A story of hope, promise, and uncertainty, Adam Leon's Tramps is a fresh and humanistic story centered around two young outcasts in Danny and Ellie, who through a chance encounter, involving a mysterious briefcase, come to find a sense of solace in the budding connection which begins to evolve between them. Danny, a polish immigrant, is a hard, modest worker, yet he isn't satisfied in this environment, always at the whims of his delinquent brother, unable to break-free and find his own source of independence. Ellie's exact circumstances are a tad more mysterious, as the filmmakers wisely never feel the need to be didactic when explaining her source of trauma or lack of fulfillment, only subtly suggesting that she may be the victim of an abusive home relationship in Pittsburgh, with Ellie viewing this aforementioned mysterious briefcase as her way out of her current environment. The convergence of uncertainty and possibility is where Adam Leon's film strikes its most affectionate chord, detailing two characters in Danny and Ellie who seemingly haven't experienced much general kindness or joy in their respective lives, each forced to work together in an attempt to recover the briefcase for their mutual gain. Adam Leon's Tramps feels fresh and alive, with its characterizations, performances, and screenplay, never restricted by the tropes of the romance genre, delivering an exploratory character study that evokes a sense of hope and possibility through the evolution of these two character's relationship. Having a lived-in type of aesthetic, Adam Leon's film is voyeuristic in nature, with the lens often feeling like a cautious observer, remaining at a distance from these two character's whom are thrust into spending 24 hours together. The distance in which the camera observes provides a documentary-type aesthetic but it also is symbolic of these two characters, evoking their sense of uncertainty about one and other, their general timidness, and restraint, one that slowly dissipates over the course of the film as these character's begin to trust each other, with the composition becoming more intimate as a byproduct. A film completely void of forced sentimentality, Tramps reveals a slow transformation of these two souls throughout its narrative, revealing two individuals who slowly begin to shed their rugged exteriors, opening up to each other in ways that seemingly feel foreign to these characters, each of which has never fully been able to be themselves. Trust being paramount, and how this is achieved through a general sense of empathy and kindness is deconstructed through this fragile, evolving relationship at the heart of Adam Leon's Tramps, as both Ellie and Danny work through their own inner turmoil, each seemingly confronted with the possibility of something good happening to them, a foreign concept to those who have never experienced it. The last scene of the film, where these two characters struggle desperately to express their feelings towards one and other is generally one of the most affecting and heartwarming scenes I've seen in recent memory, with each character exposing themselves emotionally, exhibiting a trust and general hopefulness that had yet to be seen beforehand. Danny, a passive character, asserts himself, exposing himself to the possibility of rejection, while Ellie is generally left in a sense of shock, unable to even fathom how this young man could have such general empathy and compassion for her. These two character's struggle to express themselves to each other but their passion for one and other is clear and genuine, with Tramps exhibiting the intrinsic need for passion in order for their to be love. These two character's relationship isn't guaranteed to be a success, far from it, but in this moment they have each found a piece of solace in each other, with Adam Leon's Tramps delivering a hopeful and enchanting romance which is genuine, heartfelt, and deeply affecting.
