Cristian Mungiu Demonstrates That Racism & Xenophobia Are Universal In ‘R.M.N.’ [Cannes Review]

A diet of rice and tofu, plenty of regular, gentle exercise and excellent hospitals: the Japanese have nailed the formula for getting old prolifically. With a little less than 30% of the population over 65, Japanese society is now officially termed as “super-aged.” Meanwhile, thanks to a low birth rate and an ingrained opposition to immigration, the total number of people is falling dramatically. Each year, there are fewer younger people to look after more older ones. It’s a slow-burn economic crisis.

When his mother spoke, Ernest remembers, everything sounded important. “I cling to her light,” he tells us in voiceover, an adult remembering how that felt. The Ernest he is recalling is just a little boy (Milan Doucansi), snuggled against Rose (Annabelle Lengronne, a wonderfully vivid presence), with his grave and clever older brother Jean (Sidy Fofana) sitting opposite on a train taking them from Cote d’Ivoire to a new French life.

Lucas’ bishop warns him of the dangers before he sets out to minister to a remote community of Icelanders in Cannes Un Certain Regard title Godland. “It’s easy to go mad there,” he explains at his Copenhagen dining table, steadily chewing his way through the fabulous feast in front of him. Iceland, where the sun never sets on summer nights, where the weather is extreme, the landscape broodingly monumental: just remember the apostles, “a group of lonely men,” the bishop advises as he wipes his mouth. Lucas (Elliott Crosset Hove) is not eating; one glance tells you he’s a priest of an ascetic bent.

Kelly Reichardt has been making minimal Americana since the early 1990s, mostly around the state of Oregon where she lives and mostly about her favored awkward squad: quiet square pegs who don’t quite fit the round holes society provides. In this ongoing quest she has found many collaborators, but none more attuned to her recessive brand of naturalism than Michelle Williams.

CANNES – Lukas Dhont’s second feature, “Close,” starts off where most love stories end, and, in that respect, it begins with almost euphoric joy. Leo (Eden Dambrine) and Remi (Gustav De Waele) are the best of friends.

Given the combustible subject matter and the director’s reputation, French auteur Claire Denis has made a remarkably listless and unpersuasive film in Stars at Noon. Set during the Nicaraguan Sandanista revolution circa 1984, this adaptation of Denis Johnson’s novel published two years later centers on a couple of Americans of dubious character who misspend time in Central America before finally deciding it’s time to split when, in fact, it might be too late. This is the sort of misfire that, just because it comes from a hallowed French auteur, sometimes gets programmed in the Cannes competition even when it manifestly doesn’t deserve to be there.

Nostalgia has seldom looked grittier, or more treacherous, than it does in Mario Martone’s eponymous new film. The Italian director splashes his teaming, boisterous, unruly native city of Naples across the screen in fulsome fashion in telling the story of a man who left as a teenager but, some 40 years later, is drawn back into its sinister embrace.

You can pretty much bet that whenever the Dardenne brothers show up with a new film in Cannes, it will walk away with some sort of prize. That has been the case since 1999 when their first competition film, Rosetta swooped in at the last minute and won the Palme d’Or and Best Actress. They won a second Palme d’Or in 2005 for The Child, the Grand Jury Prize in 2011 for Kid With A Bike, Screenplay in 2008 for Lorna’s Silence, and Director in 2019 for Young Ahmed. No matter what the jury, the Dardennes continue to impress, yet none of their films has ever brought them an Oscar nomination. 2011’s Two Days, One Night did get a surprise Best Actress nomination for Marion Cotillard but that has been it.

Out in the jungle, no one can hear you dragging a body around. Mind you, nobody notices much what you do in the city, either. Colombian director Andres Ramirez Pulido’s debut feature, La Jauria, screening in Critics’ Week at Cannes, opens with a grab-bag of images familiar from current Latin American cinema — a couple of teenage boys in neon-lit urban darkness, some elaborate sniffing and nose-wiping, a bike that shouts “stolen” as they careen down a highway — but soon detours into stranger and much more remote territory. One thing you can be sure of: wherever they are, these boys are going to be in trouble.

Detective Hae-joon investigating the death of a man who fell from a mountain top. When he meets the deceased man’s wife in Park Chan-wook’s latest film in competition at Cannes, Decision To Leave.  

