This article is part of NUFEC's ongoing coverage of IFFBoston 2015.


Evel Knievel was, in short, a lunatic.  He was a persistent, brave, inspirational Man Of The People with some serious anger issues, a sustained sense of paranoia, and an insatiable greed – but he was still an American hero.  With that in mind, director Daniel Junge brings the man’s life story to the screen in Being Evel.

As a documentary about a man whose self-invented profession was attempting ridiculous feats of death- and gravity-defiance, the film itself commits to a jump of its own straight from the 1970s to today and, for the most part, it sticks the landing.  The entire story is told through interviews mostly with people who knew Evel personally – friends, spouses, newscasters, the like – bolstered by news footage of his exploits both on the ramp and off.  Unfortunately, this unavoidably means an interviewee pool of lots (LOTS) of old white people, and it can get a bit confusing keeping track of who knew Evel how and when.  Junge seems to be aware of this, though, and reaches out to a slightly more contemporary audience with asides from current X-Gamers who were inspired by Evel as kids.  In a particularly well-placed section, Tony Hawk explains how, when he was growing up, “there was only one action figure, and it was Evel Knievel.”

For audiences who weren’t around to see his stunts on ABC’s Wide World of Sports, the film does a nice job of pacing out anecdotes in chronological order instead of grouping “stunts” and “personal life.”  Because nearly all the interviewees were acquaintances of Evel, the film does take on a very noticeable story arc that really plays up the mythology and character development from small-town con man to daredevil superstar to fame-spoiled megalomaniac.  Instead of feeling contrived – a film script format molded onto a real person’s life – the story seems convincing, and the fact that most of his friends and family really didn’t like him strikes a thoughtful balance between fanboy adoration and historical skepticism.

At its heart, the film is intent on presenting a faithful biography of Knievel the man rather than Knievel the character.  Most interesting is its discussion of how quickly he was corrupted by his rise to fame and wealth – how he began to seriously view himself the way his fans did: as an actual superhero.  The film comes uncomfortably close to absolution at its end, with a soft-focus wrap-up with his second wife and later friends talking about the lingering effects of innumerable concussions, incessant drinking, and a literal Guinness World Record of 433 broken bones.

If you’re a long-time fan of extreme sports, calculated showmanship, or Hot Rod, you shouldn’t need more than the title to sell you on this movie.  For others, you’ll still want to see a man who, when told by the federal government that he wasn’t allowed to jump the Grand Canyon, went out and bought a canyon of his own to jump.  You’ll want to see a man whose first wife comes to the realization that their marriage was technically a kidnapping.  You’ll want to see a man walk onto the Tonight Show stage in a zebra-print suit with a cape and diamond-studded cane.  You’ll want to see a man whose action-figure status was revoked when he broke his publicist’s arms with a baseball bat.  You’ll want to see a man who attempted to jump 13 buses, crashed, announced his retirement, and then decided to jump 14 buses five months later.  You’ll want to see a man who was, in short, a lunatic.

Grade: B+

This article is part of NUFEC's ongoing coverage of IFFBoston 2015.


Imagine you are an FBI informant conducting an active sting operation. (Please, suspend the many reasons why you would never do such a thing and just go with me momentarily.) You’re investigating Persons of Interest (POIs) who the FBI feels are a threat to the security of the USA; you’ve moved to the target location, changed your name, and are living in a safe house. You assume security and under-the-radar behavior are of utmost importance; you avoid public wifi for fear of data breaches, you drive different routes to the same location to avoid being followed, and you most definitely avoid telling anyone you know what it is you’re doing. That’s how those things work, right?

Apparently, no. T(error) follows an active FBI informant during an active counterterrorism sting operation in Pittsburgh. The documentarians show his face, his family, his community; they follow him as he sets up the new sting operation in Pittsburgh, show the location of his safe house, and even film the photos and locations of the POIs he’s investigating. The FBI has no idea this is happening. We hear the voice of his FBI supervisor, see the text messages they exchange, and sit in the car filming their meetings in parking lots from afar; while, again, they think no one knows what’s happening in this instance. The breadth of the film’s access is astounding: all I could think for most of the film was, How is the informant not worried about this unprecedented access into the FBI inner-workings? How is no one going to jail for this - or have they gone to jail since the film was released?