Patty Jenkins' Wonder Woman is among the upper tier, when it comes to superhero origin stories, tapping into the fundamental nature of superhero mysticism, in presenting Wonder Woman as a character whose unwavering in her actions, a selfless, powerful character whose driven not by her own wants or desires but what she believes is the morally just thing to do. Patty Jenkin's film takes us back to the origins of this character, long before she was Wonder Woman, she was Diana, a princess of the Amazonians, whose desire to be a warrior and a fighter for her people was routinely suppressed by the wishes of her mother, the Queen, who only wished to protect her from harm. When a United States spy crashes on the shores of their sheltered paradise, Diana and her fellow amazonians learn of the massive war which rages in the outside world, World War I, yet Diana is forbidden to enter the conflict by her mother. Unwavering in her desire to stop the threat, and free mankind from the shackles of Aries-the god of war, whom she believes is responsible for the conflict, Diana rejects her mother's passive demeanor towards evil and conflict, setting out to fight alongside mankind in the hope of ending the war of all wars. Patty Jenkin's Wonder Woman is a surprisingly poignant tale of femininity, using the superhero archetypal story to deconstruct the restrictive definitions which society has placed on what femininity is and what it isn't, presenting in Wonder Woman a character who is strong, independent, and aggressive, when it comes to doing what she believes is right. Early on, Diana's maternal relationship with her mother is a simple yet effective parable for femininity, as her mother, the Queen, wishes to protect her, coital her from those outside who could harm her. While well intentioned, Diane's own mother doesn't recognized that true strength comes from independence, unwilling to recognize that Diana's best chance at protecting herself lies in self reliance. Societies' preconceived notions of what woman are and what women aren't is routinely touched on throughout Patty Jenkins film, doing so in smart and subtle ways, as the film effectively presents a lens to our perceptions of femininity as it relates to passive vs. aggressive forms of resolution. Diana's story is one of action and strength, with Jenkins film effectively shattering the notion that these are simply masculine traits, following Diana as she comes to learn and recognize her own true strength, discovering her full powers and true nature as a god by the end of the film. Her journey itself is not only about strength but also independence, with the narrative exhibiting moments throughout the film where Diana has to reject everything she is told by others and take action herself, with the most notable example of this being the front line sequence, which could be best described as the coming of age moment of the film where she becomes Wonder Woman. Like most films of this ilk, Wonder Woman still suffers from a screenplay that can be far too didactic at times when it comes to revealing plot points or character nuances, but the film's feminist assertions by and large feel surprisingly nuanced, which in turn makes them much more powerful, as Jenkins' doesn't show a need to pronounce them loudly but simply show them, with Gal Gardot's Wonder Woman routinely taking matters into her own hands, as a strong, independent force of justice. While the film does run a little long, with the third act in particularly really being the culprit of obstructing the overall brisk pacing, Wonder Woman also surprises when it comes to assertions on humankind, touching on the intrinsic relationship which exists between humanity and conflict, unabashedly acknowledging how both good and evil are often bedside companions in the hearts of humankind. I'd also be re missed if I didn't mention the action in Wonder Woman, with Patty Jenkin's doing an effective job at balancing the visceral nature of the action sequences with the need for coherent presentation, picking her moments when it comes to spectacle while keeping the film relatively grounded in its presentation of the action set pieces, something that has been very rare up to this point int he DC universe, post Nolan's Batman films. Surprisingly introspective not only about femininity but also human nature, Patty Jenkins' Wonder Woman transcends mere escapism at times throughout its story, offering up not only a crowd pleasing superhero film but also a story that is sure to inspire some on an emotional level that goes well beyond mere entertainment.
Trey Edward Shults' It Comes At Night is a horror film which attempts to exhibit the quintessence of its genre, personifying the intrinsic nature of horror through a relatively quiet, haunting human story of the primal, sometimes ruthless nature, of survival. It Comes At Night is a story of continuance, following Paul and his family, who have secured themselves in their home, deep in the forest, in an attempt to protect themselves from an unnatural threat that terrorizes the world. Along with his wife, Paul has established a set of rules for him and his family in order to survive, ones that are tested with the arrival of a desperate young family whom seeks refuge in their secure home. It Comes At Night is a film which is intent on remaining vague about the unnatural threat that terrorizes the world in what one comes to understand is some type of post-apocalyptic scenario, but the film never panders to the viewer when it comes to disclosing the details of this dire situation, letting narrative itself and the characterizations' slowly provide insight into the world. In a sense, while Trey Edward Shults' rejects any notion of didactic filmmaking, even when it comes to establishing the environment of its characters, effectively subverting the norms of the horror genre where world-building tends to be considered paramount. Attempting to deconstruct the inherent selfishness and violence of survival, It Comes At Night is a film that is a film which reveals how quickly empathy and humanism are eroded under the guise of existential threats, detailing how desperation and despair drive good natured individuals to do heinous things in order to survive. Trust is a fleeting concept in this environment, with the divulging relationship between the two families creating tension, deceit, and potentially conflict, with much of It Comes At Night being a brooding character study with a great sense of slow building escalation, as the power structures and rules of law established by Paul slowly become tested by this new family, whose demeanor and general outlook in this harsh environment to be more humanistic and empathetic, far less hardened by the grim outlook of the world they inhabit. It Comes at Night could be considered a plea for humanism and empathy even in the most dire of situations, with the film's finale divulging into an extremely dark and traumatic place, one which finds all the character deeply effected, whether it be mentally or physically, by their survival-based actions. It Comes At Night touches on lots of interesting dynamics and thematic ideas outside of this plea, such as the toxic effect of authority or humanities' intrinsic desire for control, but they simply aren't fully explored enough, with the filmmakers intent on delivering a startling manifestation of what true horror is - the erosion of morality and humanism in the face of existential threat. Much of this film works thanks to strong performances and Trey Edward Shults' direction, with the filmmaker's use of sound and image effectively creating an atmosphere of mystery, intrigue, and tension, one that relies heavily on darkness to tell its story of the impending doom and existential threat that is never truly identified by the filmmakers. A dire affair that relies very little on action or gore to create its chilling story, It Comes At Night is a film which attempts to tap into the cold, primal nature of horror, one which finds its characters slowly lose their humanity and sense of morality when their lives are threatened.
