Absolute Dominion: The Kumite of World Religions

Athletes talk about God all the time, but it is weird when Sagan Bruno does it. That is because he is sponsored by the Institute of Humanism and Science (IHS). He represents secular humanism in the global kumite to determine which faith will rule the world. Yet, lately, he has heard God speaking to him. Of course, he is the first to agree he maybe just took a few too many to the head. Regardless, he must keep fighting to save the world from all the rival theocracies vying for global supremacy in director-screenwriter Lexi Alexander’s Absolute Dominion, which releases today in theaters and on digital.

Fix Huntley (a very shticky Patton Oswalt) was just another loud-mouth influencer, until he jokingly suggested an MMA battle royale featuring each faith’s standard-bearer settle the religious wars devastating the planet. The idea caught on like wild fire. The “Absolute Dominion” treaties were codified, fighters were trained, and Huntley grew to prophet-like status. Through a loop-hole, the IHS had a sufficient ethical framework to submit their own fighter. Lacking an inventory of holy warriors, they genetically engineered Sagan (in honor of Carl?) Bruno.

His father, Dr. Yehuda Bruno, is a scientist and his coach. His mother is an Olympic gymnast and Rhodes scholar, but she and Sagan aren’t close. Arguably, Bruno’s trainer Anton Moskovitz is like a second parent. However, Bruno will quickly develop a close rapport with Naya Olinga, his bodyguard during the wild card tournament. Weirdly, she volunteered, even though Bruno is considered the longest of long shots.

Nevertheless, Bruno quickly emerges as a bracket-buster, breaking multiple Absolute Dominion records. Naturally, all the media attention concerns the Absolute Dominion organizers, who fear a victorious atheist would launch fresh waves of sectarian violence, so they leak surveillance video in which Bruno talks about the possibly divine voice that speaks to him (unheard by the audience). Frankly, that makes many people even more intrigued, which means Olinga will be very busy during this assignment.

First of all and perhaps most importantly, Absolute Dominion works pretty well as a no-holds-barred beatdown. Lead actor Desire Ma is clearly a natural athlete and he broods with considerable screen presence. He also gets terrific martial arts support from Junes Zahdi and Fabiano Viett as Bruno’s greatest rivals (who want to beat him fair and square in the ring).

The Jazz Television of Robert Herridge

There was a time jazz and classical musicians, even including opera singers, regularly performed on The Tonight Show. That was when Johnny Carson hosted—and it certainly helped that he idolized Buddy Rich. Yet, the idea all music deserves representation goes back to Robert Herridge, who produced many arts-focused anthology and variety programs for CBS. In fact, Herridge oversaw some of the most important jazz programs to ever air on American television. His close jazz advisor, the late, great Nat Hentoff explains how and why they came to be in John Sorensen’s documentary, The Jazz Television of Robert Herridge, which screens this Sunday at Anthology Film Archives, to celebrate the publication of The Herridge Style (edited by Sorensen).

When Herridge decided to produce a jazz showcase, he first sought the counsel of critic Whitney Balliet, who connected the producer with the younger Hentoff, who became his jazz guru. Together they assembled an amazing, but not obviously commercial line-up for The Sound of Jazz, which is now considered a pivotal moment in jazz history and spawned a perennially popular companion album.

You might have heard about these sessions in Ken Burns’ Jazz and other documentaries, because they captured Billie Holiday’s final performance with her indefinably close friend, Lester Young. It also documented one of the first TV appearances for Thelonius Monk, who many critics and fans dismissed at the time as too outré. Hentoff and Herridge were way ahead of the curve recognizing his genius. Yet, they also programmed traditional Dixieland artists, like Peewee Russell, whom many considered too passé.

Perhaps Miles Davis was most notable jazz musician of the era not represented in The Sound of Jazz, so Herridge and Hentoff convinced him to appear in The Sound of Miles Davis, featuring his So What quintet and a big band conducted by Gil Evans. Unfortunately, it is much harder to find, in toto, than The Sound of Jazz. A third program, Jazz from Studio 61, followed featuring the very modern Ahmad Jamal (whose popularity at the time approached that of Davis) with an all-star ensemble of swing and traditional musicians, including Buck Clayton and Ben Webster.

Herridge and Hentoff also collaborated on two showcases for blues and folk, which also arguably had a lasting impact. Indeed, according to Bob Dylan, he first heard Joan Baez when she performed on one of these broadcasts, so you could make a case Timothee Chalamet owes his second Oscar nomination to Herridge.

Camera Three: Moby-Dick (Part 5)

This was the era before high def. Frankly, in 1954, they hardly had any def whatsoever. Consequently, it is difficult to appreciate early television as it was experienced by the original audience (whose TV’s were small black-and-white screens on enormous consoles). However, the classy minimalist aesthetic of Robert Herridge’s Camera Three anthology series still holds up. Long considered lost, the fifth concluding installment of Camera Three’s Moby-Dick, directed by Frank Moriarty, screens as part of Anthology Film Archive’s Herridge program this Sunday.