As it turns out, the access to the informant, while incredibly exciting, illuminates a terrifying system whereby the FBI targets people within the US who haven’t committed a crime and uses informants to get them to agree to commit one. Not to actually commit one; but to use language that alludes that they might. We meet one of the POI’s the informant is investigating, and we see the tactics used against him as he continually resists the attempts of others to pull him into a terrorism-promoting sphere.

This film begs the question: What is the price we pay for safety? What liberties are we relinquishing under the guise of safety? And, most importantly, who is watching the people who are watching us? It’s terrifying to contemplate the answers. Especially to the last question, as it appears no one is watching the organizations that have systematically gained vast amounts of power and influence especially in the criminal justice system… which feels anything but just, especially in this context.

While I’ve seen many fantastic films at this festival, this is the breakout; this is the film I want to watch again and again. Not because it’s happy or fun, but because it feels like a duty. Citizens should know about the atrocities being committed in our own communities; we cannot protect ourselves if we don’t.

Grade: A

T(error) will have it’s final screening at IFFBoston tonight at 9:30 at the Somerville Theatre. I cannot recommend that you attend it enough. Tickets can be found here or at the Somerville Theatre box office.

Hello again everyone! Here is Part Two of my Independent Film Festival Boston 2015 coverage, and I'm happy to report that this article includes some of the best films I've seen here so far.

H. is a story which takes place over the span of a week or so in the small town of Troy in upstate New York. It is divided into four parts which alternate between two different couples. One is an elderly retired couple named Helen and Roy (Robin Bartlett and Julian Gamble). Helen has a strange obsession with baby dolls, which she calls her “reborn angel” and treats as if it was alive, while Roy is a typical old-timer who just wants time to go drinking and fishing with his buddies. The second couple is a young pair of artists named Helen and Alex (Rebecca Dayan and Will Janowitz) who have their first child on the way. But soon strange things begin to happen in Troy after a meteor seemingly explodes above the town. People begin hearing strange noises, the physical properties of objects begin to change, and some people even begin to go missing.

H. is a hard film to classify, falling somewhere between mystery and drama with a sprinkling of horror. But the thing about this movie is that it’s a tease. All these strange things happen, and even if they are interesting or occasionally frightening in the moment, nothing is ever explained. Now, I’m fine with movies which want to keep their events ambiguous and mysterious, but if they do than those events and the people that interact with them need to be compelling enough to stand on their own. And that’s the thing: the events of H. are not interesting enough to stand on their own.

To be fair, if I had seen this before the terrifying and intense psychological horror They Look Like People the night before, than maybe I would have liked this film more. Compared to that, this movie seemed extremely tame and extremely slow. But even if I hadn’t, H. is a movie which aspires to the mysterious and ambiguous tradition of horror-mystery but sadly, to use the old expression, its reach exceeds its grasp.

Grade: C-

Wildlike opens with a young, troubled girl named Mackenzie (Ella Purnell) at the Seattle airport about to get on a plane to Juneau, Alaska. She’s being sent to live with her Uncle Ted (Joshua Leonard) as her mother, still reeling from the death of Mackenzie’s father, is incapable of caring for her. Unfortunately, where her mother was simply incapable Uncle Ted is abusive, and she soon runs away. After aimlessly wandering Juneau, stealing money and food, she hitches a ride on the Alaska Marine Highway in order to get out of the city. Afraid that her uncle is following her, Mackenzie keeps running and eventually ends up traveling over much of the state, initially alone but later with a man she meet through happenstance named Bart (Bruce Greenwood).

Combining a well-written plot with a cast of experienced actors, Wildlike is a touching drama film about two people who start as strangers and slowly come to care for one another. Both Ella Purnell and Bruce Greenwood are excellent in their respective roles, the former as the vulnerable young girl and the latter as the world-weary older man. Because of this and the phenomenal writing by writer/director Frank Hall Green both Mackenzie and Bart feel like real people, and as they get to know each other we as the audience do as well. By the end, the two of them are like old friends to us.

