Tag: 2019 Reviews

Review: Innocent Witness

Autism in South Korea is not an easy topic to tackle. While the country has one of the more prevalent rates of diagnoses, numerous sources speak to the massive social stigma attached to the developmental disorder. INNOCENT WITNESS (증인) attempts to tackle this within the construct of a courtroom drama with surprisingly strong results.

Struggling lawyer Soon-Ho (Jung Woo-Sung) takes on a seemingly hopeless defence case of a woman accused of murdering an old man. The only witness to the crime is a Ji-Woo (Kim Hyang-Gi), a schoolgirl with autism. As the investigation continues, Soon-Ho has his assumptions tested and learns something about her condition in the process.

While the actual defence plot may leap over the bounds of believability, mostly because the defence case never feels like it is ever on terribly solid ground to begin with, the strength of Moon Ji-Won and Lee Han’s (A Melody to Remember) screenplay lays in the interplay between the two leads. The film is careful to take its time to study Ji-Woo’s intelligence and logical responses, along with her audio/visual sensitivities.

This is all supported by an excellent performance from the young actor Kim Hyang-Gi, who has most recently starred in a prominent role in the Along with the Gods series. Although Ji-Woo is portrayed as being on one of the more extreme ends of the spectrum, playing up the physicality of flat speech of the disorder, there is a studied subtlety to her performance that is exhibited in non-verbal responses to Soon-Ho’s questioning.

The final act is primarily a courtroom sequence that relies on some familiar tropes, and it’s here that the film comes closest to exploiting the disorder. Yet here the script repositions autism as a strength, exposing the unconscious prejudices on both sides of the argument. While some of this seems to suggest that humanity and the legal system can’t coexist, here the film is arguably at its most didactic.

INNOCENT WITNESS has been largely praised for its sensitive treatment of autism on screen, and this is because it has a point to be made. If the murder plot seems less than fleshed out, it’s because the real trial represents a microcosm of the public stigma that is still said to exist within the film’s native audience. Nevertheless, backed by impressive performances from the leads, this is still a film that doesn’t sacrifice its pointed message or its entertainment value.

2019 | South Korea | DIRECTOR: Lee Han | WRITERS: Moon Ji-Won, Lee Han | CAST: Jung Woo-Sung, Kim Hyang-Gi, Park Geun-Hyung, Yum Hye-Ran | DISTRIBUTOR: Korean Film Festival in Australia 2019 (AUS) | RUNNING TIME: 129 minutes | RELEASE DATE: 22 August – 12 September 2019 (KOFFIA)

August 28, 2019
Review: MAL-MO-E: The Secret Mission

There have been quite a few Korean films set during the Japanese occupation in the last few years, from The Age of Shadows to this year’s A Resistance. It is, after all, the 100^th anniversary of the 1^st March Independence Protests that underpin so much of Korea’s modern history. MAL-MO-E: THE SECRET MISSION (말모이) is about a very specific slice of that era and the importance of language to cultural identity.

The film opens in 1933, as a group smuggles the titular dictionary across the country. Flash forward to the 1940s, where Japanese occupiers have forbidden Koreans from speaking their own language. After ex-con Pan-Soo (Yoo Hae-Jin) tries to pick the wrong pocket, he becomes involved with Ryoo Jung-Hwan (Yoon Kye-Sang), a man who is secretly trying to publish a Korean dictionary with the Korean Language Society.

The plot sounds like it might be ripped straight from the pages of a Dan Brown novel, although the execution couldn’t be further from that. A low-key drama that about identity not conspiracy, the emphasis here is not on the individual moments of tension – although there are a number of these, especially in the final act – but on the vital importance of language to the notion of individual and national sovereignty.

“Words reflect the spirit,” we are repeatedly told, although writer/director Eom Yu-na doesn’t necessarily try to do anything outrageously twisty with them. Instead she uses the illiterate character of Pan-Soo to convey the transformative nature of literacy in one’s own language. Like her occasionally heavy-handed screenplay to A Taxi Driver, the non-believer slowly having his perceptions changed is core to the success of this representation.