As viewers ought to know, nearly the entire crew of the Pequod is doomed. They all realize it too by the start of the fifth episode. Starbuck just missed his chance to essentially “frag” Captain Ahab, whose obsession with the white whale will obviously end in disaster. Starbuck still tries to persuade Ahab to return to Nantucket, but the die is cast.

Moriarty and Herridge (the producer and screenwriter) never resort to plastic whales or drenching the cast with buckets of water. This is a Spartan set, consisting of little more than masts. The small ensemble relates most of the action in monologues, faithfully distilled (by Herridge) from Melville’s text. Yet, the stark use of light and shadow, as well as the cast’s powerful deliveries remain eerily powerful.

One of the saddest aspects of Camera Three’s adaptation of Moby-Dick is the hauntingly good performance of Gerald Sarracini as Starbuck.  At the time, he was an emerging star on TV and Broadway, but a street fight cut his life tragically short. Had he lived, he might have been considered in the company of John Cassavetes and Ben Gazzara.

It is also quite a revelation to watch Earle Hyman, who is truly magnetic as Ismail. While Hyman did indeed enjoy a long career, he is unfortunately best known for playing Cliff Huxtable’s father on The Cosby Show (which has fallen out of favor, for reasons beyond his control), while his early prestigious work on Moby-Dick remains largely missing and/or unavailable.

Furthermore, Peter Mark Richman (who was a staple on 1950s-1970s TV, including The Twilight Zone) might contribute one of the best portrayals of Stubb, of any adaptation. Of course, the Ahab makes or breaks every Moby-Dick, but the now little-known A. Winfield Hoeny (who recorded several spoken-word 78s) completely looks and sounds the part.

Fortunately (since this is all we have), the fifth installment of Moby-Dick stands on its own quite well, but it is shame the entire adaptation remains essentially lost. It still represents some terrific television, featuring a number of recognizable character actors, at their finest. Very highly recommended (and not just as a novelty), Moby-Dick Part 5 screens this Sunday (5/11) at Anthology Film Archives.

Jana, Marked for Life, on Viaplay

In the late Eighteenth Century, Norrkoping was one of three Swedish cities where Jews were allowed to live (along with Stockholm and Gothenburg). In recent years, there has been a dark side to the harbor city’s openness, as the authorities have struggled with illegal immigration and human trafficking. Perhaps something like that happened to Jana Berzelius, who has recently followed in the footsteps of her adoptive father, into the prosecutorial service. However, her first case might be her last, when she participates in an investigation involving child assassins who literally bear the same markings she still carries on he back of her neck in co-creators Felix Herngren & Henrik Bjorn’s six-episode Jana, Marked for Life, which premieres tomorrow on Viaplay.

Hans Juhlen was the director of the local government migrant agency, who was known to get a little “hands on” with some of his cases. As fate would have it, he helped facilitate Karl and Margarethe Berzelius’s adoption of Jana, after she mysteriously washed up in the harbor. However, she was so prone to rage, paranoia, and violence, they sent her to a psychiatrist privy to questionable trauma research, who basically drugged Jana’s bad memories away.

Of course, they were not really gone. They always returned in dreams and now start surfacing in sudden flashes prompted by Berzelius’s first case: Juhlen’s murder, apparently committed by a child. Even though Juhlen approached Berzelius at her father’s retirement party, on the night of his death, she minimizes her connection, so she can still work the case. To put it bluntly, she lies to Peer Bruckner, the senior prosecutor assigned to the case (and perhaps her potential love-interest) and she keeps deceiving him as she gets pulled more deeply into her dangerous past.

It is hard to say who makes worse decisions, the erratic, half-cocked Berzelius, or her law enforcement rival, police officer Mia Bolander, whose class-conscious resentment of the new prosecutor also acts like an antidote to her common sense. However, their horrendous decision-making at least earns credit for advancing the plot. Without them blundering into crime scenes, most of the series would probably consist of Bruckner filling out forms in triplicate.

Gaea-Tima: The Gigantis, Manga

King Kong had Ann Darrow and Mothra had the singing Shobijin fairies, so if this kaiju takes an active interest in Miyako, you could argue he is only following in tradition. However, they might share a disturbingly close connection that rather alarms the sensitive teen. Yet, that “relationship” might help Miyako save her seaside village of Sukuba from future kaiju attacks in artist-writer KENT’s manga, Gaea-Tima: The Gigantis (vol. 1), which is now on-sale at comic retailers.

Ten years ago, Sukuba barely survived Gaea-Tima’s rampage. However, the aftermath was strangely profitable. Although Gaea-Tima turned the offshore waters black, it produced famously tasty seafood. The community also benefited from a wave of kaiju tourism. Since Miyako still suffers from PTSD, she finds the Gaea-Tima fascination perverse and even insulting. Nevertheless, she profits from it more than anyone, having found modest fame for her handcrafted vinyl Gaea-Tima figurines. She also works in her mother’s seafood restaurant—and resignedly expects to remain stuck there the rest of her life.

