Week Ending 6/26/26

"The obvious visual and aesthetic touchstone throughout Camp is David Lynch with its surreal out-of-time-and-place nature. Did I have any clue what was going on? Not really. But it’s too transfixing to care."

– Full thoughts at The Film Stage.

Writer/director Alice Winocour talks about her latest film Couture as being a tapestry interwoven between three women (Angelina Jolie's film director Maxine Walker, Anyier Anei's Sudanese first-time model Ada, and Ella Rumpf's make-up artist Angèle), but there's also a fourth in Garance Marillier's dressmaker Christine. I find it interesting to leave her off the list considering her place in their stories and her art's parallels to what they endure.

It's her dress that is opening the show at Milan's Fashion Week—the dress that Ada will be wearing to make her debut. You could say it's like a piece of armor much like the cosmetics Angèle wields to ensure her clients look their best. A means to give its wearer the confidence to inspire. And its construction begins with a series of red lines pinned to a bust for perfect measurements that mirror the marker grid drawn upon Maxine's chest to prepare for surgery.

These are the layers with which Winocour utilizes to bring these women to life as a collective rather than focus solely on one while the others come and go in the background. It's partially why she chose the title Coutures being that the word means "stitches" in French and thus speaks to the sewing of fabric, skin, and lives colliding in a single place from myriad directions. They arrive for the show, but they commiserate over the guttural scream they all wish to let out.

Which is probably why we never actually hear one. Not of anguish when Maxine gets the news of her cancer diagnosis. Not of frustration when Angèle traverses the competitive landscape of an on-call job that treats her as expendable. Not the literal scream Ada must deliver at the climax of the short film Maxine was hired to direct as an introduction to the show. Because, more than the release itself, the film depicts the reasons these women need to scream and why they can't.

This event exposes the rough ecosystem they exist within—one dictated by subservience to the craft, financiers, and audience. You see the knee-jerk cattiness of Ukrainian model Julia (Julia Ratner) thawing upon realizing Ada is more like her than initial thought. The demands forced upon Angèle despite agreed upon terms as well as a male writer charging her to say the real-life moments written in her book aren't "credible."

A big part of the conflict facing Maxine is the result of her finally being able to shoot her dream project when fashion week ends. She and her DP Anton (Louis Garrel) are only here because they needed the work and it fit perfectly within their tight schedule—a schedule that cancer risks throwing out the window. So, as her doctor (Vincent Lindon's Hansen) relays, a choice must be made. The film or the hope to keep living and be with her daughter.

Ada is trying to send money home to her family amidst war and Christine is skipping meals to get her dress perfect. Each of these characters are sacrificing something whether time, health, or sanity to care for and support others, so it means a lot when they're able to find purpose and joy for themselves in the process. Julia tells Ada that she's in control, but the sentiment isn't always true. All we actually control is our reactions to the uncontrollable.

And that's what we're shown on-screen. The poise and courage to keep going despite the chaos and pain thrown their way on a consistent basis. It's about finding people to confide in and support them like they support so many others even if it means opening up to an absolute stranger. Because, while these women might not know each other intimately, they are keenly aware of the weight each carries upon her shoulders.

Couture is very much an actors' film as a result. Performance reigns supreme over plot as the latter exists solely to provide the scenarios for Jolie, Anei, and Rumpf to let their emotions breathe introspection into the machine-like process of this expensive endeavor providing them all a paycheck. Jolie and Anei are the most impactful considering the drama at the back of their storylines, but Rumpf is great too as an observer giving voice to their hopeful sorrow.

It probably won't work for everyone as a whole, but the pieces are worth a look just the same. Because those who don't latch onto its collective spirit of perseverance can at least appreciate the tenacity of a stranger in a strange land finding her footing and a woman reconciling the invincibility that comes from finally getting everything she wants with the reality that nothing in this life is guaranteed. It's often at our most vulnerable that love finds its clearest focus.

7/10

Ryan Gosling's physical comedy ushers us into the world of Project Hail Mary the moment his Ryland Grace wakes from stasis with no recollection of who he is, where he is, or why he's in space. His ability to name the scientific equipment on the walls does allow him to hypothesize he's smart, though. Unfortunately, having the skill to calculate his distance from Earth won't help him understand his purpose. So, the film shifts aspect ratios to reveal events leading here.

