by A. Freedman, Staff Writer

Memoria (dir. Apichatpong Weerasethakul)

Slow cinema at its slowest- and most beautiful. Thai auteur Apichatpong Weerasethakul (Uncle Boonmee Who Can Recall His Past Lives) made his first English language film with Memoria, starring Tilda Swinton as a Scottish woman named Jessica, living in Medellin, Colombia who awakens one early morning to a strange disturbance. Tending after her sister who is laid up in the hospital nearby, the disturbance sets her off on a journey of self-discovery that takes her to some unexpected encounters, and unexpected places.

This was my first time seeing one of Weerasethakul's films, which are typically well received at film festivals. I was reminded of the works of Tsai Ming Liang, the Taiwanese auteur who also loves to slow things down- with long takes set-up inside a single stationary camera frame. In Memoria, it isn't just the visuals though- it is as much about the sound design. It might be the first movie that could also double as an ASMR video. Delve into this mystery alongside Jessica, and notice your heart rate and breathing slow down, as you open your mind to the wonders emanating from the screen and the sound system. 

Offseason (dir. Mickey Keating)

Last year I went to Cape May, NJ near Christmastime, and really enjoyed myself. The beautiful beach town with Victorian style houses was fairly empty, but that only made it more enjoyable during a time when you were trying to stay far away from other humans. It was really fun, but also kind of eerie, kind of creepy. Something about empty streets, beach villas and Christmas lights made for a one of a kind spooky atmosphere.

Offseason, a new film from festival regular Mickey Keating, takes such a premise and turns it into the horror film that it deserves. Set on an island somewhere off the coast of Florida, it stars Jocelin Donahue (The House Of The Devil) as a young woman who takes an emergency trip when she receives a letter that her mother's grave has been desecrated- on the vacation town island where she spent many years of her life. She should have turned around the second she saw that Richard Brake (3 From Hell, 31) was the tollbooth guy. Soon she discovers that everything is not what it seems, and it feels pretty easy to tell what famous horror film(s) that Keating is remixing.

The unique tropical setting does a lot of the heavy lifting for Offseason- allowing for a cool mood and tone, in a kind of place not often associated with horror stories. The empty spareness of the town brought to mind what it was like to live through the early days of the COVID-19 pandemic, when the world seemed apocalyptically empty and you crossed the sidewalk to avoid other humans. Unfortunately, Offseason struggles to add a sound, compelling story into the mix. Yet the overall vibe is there, if you're looking to watch something eerie as the days get shorter and you find yourself dreaming of summer. 

Listening To Kenny G. (dir. Penny Lane)

For as long as I have been alive, saxophonist Kenny G. has been a cultural punchline.  He has long gone hand in hand with cringe, from his music to his appearance to the sense that he is just a very uncool white dude. It would appear however, that the joke is on all of us- as he is the greatest selling instrumental artist of all time, with over 75 million albums sold. People like the guy- they like his music, they like him. Kenny G. has won and the haters lost long ago. But why do they persist? And who is this mysterious Weird Al lookalike underneath the hair and the sax? Documentarian Penny Lane (Hail Satan, Our Nixon), who specializes in this brand of weird Americana, seeks to find out in Listening To Kenny. G. 

Comprised of interviews with the man himself, fan tributes, plenty of archival footage, and testimony from many a skeptical jazz critic, Listening To Kenny G. is the ultimate portrait of a true cultural touchstone. It reminded me of Eugene Jarecki's 2018 film The King, which sought to reexamine Elvis Presley through the prism of race, culture war and politics in the age of Donald Trump. Any popular artist is better understood as a reflection of the times in which they broke through to the public. One of the most fascinating sequences of the documentary is looking at G.'s rise in the late 80's and early 90's coinciding with the smooth jazz format, popular in part due to the rise of 9-5 office culture. Musical trends are also commerce trends, after all. 

It is also great to watch these well meaning, intelligent, predominantly white jazz critics slowly lose their minds as they grapple with the masses loving an artist they kind of despise. They do their best to hold on, but by the end of Listening To Kenny G., even some of them are won over. If you can't beat em, sometimes you gotta join em- and hey, it's really not that bad!  

The Sadness (Dir. Rob Jabbaz)

If you aren't prepared, get ready- the age of the COVID-19 film is upon us. Every film that comes out set in the present is going to have to decide whether or not it wants to acknowledge the reality of the pandemic, not too different from what happened with 9/11. Some films have already begun to do this in baby steps- and some decide to go right for the blood spurting jugular, such as The Sadness. 

Released earlier this year in its native Taiwan, it has been making the international festival circuit to grossed out audiences, mouths agape at the shocking carnage onscreen. Set in a world where there is a very Covid looking pandemic going on, The Sadness takes our fears of a mutated virus and an emotionally depleted public and throws them right into this on screen nightmare. One day, a young couple named Jim and Kat (Berant Zhu and Regina Lei) wake up to continue their strange new pandemic routine, only to find that outside is 28 Days Later pumped up on 8 million points of steroids. A bloodthirsty populace is suddenly ripping each other apart, and with the use of fine motor skills to boot. Separated, Jim and Kat have to find a way to reunite amidst the carnage. And boy, what carnage there is! Be prepared for some of the most fake blood you have ever seen in your life, and violence of every kind imaginable. I was reminded of David Cronenberg's Shivers, among some of his other films- where a virus infects a population center and forces them...or allows them...to act completely uninhibited, regardless of the consequences. 

The Sadness comes with a few trigger warnings, but anyone who loves a late night splatter fest will find plenty to enjoy here. It is unrelenting and absurd. Most interestingly, it seems to portray the way that many of us may have lost some faith in our fellow man over the last two years, after everything that has happened. The Sadness takes our collective emotional exhaustion, lights a molotov cocktail and tosses it right in there.