Yoo Hae-Jin (The Battle: Roar to Victory, Intimate Strangers) is in his element here as the ostensible lead, a semi-comic performance that relies partly on his well-timed buffoonery and natural charm. Yoon Kye-sang is a foil as academic with a well-placed stick who learns the value of the common touch though Pan-Soo’s homespun aphorisms.

In 1942 there were 33 arrests and 2 deaths in custody related to the dictionary project. MAL-MO-E might not revolutionise the way we look at this era of Korean history, but it does show that revolutions don’t have to be large-scale to be impactful. Cinema fans should also enjoy some of the references to period films, with posters and clips peppered throughout. While Eom Yu-na may overstate the case a little, it’s nevertheless a broad brushstroke that should have you rushing out to do a masters in linguistics or archival practices.

2019 | South Korea | DIRECTOR: Eom Yu-na | WRITERS: Eom Yu-na | CAST: Yoo Hae-jin, Yoon Kye-sang | DISTRIBUTOR: Korean Film Festival in Australia 2019 (AUS) | RUNNING TIME: 135 minutes | RELEASE DATE: 22 August – 12 September 2019 (KOFFIA)

August 26, 2019
Review: Weathering with You

If Makoto Shinkai was already an anime hero for 5 Centimetres Per Second and Children Who Chase Lost Voices, then 2016’s crossover hit Your Name shot him into the stratosphere. Following one of the highest grossing anime films of all time is no mean feat, but WEATHERING WITH YOU (天気の子) is about no less a topic than changing the world.

Japan is going through a particularly rainy patch. Think: torrential 24/7. Teenage girl Hina Amano (voiced by Nana Mori, Tokyo Ghoul ‘S’) spots a patch of sunlight on the rooftop of a derelict building, and is transported to a sky world. Meanwhile, runaway Hodaka Morishima (newcomer Kotaro Daigo) arrives in Tokyo penniless, and their lives connect during a moment of kindness.

The grander narrative commences when Hodaka’s life starts looking up thanks to publisher Keisuke Suga (the legendary Shun Oguri), and Hodaka investigates the alleged ‘Sunshine Girl’ bringing literal light wherever she goes. Yet a scheme to make money reveals that all ‘magic’ has a price.

Shinkai’s original story is arguably one of his most complex and, at times, darkest to date. Much of the film deals with people living on the fringes, and the very real threat of homelessness, harm, and ‘club’ work that these vulnerable teenagers must face. This is magical realism with an emphasis on the latter, tackling issues of absentee parents, gun violence, and climate change within the broader framework.

Like Your Name, many of the locations were based on real places and the attention to detail shows. From the accurate neon-lit streets of Shinjuku to the wide shots of the Tokyo skyline, Shinkai and his animation team, including animation director Atsushi Tamura and art director Hiroshi Takiguchi, create a lived-in world that happens to cross over with ancient myths. They cut loose at key moments, whether it is the earth-bound magic of fireworks or those places where the real and unreal blur. It’s staggeringly beautiful in either place.

Masayoshi Tanaka’s character designs are grounded by the lead actors, who are both earnest and believable. The vocal range of emotion in Tsubasa Honda (Colour Me True), who plays Suga’s assistant Natsumi, is impressive and also hilarious at times. There’s also a great running gag with Hina’s little brother Nagi (Sakura Kiryū), who is so much of a ladies’ man that the older Hodaka calls him senpai. With connections to some of Shinkai’s other films, there are also two moments in the film where the (pleasingly full) cinema actually squealed in delight at the cameos.

What’s great about this film is that it follows many of the same tropes and basic structure of the filmmaker’s previous works – not to mention the music of Radwimps – but still feels fresh and immediate. Even with the elements of realism, and a tense Mexican standoff at the climax, the film is essentially about love and hope. WEATHERING WITH YOU might just be a contender for best animation of 2019.

