France replaces Hollywood as our go-to cinema.
Now that France is in turmoil, its chickens-come-home-to-roost riots so like our own instability, it’s fitting that the Midyear Reckoning is primarily of French movies. The prospect of Western civilization hanging by a thread is strongly suggested by this year’s French imports, which echo the cultural confusions tearing the U.S. apart except that French filmmakers deal with those social and personal issues without falling back on partisan talking points.
If the shrill childishness of The Super Mario Bros. Movie, Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 3, Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse, and The Little Mermaid is the best Hollywood can offer, no wonder France has become the go-to spot for cinema.
Fact is, as South Korea’s Oscar win for Parasite indicated, Hollywood cinema has closed in on itself. Foreign films (mostly from France) bring us back to impartial, rational, humanist awareness. Here’s an alphabetical survey of the year’s most interesting films thus far:
Asteroid City
Wes Anderson’s Fifties period film evokes the era when America was scared yet optimistic, creative, and happy to put faith in its children. It’s quirky, subjective, and recognizable.
Adam Saunders indulges his own liberalism, but Leslie Uggams sharpens his critique. A caper movie that gently mocks interracial alliance and the Black Lives Matter grift.
François Ozon salutes the nuclear family in a life-and-death crisis that also honors the individuality of a father and his daughter (André Dussollier, Sophie Marceau), who are superficially at odds. A profoundly moving study of love, acceptance, and mortality.
Zhang Yimou’s color-coded patriotic puzzle reveals how a conflicted citizenry proceeds toward nationalism and pride. It’s an epic poetic blockbuster and a warning.
Éric Gravel directs Laure Calamy, France’s Everywoman, in a straightforward look at the personal stress of Parisians enduring public rebellion. Its working-class sensitivity transcends personal-is-political clichés.
Indiana Jones and the Dial of Destiny
James Mangold mangles Spielberg’s foolproof legacy series, reducing American heroism to unexceptionalism. Less intriguing than a John Wick movie.
Chad Stahelski and Keanu Reeves redeem the multiverse idea by unleashing the pent-up violence of globalist frustration. It’s political slapstick — funny, kinetic, alarming.
Alexandre O. Philippe confronts what cinema means today. The movie is a tribute to not only David Lynch’s art but the lost art of interpretation. Observations from Karyn Kusama and David Lowery prove that some filmmakers are more thoughtful than others.
Neil Jordan reboots Raymond Chandler’s detective (played by Liam Neeson) to resurrect the moral outrage missing from today’s popular culture. Its period setting contains contemporary heartache. Double-bill this with Asteroid City.
Alain Guiraudie fulfills the promise Godard first saw in him. This surrealistic tale of Continental sexual desire and the West’s political weakness is also prophetic. (“That’s France for you. We wait and do nothing.”)
Abel Ferrara turns expat only to miscast Shia LaBeouf in a biopic of Francesco Forgione. It misinterprets America’s current spiritual failing while misrepresenting 20th-century Italy’s religious, political, and cinematic history.
Alice Diop’s true-life infanticide trial drama repeats the same guilt thesis found in American liberal race movies, but her female martyrs (Guslagie Malanda and Kayije Kagame) are more compelling than Hollywood actresses.
The Dardenne brothers’ latest Belgium-set tale of European colonial guilt expands on the idea of brotherhood, with their usual quasi-documentary rigor.
João Pedro Rodrigues resists globalist pieties by being deliberately outrageous, surreal, and funny about a Portuguese aristocrat’s fascination with art history and the gender, race, and climate-change religions.
Christoph Honoré’s near-perfect family movie dares emotional, sexual frankness. The clan, movingly embodied by Paul Kircher, Erwan Kepoa Falé, Vincent Lacoste, and Juliette Binoche, ponders France’s survival — and our own. Think Asteroid City without theme-park trappings.