Not to mention the fact that the cinematography is absolutely gorgeous. The movie was filmed on-location in a variety of Alaska locales, most notably the pristine wilderness of Denali National Park. I enjoyed the film even further as I have a personal connection to Alaska and I have been to many of the same places that Mackenzie travels through. Even if you can tell that the cameras the movie was filmed on were not the highest quality ever, the raw natural beauty of the place makes up for it. Wildlike is a beautiful film, on both a visual and emotional level, and I await its full theatrical release so I can go and see it again.

Grade: A

DEATHGASM is the story of a teenager from New Zealand named Brodie (Milo Cawthorne). Brodie is a Metalhead. For those of you are unaware, a Metalhead is a die-hard fan of Heavy Metal music. After his mother is institutionalized, he is sent to live with his ultra-conservative uncle and aunt, who treat him poorly because they regard his favorite genre as “the devil’s music”. Brodie’s cousin David is a mean-spirited bully who uses his parent’s dislike of Brodie to justify beating him up. Ostracized at home and at school (since David is a popular jock), Brodie’s only friends in his new town are Dungeons and Dragons geeks Dion and Giles (Sam Berkley and Daniel Cresswell) and fellow Metalhead Zakk (James Blake). Feeling isolated, the group decides to vent their feelings by forming a Metal band called DEATHGASM (because as Zakk says, LOWERCASE IS FOR PUSSIES!!). This catches the attention of Brodie’s crush, a beautiful girl named Medina (Kimberley Crossman). But Brodie quickly finds that he has bigger things to worry about, as DEATHGASM’s newest song turns out to be an ancient satanic invocation. With the town overrun by demons, Brodie must use the power of Heavy Metal to save the day.

DEATHGASM is ridiculous, hilarious, extremely gory, and downright awesome. It’s a horror movie and splatter comedy based entirely around Heavy Metal music which does not take itself seriously in the slightest and runs entirely on sheer mayhem and absurd comedy. Featuring everything from literally satanic Metal music, a Dan Brown-style secret society intent on hunting down and murdering DEATHGASM, and Brodie and Zakk trying to kill demons with giant dildos, this is a movie which positively revels in its own insanity. The over-the-top gore and high level of genre self-awareness makes for a rollercoaster ride of violence, comedy, and awesome battles with evil demons. And of course, the movie has an awesome soundtrack with tons of brutal Metal music; the creators of the movie obviously have such a love for the music and it comes across beautifully in the movie.

And what makes all of this even better is that the movie is actually exceedingly well-made. The acting is very professional, with the actors giving it their all in even the most absurd scenes and clearly having a whole mess of fun while doing it. The writing is extremely clever, managing to be both play straight and make fun of the typical splatter movie tropes simultaneously. There’s even a little B-plot about Brodie and Medina’s blossoming romance which manages to both really cute and super Metal at the same time. And the special effects, while often intentionally cheesy, look really good, especially when Brodie and company kill demons in extremely bloody and… creative ways. Put everything together and you have a ludicrously fun horror-comedy which is simultaneously a love-letter to everything METAL. Trust me, after you watch this movie you’re going to want to go home and blast Metal music into your ears at the highest possible volume (which is exactly what I’m doing as I write this review). All in all, DEATHGASM is one of the funniest and most fun movies I’ve seen in quite a long time.

Grade: A+

Hey film lover type-people! I am also attending the 2015 edition of the Boston Independent Film Festival, along with fellow writer and editor Mary Tobin. I will be uploading one article for each day of the festival; here is my coverage of two films which were shown on Friday, April 24.

Alex (Adam Scott) and Emily (Taylor Schilling) have just moved to a new home in California with their young son. They are a loving couple and have a happy life but they have a few problems, such as their lackluster sex life. Alex also has mild social anxiety, and is very worried about having to make new friends in their new town. Therefore, he is very happy that when their family is at the park they are approached by a neighborhood man, also with a young son, who warmly introduces himself as Kurt (Jason Schwartzman). Kurt is incredibly affable and Alex and Emily soon agree to have dinner at his house that night. Once there, they meet Kurt’s beautiful French wife Charlotte (Judith Godrèche) and join their new friends in making merry. However, as the night grows longer and things become stranger, Alex and Emily begin to suspect that Kurt and Charlotte may not be as innocent and neighborly as they initially seemed.