Things start to change when a fan pays a visit. That would be the kaiju-crazy oceanographer, Tatsukuni-san. He should resent kaiju more than anyone, since his formerly wealthy family was financially ruined by a kaiju attack.  Instead, he is quite philosophic when it comes to the great behemoths. He also might be handy to have around when a new, completely different kaiju attacks Sukuba. Fortunately, a kaiju resembling Gaea-Tima rises out of the water to fight it off, like the kinder, gentler Godzilla of the later films. Of course, that prompts the question of why, which seems to involve Miyako.

In a way, Gaea-Tima: The Gigantis channels the angst and existential dread of the very first Godzilla, in its original Japanese cut. Indeed, for Miyako, there is absolutely nothing campy about a kaiju attack. Arguably, that emotional realism sets KENT’s manga apart from other kaiju films and comics.

The Moogai, from Australia

It is sort of like a supernatural dingo, who is out to steal Sarah’s baby, Jacob. Unfortunately, few people believe in that folky monster, much like Meryl Streep’s cradle-snatching dingoes in A Cry in the Dark. Sadly, that even includes Sarah herself (at least for most of the film). Of course, her long-absent birth-mother, Ruth knows only too well the creature exists, because she only barely survived an encounter with it during her childhood. She is the best hope to save Jacob, but Sarah’s skepticism (and the “dominant” white culture she is responding to) make Ruth’s mission even more difficult in director-screenwriter Jon Bell’s The Moogai, which opens in theaters this Friday.

Sarah is actually crushing it brokering M&A deals for her firm. Arguably, she is sort of having it all, balancing her career in finance with motherhood. That luck ran out when she went into labor with Jacob. Technically, the difficult delivery killed her for several seconds, but somehow the insensitive Anglo-Aussie doctor revived her.

Of course, he prescribes plenty of rest, but Sarah starts to fear sleep, because of the freaky nightmares, featuring an eerie looking little girl and a nasty monster with long taloned fingers. Ruth would know that is the Moogai, because it left the scars that still mark her face. However, Sarah remains rejects all the old superstition. Believing her mother abandoned her, she instinctively distanced herself from aboriginal culture. Her blokey husband Fergus is more receptive to tradition, but he still assumes she suffers from an acute form of post-partum psychosis.

To suggest Bell’s use of the Moogai as a metaphor for racist Australian policies towards the Aboriginal population is heavy-handed would be an understatement. Alas, The Moogai is definitely the sort of film where the message comes first and everything else is secondary.

That is a shame, because the Moogai is creepy monster that taps into universal fears of childhood boogeymen, regardless of viewers’ cultural backgrounds. Indeed, Bell displays sound instincts when it comes to deciding how much of the monster to show throughout the film.

The Woman in the Yard, Opening in Brazil

Garden gnomes will not look like such eye-sores after a day of staring at her. Unfortunately, there is nothing kitschy about the veiled woman regally sitting in her chair, who appeared in front of Ramona’s house one morning. Ominously, she seems to get closer and closer without visibly moving. Understandably, she quite alarms Ramona’s two children, especially since the grieving widow might have a pretty good notion as to why she is there—and it isn’t good. Regardless, the figure in black won’t be leaving anytime soon in Jaume Collet-Serra’s Blumhouse produced The Woman in the Yard, which opens in its final major international market, Brazil (or rather Brasil), this Thursday.

Ramona has not been coping well with  her husband David’s death, for especially painful reasons that will be revealed later, but astute viewers will have already guessed. Arguably, her teen son Tay (for Taylor) has largely been taking care of her and his little sister Annie, but inconveniently, that did not include paying the electric bill. With the power out, neither he nor his mother can recharge their phones, so the family finds themselves stuck in their isolated fixer-upper farmhouse, to face the woman alone.

For a while, she just gives cryptic, but spooky and vaguely threatening answers to Ramona’s questions. However, around late afternoon, she “reaching into” the house through the sunlight, to torment the family in a more “hands on” manner.

In fact, the first two acts are quite effective at establishing the atmosphere of mystery and dread. Collet-Serra and cinematographer Pawel Pogorzelski literally just filmed shadowy woman sitting on a chair, but they make her truly scary. Even though she remains chairbound nearly the entire film, Okwui Okpokwasili also hits the perfect note of eerie but hard-to-pin-down supernatural menace.

Yet, to the film’s great detriment, the ending has been widely considered both a considerable disappointment and highly divisive—with justifiable reason. Frankly, it is easy to imagine Sam Stefanak’s screenplay originally had a darker, edgier conclusion that was toned down with meat cleaver edits. As it currently stands (or rather sits), the film ends quite abruptly, leaving the audience with [perhaps unintended] unresolved ambiguities.

