Joe List: I Hate Myself (2020)

Like Fourth of July fireworks, the film Honey Don’t is colorful and fun to look at, delivering many bangs (sex and guns!) for your buck before quietly fading out.

Dramatic Horror!!! Wait, what?? Did you say "dramatic horror"?? IS there such a thing?? I mean, TRULY. Well, if San Francisco-based, Pakistani-born independent filmmaker Dr. Hassan Zee and this film critic have anything to say about it, there IS such a beast as experienced through the director's newest feature film set to officially debut October 4th in the City by the Bay. Folks, indie film will always be a bastion of experimentation and originality, and this film for me fits that bill.

I'm bad, and that's good. I will never be good, and that's not bad. There's no one I'd rather be than me.

The Roses is a wickedly sharp marital warfare comedy that transforms domestic dysfunction into high art. Olivia Colman and Benedict Cumberbatch deliver powerhouse performances as a couple whose fairy-tale romance implodes when his architectural career collapses just as her culinary empire takes off. What makes Jay Roach's remake so devastatingly effective is its refusal to pick sides—both spouses are equally sympathetic and monstrous, wielding Tony McNamara's razor-sharp dialogue like weapons forged from shared intimacies. It's a film that dares you to laugh at relationship wreckage while forcing you to confront the uncomfortable truth that the line between passionate love and mutual destruction is terrifyingly thin.

These confines won’t really encourage you to read the film as a metaphor for the nerve-inducing experience we’ve all been through over the last year, however — and in the interest of maintaining your dignity, you probably shouldn’t. While the sociopolitical commentary may have worked for the similarly-themed Buried (2010), in which we find Ryan Reynolds on his own buried alive in the Middle East, but this futuristic take on the premise is best left as a piece of distracting entertainment. Nevertheless, the atmosphere is no less suffocating, literally and dramatically.

From its visually stunning opening credits, which show women dancing through a forest to musical rhythms that sound almost primal, to its quiet, heartbreaking final frame, Mona Fastvold’s historical rendering of the Shaker religious movement is an experience that will stay with me for a long time.