The Overnight is an odd film. Funny, but odd. I suppose in terms of genre it’s closest to those awful British sex comedies from the seventies. If you haven’t figured it out yet, Kurt and his wife are swingers, and try very hard to convince Alex and Emily to join in their fun. I did have fun while watching it, and it does have a lot of pretty funny moments, mostly because the dialogue is very clever and well-written. There are some odd transitions where the tone fluctuates between scenes with amusing hijinks and scenes which are supposed to make Alex and Emily (and by extension, the viewer) uncomfortable.

When I saw this at the Somerville Theatre, it was in their massive theatre number one with a very large crowd. It was stretched all the way around the building in fact, I imagine because everyone had heard that Jason Schwartzman was in it. The crowd was really into the film, and riotously laughed through almost any scene. The Overnight is one of those films, I feel, that if I had seen it by myself I would have thought “meh” and probably have not liked it very much. But because of the crowd, I enjoyed it much more than I otherwise would have. If you and a few friends want to see an awful American sex comedy, by all means see this movie. Otherwise, I would say this one is a pass; there’s lot of stuff playing at IFFB that I would recommend higher than this. Unless of course you want to see Jason Schwartzman’s dick, in which case this movie will happily oblige.

Grade: B with a good group, otherwise C-

Christian (Evan Dumouchel) is just a regular guy: he gets up and goes to work every day, he works out at the gym (a habit developed during high school is dissuade bullies) and keeps trying to work up the courage to act on the crush he’s developed on his boss (Margaret Ying Drake). This is until one day when Wyatt (MacLeod Andrews), an old childhood friend, shows up on his doorstep completely out of the blue. Although Wyatt dodges most of the questions he asks about where he’s been and what he’s been doing, Christian takes him in since it seems like he doesn’t have anywhere else to go. As the two of them rekindle the friendship that had dwindled over the years, it soon becomes apparent that Wyatt is struggling with much more than the average millennial.

A chilling physiological horror, They Look Like People is a terrifying picture of what it feels like to struggle with schizophrenia. The writer and director, Perry Blackshear, was at the festival and conducted a Q&A after the screening concluded. He said that a several of his close friends and family had struggled with the disease, and he wanted to try to convey to audiences via the screen the terror they felt on a daily basis. They Look Like People is one of those slow-burn horrors which relies on subtlety and silence in order to build tension. And boy does it build tension, often to unbearable levels; by the end of the movie you start wanting it to explode into violence and action just to release tension, but it just continues its slow and steady pressure cooker.

The acting and writing is frequently uneven, with many scenes making it aware that both the director and actors are not terribly experienced. However, the scenes that are done well just shine; there’s one heart-touching scene where after deciding to go out to a bar, Christian and Wyatt just end up staying at home and doing the same silly things they did when they were in middle-school (BLOB WARS!!). Scenes like these humanize the characters to a much greater degree than is typically seen in horror movies. This adds to the film’s greatest strength: its realism. I walked out of the theatre thinking: “Jesus Christ, now I know what it’s like to have schizophrenia.”  This is scarier than any film about monsters, aliens, or serial killers, because these are demons that some people really do have to fight.

Grade: A-

This article is part of NUFEC’s ongoing coverage of the Independent Film Festival Boston.

LOST CONQUEST, as described by Director Mike Scholtz, “often feels like a low-rent, real-life Game of Thrones, if that sort of thing appeals to you.” That is appealing, but I assure you that it doesn’t feel much like Game of Thrones and–even if it had–that wouldn’t have kept me in my seat. The most exciting part of this film is, thankfully, the meatiest part: interviews with puzzlingly genuine, thoughtful, and warm people that respectfully held differing beliefs.

"With kindness comes naïveté. Courage becomes foolhardiness. And dedication has no reward. If you can't accept any of that, you are not fit to be a Magical Girl."