Maura Axelrod's Maurizio Cattelan: Be Right Back is a documentary profiling an art world upstart in Maurizio Cattelan, whose provocative style led him to acclaim and eventually status in the artistic establishment. Playful in execution, much like the disruptive, subversive style of the artist it profiles, Be Right Back is a film that is first and foremost a portrait, detailing Cattelan's early life and the unique progression of his career, one that found him go from renegade prankster to an institution himself in the contemporary art world, with the Guggenheim doing a retrospective of his work in 2011. Having known very little about Maurizio Cattelan, I found this documentary informative and full of interesting ideas about the elusive nature of art itself, one where subjectivity dispels any finite definition for what is art, with what it means being far more ambiguous than the art establishment tends to let on. Maura Axelrod's Maurizio Cattelan: Be Right Back's desire to profile this disruptive, controversial artist does, at times, come into conflict with its thematic pronouncements about art, with the film's assertions into subjectivity vs. objectivity, art's relationship with commerce, and the general reflexive nature of defining art itself, not as fully explored throughout its narrative as I would have hoped. Maurizio Cattelan being a disruptor who was written off as a prankster by some of the art establishment, Be Right Back explores the confrontational nature which art can take, challenging perspectives and expectations of what is allowed or what is not in the art world by those who experience it. Through this profile of Cattelan's disruptive style, Maura Axelrod's film touches on how coercive the relationship can be between the art institutions and power structures in the community and the artist themselves, much of this conflict being related to the desire by these structures to classify and grade something in art that is intrinsically up to the subjective reality of each individual who experiences it, not some collective. Be Right Back exhibits how the fundamental nature of contemporary art is rooted in belief, with Cattelan's rise to notoriety being driven by those who began to believe that his work was something to be admired, collectors or buyers who admired his provocative, singular style. Looking at the relationship between art and commerce, Be Right Back profiles how art itself is a commodity that is driven by the subjective emotional value to those who admire it, but more so financially by relevance defined by the art institutions and power structures, detailing how much mass perception hugely drives the price and therefore the success of the artist. An elusive artist who very much wishes to remain out of the spotlight, Be Right Back raises intriguing assertions about Maurizio Cattelan and the mindset of any devout artist, detailing how artistic drive and devotion to personal expression is often at conflict with socialization and even companionship, showing the toll this man's passions have had on those who care for him, with his drive not allowing him to give the same amount of love in return. Intimate yet expansive in its assertions about art and the artist which it profiles, Maura Axelrod's Maurizio Cattelan: Be Right Back is a fascinating art documentary which raises lots of alluring questions about the nature of art itself.