Adapted by Drew Goddard from Andy Weir's novel (much like what happened on Ridley Scott's The Martian), directors Phil Lord and Christopher Miller do a wonderful job using these flashbacks as information retrieval and comedic infusion. Because Grace is a funny guy. He's self-deprecating to the point of cowardice when it comes to his beliefs, so putting him opposite regimented government agents Stratt (Sandra Hüller) and Carl (Lionel Boyce) is perfect.

Yes, this is true because of the personality clash, but also because of how Grace's natural charisma seems to thaw them just enough to show their personalities when no one is looking. Boyce is great at letting out his enthusiasm from helping Grace solve complex problems with unorthodox maneuvers and Hüller never wavers in portraying just how serious their situation proves. If he can make them smile despite that, you know he'll have you in stitches too.

The problem (in layman's terms): An extra-terrestrial life form is eating the sun. And not just our sun. Every star that humanity knows about ... except for one. So, since Grace is infamously known for writing a paper about life not needing water and this organism seems to be thriving on stars that obviously have none, he becomes the ideal candidate to start the research. The plan is then to train a team heading on a one-way trip to that sun to figure out how it has survived.

Well, since we met Grace on a spaceship many light years from Earth, something obviously went awry. Before we can begin to hypothesize, however, we become invested in the problems facing him right now. And since the flashbacks (or memories) arrive in chronological order, it's easy forget that he's not supposed to be on this mission. We're too busy parsing the through the issue, solution, and application of what he remembers to the present.

Oh, and he's not alone. Well, he is alone on his spacecraft, but he's not alone in this specific part of space. Why? Because our sun isn't the only one dying. If the laws of probability state that we aren't the only planet with life (and the existence of this new species coined Astrophage, or "star-eater," proves it), we won't be the only one searching for a fix. So, we have one more thing to worry about in the here and now: Grace befriending an alien in Rocky (James Ortiz).

The narrative provides the perfect circumstances with which to ensure this rock-like creature looks as real as possible via stark contrasts to living environments. Grace can't survive in Rocky's atmosphere and Rocky can't survive in Grace's. So, for the most part, the two interact on opposite sides of glass walls. As such, the filmmakers weren't forced into utilizing CGI. They could wield puppetry (Ortiz leads the team of puppeteers too) to better maintain authenticity.

Gosling and Ortiz's rapport is obviously the highlight. They're two similar souls trying to solve the same impossible task in conditions that demand a high level of improvisation on top of intelligence. In many ways they combine to form the ideal team by picking up where the other leaves off. Add a makeshift computer program bridging their language barrier (beyond the usual cultural peculiarities) and their quick wit and comedic timing becomes unparalleled.

We're therefore watching two parallel narrative thrusts at the same time. The first sees Grace and Rocky working the problem to hopefully find an answer they can send back to their respective homes. The second sees Grace's trajectory on Earth from Middle School teacher to the US government's last hope. There's a ton of commentary surrounding heroics, friendship, and self-preservation along the way as Grace better understands the necessity of sacrifice through love.

Greig Fraser's cinematography is always keeping things interesting despite being mostly a one-location setting and Daniel Pemberton's score is jacked into the fun nature of this otherwise mortal race against time. And since Lord and Miller are very different in their directorial sensibilities than a veteran like Scott, you must give Goddard a lot of credit for keeping Weir's voice intact regardless. Project Hail Mary and The Martian are kindred spirits. If you love one, you'll love both.

The same with Gosling's Grace and Matt Damon's Mark Watney. Their ability to play off the camera with humor despite just talking aloud to themselves is a gift, but their genuine emotion when called upon (and it is called upon a lot here since we're dealing with two characters trying to stave off extinction) is what sets them apart—mostly due to that pathos augmenting the lighter moments through the contrast. Gosling is an absolute joy from start to finish.

And what more can be said about Rocky? He's an ever-moving ball of energy whose infinite curiosity pairs well with Grace's wealth of pessimistic sarcasm. We go from the latter's desperation for interaction to hiding from the former because Rocky's hearing and sight are too good to ever give him a moment's peace. While Grace and Stratt float in the background together on Earth, Rocky pulls him into the chaos to bask in its joy. He's reminding Grace what it means to live.

