, that begins when a young man (Aliocha Schneider) accidentally kills the one who tried to kiss him, and falls in love with his jailer (Agathe Bonitzer). It is surprising that such a minimal and elusive plot was the Best Screenplay at the Berlinale, but it is still an intriguing and valuable film.
By S. Llopart
The Montessori method, essential to understand respectful childhood education, has María behind it, María Montessori, a woman who raised problems for society at the beginning of the 20th century ahead of her time. Léa Todorov uses fiction to highlight María’s attitude, as a woman and as a scientist, in a world that denied her right to learn and teach. Better, much better film, when it stops using overly hackneyed liberation schemes and makes evident, through imagination, the emotions at play.
Por P. Engel
The lifelong war against technological advances, read drones, smart missiles, telecommunications. At that crossroads, this predictable rescue mission takes place with the little Hemsworth lost in the Philippine jungle, and Russell Crowe giving him support on the other side of the line, from his base in Las Vegas. A B series with music and the soul of a video game, which entertains with its explosions, bodies as muscular as they are bloody, and its waste in weapons of all calibers.