Understandably, the terrorist attacks in Paris on the night of November 13, 2015 have been treated with great sensitivity by the French film industry, and the only other film in the Cannes Film Festival’s lineup this year to touch on those events — Alice Winocour’s Paris Revoir — is a lightly fictionalized drama set in the aftermath of the night 130 people were killed, most of them at a rock concert at the city’s Bataclan nightclub. Though many names have been changed, for obvious security reasons, Cedric Jimenez’s Novembre is, by contrast, a heavy-artillery just-the-facts-ma’am police procedural detailing the manhunt that followed in the next five days.

Timing can be cruel. Norwegian director Kristoffer Borgli’s second feature, Sick Of Myself, has the misfortune to arrive in the Cannes Film Festival’s Un Certain Regard section in the slipstream of Ruben Östlund’s divisive but funny competition title Triangle of Sadness; the latter being a broader, sillier but much more brutal dissection of class and culture. Sick Of Myself also has to compete with the unexpected longevity of fellow countryman Joachim Trier’s hit The Worst Person In The World, which last year went from the Cannes competition all the way to the Oscars.

For his directing debut after brother Joel’s first solo outing with The Tragedy of Macbeth, Ethan Coen has chosen a similar saga of ruthless ambition and soul-devouring guilt, telling the rise and fall — and rise again — of Jerry Lee Lewis, from farmer’s son to rock’n’roll idol.

“Sexism is everywhere — so are we.” It’s just one of many slogans plastered across the streets of France in the timely documentary Feminist Riposte (Riposte Féministe) which is in the Special Screenings section at Cannes. Filmmakers Marie Perennès and Simon Depardon follow 10 groups of women around the country who are protesting about harassment, rape, femicide — and about the police response to these crimes. “Les flics” — aka the cops — are a silent force in this film, policing protests with grim faces. This is about giving a voice to the young women, recording their dialogue about the cause.

If you’re the parent of a kid who’s thinking about becoming an actor, nothing could be scarier than watching Forever Young (Les Amandiers).

Sometimes it hardly matters whether we know a story is based on truth or not. Watching Ali Abbasi’s thunderously damning Holy Spider, on the other hand, it drives a wedge into your mind knowing that a serial killer really did terrorize the Iranian holy city of Mashhad in the early 2000s, that he killed 16 street prostitutes, that there were police who conspired to help him escape and that there were people in Iran — a lot of people, he keeps assuring his family — who were on the murderer’s side. He was doing God’s work.

this long in an industrial bakery watching the two managers fill out EU grant applications?Soon enough the corners come together and the shape becomes more clear as the part-Roma, part-German Matthias (Marin Grigore) returns to his native Transylvania town either to make amends with his estranged wife Ana (Macrina Barladeanu) or, failing that, to rekindle the flame with former mistress Csilla (Judith State). By way of filial duties, Matthias also has to deal with an ailing father (whose need for an MRI — RMN in Romanian — gives the film its title) and a son too shell-shocked by that unknown forest sight to speak.But the film is just as much Csilla’s story, following the native Hungarian as she carves out a comfortable middle-class existence, devoting herself to her EU-assisted startup and sacrificing whatever personal projects she might have in order to gain affluence in a post-industrial town whose long-shuttered mine has left both water source and the hearts of the men who lost their jobs poisoned for good.Even as the “who” comes sharper into focus, we still can’t quite crack the “why.” Why do we follow Matthias through a seemingly aimless series of encounters as he and his fellow townsfolk debate the finer points of Romanian history? Why do we spend so much time with Csilla as she posts a series of job listings (“Don’t mention the salary,” advises her boss) on every door in town?  And why the urgent need to underline every character’s particular ethnic background?The answer — call it a skeleton key — comes at the one-hour mark upon the arrival of three Sri Lankan migrants to fill the still-vacant posts.

CANNES – It may seem obvious, but sometimes combining two compelling stories doesn’t lead to an overall more captivating film. That’s the primary takeaway from Gina Gammell and Riley Keough‘s somewhat messy “War Pony,” which debuted at the 2022 Cannes Film Festival this weekend.

An adoptee explores her Korean roots in Return To Seoul, Davy Chou’s engaging drama premiering at Cannes in Un Certain Regard. Newcomer Park Ji-Min plays the magnificently complex Freddie, who was raised in France and has impetuously decided to spend a couple of weeks in the country of her birth.

Longtime Cannes Film Festival favorite Cristian Mungiu has returned to the competition once again with a potent look at multi-ethnic strains and divides in a small Transylvanian town in R.M.N. As ever, the writer-director works intimately and close to the ground with his handful of characters who struggle to keep themselves and their barely-getting-by community afloat in changing times. It’s a kind of close-up-and-personal look at contemporary issues in an area not often dramatized or in the news, which adds to the film’s fresh and urgent feel.