Dalia and the Red Book, an Argentinian Animated Sleeper

They are sort of like animated versions of Pirandello’s six characters in search of an author, but their Argentinian author, Adolfo is gone. They do not really want someone to write their ending for them anyway. They would prefer it if someone would simply take their dictation. That someone would be their author’s daughter, Dalia. However, her favorite character encourages her to write her own story in screenwriter-director David Bisbano’s Dalia and the Red Book, which releases tomorrow on VOD.

Dalia keeps insisting to her mother she does not want to be a writer. However, her mom can recognize talent. After all, she was Adolfo’s editor. Unfortunately, it was not full-time work, because her dad took his sweet time with every short story he released and he never finished what would have been his first novel.

That is where Dalia comes in. When she discovers the notebook in which Adolfo wrote his unfinished narrative, it reawakens the fictional, but very real otherworld. Wolf and her accomplices want an ending, wherein they emerge triumphant. However, Goat arrives just in time to rescue her. He happened to be the character Dalia created, but he has taken on new traits over time, like his aviator goggles.

The now stylish Goat must escort her back to her world before time runs out on Adolfo’s old pocket watch. It would be helpful towards that goal if she could finally write an ending, but Dalia has always struggled to conclude her stories.

It is odd that this film largely flew under the festival radar, because the hybrid 3D/2D/stop-motion animation is impressively immersive and the story celebrates the power of creativity in ways that should resonate with animation fans. There are also several revelations that hold a good deal of psychological and archetypal meaning, so they seem fitting and appropriate in the context of the film.

Daydreamers: Vampires in Vietnam

The rules for these vampires will sound familiar. Sunlight and fire are sure ways to kill them. They are also vulnerable to silver, but its best to aim for the heart. Of course, once you are a vampire there is no going back—except Nhat’s faction believes they can change back, through sheer discipline and alternate blood sources. However, his brother Marco’s clan thinks differently and hunts accordingly. They also happen to be the better looking vampires in Timothy Linh Bui’s Daydreamers, which is now playing in very limited theaters.

Nhat “lives” cooperatively with the “House Boat” vampires, led by Vy, who aspires to follow the example of a folkloric monk, who cured his vampirism with a diet of rat blood and will power. According to the legend, it took him more than a few centuries, which leaves plenty of time for Nhat’s fellow vampires to succumb to their hunger.

Marco is the lover of Trieu, the Vampire queen of Ho Chi Minh City. They are definitely vampires in the hedonistic Anne Rice tradition. Nhat’s vampires scrupulously observe the ancient vampire rule: “kill no human,” which Trieu’s vampires corrupted into “leave no witnesses.” Despite their differences, Nhat is initially happy to reconnect with Marco. However, he inadvertently reveals himself to the mortal Ha, during their celebratory clubbing. For Marco and Trieu, this problem is easily solved. However, Nhat becomes Ha’s protector instead.

The basic story, credited to Bui and Doan Si Nguuyen, incorporates a lot of familiar vampire terrain, with amble precedent in the Lestat and Underworld franchises. However, Daydreamers’ vampire backstory, including the undead flight from Europe to Indochina and the legend of the monk, gives it a richer texture. The exotic Vietnamese setting also helps distinguish the film from its legion of competitors. In fact, the tone shares a kinship with some of Joko Anwar’s creepier Indonesian horror films.

Two to One: Economic Lessons for the Old GDR

This based on-fact caper was undeniably inflationary and it necessarily involved stealing from the government. Yet, the perpetrators consider it a victimless crime. In fact, these Est Germans think of themselves as victims of Germany’s reunification. In some sense they are not wrong, but they might be blaming the wrong villains in director-screenwriter Natja Brunckhorst’s Two to One, which just opened in the UK.

All the Reunification agreements have been negotiated, including the former East Germany’s adoption of the Western Mark. The deadline for former East Germans to convert their financial holdings is fast approaching, but Maren and her neighbors converted their funds almost immediately. Of course, she and her partner Robert are fascinated by his uncle Markowski’s description of the resulting mountains of old obsolete money piled in the underground vaults where he works as a security guard. On a lark, the three pull off what they consider a pointless caper, making off with several duffle bags full of useless cash—or so they thought.

The next day, they are stunned to hear one of the opportunistic traveling salesmen from the West assures Maren and Robert he would be delighted to accept any unused East German Marks they might have lying around—so, sure they will buy a microwave. In fact, they will take whatever his has in his car and they might buy even more if he comes back tomorrow.

Obviously, every West German salesman quickly descends on their apartment complex. With the help of Volker, Maren’s recently returned ex, they organize the entire building into an army of small appliance consumers. They even include cranky old Lunkewitz, so everyone is involved and nobody snitches. Volker becomes their chief operations officer, despite the awkwardness of their shared history—especially since Volker wants a relationship with Dini, the biological daughter Robert raised as his own.

