You Hurt My Feelings

 

Writer/director Nicole Holofcener

Holofcener with Julia Louis-Dreyfus

YOU HURT MY FEELINGS             C                                                                                    USA  (93 mi)  2023  d: Nicole Holofcener

The whole world is falling apart, and this is what’s consuming you?                                          —Don (Tobias Menzies)

In an era where it’s often hard to distinguish an actual movie from television, as they’ve become one and the same, this leans decisively towards the world of television, never once actually feeling like a movie, more like a sitcom, as there’s nothing cinematic about it and instead seems designed to be seen on a small screen instead of a theater, which does not enhance the viewing experience.  From the maker of Enough Said (2013), starring Seinfeld’s own Julia Louis-Dreyfus and The Soprano’s star James Gandolfini in his final film role, it does not appear that the passage of time has done anything to improve the abilities of this director, though in her films dating struggles have now given way to parenting problems, yet there’s simply nothing imaginative about the story or the way it’s presented, where this just feels like something written exclusively for television, as it’s only mildly entertaining and largely forgettable.  Premiering at the Sundance Film Festival in 2023, the premise of the film happens to be that writers tend to be extremely insecure, where the least little criticism can send them into an emotional tailspin that sends them over the edge, questioning their talent and self-worth, always seeking personal validation, revealing our own deeply embedded insecurities in how much we value the approval of others.  Julia Louis-Dreyfus is Beth, a writer who is struggling to follow up on her last effort, which was a somewhat successful memoir about the verbal abuse she received from her father, now delving into the world of fiction with her first novel, which feels much more open-ended, like a world that’s harder to crack, and it’s causing her all kinds of anxiety and self-doubt.  Beth is also a creative writing instructor, leading a small class of would-be writers, encouraging them to read fragments of their work, exploring ideas and materials, where her role is offering creative support, even after she hilariously discovers they have never read her work.  Her husband Don (Tobias Menzies), on the other hand, is a psychotherapist, like Nanni Moretti in The Son's Room (La stanza del figlio) (2001), but finds himself alienated from his clients, whose problems interest him less and less, discovering he is less engaged, where he actually mixes up the personal histories of his patients.  Together, however, they have that happy marriage, part of New York’s middle class in Manhattan, where the city itself is a character that weaves in and out of the storyline.  Raised on the Upper West Side, Holofcener grew up as an extra on the sets of Woody Allen’s TAKE THE MONEY AND RUN (1969) and SLEEPER (1973) before working as a production assistant for A Midsummer Night's Sex Comedy (1982) and assistant editor on Hannah and Her Sisters (1986), while her mother Carol Joffe was Allen’s frequent set decorator, and her stepfather Charles H. Joffe was the executive producer for fifty years of Allen’s films, placing her smack dab in the middle of a burgeoning New York City arts scene, where she was taught by none other than Martin Scorsese at Columbia University’s film school.  Much of Holofcener’s work has a realistic yet satiric style, most of it shot on location, where she seems to have built a career around superfluous characters and stunted emotional growth, creating a comedy of manners that examines the lives of the upper middle bourgeoisie, often intellectual, and from a female perspective, making seven features, though most of her work has come in television. 

While Holofcener likes to complain that nobody has seen her films, with critics suggesting that not much happens in her films, which may be filled with “little daily dramas,” or what Beth describes as her “little narcissistic world,” and while plot may not be her strong suit, much more focus is spent on character and dialogue.  Still, much like the central character in this film, she may have insecurities about her work, where the things people say matter, though in the bigger picture she may overlook much of the criticism, but when it comes from her inner circle, that makes all the difference.  Julia Louis-Dreyfus is one of the most successful comedic actresses in television history, bringing a silliness, a quirkiness, and most of all an intelligence when it comes to her screen roles, blending emotional authenticity with a heavy dose of irreverence, with Holofcener writing the part with her in mind.  While Beth is comfortable visiting bookstores, she has a habit of trying to move the location of her books into a more prominent position, offering greater accessibility to the public, which is viewed as small-minded and petty, thinking exclusively of herself, showing little regard for the other authors.  And though she has painfully been going through the rewrites on her novel, she is disappointed to learn that her publisher believes it is still in need of many more rewrites before it’s ready for publishing, immediately thinking of herself as a failure, second guessing her every move.  Her 23-year old son Eliot (Owen Teague) is a budding playwright, feeling the pressure of having a writer for a mother, unable to realize his own writing ambitions, so he works in a low-key job as a store clerk in a cannabis store, which causes his mother endless worry, as it attracts a fringe element of lowlifes and derelicts, where the lone security guard looks asleep half the time.  Beth’s sister Sarah (Michaela Watkins) is an interior designer, but faces constant rejection from demanding upscale clients, spending her days scouring the Upper West and East sides searching for just the right products, where the callousness of her clients matches the tastelessness of their choices.  Her husband Mark (Arian Moayed) is a budding actor who never seems to find work, always on the verge of professional failure, but he hangs around the fringes of the industry hoping something falls his way.  What seems apparent, however, is that everyone is suffocating from their own mediocrity.  A common thread is watching a cyclical rotation of Don’s patients, none of whom seem to get any better, perhaps best represented by real-life married couple Amber Tamblyn and David Cross in the first time they’ve appeared in a film together, who hold little love for each other, yet are inseparable, as they can’t live without complaining about their partners.  A familiar refrain that runs through this picture is an utter dissatisfaction with their work, which has a way of feeling existentially soul-crushing, mirroring the anxieties they feel about growing older, as they’re not as young and cute as they used to be, where small satisfactions loom larger, yet they can’t shake the fear that impending mortality lies around every corner.  