Far from an accessible experience, even for the relatively ardent cinema-goer, Albert Serra's The Death of Louis XIV is a slow-paced, piercing evocation on life and death, scoping its thematic assertions around Louis XIV, who died of gangrene, largely due to the inability of 18th-century medicine and its administrators. The Death of Louis XIV details the slow and steady deterioration of Louis XIV, using its tepid pacing in an aggressive way, forcing the viewer to stare into the abyss with this powerful man, and his army of doctors and counselors who can do nothing to save him, with Serra delivering a piercing document on the true weight of death, and the significance and gift that is life. Serra masterfully juxtaposes the importance of King Louis in this society, one where he is in absolute power, with the uninterested, slow, yet methodical nature of death, exhibiting how humanities' perceived power structures or societal classes, make no difference when the darkness comes for them. The overbearing decadence offers little reprieve, with the most powerful man in the country being slowly taken away. Louis XIV's deterioration and the threat that presents to his general counsel and the monarchy of France is methodically presented by Albert Serra's singular eye, revealing the backroom conversations by doctors, counselors, and men of religion, all of which have no solutions to the existential threat which defines humanity. Scientism and Religion are both man-crafted constructs which attempt to either define or explain our existence, yet Serra traverses man's various attempts at defining life itself with The Death of Louis XIV, exhibiting how they are merely one-in-same when it comes to humanity's attempts to grapple with existential meaning. Wry, yet darkly witty in tone, The Death of Louis XIV deals with some weighty and beguiling themes, one that pokes fun at the neoclassical period while simultaneously tapping into existential assertions. Albert Serra's aesthetic for The Death of Louis XIV is ravishing, using what appears to be almost exclusively natural lighting, a film which perfectly encapsulates its era, with all the lavish decadence offering little reprieve for King Louis as death approaches his door. Centered with a creative and entrancing performance by Jean-Pierre Léaud, Albert Serra's The Death of Louis XIV is a challenging film for one's attention span, yet its grandiose assertions about life and humanity, its striking aesthetic, and skilled direction, make it a memorable and entrancing experience to behold.
Ray Ashley, Morris Engel, and Ruth Orkin's Little Fugitive is simple, yet profound exploration of innocence, responsibility, and youthful exuberance, detailing the exploits of a young boy in Joey, a New Yorker who finds himself all alone in the crowded confines of Coney Island, having to fend for himself after his brother's practical joke goes too far. What equates to nothing more than a juvenile prank in the eyes of Lenny and his friends, a way of riding themselves of the responsibilities of caring after Lenny's kid brother Joey by faking death, quickly descends into a waking nightmare for Joey himself, who slowly sees his innocence stripped away instantly by the presumed death of his older brother, whom he believes was shot and killed. Joey is a character who is now all alone in the vast cityscapes of New York City, forced to fend for himself as he makes his way to Coney Island. Through an observational eye, Little Fugitive is an allegorical tale about want vs. need, detailing the transition which exists in life between the freedom of youth and the responsibilities of adulthood, detailing firsthand through the experiences of young Joey, who at least for a day, is forced to shed himself of his youthful innocence and work to sustain himself with no help whatsoever. Joey's experiences alone not only shatter his innocence but also that of his brother Lenny, who desperately tries to track down his kid brother, as both these boys learn a valuable lesson about responsibility and the great distinction which exists between want vs. need in the absence of their mother, who is forced to leave town due to a family emergency. The visual aesthetic of Little Fugitive is impressionistic, exuding the internal nature of this young boy, often oscillating between the youthful exuberance and endless curiosities of a child who finds astonishment in the omnipresent experiences of everyday life, and that of a waking nightmare, where the world around this young character feels overbearing, chaotic, and sometimes even malevolent to this young boy whose got so much to learn about the world around him. Featuring stark black and white cinematography, and sound design which features heavy use of strings, Little Fugitive is often an immersive experience, a observational and inquisitive study of youthful innocence which serves as a biting parable for adolescence and eventually adulthood. As we watch Joey navigate the unknown boardwalks and sandy dunes of Coney Island, we experience a child who slowly begins to adapt, learning to make money via recycling old glass bottles, using this money to do things he enjoys like riding the horses at the beach. The youthful lack of responsibility is supplanted by Joey learning and somewhat embracing his newfound sense of independence, but it is only an illusion, which slowly withers away as Joey struggles to sustain himself, with a creeping sense of loneliness, fear, and uncertainty creeping in, as Joey's innocence about everyday life becomes shattered under the weight of personal responsibility. A film full of social realism which surely influenced many film movements which followed it, such as cinema verite or the French New Wave, Little Fugitive is a film which magnificently encapsulates the great distinction between childhood and adulthood through its pensive, observational eye, being an immersive experience that defines both in vivid detail.