Brunckhorst maintains a distinctively bittersweet vibe throughout Two to One. There is a good deal of humor, but it also expresses the sadness experienced by a community forced to confront the deception and corruption of the system they bought into. Eventually, Robert and Volker start recruiting returning GDR diplomats to convert old currency on their behalf, because they were granted extended deadlines. Yet, they are disgusted by the Commuunists’ grotesque venality. Most of their neighbors swapped 500 East German Marks, but the slimy Ambassador Kulitzka believes he can safely exchange 500,000 without attracting suspicion.

Indeed, the ethics of Two to One grow increasingly complex. While it starts out lampooning Western commercialism, it ultimately indicts the hypocrisy and the exploitation of the supposedly “good old” Socialist system.

Words of War: The Anna Politkovskaya Story

October 7^th might be the most evil date in the calendar. Obviously, it has become infamous for the Hamas’s horrific 2023 terror attacks. Furthermore, in 2006, independent Russian journalist Anna Politkovskaya was ruthlessly gunned down, in a blatantly politically motivated assassination, on October 7^th—a date possibly selected as a “birthday gift” for Putin, who was indeed born on that very date. It was a tragedy, an outrage, and a precursor of worse atrocities to come. Politskaya’s idea of journalism was telling the truth, without fear or favor. Not surprisingly, that incurred the Putin regime’s wrath, as viewers witness in James Strong’s biographical drama, Words of War, which opens today in New York.

Politkovskaya wrote for Novaya Gazeta, Russia’s only editorially independent newspaper, edited by Dmitry Muratov, a co-recipient of the Nobel Peace Prize in 2021. Muratov is a muckraker at heart, but even he worries about the risks Politkovskaya takes. Frequently reporting from the battlefields of Russia’s dirty war in Chechnya, she earns the Chechens’ trust revealing Russian war crimes. She also earns Russian military’s hostility and several beatings.

Her family is not necessarily thrilled with her new notoriety, especially her son Ilya. Her semi-estranged husband Alexander somewhat resents seeing her journalistic prestige eclipsing his own. Yet, he makes a point of recording the death threats she receives, which becomes almost a full-time job. Thanks to the credibility she established, the Chechen militia hostage-takers requested her as a mediator during the Moscow Theater Siege, so she saw first-hand how the Russian police killed 132 innocent civilians through their use of an opioid-derived chemical agent.

The film begins with the first attempt on Politkovskaya’s life, an airliner poisoning that eerily parallels the 2020 attempted assassination of Alexei Navalny, and then rewinds to show the why’s and how’s. Frankly, it really starts with a bang, because her escape from the compromised hospital, engineered by Muratov and her grown children, Ilya and Vera, is a true white-knuckle sequence.

It is also worth noting Words of War never indulges in hagiography. As portrayed by the aptly cast Maxine Peake, Politkovskaya is often difficult, but always acutely human. She is also more right than wrong, at least on the big-picture issues.

If you don’t know how it ends, then the Kremlin would like to commend you on your choice of news sources. For the rest of us who understand what is coming, it still lands as a gut-punch, because it is so cold and cruel. We can’t say we weren’t warned. What happened to Politkovskaya happened to Navalny and the war crimes committed in Chechnya were repeated in Ukraine.

Holy Night: Demon Hunters, Starring Don Lee

He is an exorcist who relies on his bare fists. When the devil needs a good butt-kicking, who you gonna call? Don Lee (Ma Dong-seok), that’s who. Technically, Bow’s associate Sharon does all the spiritual casting out of demons, but he is the one who holds off the hordes of satanic mortal followers. Frighteningly, business is brisk in Lim Dae-hee’s Holy Night: Demon Hunters, which opens Friday in theaters.

Ominously, the mortal “Worshippers” have recently sacrificed quite a few innocents under the direction of the shadowy “Archbishop.” Clearly, they are preparing something big. Bow fears it involves the unseen Joseph (seriously guys?), his fellow orphan, who was also “blessed” with elevated mojo, but gave himself over to the evil one.

Determined to avenge the nuns and orphans Joseph murdered, Bow dedicated his life to demon-fighting, with the help of his associates, Sharon and Kim Gun, two intended sacrifices he rescued. Sharon has the ability to operate on higher spiritual planes, but each exorcism takes a painful toll on her, physically and emotionally.

Young Eun-soo is an especially difficult case. She does not lack for good medical care, since her guardian older sister Jung-won is a neuro-psychiatrist. However, being a sensitive orphan makes Eun-soo particularly vulnerable to possession. In fact, the demon has dug in so deeply, Bow’s team must return to the scene of the crime, the sisters’ new home, where something very sinister is going on.

It could very well be that Lim and Lee learned an important lesson from Schwarzenegger’s only horror movie, End of Days. It is not a film that has a lot of haters, but by the same token, few really embraced it either. For his fans, it just doesn’t feel like a Schwarzenegger movie. In contrast, Holy Night is a Don Lee movie, through and through. We often see him hitting Worshippers so hard they literally fly through the air. He dishes out to the satanists like they are gangsters in his Beast Cop/Roundup franchise.