2019 | Japan | DIRECTOR: Makoto Shinkai | WRITERS: Makoto Shinkai | CAST: Kotaro Daigo, Nana Mori, Shun Oguri, Tsubasa Honda, Sakura Kiryū| DISTRIBUTOR: Madman Entertainment| RUNNING TIME: 114 minutes | RELEASE DATE: 22 August 2019 (AUS)

August 25, 2019
Review: Midsommar

MIDSOMMAR is already one of the most talked-about films of the year. Coming off the back of the cult success of Hereditary, director Ari Aster’s sophomore effort takes the obvious path from Utah to Sweden.

Opening like a Disney storybook, complete with an ornate narrative wall, the tranquillity of the woods is shattered by the ringing of a phone. It’s a signal to expect the unexpected in a film that offers a series of visually led shocks. It might be sold as a horror film, but it’s the home truths that are the most disturbing.

Recovering from a traumatic collective of deaths in her family, Dani (Lady Macbeth‘s Florence Pugh, in a star-making role) accompanies her reluctant boyfriend Christian (Jack Reynor), and his friends Mark (William Jackson Harper) and Josh (Will Poulter), to a pagan festival in Sweden that only occurs once every 90 years.

Aster’s film is a masterclass in mood. Before we learn the nature of Dani’s tragedy, for instance, all we hear are her screams of anguish down a telephone line. From the start, recurring motifs become visual portents of doom: the camera pushing out windows into nature, and conversations conducted through mirrors speak to the duality play and ultimate reversal of power that Aster is foreshadowing.

When the scene switches to Sweden, it’s even more disturbing because the lights are on the whole time. The creative triptych of director Aster, cinematographer Pawel Pogorzelski (Hereditary) and composer Bobby Krlic (aka The Haxan Cloak) introduce us to the audio-visual twists and turns of hallucinogens so gradually that we don’t quite believe what we are seeing for much of the back half of the movie.

There are a few “gross out” moments that maybe push the envelope a little too far and break the magic spell Ari Aster is weaving, especially if you feel that they mischaracterise traditional paganism. It’s also difficult not to acknowledge the controversy around the addition of Ruben (played by Hungarian newcomer Levente Puczkó-Smith), a character who is the product of inbreeding that has been accused of being ableist. The film makes compelling arguments in each direction, and Aster certainly imposes not negative stereotypes around either Ruben or Swedish traditions more broadly.

Yet it’s hard to imagine this building to a more perfect conclusion, one that only the most vile of reviewers would even think about discussing outside of a big red spoilers box. Suffice it to say that the film is ultimately not about horror, the cults, or even the benefits of well-maintained doses of mushrooms. It’s about breaking up, and the importance of having a loving community to share your pain. In this sense, viewers may find some kind of joy instead of terror by the film’s gripping conclusion.

At the time of writing, a 171-minute director’s cut is doing the rounds on the special screening circuit, and will no doubt find its way to home release at some stage. As the theatrical cut is one of the tightest and most effective slices of modern filmmaking this year, any bonus scenes could potentially feel extraneous. Ultimately, this is kind of like a 21st century version of The Wicker Man, the 2006 version of The Wicker Man notwithstanding, and an impeccably shot and atmospheric film from start to finish.

2019 | US | DIRECTOR: Ari Aster | WRITERS: Ari Aster| CAST: Florence Pugh, Jack Reynor, William Jackson Harper, Vilhelm Blomgren, Will Poulter | DISTRIBUTOR: Roadshow Films (AUS) | RUNNING TIME: 147 minutes | RELEASE DATE: 8 August 2019 (AUS)

August 24, 2019
Review: A Resistance

Yu Gwan-sun is such an important figure in Korea’s history, she is known as the nation’s “Joan of Arc” in some circles. An organiser of the March 1st Movement against Japanese colonial occupation, her steadfast refusal to name collaborators or submit to the Japanese threats is more impressive for her only being 17 at the time of her death.

The story of Yu Gwan-sun has (understandably) been told four times before in Korean cinema, many of which were directed by Yun Bong-chun. In tackling this story again, director Joe Min-ho (who shot A Million here in Australia) stated that he didn’t want to make another film about the icon so much as a 17-year-old girl and her beliefs.