An idiosyncratic oddity which plays like a satirical documentary full of emotional truth, Shirley Clarke's The Connection is centered around eight drug addicts, who impatiently wait for their herion connection to arrive in a grungy, New York apartment. Jim Dunn, an aspiring documentary filmmaker, has cut a deal with the group of junkies- he will pay for their fix, in exchange for letting him document their experiences with heroin. Shirley Clarke's The Connection is far from an easy film to experience, being a piece of cinema that doesn't adhere to the established rules of the medium. It's grungy, bleak, and intent on forging its own path, one where narrative is inconsequential, with its main intent centered around transporting the viewer into the environment in which its subjects inhabit. These junkies, the perceived outcasts of society, give monologues and various diatribes about what they are thinking and feeling, as The Connection slowly humanizes them with its raw, unhinged style, tapping into their personal anxieties, emotions, and struggles, void of preconceived notions about these characters and how much of society views them. The use of jazz interludes which envelope the film are fitting for Clarke's experimental style, the improvisational nature where dialogue, camera-work, and story feel completely up-in-the-air, adhering to the raw, unabashed style of its subjects, the anxiety-riddled junkies who await their next fix. Much like John Cassavetes early work, Clarke's cinema verite style is a reminder of cinema's boundless nature as an artform, with The Connection not adhering to the established doctrine of filmmaking, focusing instead on expressing the look-and-feel of its characters, serving as a stark, yet stunning reminder of the unlimited potential of cinema where the rules of what is and what isn't cinema are merely a fabrication, created by those who don't recognize the ubiquitous nature of art. The Connection goes as far as to mock this idea of a clearly defined rules of cinema, with Clarke's film playing like a satire of documentary filmmaking at times, mocking Dunn, this documentary filmmaker, whose shows an inability to recognize the difference between subjective and objective reality, being a filmmaker who wishes to scope his subjects to create the narrative and story he desires, unable to recognize an observational, unobtrusive lens is paramount in exhibiting truth. Near the end of the film, Dunn himself writes off his documentary experiment as a failure, as Shirley Clarke's The Connection makes a profound statement about artistic endeavors, detailing how truth doesn't always adhere to a filmmakers vision, expressing how true artistic intentions must always be palpable and willing to adjust to the world which it chooses to document.
Documenting the tumultuous relationship between the people of Hong Kong and the Chinese Communist government when it comes to universal suffrage and democratic sovereignty, Joe Piscatella's Joshua : Teenager vs. Superpower examines this continued struggle through the lens of one of its most vocal and inspiring activists, Joshua Wong. The founder of Scholarism, a student organization which was founded to oppose the nationalization of education introduced in Hong Kong by the Chinese government, Joshua Wong represents the people of Hong Kong's struggle for democracy, with this young activist's resolve and dedication being kinetic, unwilling to be complacent in accepting the system as is - a deceitful "one country, two system" which finds the smaller Hong Kong systematically oppressed under the weight of the larger, communist China, where personal freedom's are not a priority, only the will of the state. Joe Piscatella's Joshua: teenager vs. Superpower is a rather straightforward activist documentary where intentions and outcome perfectly align, but while the film may lack some of the more nuanced aspects of this tumultuous relationship between communist China and capitalist Hong Kong, it is hard not to admire the film's dogmatic depiction of activism. Focusing specifically on the importance of the youth movement through its profile of Joshua Wong, Joe Piscatella's film is a plea to individuals, both young and old, asking them to engage in civil obedience when it is deemed necessary to instill social change, particularly in a place like Hong Kong which doesn't have the ability to democratically select its own leaders. The pacing of the film is its strong suit, following Joshua Wong's struggles and eventual victory over the National Education incentive early on, detailing the stark difference between education and indoctrination, a concept which sometimes I feel like not enough Americans' fully grasp. Joshua Wong's fight for freedom of thought is essential but also a microcosm of the larger fight his country has for having the right to their own democracy and hereby identity, one which is detailed with the Occupy Central protest which Scholarism joins over the desire for universal suffrage from Communist China. The continued escalation of the conflict between the people of Hong Kong and the state of China is felt throughout Joshua: Teenager vs. Superpower, with the film be a glowing testament to the importance of perseverance the power of resolve. The pursuit off freedom is the lifeblood of Joe Piscatella's film, which exhibits the dedication and perseverance necessary to inflict change in the world, doing so with a glowing sense of admiration for its subjects.