—Homura Akemi

Series at-a-glance:
Genres: Dark Fantasy, Horror, Magical Girl
Creators: Shinbo Akiyuki and Urobuchi Gen
Studio: Shaft
Length: 12 episodes and 1 film
Years: 2011
Highlights: The Powerpuff Girls meets H.P. Lovecraft

Before we talk about this series, we should talk about the subgenre of anime known as “Magical Girl” series. Both the characters and the genre itself are known in Japanese as mahou shoujo (literally “magical girl”). A magical girl is, as the name suggests, a young girl (usually between the ages of 10 and 16) who has certain magical abilities which both help and hinder her life. The subgenre descends, surprisingly, from the 1960s American sitcom Bewitched, which featured a witch named Samantha trying to live a normal life as a suburban housewife despite having magical powers.  The show turned out to be tremendously popular with Japanese teenage girls, and with various alterations the manga and anime industries absorbed the idea to create the magical girl subgenre.

The magical girl subgenre intersects with numerous other anime genres; most series are classified as a subset of more general fantasy, but others fall into the range of sitcoms, dramas, and occasionally even sci-fi. Magical girl series can range widely in content; many follow a similar plot as Bewitched, with its characters trying to live normal lives despite their powers. Other series, especially since the popular Magical Girl Lyrical Nanoha was released in 2003, have drifted in a more action-orientated direction, forming the “Magical Girl Warrior” style. Generally speaking though, magical girl series fall into the shoujo demographic (ie, aimed towards younger girls). As such, most of them tend to have characters who are dressed in frilly pink costumes, have some sort of cute animal sidekick, and fight using the powers of friendship and love; the kind of thing that most parents would be okay with having their little girls watching.

As I discussed in a previous article, I don’t really watch any shoujo anime because generally speaking characters dressed in frilly pink dresses and fighting with the powers of friendship and love don’t appeal to me very much. However, magical girl series frequently do have large periphery demographics of viewers who are not little girls. This is part of the reason why more action-orientated magical girl series have become popular in recent years. However, it wasn’t until 2011, with the release by Studio Shaft of Puella Magi Madoka Magica, that the genre was turned on its head so badly that it may never recover.

Kaname Madoka is an ordinary high school girl living in the futuristic metropolis of Mitakihara. She has a loving family and a best friend named Miki Sayaka. Her mundane life changes the day an unusual transfer student named Akemi Homura transfers into Madoka’s class; Homura acts as if she has met Madoka before, and the mystery is compounded by the fact the Madoka dreamed of Homura before meeting her. Later that day at the mall, Madoka and Sayaka run into Homura again, who is attacking a strange, furry creature. They rescue the bizarre (but cute) animal from Homura’s aggression, but are soon attacked themselves by horrifying monsters. In the nick of time they are rescued by an upperclassmen from their school, a girl named Tomoe Mami. She reveals herself and Homura to be Magical Girls, who use their powers to battle monsters named Witches which feed on and spread negative emotions. The creature they rescued, Kyubey, offers to make Madoka and Sayaka Magical Girls as well. Kyubey says that Madoka has more magical potential than any other girl he has ever met, and in exchange for fighting the witches he will grant her any wish she desires.

This sounds like a fairly ordinary premise for a fantasy series, and the show is fairly ordinary at first. This, combined with the show’s opening animation featuring Madoka’s silly hijinks as a Magical Girl with happy music playing in the background, might be enough to trick you into thinking this is a standard Magical Girl series. However, what on the surface appears to be a cute show for little girls about magic and the importance of friendship quickly reveals itself to be something very different. In reality, Puella Magi Madoka Magica is a dark, twisted tale of darkness, madness, and despair.

Much like Neon Genesis Evangelion did for mecha anime, Madoka Magica brutally deconstructs the magical girl genre, showing the logical consequences of all the tropes present in the genre. Yes, all of the teenage girls have wondrous magical powers. But in exchange for that power, they are forsworn to a life of conflict and violence, fighting monstrous entities which are quite literally incarnations of madness and despair capable of driving their friends and family to commit murder or suicide (the Witches themselves look like they were animated by Terry Gilliam while he was on a really bad acid trip). Yes, the girls get a wish granted in exchange for this, but there's nothing that says they have to wish for something positive. Even if they do wish for something positive, that wish may very well come back to bite them in ways they never intended. Yes, there is a cute, furry creature which grants them this power. But most of them never stop to ask why they are being granted this power, or if the cute creature has any ulterior motives. And when I say they have to fight witches, I mean that quite literally, with all the violence and blood and potential death that entails. Many of the characters die, often in gruesome and horrible ways.