In this film’s narrative, Yu Gwan-Sun (portrayed by Ko Ah-Sung, Right Now, Wrong Then) is sent to Seodaemun Prison where she bonds with fellow prisoners (Kim Ye-Eun, Kim Sae-Byuk, and Jeong Ha-Dam among others), refutes the powers that be, and inspires further sedition. It’s a straightforward take, both reverential of its subject while trying to humanise her.

Taking the interesting stylistic approach of shooting in start black and white, a first for the filmmaker, colour footage is reserved only for flashback sequences. In this way, the entire imprisonment is staged as a kind of death, filled with the dreary repetition of life on the inside and grim moments of torture and withholding designed to break the spirits of the prisoners.

There is a fair bit of harsh subject matter in that time though. Yu Gwan-sun is seen to be stripped, beaten, degraded, and tortured. Director Joe does attempt to posit this within a shared sisterhood, a solidarity that inspires other prisoners and people on the outside. If the intention was to not cast her as a martyr, then it is a shame that more time wasn’t spent on developing the character arcs of the women around her. As it stands, we largely learn of Yu Gwan-Sun outside the prison from a handful of colour snippets of her interacting with her family. In other scenes, she is beaten and tortured as a kind of petit Christ figure.

The other theme that rises out of the film is that of collaboration, primarily centred on “Nishida,” a Korean man who joins the Japanese armed forces as a means of advancing his station. Critic Russell Edwards, who moderated a Q&A with the filmmaker and stars at the Korean Film Festival in Australia, pointed to this being a recurring them in recent Korean cinema, citing Battleship Island (2017) as an example. In fact, at the time of writing this review, South Korea has cancelled an intelligence sharing pact with Japan over a trade dispute, and the roots of this fracture arguably trace their way back to their shared history.

So, while A RESISTANCE (항거:유관순 이야기) may not necessarily add anything new to the well-established legend, it’s unquestionably a timely picture. Indeed, younger viewers and foreigners who weren’t raised on the story will no doubt gain a new understanding for Korea’s struggle for independence.

2019 | South Korea | DIRECTOR: Joe Min-ho | WRITERS: Joe Min-ho | CAST: Go Ah-sung, Kim Sae-byuk, Kim Ye-eun, Jeong Ha-dam, Ryu Kyung-soo | DISTRIBUTOR: Korean Film Festival in Australia 2019 (AUS) | RUNNING TIME: 105 minutes | RELEASE DATE: 22 August – 12 September 2019 (KOFFIA)

August 24, 2019
Review: Another Child

ANOTHER CHILD (미성년) is the directorial debut of actor Kim Yun-Seok, perhaps best known for films such as The Chaser (2008) and 1987: When the Day Comes (2018). The winner of multiple awards for his on-screen performances, his first foray behind the camera is worthy of critical praise as well.

Working from his own screenplay, co-written with Lee Bo-ram, it follows two second year high school students: Joo-Ri (Kim Hye-Jun) and Yoon-A (Park Se-Jin). While they wouldn’t normally hang about in the same social circles, the discovery of an affair between their respective parents sees them beginning to collaborate.

Tuning in his finely-honed actor’s senses to the broader narrative, Kim crafts an impressively nuanced character-based piece that never dips into melodrama. Kim Hye-Jun, best known for the Netflix series Kingdom, is a strong young lead, capably matched by newcomer Park Se-Jin. Their attempts to be the parents that their own are incapable of being gives both actors a well of strength to pull from. Their lack of any other commonalities makes the microcosm of their relationship all that more intense.

By comparison, Joo-Ri’s mother Young-Joo, trying to hold together their lives in a dead-end job, is wonderfully portrayed by Yum Jung-Ah (The Mimic). Kim casts himself as the father, who has some scenes playing against a strong male type, literally running away from his daughter in the face of revelation.