I Know Catherine, the Log Lady—Obviously from Twin Peaks

She was the Oracle of Twin Peaks. The show wouldn’t be the same without her or David Lynch. Sadly and strangely, the 2015 return almost happened without either of them. Wisely, Showtime came to their senses and brought Lynch back on-board after previously deciding to proceed without him. There is no way Lynch would have left out his old friend Catherine Coulson, a.k.a. the Log Lady, but accommodations had to be made for her failing health. Friends and fellow cast-members pay tribute to Coulson in Richard Green’s documentary, I Know Catherine, the Log Lady, which has several special screenings starting today in New York.

Eraserhead started her long, close association with Lynch, even though her scenes were cut from the film. Instead, she played key roles behind the camera, which turned into an unlikely career for the academically trained thesp, who notably served as Eraserhead cinematographer Frederick Elmes’ focus puller on Star Trek 2: The Wrath of Khan.

Coulson also happened to be married to Jack Nance, the lead on Eraserhead, but that marriage would not last. Perhaps ill-advisedly, Green (who played the Magician in Mulholland Drive) spends a lot of time on Coulson’s hippy early days in the 1960s, perhaps not realizing the extent to which he alienates the children of Vietnam vets and Vietnamese “Boat People” refugees, but the Twin Peaks sequences are redemptive.

There is indeed extensive footage of Lynch, Kyle MacLachlan, and Michael Horse. The latter might not have had the most PR at the height of the show’s success, his character had a special rapport with the Log Lady, so his presence is quite fitting. However, the three cast-members who graced the cover of Rolling Stone are absent and unaccounted for.

Of course, Nance (Pete Martell in Twin Peaks) only appears in archival footage, since he passed away in 1996. Green also documented his life in the film I Don’t Know Jack. Regardless, colleagues and fans all explain how Coulson was the glue that held the Twin Peaks community together during the wilderness years. Consequently, even casual fans will get choked up when the second unit crew describes Coulson’s grit and grace filming her scenes for the revival series, shortly before her death.

The Children of October 7, in The Epoch Times

THE CHILDREN OF OCTOBER 7 is a short but devastating documentary that collects the testimony of shockingly young survivors of the Hamas terror attacks. Intended for the tiktok generation, it is hosted by influencer Montana Tucker, who show tremendous sensitivity helping the traumatized youths bear witness to the horrors they want the world to recognize. EPOCH TIMES review up here.

Carême, on Apple TV+

Marie-Antoine Careme is considered the first celebrity chef, who greatly shaped French cuisine as we still know it with his recipes for the so-called “mother sauces.” During the aftermath of the French Revolution, Careme was also one of the first chefs who had to worry about getting “chopped.” Whether he likes it or not, the culinary prodigy caters to some of France’s most powerful leaders, even including Emperor Shorty, in co-creators Ian Kelly & Davide Serino’s eight-episode Carême, which premieres today on Apple TV+.

Careme was never particularly political, but his mentor and adopted father Sylvain Bailly was a little too free with his ant-Bonaparte sentiments. As the cops drag Bailly off, he urges Careme to seek out Prince Talleyrand, the Machiavellian foreign minister and sleazy Clark Clifford-like behind-the-scenes power broker.

Unfortunately, seeking Talleyrand’s help is like jumping out of the frying pan into the fire. Reluctantly agreeing to be Talleyrand’s spy in the Tuilieries, Careme steals Napoleon’s itinerary, which the old schemer uses the stage a false flag assassination attempt that he conveniently foils. Consequently, the deeply compromised Careme finds himself at Talleyrand’s mercy, especially with Minister of Police Joseph Fouche connecting the dots.

Fouche represents a dangerous choice of enemies. He is an unrepentant Jacobin, who literally sent thousands of his countrymen to their death. Fouche’s political allegiance might have switched to Napoleon (ostensibly, much like Talleyrand in that respect), but his true loyalty is to the guillotine. Indeed, it is important to remember the Jacobin’s blood-thirsty authoritarianism laid the foundation on which modern socialism was built.

Careme would rather just cook, but he must navigate Talleyrand’s feud with Fouche. Of course, he cannot trust either, as he quickly figures out. At least Henrietta, the maid serving Talleyrand’s consort, Catherine Grand. has her charms. Agathe, Careme’s chief deputy in the kitchen, also finds him quite interesting too, but it is not clear whether the brilliant but distracted chef notices.

Although based on Kelly’s nonfiction book, the series appears to use a healthy amount of artistic license. Fortunately, it results in some intriguing drama. The bounteous secret alliances and double-crosses are all quite entertaining. Indeed, it is all quite French—as in the France of boudoirs, but not excessively so. In terms of explicitness, Careme probably lands somewhere between NY Blue and vintage HBO.

Maybe Careme’s food really was delicious, but we’re all beater off eating in an era when chefs never double-dip their tasting spoons. Regardless, Benjamin Voisin’s Careme really isn’t the star, even though he is the title character and has the most screentime. Instead, Jeremie Renier takes complete ownership of the series with his wonderfully sly and devilishly charismatic performance as slippery old Talleyrand.

