Best movies at NYFF 2018
Miss a new film by the Coens at your own peril. Their latest—an amusingly violent six-part comedy set in a highly stylized Old West—feels a touch like a placeholder after the darker riches of Inside Llewyn Davis and Hail, Caesar! But when Zoe Kazan shows up on the dusty trail as an evolving frontierswoman, the movie deepens into the kind of drama the brothers are capable of. You'll have much fun with this.
Ignore the buzz that already has this one leading the Oscar horse race (too soon!) and just let it function as the wonderfully catty and vicious period piece it was meant to be. In an 18th-century England that owes more to Stanley Kubrick’s fish-eyed Barry Lyndon than to reality, Rachel Weisz and Emma Stone duke it out for the affections of the fickle Olivia Colman, who plays their queen. Clearly, Greek director Yorgos Lanthimos has watched Dangerous Liaisons a zillion times.
Get past that awful title and you’ll be treated to an unexpectedly affecting riot-grrrl fantasia (inspired in all but name by the offstage antics of Courtney Love). Star Elisabeth Moss rages through the first hour to an intentionally annoying degree, yet writer-director Alex Ross Perry slows things down for a fragile stretch of redemption that’s among the year’s finest climaxes.
It should be illegal to ruin the reveals of this ultra-strange sci-fi movie. Suffice it to say, it stars Juliette Binoche and the fearless Robert Pattinson (evolving into an indie director’s best friend after last year’s Good Time and The Lost City of Z), it owes more to thinkers like Solaris than to Alien, and it concerns some explicitly sexual experiments in outer space. You’ll be whispering about the Fuckbox for days.
What good is a fancy film festival without the latest from provocateur Jean-Luc Godard, now 87 years young? The legendary filmmaker of Breathless and Contempt continues his semiotic plunge into the meaning behind Hollywood’s glamour factory: You’ll see clips from movies you know, including Kiss Me Deadly and Johnny Guitar, but stripped of their sound and thrust into a political realm. At just over 80 minutes, it’s the coolest date movie of the fest, sure to inspire a finger-snapping post-film debate over cocktails.
Bursting out of a relatively weak Sundance lineup, writer-director Tamara Jenkins's first movie in more than a decade shows the maker of The Savages in flinty form. Her new one is a comedy about the heartwrenching calculations of in vitro fertilization. If that doesn't sound like a laugh riot, let us re-introduce you to the effortlessly wry Paul Giamatti and a revelatory Kathryn Hahn, huggable and frazzled in every frame.
Presented on a sprawling black-and-white canvas, Alfonso Cuarón’s epic memory poem—a salute to the two women who raised the Gravity director during a time of personal and national trauma (i.e., the early ’70s)—is the type of generous, Fellini–esque film that’s become too rare nowadays. Netflix is launching it, but take this opportunity to see it on a rapturously large screen.
Japan’s Hirokazu Kore-eda has tremendous respect for those living off the grid, who have fallen between the cracks; he wants to restore a bit of their dignity. His devastating latest, about a makeshift household of mostly unrelated partners struggling to make ends meet, is one of his most accessible. The film stresses a deep message: Family is where you find it. This is the year’s most compassionate movie.
The festival will present the much-anticipated reconstruction of Orson Welles’s self-deprecating The Other Side of the Wind, never completed during his lifetime. That’s some high-level Welles Studies, but They’ll Love Me When I’m Dead—made by Morgan Neville, the guy who recently broke your heart with the Fred Rogers profile Won’t You Be My Neighbor?—is fun for everybody: a manic, witty and frequently riotous breakdown of Welles’s final 15 years, during which he attempted a Hollywood comeback in between wine ads.
Presidential corruption and swirling, all-consuming scandal: Will it actually feel like a night’s entertainment? This definitive four-hour examination—by the fastidious doc director Charles Ferguson, also of the award-winning Inside Job—casts grumbly actors to reenact Oval Office bitch sessions. But its real value comes via new interviews with the coolly critical Elizabeth Holtzman, journos Bob Woodward and Carl Bernstein, and the already much missed John McCain.