It should be ominous to say that Puella Magi Madoka Magica was primarily inspired by the German epic Faust, about a man who tries to make a deal with the Devil in exchange for magical power (hint: it doesn’t end well for him in most versions of the tale). It should also be ominous to say that this series was written by Urobuchi Gen, the writer of Fate/Zero who has gained the nickname “Urobutcher” for his habit of brutally killing off his casts, and believe me, he earned his nickname for Madoka Magica. What makes this so twisted is how Urobuchi shows how, in reality, a happy magical girl series which runs on the power of friendship and magic would degenerate into a cosmic horror story which would have H.P. Lovecraft shaking in his boots.

For example, one of the main themes in Madoka Magica is how being a selfless heroine is not only impractical, it’s actually impossible. All of the characters are initially empowered by what seem like selfless, idealistic wishes. However, as time goes on, the series exposes how most of these wishes aren’t actually selfless at all, and how the cognitive dissonance between their perceived purity and actual selfishness only leads to greater despair. Even the wishes that are genuinely selfless only lead to greater pain in the end, as they backfire in ways that were never expected, leaving the girls bitter and broken. Other major themes include the high cost of hope and the inevitability of despair.

Puella Magi Madoka Magica was a massive commercial and critical success; never before had someone deconstructed the very concept of the magical girl series so completely. The show gained a huge following because of its combination of utter darkness, adorable girls with magical powers and cute outfits, and pervasive despair. The combination is bizarre and wonderfully perverse, creating a show which is depressing, cute, and downright horrifying all at the same time. If you can accept all of that, then maybe you are fit to be a magical girl. 

The Big Lebowski is one of my all-time favorites because it is just the weirdest, quirkiest movie I have ever seen. On paper, The Big Lebowski is a crime drama featuring the kidnapping of the trophy wife of a wealthy industrialist. However, this movie is really more of a black comedy following the inanities of a hippie out of time.

The Big Lebowski follows the travels and travails of Jeffrey Lebowski (Jeff Bridges) preferably known as “the Dude” (or Duder, or El Duderino if you're not into the whole brevity thing). The Dude is a lazy Californian hippie who really only loves three things: smoking weed, going bowling with his buddies, and drinking beers with his bros. The Dude’s rather peaceful lifestyle is interrupted one day when thugs break into his home, and begin destroying his property, demanding the ransom for his kidnapped wife Bunny (Tara Reid). The Dude, who is not married, soon realizes that he is in the middle of a huge mix up: the thugs were after the other Jeffrey Lebowski, the titular Big Lebowski, a multimillionaire and self-proclaimed business icon (David Huddleston). Furious over the loss of his rug to the thugs, the Dude marches over to Big Lebowski’s house to demand recompense. The Big Lebowski entrusts the Dude to deliver the ransom, and from there the Dude becomes embroiled in an unfortunate series of events that involves a gang of German nihilists, a pet marmot, and an anarcho-feminist memorably played by Julianne Moore.

What makes The Big Lebowski so hilarious and remarkable is not its plot but rather it’s amazing characters. The plot is actually rather non-cohesive, with the Dude just bumbling from one ridiculous situation to another, with very little direction. The Dude is the archetypical hippie who hates the “square community.” He seems to live an almost ascetic-like lifestyle, living in a very modest home with few belongings, performing tai chi in the mornings, and meditatively listening to whale calls while taking a bath. The Dude is joined by his friends, Walter Sobchak (John Goodman) and Donny Kerabatsos (Steve Buscemi). Walter is a Vietnam War veteran who manages to bring up the Vietnam War in nearly every conversation he participates in. Walter has a hot temper, yet is very book smart, able to extensively quote historical figures such as Lenin and religious texts such as the Talmud, and is a devout Jew, despite the fact that he was raised an Irish Catholic. Donny is the quietest member of the group who often unintentionally provokes Walter’s wrath by interrupting him. These three friends for an eccentric little group that makes its way through the ludicrous events in the movie.