The Last Spark of Hope

Arthur is not as nurturing as the android grandma in Ray Bradbury’s “I Sing the Body Electric!” Not even close. To be fair, that was never his intended function. He is a patrol robot, who was deployed during the “climate wars.” Those wars are over and everyone lost. After a little makeshift reprogramming, Eva’s now presumed dead father left Arthur to look after her. Unfortunately, Arthur is downright “robotic” when it comes to following his directives. Ironically, that endangers Eva in director-screenwriter Piotr Biedron’s The Last Spark of Hope, which releasees today on VOD.

Those who could, bugged out on spaceships bound for nowhere. Eva is relatively lucky among those who remained. Her mountain-top camp remains higher than he worst of the toxic atmosphere. Despite the risks, Eva most regularly ventures down in search of supplies. One day, she returns home after Arthur’s monthly password has already changed. Awkwardly, the password list is inside, but Arthur will not let her enter without the password. There is nothing funny about this Catch-22 for Eva, because without the water inside, she dies.

In a way, Last Spark is a very zeitgeisty film, but while most artificial intelligence thrillers worry about AI’s taking too much initiative, Arthur is dangerous because he is so blinkered by his rules and procedures. Arthur’s visual design is also quite shrewd. He looks like one of broken down robots the Jawas were hawking in the original Star Wars, but the obvious mileage makes his unreliableness quite believable.

Of course, some viewers might well ask how Eva could lose sight of something as important as her killer robot’s passwords. That is a very Gen-X attitude, reflecting an instinctive distrust of technology. Eva is several generations younger than Gen-Z. Presumably, she grew up with very different attitudes towards tech, despite witnessing the horrors of robotic war.

Project MKHEXE, on Screambox

Most of the conspiracy theories involving the CIA are complete nonsense. Sadly, they have proved so bad at keeping their secrets, most of the crazy stuff they get blamed for would have been exposed long ago by “whistle-blowers” or deep-cover moles. After all, we know all about Project MK Ultra. MKEXE is sort of like that embarrassing project cranked up to eleven. Yet, somehow, the CIA kept this one secret. Apparently, they had a lot of help from a shadowy someone or something in director-screenwriter Gerald Robert Waddell’s Project MKHEXE, which premieres today on Screambox.

“Freelance” photographer-filmmaker Tim Wilson was always the unstable one. That is why he took his younger brother Sean’s suicide so hard. Compounding the guilt, he ignored his brother’s bizarrely unhinged final call the night he died. Hoping to make sense of it all, he unlocks Sean’s fun and steps through the looking glass, into his conspiracy theory obsessions. He seemed to be researching MKEXE, which was apparently another mind-control experiment, but with almost supernatural overtones.

Whatever it is, it covers its tracks. In fact, as soon as the Brother Tim starts cataloging Brother Sean’s evidence, it mysteriously disappears. Even the tormenting voice message deletes itself. It sounds crazy, but Tim’s not-quite girlfriend Nicole saw enough to agree to help his brother investigate further—or maybe she is just prospecting for a good story. Regardless, their resulting “documentary” became a notoriously lost item of internet lore, somehow preserved here for your viewing pleasure, according to Waddell’s found footage gimmick.

In a way, MKHEXE represents an unusually effective found footage film, but not because it is scary. Frankly, this is a profoundly sad film that illustrates the destructive power of the obsessive conspiratorial mindset. It also viscerally shows how tragedy and trauma can poison a family. Waddell presents a highly distinctive vision, but it is not an enjoyable viewing experience. It might just drive you to drink.

Nevertheless, Jennifer Lynn O’Hara and Dwayne Tarver are absolutely devastating as the brothers’ long-suffering parents. They are so believable and realistically down-to-earth, it is painful to watch them. Ignacyo Matynia and Will Jandro have plenty of good freak-outs as the brothers, but they do not connect emotionally the way their on-screen parents do.

Pink Floyd Live at Pompeii MCMLXXII, in IMAX

Unfortunately, David Gilmour announced his retirement from public performance after the “Luck and Strange” tour. Of course there was no-way, no-how he would ever share the stage again with Roger Waters, who now appears in hate rallies instead of concerts. From now on, this film will be the closest many fans will get to experiencing a Pink Floyd concert, especially if they see it in IMAX. Recorded before the release of The Dark Side of the Moon, a more balanced, less Waters-centric band was captured for posterity in Adrian Maben’s Pink Floyd Live at Pompeii MCMLXXII, which is now playing in theaters.

Ironically, Pink Floyd never thought much of this film in any of its various cuts (this is the longest one yet, at 92 minutes). However, it sustained their fans for years, often screening at a time their live shows were relatively limited, especially internationally. While it lacked the extravagant lights and spectacle their live shows became famous for, the surreal setting of the ancient Pompei amphitheater perfectly suits the band’s aesthetic. Likewise, the band looks extremely Floydish strolling through Pompeii’s geothermal steam, as they explore the ancient site.

