Motel Destino

Futuro Beach

 

Director Karim Aïnouz

director on the set

MOTEL DESTINO                B                                                                                            Brazil  France  Germany  Great Britain  (115 mi)  2024  d: Karim Aïnouz

Returning to Brazil in the post-Bolsonaro era after stints in Germany, Great Britain, and Algeria, queer Brazilian-Algerian director Karim Aïnouz drew inspiration for this film from a tradition of Brazilian cinema, the pornographic comedy (Pornochanchada), a very popular genre in the 70’s that had a distinct focus on the female anatomy, a lurid distraction from the brutal tactics of the oppressive Brazilian military dictatorship, giving rise to iconic actress Sônia Braga, who was the epitome of Brazilian films during the 70’s.  With films like Bruno Barreto’s sexually explicit yet comically lighthearted Doña Flor and Her Two Husbands (Doña Flor e Seus Dois Maridos) (1976), or Arnaldo Jabor’s I LOVE YOU (Eu Ye Amo) (1981), there were also the extremely popular Carlos Diegues films XICA (1976) and Bye Bye Brazil (Bye Bye Brasil) (1980), all films that rejoice in a liberated spirit while displaying a healthy attitude towards nudity and sex.  Working as assistant director to Todd Haynes in New York and Walter Salles in Rio de Janeiro, Aïnouz has made films with a distinct and innovative vision that transcends formal boundaries, where his first feature MADAME SATÃ (2002) was a trailblazing portrayal of a real-life black queer female impersonator and prolific street fighter, described by Film Quarterly as “a classic of queer cinema…well ahead of its time,” which was followed by The Silver Cliff (O Abismo Prateado) (2011), Futuro Beach (Praia do Futuro) (2014), and 2019 Top Ten List #4 Invisible Life (A Vida Invisível), works that range from experimental queer cinema to complex character studies and poetic explorations of family origins.  A Brazilian tropical neo-noir premiering at Cannes that’s defiantly sexy, sweaty, and dripping with spontaneous energy, this film recreates space in an innovative way, as the vibrantly seductive, neon-colored cinematography by Hélène Louvart, who has shot some of the more visually distinctive works, is nothing less than inspired, shot on 16mm and Super 8mm, making the stunning visuals the strongest asset of the film, creating a subterranean, crime-drenched atmosphere that seems to exist in its own lurid world, allowing viewers to bathe in the brightness of the oversaturated colors and lighting.  The sleazy sex motel setting of the film is like a central character, where the suffocating intimacy of desire is a prominent theme, questioning whether the marginalized characters are driven by their own circumstance or controlled by a fate they can’t escape, perhaps a reminder of the days of repression when people were forced to take refuge in the shadows of secretive places like this.

Written by Aïnouz with Wislan Esmeraldo and Mauricio Zacharias during the presidency of right-wing populist Jair Bolsonaro, this is set in Fortaleza, the site of Futuro Beach on the sunny ocean shores of Northeast Brazil, where hanging out at the beach is a foregone conclusion, as the blueness of the sea against the white sand always looks so inviting.  It’s there that we find beads of water and sweat glistening against the black skin of 21-year old Heraldo (Iago Xavier) and his older brother Jorge (Renan Capivara) frolicking in the waves, like little kids.  When Heraldo announces he wants to get out of town to look for work in São Paulo and start a new life, you might wonder why anyone would leave this idyllic paradise, but things are not what they seem, as the two brothers work for a crime boss Bambina (Fabiola Liper), who wants his debts paid before he leaves, so she orders them to pull off one last debt-collection job.  Seeking refuge in a local beach bar the night before, Heraldo finds himself charmed by a beautiful stranger (Isabela Catão), quickly making their way to a brightly-lit roadside sex motel, Motel Destino, that never closes and rents by the hour or even half-hour, only to discover he’s overslept (likely sedated) and been ripped off by the young woman, leaving him in a spot, scrambling to get to his brother, but he arrives too late, as Jorge was forced to carry off the job alone, leaving him shot and killed.  Having nowhere else to go, suddenly finding himself a fugitive needing to lay low for fear of retribution, he returns back to the Motel to hide out, curiously allowed entry by the owner’s wife Dayana (Nataly Rocha), who is intrigued to see him again after the desperate situation he found himself in earlier.  The volatile ex-cop owner Elias, (Fábio Assunção, a former soap opera heartthrob), finds work for him to do around the place, and the film essentially revolves around this single location, which is a seedy world of sex and pleasure, a sinner’s paradise, accompanied by huge amounts of alcohol consumption.  Heraldo proves himself a worthy handyman, easily fixing things that are broken, quickly gaining the confidence of Elias, with suggestions of homoeroticism.  One of the things that’s interesting is that the characters are dressed in little more than bathing suits for most of the film, implying comfort, ease, and relaxation, with plenty of nudity and sex, yet remains shrouded in moral ambiguity, where there’s also a relentless foreboding layer of danger that hovers over everything we see, with suspense building quietly, suggesting these seemingly disparate lives are somehow intertwined.