The Big Lebowski is really a collection of vignettes, following a one crazy hippie through one of the strangest series of events ever put on film. The best part of the film is watching colorful characters react to crazy situations, such as a naked women flying on tightropes flinging paint on a canvas. Through it all the Dude is unfazed, keeping his undying sense of optimism for a calmer tomorrow. In an age of franchise, sequels and reboots, The Big Lebowski is a delightfully unique indie gem that should not be forgotten.

Grade: A+

Much of Clouds of Sils Maria takes place physically far from the land of celebrity gossip, tantrums, and stardom in the serene mountains; yet, it manages to intimately unpack the nature of celebrity and dissection thereof through the eyes of three very differing female perspectives (Juliette Binoche, Kristen Stewart, and Chloë Grace Moretz) and through expert direction of Olivier Assayas.

Maria Enders (Juliette Binoche) is a beloved middle-aged actress who just lost a life-long friend, for whom she credits her rise to fame; he cast her in a famous romantic lesbian drama play he wrote and directed 20 years ago when she was only 19. When she is soon after offered the part of the older woman in the play, whom she never identified with during the first run, Maria and her assistant, Valentine (Kristen Stewart), struggle with the implications. She also cautiously believes the play's director, who asserts that the young starlet person playing her first part, Jo-Ann Ellis (Chloë Grace Moretz), will take the role as seriously as she did.

In the information age of 20-somethings, admiration of a celebrity no longer stems from the celebrity's work; younger people often admire personal qualities of an actor or actress, which they then project upon any character that celebrity portrays. Of course, admiring personal qualities is nothing new to 40-somethings, but access to the breadth and depth of personality traits and pervasive media around celebrities is new. Seeing the many TMZ videos of Jo-Ann's arrests and her numerous under-the-influence videos, Valentine admires Jo-Ann's tenacity to "be herself" at such a young age in an obsessive culture. Jo-Ann's take on her constant surveillance by the press is more apathetic; she hates them but knows she can't get away. When Maria and Valentine see a sci-fi blockbuster starring Jo-Ann Ellis, Valentine sees a strong female character; Maria sees a silly action star in a film with little substance. Prior to the film, she knows only bits and pieces about Jo-Ann; she doubles over laughing when Valentine suggests that Jo-Ann's sci-fi character is anything more than a blockbuster-friendly, substance-less alien. Yet, afterwards Maria cannot resist looking up more information about Jo-Ann; her photos, her TMZ arrest videos, her under-the-influence interviews. All were available to her before, but until those around her pay more attention to the other celebrity than to her she will not care enough to look them up.

Their differing interpretations mirror the disagreement that develops around Maria's character in the play revival. Maria interprets the older woman as an enduringly sad, devoid of backbone, and struggling businesswoman; nothing like the virile, manipulative vixen she played in her teens. She knows the character only as she relates to the young character she played at 19. Valentine handles the logistical nightmare of Enders' celebrity schedule, but is more importantly looked on as a friend. Valentine sees the older character as much stronger and more vulnerable, countering Maria's interpretation with a renewed vision of strength and questioning what it means to have very different interpretations of the same script.

Kristen Stewart's presence is felt even when off-screen. Her confident strength and independence smolders on the screen, despite her job being to cater to another person's needs 24/7, and when she disappears that commitment feels missing. To be clear, Binoche is a revelation. Her frustration permeates every part of her being; she truly seems to feel everything from her gut to her voice to her limbs and if she is with Valentine she feels no hesitation to allow those feelings to gush from her. She is refreshingly candid in a way that doesn't feel overplayed; she is charming even to those she hates and manages to charm the audience as well, even as she struggles through her feelings of the play.

I was truly astounded at how much I liked this film. Despite the very odd directorial choices with certain scores, jump cuts, and other transitions, it often felt like a stage play. Still, the uncapped emotions, lack of score for most of scenes with dialogue, and ease of the camera's transitions between characters in a scene mimic the way one might watch a stage play. If you're interested in unpacking a bit more about celebrity interpretations, and how they differ among non-celebrities, older celebrities, and younger celebrities, this was one of the quickest two-hour films I've seen in a while.

B+