Before Michael Mak’s Sex And Zen became a cult favourite in the ’90s, there was Ho Fan’s Yu Pui Tsuen (The Carnal Prayer Mat, 1987). But without sex bomb Amy Yip, coarse humour or lesbian love affairs, Yu Pui Tsuen had to rely on the nudity and sex from his cast of relative unknowns to save the day. When a young man dreams that he drowns after a night of carnal passion, he asks a buddhist monk to translate the experience for him. The monk replies that the dream is a warning not to indulge the pleasures of the flesh to excess, but the man ignores his advice, marrying a virgin and making love to her constantly. However, after several torrid affairs, the man begins to realise the sagacity of the monk's warning.
The most divisive character in Multiverse of Madness is undoubtedly Wanda Maximoff. Is she good or evil? Is she "unlikeable?" I'm tired of the debate. I love Wanda because she's for us—she's for the women.
In The Women and the Murderer, directors Mona Achache and Patricia Tourancheau center women—the very demographic true crime is designed to appeal to.
Him is visually stunning—all concrete cathedrals and bone-rattling impact shots that look like a nightmare highlight reel. Marlon Wayans is magnetic as this legendary quarterback who's basically selling salvation with a smile that never quite reaches his eyes. But the story keeps running in circles: more tests, more cryptic pep talks, more ritualistic drills. The sports-as-religion metaphor beats you over the head when subtlety would've been more effective. The middle drags, and that finale chooses spectacle over substance. It's undeniably stylish, but left me cold. Also worth noting: despite the Monkeypaw connection, this isn't actually a Jordan Peele film—he didn't write or direct.
I was able to watch the gleefully mesmerizing Disney remake that was Robert Zemeckis’ Pinocchio. I was enthralled by Zemeckis’ iteration.
The trouble with Yara (2021) is that in its attempt to tell the whole story, it struggles to tell a consistently engaging story.
Few movies deal with aging (particularly aging women) with as much compassion as Relic does. Yet it’s not sickly sweet and not a soapbox rant against ageism. Relic simply is, allowing the horror to seep in quietly and carefully.