Working with cinematographer Hwang Ki-Seok (Saint Janet, Avengers: Age of Ultron), Kim also ensures that the focus on character is never at the expense of the visual storytelling. There’s a beautiful series of shots in a hospital, for example, where a baby’s crib is lit by the purple and blue lights of the ward. With the snow falling outside, the camera pushes through the closed window to give us am internal/external viewpoint that is both stylish and intimate.

In other film, the events leading up to the resolution might seem morbid on one hand, or utterly preposterous on the other. (Without spoiling anything here, it involves a hospital exodus and a couple of mini milk cartons). Yet this is still a coming of age story, one that is filtered through the already tumultuous emotions of teenagers. Kim Yun-Seok establishes himself as a triple threat of actor/writer/director, and if this film is any indication, he will continue to be a strong presence on both sides of Korean cinema’s lenses.

2019 | South Korea | DIRECTOR: Kim Yun-Seok | WRITERS: Kim Yun-Seok, Lee Bo-ram | CAST: Kim Hye-Jun, Park Se-Jin, Yum Jung-Ah, Kim Yun-Seok | DISTRIBUTOR: Korean Film Festival in Australia 2019 (AUS) | RUNNING TIME: 96 minutes | RELEASE DATE: 22 August – 12 September 2019 (KOFFIA)

August 21, 2019
Review: The Odd Family: Zombie On Sale

The zombie film is having something of a renaissance, and Korea has already made its mark with films like Train to Busan and Seoul Station redefining and influencing audiences across the globe. THE ODD FAMILY: ZOMBIE ON SALE (기묘한 가족) takes a slightly different approach, emphasising comedy in this strangely endearing film that happens to feature a bit of bloodletting.

As the title would imply, this is a zombie film about a deeply odd family. We all know the story: a zombie enters the lives of a family living in a small community, and soon the plague spreads like wildfire. Of course, no zombie has encountered a family as opportunistic as this one. Man-Deok (Park In-Hwan) runs a rural gas station that relies on tourists. When a zombie bite gives the Park patriarch back some of his youthful vim and vigour, they concoct a scheme to monetise zombie bites.

Writer/director Lee Min-Jae’s debut is arguably one of the gentler zombie films in the canon. Spending much of the first half of the film simply getting to know the family and their various quirks. The often-unilateral relationship between the strange man (Jung Ga-Ram) and Hae-Gul (Lee Soo-Kyung) swings between meet-cute and broader comedy. As Hae-Gul tries to ween him off flesh using sauce-covered lettuce, there’s a wonderfully silly moment when the pet zombie spots a field of the leafy green vegetables.

The back half of the film gives way to a more traditional zom com, as chaos erupts and the zombie damn breaks. A zombie survival montage, and a possible visual reference to George A. Romero’s Land of the Dead, will be appreciated by the undead traditionalists in the audience. That said, you’re unlikely to see a zombie rave of this quality outside a theme night at a warehouse near you.

There’s an excellent cast assembled here too. Uhm-Ji Won (The Master) has a laconic vibe that throws shade like a hooded lamp. Rising star Jung Ga-Ram (The Poet and the Boy) has fun playing against type, as his deteriorating body displays a physicality to his comedic and dramatic presence.

Lee Min-jae concludes with a time jump that leaves us in a very different environment to the tranquillity at the start of the film, either conclusively bringing his saga to a close or leaving the door wide open for more adventures to come. It’s the kind of film that could easily go on in the vein of Zombieland, continuing to follow this small group of people across the wastelands of Korea if it so chose. Either way, this is a movie that does what it says it’s going to do on the side of the tin, but also manages to surprise and delight throughout.

2019 | South Korea | DIRECTOR: Lee Min-jae | WRITERS: Lee Min-jae | CAST: Park In-hwan, Jung Ga-ram, Lee Soo-kyung, Uhm Ji-won, Kim Nam-gil, Jung Jae-young | DISTRIBUTOR: Korean Film Festival in Australia 2019 (AUS) | RUNNING TIME: 112 minutes | RELEASE DATE: 1-18 August 2019 (KOFFIA)

August 20, 2019
Review: Them That Follow

When Olivia Colman was accepting her Oscar earlier this year for The Favourite, we were all thinking the same thing. What if she was part of a community of snake handlers? Specifically, one run by Walter Goggins. With Britt Poulton and Dan Madison Savage’s THEM THAT FOLLOW, which debuted at Sundance in January, that dream finally comes to fruition.

