Priscilla’s story, ‘Janet Planet,’ and French food porn draw attention at the New York Film Festival
Of all the major film festivals — Sundance, Cannes, Venice, Berlin, Toronto, and Telluride — New York is the only one that doesn’t give out any awards. The critic in me respects that decision while the awards junkie in me gives a big old Bronx cheer. But the lack of awards doesn’t mean they don’t show awardwinning films. So let’s start this dispatch with three films that won accolades at other festivals.
The festival centerpiece was Sofia Coppola’s “Priscilla.” Coppola adapts Priscilla Presley’s 1985 memoir “Elvis and Me,” and Presley is a producer. Following in the footsteps of everyone from Kurt Russell to Austin Butler, “Euphoria”’s Jacob Elordi plays Elvis. Cailee Spaeny, who plays Priscilla from age 14 to her divorce from Elvis in 1973, won best actress at Venice.
Unlike last year’s “Elvis,” Baz Luhrmann’s hyperactive disaster, “Priscilla” wasn’t made with the approval of Elvis Presley’s estate, which meant the film had to include re-creations of Graceland and creative workarounds for any music.
It’s easy to see why the estate wasn’t rushing to rubber stamp Coppola’s movie — its Elvis is a monster. He’s depicted grooming and kissing 14-year-old Priscilla, gaslighting her repeatedly, and, after marrying her, subjecting her to domestic abuse. Elvis throws a chair at her for expressing an opinion.
A less flattering and more honest look at Elvis is welcome, considering America’s fanatic fixation on him. However, the problem with this movie is that it lacks structure. Often, we have no sense of when events are happening. There’s such a haphazard quality to the storytelling that, at times, I thought a reel went missing.
Additionally, neither Elordi nor Spaeny are given anything more than one-dimensional characters to play. His Elvis voice is inconsistent — he keeps losing it — and she never gives us any reason why she’d be in love with Elvis besides, well, he’s Elvis. The performances are flat, the filmmaking dull. There’s little to endorse here.
And the film’s final needle drop is unforgivable.
Sharing prizes with “Priscilla” at Venice was “Evil Does Not Exist,” which took home four awards including the Grand Jury Prize (a.k.a. second place). Director Ryûsuke Hamaguchi follows his 2021 hit “Drive My Car” with this somber, meditative tale about the potential spoiling of the Japanese mountain village by a Tokyo company called Playmode.
Playmode wants to build a “glamping,” or “glamorous camping,” tourist attraction above Harasawa, the hometown of nature expert and self-proclaimed “jack-of-all-trades” Takumi (Hitoshi Omika) and his daughter, Hana (Ryô Nishikawa). The two take long walks in the woods surrounding their home, accompanied by the lovely, occasionally foreboding score by Eiko Ishibashi.
Representatives from Playmode arrive for a town hall meeting to assure the residents that no harm will come to their idyllic town. The company severely underestimates the villagers, however — they know every single danger this resort will bring, natural and otherwise. Unfortunately, Playmode is committed to decimating the area; Hamaguchi’s screenplay depicts a farcical set of situations the company will enforce despite impending disaster.
The film leaves the viewer to decide if its title is true, or, if not, to define the evil that actually does exist. I wasn’t sure where this leisurely paced film was going, but it kept me intrigued enough to follow the story to its ambiguous conclusion.
My favorite film I saw at NYFF was “The Taste of Things,” a delectable helping of French food porn that won Anh Hung Tran the best director award at Cannes. Starring the legendary Juliette Binoche (who is absolutely radiant here), this is a film about passion, longing, and incredible feats of cooking derring-do, all taking place at the turn of the 20th century.
Binoche plays Eugénie, a master chef who, for the last 20 years, has lived and worked alongside fellow chef, Dodin Bouffant (Benoît Magimel). Their dishes are known throughout the area and are so elaborate your jaw will drop (do not, under any circumstances, watch this movie on an empty stomach). The screen fills with evidence of the appetite these two share for cooking, as we witness the culinary shorthand developed from their partnership.
Every so often, Dodin asks Eugénie to marry him, a poignant request she politely shoots down.
This is a gorgeous, captivating film, and not just because of mouthwatering dishes like the complex pot-au-feu. The music, cinematography, and acting contribute to a mood that’s achingly romantic, devastatingly sad (the last scene feels like dunking your face in raw onion), and lest I forget, constantly hungry. One of the year’s best.
The worst movie I saw? “Janet Planet.” Despite a great lead performance by Zoe Ziegler as an 11-year-old confused by the adults around her, this cinematic debut by Pulitzer Prize-winning playwright (and Massachusetts native) Annie Baker was a long, long slog. It’s the kind of twee, new-agey indie movie critics tend to love (indeed, I am in the minority for hating it). But there are three things I’m dangerously allergic to: avocados, bees, and whimsy. That last allergy explains my negative reaction.
Worth a mention is “All of Us Strangers.” Andrew Haigh’s film about a lonely gay man named Adam (Andrew Scott — yes, Hot Priest from “Fleabag”) who discovers his parents (Claire Foy and Jamie Bell) are apparently still alive despite dying in a car crash when he was 12. Not only are they still on Earth, but they haven’t aged. They interrogate him about how his life has been since they died.
Meanwhile, Adam starts a romance with his neighbor, Harry (Paul Mescal from 2022’s “Aftersun”). Those looking for some steamy couplings between the two handsome blokes will not be disappointed. You will be shaken and stunned, however, as this movie takes some very dark turns. Sexy, romantic, well-acted, and cathartic as this film is, Haigh did adapt it from a horror novel, “Strangers” by Taichi Yamada. I look forward to reviewing this movie later in the year.