What really sets the wheels in motion, however, is Beth accidentally overhearing a discussion between Don and Mark, where her husband honestly confesses he really didn’t like the latest work she’s written, which hits her like a ton of bricks, as he’s been her staunchest supporter.  They’re the kind of married couple that finishes each other’s sentences, sharing one another’s food, even licking from the same ice cream cone, which drives their son nuts, finding it disgusting.  Considering the reliability of the source, feeling utterly betrayed, she falls into a depression, turning a cold shoulder, avoiding him like the plague, but refuses to share what’s on her mind, instead allowing it fester, growing passive-aggressive, where she just grows angrier and more indignant.  Her entire relationship is shaken, not knowing who to trust anymore, as the foundation of their marriage has suddenly been exposed as a lie, losing all sense of equilibrium.  None of the characters are fully developed, feeling more like caricatures, yet they continue to utter smart-assed remarks for comic value, feeling very hit or miss, where the only one in the entire film that feels real is Beth’s aging mother Georgia, played by the great Jeannie Berlin, daughter of Elaine May and so powerful in Kenneth Lonergan’s 2011 Top Ten Films of the Year #2 Margaret, as her dialogue never feels forced or couched in comedy, sounding very much like a proud Jewish mother who wants the best for her children, even as they’ve grown into fledgling adults, still filled with the same insecurities and deficiencies they had in childhood, but they’ve also developed much greater intelligence and talent.  She’s insistent that Beth’s publisher hasn’t done a good job marketing her book, urging her to seek out another, convinced that her daughter is a great writer.  And she could easily be, but you’d never know it, as none of the characters are internalized or self-reflective, feeling very surface level, where the film is a series of incidents that only exacerbate the differences and commonalities between us, where the things that drive us apart also bring us together, where there’s a thin line between love and hate.  Julia Louis-Dreyfus is the center of the picture, with everything revolving around her, and, as always, she’s commercially appealing, observant of those around her, like a stand-in for the director, where this single incident has made her question everything in their relationship, dredging up the past, where suddenly everything is seen in a new and different light.  Everyone feels the need to be valued, in all aspects of our existence, where doubt, or silence, upsets our feelings.  A film about trust, lies, and the things we say to the people we love most, where encouragement is not always supported by the truth, oftentimes hiding our true feelings with little white lies, yet offering our full support, irrespective of how we feel, is what matters most, as we want the best out of those closest to us.  None of this is revelatory or earth-shaking, or particularly profound, but it’s ensconced in a feel-good air of white-privileged, middle class contentment.

Black Bag

 

Director Steven Soderbergh

Soderbergh behind the camera

Soderbergh on the set with Michael Fassbender

Soderbergh with screenwriter David Koepp

screenwriter David Koepp

musical composer David Holmes

BLACK BAG             B+                                                                                                             USA  (93 mi)  2025  d: Steven Soderbergh

