THE CAST – Chiara Aurelia, Morgan Spector, Zach Cherry, Michelle Mao, Jordan Hull, Olivia Rouyre, Emily Shaffer, Christian Lees & Jonah Lees

THE TEAM – Lindsay Calleran (Director/Writer)

THE RUNNING TIME – 103 Minutes

As anyone who’s experienced strife in their personal life can attest, the world doesn’t stop just because things get difficult. Every day, people clock into work, go on dates, and hang out with friends before returning home to sickness, conflict, and addiction. It’s a tricky balance that, over time, can strangely equalize and feel normal. “Caity,” the affecting and highly personal film from writer-director Lindsay Calleran, explores this uncanny dynamic. It’s an addiction story that both skirts the typical, well-worn beats of such a drama while also making unoriginal narrative choices so excellent that it’s hard to object to their inclusion. It’s truthful and painful, but never too heavy as to be an exhausting watch, thanks in part to the honest, powerful performances of the talented cast.

Chiara Aurelia plays the titular role, a young woman living at home with her parents (Emily Shaffer and “The Gilded Age’s” Morgan Spector) in upstate New York. As the film opens, autumn approaches, which means it’s time for the family to do what they do every year: turn their property into a popular haunted house, bringing on a host of employees in the process. It’s clearly a tradition that the family fully embraces, and Caity’s dad, Paul, takes it extremely seriously. To him, assembling gags involving smoke machines and fake bugs, and putting together gory costumes, is both fun and something he fully invests himself in. It also serves as a good distraction from his troubles, namely his addictions. He’s an alcoholic going through the steps of monitored sobriety with the support of his family. But as Caity prepares for another season of scaring her neighbors, a few things change that assure that this will not just be a typical fall. Namely, a new employee named Hannah (Jordan Hull) immediately catches Caity’s eye, leading to her taking on new behaviors (some admirable, but most ill-advised) in order to catch Hannah’s attention. At the same time, she and her mom must keep an eye on Paul with a degree of loving skepticism, for his own good.

The haunted house setting isn’t just an immediately captivating hook for the film. It reflects the way that a troubling human development, like Paul’s alcoholism, can become normalized to those who are around it all the time. Meanwhile, anyone who temporarily enters the family’s inner circle from the outside is likely to have a more concerned reaction to the situation. In that same way, the haunted attraction, which is a place of inherent fear for its paying customers, is just another workplace for those who work there every day. In fact, there’s even comfort to be found in the blood and guts, in the same way that a person facing addiction can be satiated by a routine involving destructive substances. The setting externalizes and physicalizes the feeling of becoming accustomed to difficult domestic circumstances, and Calleran wisely never draws overt attention to this smart expository choice.

This avoidance of notable directorial flourishes doesn’t extend to Calleran’s filmmaking decisions. Joe Stankus’ editing makes excellent use of split screens and dual images displayed simultaneously. Most effectively, this is used in key moments to show both what Caity is observing and her facial reaction to said point of observation. This first occurs when she meets Hannah, showing that, despite being in the middle of a team meeting, Caity’s eyes are fixated on her new co-worker. And later in the film, during a scene where the stakes suddenly escalate, overlapping screen images disorient the audience, reflecting Caity’s headspace. In this instance and in other scenes of instability, the sound mix distorts from reality, twisting and changing pitch to capture a powerful feeling of losing control. And Jack Davis’ cinematography perfectly captures the natural splendor of rural upstate New York in the fall; the sight of the sun setting on a local lake is particularly gorgeous.

Leading the film, Aurelia demonstrates a strong command of her craft. She’s unafraid to emphasize Caity’s less-than-admirable qualities, like her short temper, but her screen presence assures that she’s never anything less than compelling. As her troubled father, Spector smartly avoids stereotypes associated with playing a character struggling with alcoholism. Instead, he effectively captures the behavior and unbothered demeanor of someone working to hide their addiction from their loved ones. But the true standout of the cast is Emily Shaffer as Caity’s mother, Robin. She’s tasked with perhaps the most expected moment for a film of this kind: the scene where the supportive spouse breaks down. Robin spends most of the film in the background, doing her best to ignore the growing signs that her husband is relapsing, until the truth becomes impossible to avoid. In the film’s dramatic highlight, she and Caity go to a restaurant, and Robin unloads her feelings about her husband onto her daughter. It’s one of the few instances where cliche comes to the forefront, but Shaffer’s delivery is so honest, so raw, so sympathetic, and so powerful that she holds viewers entirely in her spell.

