‘Squaring the Circle’ Film Review: Music Meets Image in Stylish Rock Documentary

Jessica Kiang There are no flirtations with the fourth wall in Frances O’Connor’s “Emily.” There is no synthpop on the soundtrack. No one ranks the relative attractiveness of the Brontë sisters on a scale out of 10, or attempts, bustle be damned, to twerk. Yet despite lacking all markers of the recent trend for girlbossified costume drama, the directorial debut from O’Connor — an actor who is no stranger to corsetry herself after “Mansfield Park” and “The Importance of Being Earnest” — gives us a strikingly current take on the Brontë behind “Wuthering Heights.” Unlike many a literary biopic, it feels anything but pagebound. If “Emily” were a book, however, it would be a fresh reissue of a Penguin Classic, with its timeless orange cover unobtrusively updated to be crisp and covetable all over again. 

could he? And even if he can sign on with a freighter taking cargo to Southeast Asia, what can he do when he gets to Saigon?He embarks on the trip at least partly because nobody he knows thinks he’ll actually do it, and he bumbles his way around Vietnam with a bag full of beer that dispenses so many cans of Pabst Blue Ribbon it starts to feel like a cross between a clown car and Jesus’s loaves and fishes. (Chickie and his pals, Catholics all, would either appreciate or be offended by the Jesus comparison.)The point of the movie, of course, is what Chickie learns in Vietnam — that it’s a quagmire, that the good guys and bad guys aren’t as clear-cut as they might have seemed back at the bar, and that Americans are being lied to about what’s happening by their government. But to learn his lessons, he’s got to find his way around a good chunk of Vietnam, hitching rides on military helicopters because the top brass figures that he must be CIA, since a civilian can’t really be wandering around in country.

Endlessness might be the right word for viewers in 2022, given the conflicts that still wrack the globe more than 100 years after the events in this film.)“All Quiet on the Western Front” starts with the bucolic landscape of Western Europe in 1917; we know we’re in for carnage, but first we see hills and trees, clouds sitting in a pink-tinged sky, fog slipping through the woods. It’s a technique Berger and his cinematographer James Friend return to again and again, deliberately placing their story in a world that would look like paradise if not for the blood squabbles of humans.And “All Quiet” doesn’t give us time to bask in that beauty; before long, we’re in a short, brutal battle, and then the ground is littered with dead bodies.

A few minutes before the North American premiere of “Freedom on Fire: Ukraine’s Fight for Freedom,” director Evgeny Afineesvky summed up his state of mind in a single word: “exhausted.”That makes sense, because “Freedom on Fire” screened at the Toronto International Film Festival about six months after Afineevsky and his team began working on it, barely more than a month after its final footage was filmed and only a few weeks after Helen Mirren recorded narration for a scene that comes early in the documentary.For Afineevsky, who landed Oscar and Emmy nominations for 2015’s “Winter on Fire: Ukraine’s Fight for Freedom,” this sequel of sorts was made in a six-month rush, including just three months of editing after Russian forces invaded Ukraine in February of this year. “The urgency of the movie,” the Russian-born director told the audience before the Tuesday morning TIFF screening, “is to not neglect the situation right now.”Certainly, urgency is a hallmark of “Freedom on Fire,” a harrowing document shot by dozens of people inside Ukrainian cities as the Russian army conducted a bombing campaign and an invasion that seemingly targeted civilians, despite Vladimir Putin’s claims that Russia was there to “demilitarize” and “denazify” the country, and to somehow “free” it – though as more than one person in the film points out, the Russian offensive has resulted in ordinary citizens being freed from their lives, their homes, their families.The director’s first film about Ukraine, “Winter on Fire,” was an on-the-ground look at the 2013-2014 Maidan uprising, in which student protests against the Russian-backed president drew a brutal response but resulted in the removal of the president.

somewhere to recuperate, Lindsay heads to her mother’s house in New Orleans, where mom has a boyfriend, uncertain hours and a taste for booze that her daughter doesn’t share. Not suited to sitting at home, Lindsay gets a job cleaning pools, then befriends James (Henry), the owner of a car repair joint and a man whose marriage ended badly some years earlier.Their friendship grows slowly and moves with easy Crescent City rhythms.