Somewhere in the Appalachians, Mara (Alice Englert) is the daughter of Pastor Lemuel Childs (Walton Goggins), the leader of a remote community of Pentecostal serpent handlers. As Mara prepares for her wedding under the supervision of the wonderfully named Hope Slaughter (Olivia Colman), several secrets emerge that test her faith and make her question her teachings.

In Poulton and Savage’s screenplay, the tension comes from two sources. Early in the film it is evident that Mara believes that she might be pregnant. Betrothed to another man, it’s evident that her affair is not of this union, immediately showing us the first cracks in the perfect façade of faith. The second half of the film adds an addition strand of drama when a character of little faith is bitten by a snake, and there is a conflict between faith and humanitarian responsibility.

THEM THAT FOLLOW is first and foremost a character play, and first-time feature filmmakers Poulton and Savage have assembled a staggeringly good cast. Olivia Colman is, of course, excellent. But you knew that. Australia’s Alice Englert, perhaps known best for Top of the Lake and Beautiful Creatures, gives a star-making turn as Mara. Walter Goggins is captivating as a cult leader, never giving into the temptation of overplaying his hand.

Brett Jutkiewicz’s photography – shot in Youngstown, Ohio – makes full use of the wide frame. From the opening scene, where the camera lingers on a maternity den of snakes, it’s almost as though we are being enveloped by another world entirely. So powerful is this technique, that any time we spend outside the community feels more alien than in it.

It is quite often the case in films depicting Appalachia that they wallow in poverty porn or cast their characters as a kind of shorthand for America’s underclass. Poulton and Savage are careful not to judge, and instead show a number of families who happen to have a deep faith that is displayed in a way that may seem unusual to the outside. A strong signs of things to come from some new voices in America cinema.

2019 | US | DIR: Britt Poulton, Dan Madison Savage | WRITER: Britt Poulton, Dan Madison Savage | CAST: Olivia Colman, Kaitlyn Dever, Alice Englert, Jim Gaffigan, Walton Goggins, Thomas Mann, Lewis Pullman | DISTRIBUTOR: Sony Pictures Releasing, Melbourne International Film Festival (AUS) | RUNNING TIME: 92 minutes | RELEASE DATE: 1 – 18 August 2019 (MIFF)

August 20, 2019
Review: Angel of Mine

There’s a lot of promise behind ANGEL OF MINE. Director Kim Farrant’s previous film Strangerland was a gripping film from start to finish. Screenwriter Luke Davies won awards across the board for Lion. Yet in this awkward thriller, the sum of those parts doesn’t add up to anything heavenly.

Following the death of their daughter, Lizzie (Noomi Rapace) and Mike (Luke Evans) are divorced. Lizzie simply isn’t coping with life, and Mike sues for custody of their other child. Yet a chance encounter with a little girl causes Lizzie to lose grip on reality, believing it is really her daughter returned. As she begins to ingratiate herself into the lives of the girl’s parents (Yvonne Strahovski and Richard Roxburgh), their relationship takes a darker turn.

Davies’ screenplay, co-written with David Regal, is like a cross between The Hand That Rocks The Cradle and a Law & Order episode for the most part. It starts innocuously enough, with Lizzie stalking a toddler and freaking out in public. By the time she is wandering off with someone else’s child and comically popping up from behind bushes – or “officially in restraining order territory” as the films puts it – the script becomes the stuff of high fantasy rather than anything based in reality.

Rapace and Strahovski give this their all, although the material is not the best either have had to work with. Rapace, for example, has some interesting character turns, including a sex scene showing intimacy issues and a brief visit to a psychologist. Yet these threads are left dangling, undermining any chance that this film had of dealing with grief and mental health issues in any meaningful way. Evans and Roxburgh are given virtually nothing to do, with their roles easily interchangeable and fillable by any actor with a pulse.