“Caity” may not seem like anything new for domestic dramas on paper, but it’s in the smart execution – both from the director and the cast – that it feels revelatory. It’s telling that some of the most purely enjoyable moments in the film take place among shrieking animatronics and fake cobwebs; the characters have to face the reality that life isn’t always easy or pretty, but to fight against or ignore the demons around and within oneself is a surefire way to let them take over. It’s best to face them head-on and live with the knowledge of their existence, never letting them become the dominant force in one’s life.

The post “CAITY” appeared first on Next Best Picture.

THE CAST – Michelle Mao, Haley Lu Richardson & Jin Ha

THE TEAM – Kogonada (Director/Writer)

THE RUNNING TIME – 99 Minutes

It’s tough when an artist just doesn’t work for you. Oftentimes, it can feel like you’re the problem, especially when many respectable voices highly praise said artist. Such is the case with myself and Kogonada, the video essayist turned filmmaker. While I can recognize the unquestionable beauty of his patient, contemplative films “Columbus” and “After Yang,” something about their deliberate pacing and introspective dialogue keeps me at a distance (I skipped his latest film, the tepidly-received “A Big Bold Beautiful Journey,” altogether). But like any good cinephile, I’m always willing to give additional chances, and the enigmatic, supernatural-sounding plot description of his new film “zi” caught my attention. But alas, all of the qualities that make a Kogonada film unique and distinctly his are here. Which is to say, anyone who found themselves swept up in and enchanted by the stories and worlds he crafted in his past films will likely feel similarly about “zi,” but it won’t convert any skeptics.

The titular Zi is played by Michelle Mao. She’s a young woman in Hong Kong whom we meet at the start of the film, visiting her parents’ graves. And from an early phone call, it can be gleaned that she’s awaiting some sort of diagnosis to explain neurological issues she’s been having. Through her perspective, we quickly see what’s disturbing her: she keeps seeing visions of herself, but slightly removed from her current position and in the future. This premonistic ability leads Zi to El (Haley Lu Richardson), a young woman similarly wandering Hong Kong. El is an American dancer who, tired of receiving rejections at auditions, fled her home country. She approaches a distressed-looking Zi on the street, who claims to have seen El in the future. The concerned El attaches herself to Zi, hoping to help her and, maybe, herself at the same time.

From the very beginning, the film adopts a deadly serious tone. Every single thing every character says, no matter how far-fetched, is taken at face value by those they’re interacting with, and thus by the movie itself. Every line is cloaked in meaning, begging the audience to feel as profoundly about the characters’ circumstances as the characters do. This humorlessness is simply tiring and makes the film feel taxing, like getting stuck talking to a self-important freshman philosophy major at a college party. The meandering structure – both in the light plot and in the literal actions of the characters – calls to mind Kogonada’s first feature, “Columbus.” But that film at least used the framing device of the main characters’ shared appreciation for the unique modern architecture of Columbus, Indiana. This gave their ambling a purpose. Here, it’s a much more aimless outing. 

Every element of the film contributes to its melancholy feeling, including the sparse, sad (but admittedly pretty) musical selections. And as is always the case with Kogonada’s movies, it’s shot and cut with an inarguable beauty. Cinematographer Benjamin Loeb frames the characters against the concrete structures of Hong Kong, emphasizing their smallness amid the region’s vastness. Wide shots are especially effective when depicting Zi’s futuristic foresight, giving them an eerie quality. And the editing, done by Kogonada himself, swirls and stirs the narrative, making the audience feel as untethered to linear time as the main character.

Haley Lu Richardson is a frequent muse of Kogonada’s; this film marks their third collaboration after “Columbus” and “After Yang.” And clearly, the pair works well together. Richardson is fantastic, investing El with a bohemian energy that feels appropriate, given her artistic background. This helps sell her instant connection with Zi better than the writing does. Even if this isn’t perfectly explained, Richardson’s spirit helps make the fast bond feel less sudden and strange. Michelle Mao is a captivating presence as Zi, managing to make an underdeveloped character compelling. Jin Ha plays Min, a friend of El’s, and just like Mao, he does his best to make a flat character captivating. At least he gets a chance to show off his beautiful singing voice; it’s no wonder that he’s performed on Broadway.

Despite being well-shot and beautifully constructed, as all Kogonada films are, “zi” is a ponderous, rambling journey. Its director’s brand of deeply earnest, conversational movies, revolving more around characters exchanging ideas than a typical plot, may be a desired flavor for his fans. However, for others, such as this critic, he remains an acquired taste that’s still frustratingly unacquired.

The post “ZI” appeared first on Next Best Picture.