Andrzej Wajda's final film, Afterimage, is an angry and essential biopic centered around avant-garde artist Wladyslaw Strzeminiski, who stood against Stalinist orthodoxy in order to preserve his artistic freedom, uncompromising in his desire to advance his ideas about the fundamental, individualistic nature of art and what it means for personal expression. Andrzej Wajda's Afterimage documents a renowned and respected Polish artist who is slowly ostracized for his unwillingness to conform to the desires of the establishment, rejecting the notion that all artwork must be rooted in social realism and political doctrine, unrelenting in his assertion that art is intangible, personal, and subjective. Wajda's film juxtaposes the individualistic nature of artwork and artistic expression with the collectivist nature of politics, detailing how socialistic practices of Marx Doctrine stand intrinsically at odds with creativity and expression, with authoritative government forces, whether from the right or left-side of the political spectrum, only respecting art that conforms to their ideology, which in this case was social realism, which can be used as a form of propaganda to comfort, control, and conform the masses to the vision of the establishment. Afterimage rightfully touches on how art itself, the personal freedom of expression, the various styles and meanings it can present to the world, is intrinsically at odds with the collectivist doctrine of cultural Marxism, where egalitarianism is obtained through forceful authoritative power, which retrains the individuals ability to think differently about the world around them, and form their own sense of expression through their art, regardless if it conforms to the mainstream perspective of how things should be. This idea that art exists solely for social change is absolutely destroyed by Andrzej Wajda in Afterimage, as the film reveals how art was easily reduced to government propaganda by this regime, with Wajda using this biopic to deconstruct how art itself is first and foremost the most liberal form of individualism and expression we as humans have, eviscerating this idea that art must be about larger social issues in order to be a valid or worth producing, which is what Wladyslaw Strzeminiski faced with the rise of the Police United Workers Party. Art, or personal expression, is individualistic by nature, with the creative process being something that manifests itself from a place of personal intimacy, yet the reason art is so threatening to authoritative regimes and various power structures is because while it comes from a deeply personal, individualistic place it has the power to transcend the individual and speak to the masses when shared, triggering some form of emotional or intellectual response from others, tapping into our shared humanity. A passionate biopic of one of Poland's most renowned artists, Andrzej Wajda's Afterimage is a needed expose into the true nature of art, where liberal, personal expression should never be censored or restricted, with art being a deeply personal experience that has the ability to inflict change in the collective through individual expression, not government force.
Set in a dystopian future where starvation is rife and mankind has been reduced to their primal nature of survival, Stephen Fingleton's The Survivalist is a dire, minimalist deconstruction of sustainability, where the harsh realities of nature provide little reprieve for sentimentality or empathy, with tactical practicality being of paramount concern. Featuring almost no dialogue early on, The Survivalist details the exploits of a man who lives off the grid, maintaining a small plot of land hidden deep in the forest in order to survive. A character who lives a life of complete and utter solitude, only concerned with survival, this man finds his internal cree tested by the arrival of a starving woman and her teenager daughter who seek refuge. Extremely untrustworthy at first, this man's veneer of suspicion soon weakens under the weight of his own loneliness, as he strikes a deal with the mother and daughter for refuge, with their budding, yet uneasy relationship slowly injecting more than just necessity into life, but also desire- a fleeting concept for a survivalist. Stephen Fingleton's The Survivalist is a film which never neglects the dire situation in which its characters find themselves in, never shying away from delivering an honest, grim reality of this existence, where tough decisions are made in order to survive, with empathy and general human kindness only managing to shine through in small glimpses, with these character's showcasing a quiet, muted yearning for some form of sentimentality which this existence strictly doesn't afford them. In this setting, desire is an afterthought, an incomprehensible ideal, a paramount aspect of our shared humanity which has been stripped away by scarcity and death with our main protagonist's own cold demeanor only slowly deteriorating once the mother and teenage daughter come into his life, offering him some semblance of companionship/shared humanity. The Survivalist exhibits how desire is an intrinsic part of our humanity, with necessity not being enough when it comes to placating the human condition. All these character, the man, the woman, and her daughter, have been reduced to a primal form of survival in one way or another, with trust being almost unattainable in such a world where life itself is less than assured. While grim from opening to close, at its core, The Survivalist is a film about humanities need for companionship, trust, and empathy, with the character arch of our main protagonist being one which finds a cold, primal figure slowly and methodically come to a point where he finds something in his life that he cares more about than himself. It's through his personal sacrifice that he finds solace in this harsh environment, placing another person's well-being above his own in the end, a completely foreign concept, particularly in this scarcity-stricken dystopian world. Exquisitely crafted and meticulous in its ability to create an atmosphere of foreboding dread and introspection, Stephen Fingleton's The Survivalist is a dire, yet poetic journey into darkness which finds a semblance of light.
Love of all things cinema brought me here.