9/10

Marina (Llúcia Garcia) assumes it's just a clerical error. That things were crazy almost twenty years ago when both her parents died from AIDS due to heroin use and the details got mixed up. Why else would her biological father's death certificate have the wrong year? Why else would it say he died with no children? She'll head to Vigo, meet his side of the family for the first time (she's been raised by her mother's sister), and get it cleared up during a much-coveted reunion.

It's what her uncle Lois (Tristán Ulloa) assumes too upon picking her up to sail to her grandparents' house. Have a good time and see life on the opposite side of the peninsula. Learn more about her father than the little she's gleaned from her mother's diaries. It'll be a final vacation before heading to university on the scholarship that necessitates her being officially claimed as a Piñero. That sun, fun, and heritage on the sea, however, hits a snag once truths and lies mix.

Another semi-autobiographical film from director Carla Simón (based off her mother Neus Pipó Simón's letters), Romería initially unfolds with Marina laughing off these discrepancies. Diary facts refuted by Lois. Her father's real death year causing her to wonder if her aunt got it wrong purposefully. And, of course, grandma (Marina Troncoso) flatly saying how she looks nothing like her mother despite everyone else saying she's a spitting image.

It's therefore a fascinating progression as the ways in which Marina's estranged family speaks about her parents reveal deeper secrets some of them still aren't willing to confront. Because the AIDS epidemic was a big taboo in the 1980s and held an immense stigma where it came to families wanting to admit members had it. Who's to say that Marina's adoptive mom truly thought her dad died five years earlier than he did because that is what she was told?

It would explain why her grandfather (José Ángel Egido) would claim Fon had no children since admitting he did meant admitting he existed at all. There are so many moments that stick throughout this film (including a wonderful dream-like sequence at the end visualizing Marina's mother's words with Garcia and Mitch Martín—who also plays Marina's cousin Nuno—as her parents), but I can't shake only seeing four photos on the grandparents' wall instead of five.

Fon has all but been erased. If not for Marina's arrival, they might have left him relegated to passing memories and prejudices. We can tell Lois wants to talk—perhaps because he was in France when Fon died. Iago (Alberto Gracia) enjoys talking about his brother but doesn't because it hurts too much. Olalla (Miryam Gallego) told her kids not to touch Marina in case she has AIDS too. And "cool aunt" Virxinia (Sara Casasnovas) could probably go either way.

So, we watch as Marina comes to grips with a known truth being warped through the convenient desires of others. We listen as she does from around corners during arguments between her aunts and uncles discussing whether or not to give her what she wants since they know her grandparents have left it this long for a reason. Iago pulls no punches when talking about his father, though, so we're prepared for every selfish outcome when they arise.

More than just this stance to erase Fon's life, however, we're also learning about the reverberations of the 1980s still felt in 2004. Marina wasn't the only one who lost her parents, but she might be the only one who became a teetotaler as a result. Conversations about drugs hold a heavier weight than merely parents watching out for their kids. There's history. There's fear. There are more secrets than you can count with more lies yet to be revealed.

The real showstopper, though, is a moment within that "flashback" dream as Marina's parents sell heroin at a club. What starts as a continuation of events read from the diary soon moves into an interpretative dance wherein the participants start to fall one by one with each being caught and covered by a white sheet to signify their death. By the end there are more sheets than people before those who remain disappear completely to leave only the ghosts.

It's a perfect representation of how this family views Fon. They've allowed him to become little more than a statistic after how they dealt with his illness and its aftermath. Marina's presence forces them to recognize his ghost and remember the flawed person he was. That despite how they treated his final years, he did leave something behind that was worth claiming. The question then becomes whether they'll be allowed to turn Marina into a ghost too.

The film itself looks great thanks to Hélène Louvart's cinematography and the aesthetic choice to merge past and present with words and visuals via the diary, Marina's Aughts-era digital videos, and that dream sequence. The layers between Marina and her mother are intentional. As are the ones between Nuno and Fon. It can get a bit weird considering the result is a couple of flirtatious cousins, but that confusion is part of it. "Does blood make you family?"

And Garcia is fantastic in the lead role. This is her feature debut—something Simón is used to having generally used non-actors in her previous films. The change here, however, is that this newcomer must hold her own against industry veterans to maintain a sense of innocence as the outsider upon entering their family and the palpable courage to stand her ground when they try defining that presence on their terms rather than her own.

8/10