At first pass, “The Woman King” recalls those classic Disney animated fables. Though inspired by real-life warriors who guarded the Kingdom of Dahomey in 19th-century West Africa, the film hits many familiar notes: Ancient mythical land! Palace intrigue! Rebellious orphan! Tough-love mentors! Coming of age! Prince charming! Wicked villain! Good vs. evil showdown! It’s just that here, the tropes aren’t metaphors at all and the story isn’t an allegory. In the Sony Pictures release that premiered on Friday night at the Toronto International Film Festival, Oscar winner Viola Davis stars as General Nanisca, commander of the Agojie, an all-female army, and adviser to the young King Ghezo (John Boyega), who has recently ascended to the throne.

does, relying on more dynamic, albeit repetitive, scenes of her having to address the danger in her life.Much attention has been paid to Hillary and Chelsea Clinton’s executive-producing role in the film, a fitting match for a documentary on a female politician struggling against the status quo. Ghafari rages against the system in question, but one glance at her office and her peers, and it’s easy to see that her staff consists of mostly men.

something to come of this chance encounter, anything to buoy her or tether her to this world.For the most part, “True Things” is a depiction of this ebb and flow between Kate and Blond. He’s a man almost of her own imagination, rarely if ever integrating himself into her life outside of their clandestine meet-ups. She goes with him to a party; he ghosts.

lot, “Rocketman” set out to be true not in a literal sense but only in an emotional one (and was all the better for making its fakery transparent), and “Elvis” was a freewheeling mixture of semi-reality and extravagant fantasy.So if it’s the case that regular rock biopics are weird, what of one whose title begins with the word weird? It certainly doesn’t figure to be one for the nitpickers (which at times have definitely included me) who point out that a song is in the wrong place chronologically or that this character is a composite or that so-and-so never did such-and-such.Questions like that don’t mean a damn thing when it comes to “Weird: The Al Yankovic Story,” a churning and very entertaining load of poppycock that makes not the slightest pretense of being an accurate retelling of the story of everybody’s favorite song parodist, Weird Al Yankovic.In fact, the whole point is that it isn’t accurate, that it’s a whacked-out alternate reality in which young Al got his first accordion after his father beat a door-to-door accordion salesman to a bloody pulp, Michael Jackson’s “Beat It” was a parody of Weird Al’s “Eat It” and Madonna (played by Evan Rachel Wood with gum-snapping zest) was both Al’s girlfriend and a murderous psychopath.The film, directed by Eric Appel, produced by Funny or Die and distributed by Roku, takes Weird Al’s approach to music – take a well-known song and change the words to make them funnier – and applies it to the rock biopic.

“Don’t Worry Darling” is a mixture of “The Stepford Wives” and “Get Out” is both accurate and deeply misleading. It’s accurate because Olivia Wilde’s satiric and somewhat frantic psychological thriller does borrow from films like “Stepford,” where an idealized community is one in which the women are dolls designed for male satisfaction, and “Get Out,” which uses horror trappings to grapple with timely issues of power and privilege.

It may be the most famous album cover ever created.

“What do ya expect?”The film sinks into the atmosphere of beautiful desolation on the island, with its hardscrabble existence, its sense of community, its cows wandering between green fields bordered by stone walls, its impromptu renditions of fiddle reels and folk tunes like “I’m a Man You Don’t Meet Every Day.” You anticipate some kind of explosion because this is Martin McDonagh, but before it arrives the low-key, gentle pace is richly satisfying, and the conversations between Pádraic and Colm (or the lack of conversations, when Colm gets his way) are a delight. Farrell and Gleeson are born to the rhythms of McDonagh’s dialogue, which seems both precise and tossed off, and the casual connection between them is never less than sheer pleasure.Eventually, Colm delivers a gruesome ultimatum of what he’ll do if Pádraic speaks to him again.