Whatever you may say about the films of Steven Soderbergh, one thing you can count on is that they will be stylishly entertaining, in this case like being immersed in the middle of a John Le Carré spy novel.  The maker of SEX, LIES, AND VIDEOTAPE (1989), one of the most influential catalysts of the 1990’s independent film movement, leading to Out of Sight (1998), The Limey (1999), and Traffic (2000), which remain among Soderbergh’s best films, all made at the height of his creative peak, yet this feels more along the lines of Haywire (2011), moving invisibly through a world of espionage, double agents, government cover ups, and secret identities, where the one certainty is never trusting anyone.  Soderbergh indicated he wanted this film to feel like the espionage version of Mike Nichols’ Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf? (1966), but it doesn’t have that kind of verbal pyrotechnics, as it’s much too sublimated for that, avoiding the high-octane action sequences typical of spy thrillers, instead there’s a unique focus on the interior psychology of the characters, where it actually feels more like an Agatha Christie novel, a spy thriller that’s also an interpersonal relationship movie, with a terrific ensemble cast that continuously plays mind games with each other, where Soderbergh’s bag of tricks is in stark contrast to Tomas Alfredson’s much more somber and subdued Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy (2011).  Given the state of the world at the moment, where lying and disinformation have become the new normal, with nations sabotaging and undermining their own people to prevent the truth from ever coming out, we are living by new rules of engagement, where we suddenly find ourselves mired in a labyrinthian sci-fi dystopia, where we may never see the light of day, as the odds are continually stacked against us, with Soderbergh having a little fun at our expense, poking holes in our perceived covers, twisting the knife in what was once conceived as an open democracy.  Nowadays all bets are off, with this film demonstrating just how convoluted and confusing it has become, with the power brokers dangling the strings, making us believe whatever the hell they want us to believe, closing off all avenues of the real truth, while wrapping it all up in a mirage of freedom and democracy.  Having written three of the director’s last four movies, including his minimalist ghost story PRESENCE (2024), released just two months ago, the ridiculously talented and successful screenwriter David Koepp has written more than thirty feature films, including a wide variety of genres, with U.S. box office receipts grossing over $2.6 billion, making him the fourth most successful American screenwriter of all time (Top Grossing Screenwriter at the Domestic Box Office), though evaluating who is “best” is another story (The 100 Best Screenwriters of All Time), consulting with actual spies to write this movie, which is simply immersed in the culture of keeping secrets, which extends into personal relationships, including marriage, where confidential things that are off-limits for discussion are kept in a “black bag.”  That’s the amusing premise for the film, with Soderbergh having fun subverting genre expectations, becoming a puzzle piece that turns into fun and games, where if you can lie about everything, then how do you tell the truth about anything?  Perhaps unintentionally, that’s the real dilemma of living in America at the moment, where it’s like living under the Russian KGB, as everything is filtered through a wall of authoritative threats and manipulated disinformation.  Lies and cover-ups, along with a blatantly racist disregard for even the barest trace of historical diversity, are the cultural cornerstones that have literally replaced truth and honesty in American politics, the exact opposite of the Watergate era of the 1970’s, which opened a new door of ethics reform along with journalistic integrity and transparency.          

Using chapter headings counting down the days, one by one, this moody, atmospheric film is driven by a remarkable soundtrack written by Irish musician David Holmes, who has written the music for dozens of films going back to Soderbergh’s Out of Sight working with the director on and off for decades, Black Bag 2025 Soundtrack | Black Bag - David Holmes ... YouTube (1:09).  The super-modern, stylish look of the film is captured by none other than the director as cinematographer, working under a lifelong pseudonym Peter Andrews, while also editing the film under the pseudonym Mary Ann Bernard, where the sterile rooms and office spaces of Britain’s National Cyber Security Centre (NCSC) are void of color or personality, much of it mimicking the sepia tones of David Fincher’s Se7en (1995), swamped by an uneasiness that persists throughout, like an underlying gloom that permeates through every character.  In a superbly constructed opening sequence filled with suspense, the camera follows British intelligence office George Woodhouse (Michael Fassbender) in a Scorsese-like, single-take opening shot through the underground walkways of an upscale, carefully guarded London nightclub, leading to a private VIP vaping room, with darkness saturating every frame, as his superior, Mr. Meacham (Gustaf Skarsgård), contends “There’s a stranger in our house,” ordering him to investigate a leak in the intelligence service, specifically the theft of a top secret cyberweapon code-named Severus, a biological weapon capable of killing thousands, where one of the five suspects who have access to it is his wife, Kathryn (Cate Blanchett), given one week to find the culprit before it activates.  Adding to the intrigue, Meacham is poisoned and killed by morning, made to look like a heart attack, with a covert murder operation suddenly infiltrating the picture, where clearly there is trouble in the ranks.  Something of a twisty cat and mouse tale, perhaps the oddest juxtaposition is an early scene of the Woodhouse’s hosting a dinner party inviting all the suspects to their swanky townhouse, including a smug intelligence analyst Freddie Smalls (Tom Burke) and his sharp and savvy girlfriend Clarrisa Dubose (Marisa Abela), a junior agent and cyber technology expert, also the ever-observant, in-house psychiatrist Dr. Zoe Vaughn (Naomie Harris) and her dapperly dressed, recently promoted, second-in-command boyfriend Col. James Stokes (Regé-Jean Page).  This social gathering with fellow spies allows George to secretly place a psychotropic drug in the curry, lowering their inhibitions, creating an opportunity to observe their reactions, as interactions among the group frequently spark subtle shifts in the mood, where a brief glance, a subtle change in tone, or a hesitant remark speaks volumes, enriching the overall fabric of the narrative.  This opportunity allows secrets to be revealed, most of a private nature, exposing cracks and infidelities in each relationship, where a culture trained to deceive simply makes cheating too easy, growing very testy with one another, often driven by their own personal ambitions, featuring stellar dialogue that is delivered at a crisp pace, almost like a screwball comedy, Black Bag Movie Clip - Nothing I Couldn't Handle (2025) YouTube (1:04), recalling the infamous dinner parties hosted by married couple Nick and Nora Charles, a romantically involved detective duo known for their witty banter in W.S. Van Dyke’s THE THIN MAN (1934), where the dinner invite was a glamorous way to flush out the decisive clues to solve a case.  Outing Freddie as a serial cheater, George meticulously details his predictable sexual promiscuity, a provocation that prompts Clarissa to furiously retaliate by stabbing him on his hand with a steak knife.  Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.  While it’s a brilliantly conceived scene, allowing deeply repressed emotions to suddenly erupt to the surface, it also sets the stage for what follows, exposing what has to be the ultimate in workplace romances with the potential for dire consequences, as we’re dealing with clandestine operations that rarely see the light of day, so the film literally toys with the possibilities, poking fun of the somber nature of the business, but also cleverly finding humor at every turn with witty insinuations and quick retorts.       