Backed by a heavy-handed soundtrack from Gabe Noel, what is most surprising about ANGEL OF MINE is just how plainly shot the film looks. When compared with the rich work of P.J. Dillon on Strangerland, here Farrant and cinematographer Andrew Commis take a point-and-shoot approach that appears to go out of its way to divorce this thriller from any style.

As the film goes for the inevitable climactic ending, complete with a girl-fight face-off, the twists and turns that lead to the conclusion will only shock if you have been invested in this vanilla thriller. The bizarre denouement feels completely incongruous with the rest of the film, making us wonder if they were intentionally going for being a camp classic.

2018 | Australia | DIRECTOR: Kim Farrant | WRITERS: Luke Davies, David Regal | CAST: Noomi Rapace, Luke Evans, Yvonne Strahovski, Richard Roxburgh | DISTRIBUTOR: R&R Films (AUS) | RUNNING TIME: 97 minutes | RELEASE DATE: 5 September 2019 (AUS), 1-18 August 2019 (MIFF)

August 18, 2019
Review: You Don’t Nomi

It’s a fact that Showgirls is one of the greatest films of the 20th century. If you disagree with that opinion, you should probably bail out now. Or better yet, stick around while we dive into a documentary proselytising the virtues of one of the most critically bashed films of all time.

Released in 1995 with the intention of being an NC-17 box office smash, Showgirls came off the back of the success of director Paul Verhoeven and Joe Eszterhas’ Basic Instinct. Starring Elizabeth Berkley, Kyle McLachlan, and Gina Gershon, the basic narrative is a kind of All About Eve with nudity. Perhaps intended as a sharp satire, it instead won seven Razzies and became the butt of jokes for years to come.

Yet the story of Showgirls doesn’t end there. “I think we’re still talking about Showgirls,” says one commentator, “because we’re not done with it yet.” Taking an essayist’s approach, structured around archival interview clips and parts of Adam Nayman’s book It Doesn’t Suck: Showgirls, director Jeffrey McHale’s documentary traces the road to redemption of what is now considered a cult classic.

Posited as a lynchpin in the Trilogy of Camp – alongside Valley of the Dolls (1967) and Mommie Dearest (1981) – McHale spends a bit of time establishing Showgirls as part of a spectrum. There’s a straight comparison to the rest of Verhoeven’s oeuvre, placing it in the context of Turkish Delight (1973), The Fourth Man (1983), Robocop (1987), Total Recall (1990), and the later Black Book (2006). Here we see that Verhoeven’s satirical eye is accepted more widely if violence is the medium of discourse, but sexually explicit material is written off as trash.

Yet the most fun parts of the documentary are the deep dives into some of the more bizarre elements of the film. Nomi’s overreactions to virtually every human interaction seem less weird when juxtaposed with Berkley’s classic “I’m So Excited” scene from Saved By the Bell‘s addiction episode. There’s a case for the Doggy Chow scene being one of the most avant garde pieces of cinema history. The film also makes a compelling argument that chips and nails are the defining totems of Eszterhas’ writing.

Showgirls has experienced one of the stranger journeys of any cult film, from collector’s DVD box sets (complete with stick-on pasties) to a musical parody. McHale’s film is more than likely preaching to the converted though, and all these pieces of evidence are really just another way of collectively revisiting this debatable masterpiece. So, does the film conclude it’s a misunderstood classic or an overrated piece of trash? “We’re all right,” concludes one commentator. “It’s a dream.”

2019 | US | DIR: Jeffrey McHale | WRITER: Jeffrey McHale | FEATURED SUBJECTS: Adam Nayman, April Kidwell, David Schmader, Peaches Christ | DISTRIBUTOR: The Festival Agency, XYZ Films (World Sales), Melbourne International Film Festival (AUS) | RUNNING TIME: 92 minutes | RELEASE DATE: 1 – 18 August 2019 (MIFF)

August 18, 2019