The Wall came ten years later, so this film is free of its grimness. In some ways, Nick Mason emerges as the star at Pompeii. His deeply resonant drums sound primal and even otherworldly. The opening and closing “Echoes Part 1” and “Part 2” have a vibe reminiscent of the Grateful Dead’s spacey extended jams.

Floyd sounds very Floyd on “Careful with that Axe, Eugene,” “A Saucerful of Secrets,” and “One of These Days,” but they still have an extra trippiness that seems inspired by the location. Maben augmented the later cuts with footage shot in the storied Abbey Road studio, where the band had recently finished their defining Dark Side album. However, for the benefit of the cameras, the band pretends to return for some last-minute touches.

Weirdly, some of Maben’s candid footage became the stuff of band lore, like Mason asking for apple pie “without the crust.” Perhaps the funniest soundbite is their denial Pink Floyd is a “drug” band. Okay fine, now tell that to every stoner ever. On a more serious note, when the band discusses their groundbreaking use of synthesizers, specifically the notion they consciously decide how to use the instruments as a tool rather than letting the technology control how they make music, it eerily parallels similar debates regarding AI today.

Yokohama BJ Blues, on OVID.tv

You know BJ must be a noir kind of guy, since he is a blues singing detective. Frankly, he is more of a blues-rocker than blues singer. He is not much of a detective either, but he keeps pursuing his best friend’s murderer even though it clearly involves the local crime syndicate in Eiichi Kudo’s Yokohama BJ Blues, which is now streaming on OVID.tv.

BJ had must tread lightly investigating his latest case. Akira Kondo’s mother hired him to find her missing son. Unfortunately, the boss of “The Family” “recruited” Kondo to be his “companion,” whether the young man likes it or not. There is little BJ can do, but at least he steals all the toilet paper from the boss’s bathroom on his way out.

While BJ avoids direct conflict with the Family, his friend, Det. Muku, made too many compromises. Facing imminent arrest for corruption, Muku hopes to bust an upcoming drug shipment to further bolster the plea deal he is already negotiating. Unfortunately, he is shot while meeting BJ. Despite a lack of forensic evidence, Muku’s thuggish partner Beniya tries to pin the murder on BJ.

Reportedly, star Yusaku Matsuda was inspired by trailers for Friedkin’s Cruising, which is highly believable given the tone of the final film. In fact, it is a miracle the cancel crowd has yet to attack Yokohama BJ Blues for being “problematic.” However, real people will appreciate the way Kudo makes Yokohama’a seamy red-light district look grimy and dangerous, as it surely was in 1981.

Matsuda, who was then at the height of his popularity as the star TV detective series, rather defiantly plays against type, turning BJ into a decidedly anti-heroic and thoroughly degenerate gumshoe. Koji Tanaka adds a tragic dimension to the film as the much-abused Kondo, who secretly befriends BJ.

Where God is not, on OVID.tv

They were exiled from Iran, but part of them will probably always remain in the notorious Evin and Ghezel Hesar prisons. Indeed, Mazyar Ebrahimi lives with the chronic pain constantly reminding him of the torture he endured there. Ebrahimi and two fellow survivors recreate the Iranian political prisoner experience for filmmaker Mehran Tamadon in Where God is not, which is now streaming on OVID.tv.

Ebrahimi had a video supply company, who was unjustly denounced, mostly likely by a business rival. When the torturers finished with him, he had confessed to the assassinations of several nuclear scientists. Absurdly, most of the details were wrong, because his “interrogators” force-fed him inaccurate information. For Tamadon’s benefit, Ebrahimi recreates his Stalinist-style televised confessions. He also transforms a bed in the abandoned Parisian factory serving as Tamadon’s makeshift studio, into a replica of the torture gurney his tormentors worked him over on. Yet, the re-enactment is too painful for Ebrahimi, even though Tamadon takes his place as the victim. Finding himself in his torturer’s position literally makes Ebrahimi sick to his stomach.

Although Ebrahimi is probably the least known internationally of Tamadon’s participants, his testimony is by far the most powerful. However, the filming process might have been the most difficult Homa Kahlor. Her memoir exposed the systemic abuse and grossly overcrowded conditions in Ghezel Hesar, but she clearly blames herself for helplessly standing-by, as she witnesses horrible acts of cruelty, while she served as an inmate-trustee.

Arguably, Iranian journalist Taghi Rahmani is the most famous veteran of Iranian prisons and Tamadon’s interview subject running the greatest risks, since his wife, 2023 Nobel Peace Prize recipient Narges Mohammadi, still remains behind bars. Dubbed “Iran’s mostly frequently jailed journalist” by Reporters Without Borders, he might also hold the record for incarceration within the film, with well over twelve years. Nevertheless, Rahmani yearns to return, because Iran is his home.