The sanctity of marriage is broken when George finds a theater ticket stub in his wife’s trash, contradicting her version of events, so he breaks into her office and learns she’s secretly traveling to Zurich without telling him, testing the loyalty to his wife or his country.  His response, completely reflective of their power dynamic, is one of the more ingeniously conceived, diabolically clever scenes of the film, requiring the expertise of Clarissa to redirect a spy satellite while deceiving the agency’s satellite video screens, watched like a hawk by the man in charge, a silver-haired Pierce Brosnan (a playful take on his late 90’s version of 007 himself!) as Arthur Steiglitz, going offscreen for a mere minute or so to allow George to spy on his wife in Zurich meeting someone of interest, a hilarious example of the extent marital partners are willing to go to find out what they want about the other, Black Bag Movie Clip - It's the Only Way - video Dailymotion YouTube (45 seconds), where the wrinkle is a split-second glitch exposing their shenanigans, a subliminal moment and potentially disastrous occurrence that could expose his dirty tricks.  This marital relationship is at the heart of the picture, as it thrives on secrets and lies, yet relies upon trust, a kind of marriage that is unique to cinema, held together by a mutual understanding of the lies they live in, where the wheels of power are forever changing, as both are deliberate, smooth, rarely cracking a smile, where a certain frostiness and cold precision is required in their profession.  George is a cold and clinical character, robotic, seemingly inhuman, like an A.I. invention, never revealing an inner life, yet super intelligent, as his views are rarely challenged, while Kathryn is more socially amenable, a master of disguise moving about with an icy calmness, with a wardrobe right out of Todd Haynes’ 2015 Top Ten List #6 Carol, where her natural disposition tends to put people at ease, allowing her to more easily gain people’s trust, including her husband, but the open question is whether there’s been a breach in their marriage, and whether she’s undermined official state secrets, becoming that mole in their midst.  This see-saw affair of shifting perspectives is the engine that generates the understated power of the picture, where everyone’s a suspect, yet the more George investigates, the more all the clues lead to his wife, delving into moral complications, yet what’s a spy thriller without the spies spying on each other?  When George and Kathryn compare notes and suspect they’re being set up, using each against the other, George shrewdly conducts polygraphs tests that mix the personal with the professional, anything to make each suspect feel precariously offguard, yet his interview with Clarissa, with Abela stealing every scene she’s in, is drop dead hilarious, as she’s devised bizarre methods to beat the test, which truly impresses the usually unflappable George, who is supposedly unparalleled in the art of psychological manipulation, taking this into unfamiliar territory while adding a bit of spice to the mix, Black Bag Exclusive Movie Clip - Polygraph Tests (2025) YouTube (59 seconds).  This sequence is cleverly edited, moving rapidly between agents, merging the personalities of everyone involved, like a musical crescendo, leading to yet another classic dinner sequence designed to catch the culprit, with Kathryn remarking, “It’s been a while since we’ve had a traitor to dinner, at least knowingly,” Black Bag | Official Clip | Cate Blanchett, Michael Fassbender YouTube (1:06), a wonderful return to form for Soderbergh, whose cinematic sophistication really shines.  Something of a throwback to those paranoid conspiracy flicks of the 1970’s, deliciously entertaining at every turn, this is masterful filmmaking, immersing viewers in a sordid universe that we are typically excluded from, yet here we’re given a front row seat in what is easily one of Soderbergh’s best films in years.