As if stuck in a state of inertia, where not much actually happens (viewers may drift off as well), a dangerous love triangle quickly escalates into an erotic thriller, yet this is mostly a lingering human relationships film that delves into the unsettling aspects of the characters, with Heraldo having a steamy affair with Dayana, who assumes the sultry Sônia Braga role, as we’re mostly confined to cramped quarters, long empty hallways or back rooms away from the prying eyes of Elias.  Perhaps it’s their situation of always living in the secrecy of isolation, where emotions are heightened, but a threatening danger is always hovering nearby, especially given the sexual voyeuristic effect of the Motel, with Elias frequently peering through the peepholes attached to each room, and the film’s abundant use of neon lights and surveillance footage, creating a saturated color palette, accompanied by the ambient sounds of moans and screams coming out of those rooms, along with an intentional use of outdoor animals who can also be seen fornicating.  The interior spaces of the Motel can be seen in quite literally a new light, where a sensory landscape blurs the boundaries between what’s real and imagined, as the film is primarily about depicting its characters’ insatiable desires, whether they be sexual or vengeful, with an electronic and techno-fused soundtrack composed by Amine Bouhafa and Benedikt Schiefer adding another layer of sensory overload.  Things quickly spill out of control when the oddly charismatic Elias celebrates his birthday with an alcohol-fused party sequence of the three of them together, but by then the frustrated Dayana has grown sick and tired of his violent and abusively domineering ways, pretending to placate his continually fluctuating moods by telling him what he wants to hear while secretly having eyes for Heraldo, both planning to escape together, where the dubious thought of killing Elias crosses their minds in an ode to Tay Garnett’s classic film noir The Postman Always Rings Twice (1946), but this plays out differently, more like a surrealistic dreamscape, spilling into a fever dream of emotional chaos and dread, where only fate can free them, building to a heavy synth-infused, strobe-aligned, electronic pulse rave conclusion with flashing lights that blast over the end credits.  One of the director’s comments was that this was specifically designed for the Cannes Film Festival theater screening, “It’s such a conservative space with people dressed up.  I wanted [the end credits] to burn down the Lumière!  There’s a sense of seriousness that’s so important to break.”

Anora

 

Writer/director Sean Baker

The director on the set

actress Mikey Madison

actors Yura Borisov and Mark Eidelstein

ANORA            C+                                                                                                                       USA  (139 mi)  2024 ‘Scope  d: Sean Baker

Today this could be                                                                                                                      The greatest day of our lives                                                                                                   Before it all ends                                                                                                                        Before we run out of time                                                                                                               Stay close to me                                                                                                                      Watch the world come alive tonight…

—released in 2008, Take That - Greatest Day (Single) YouTube (3:56)

A film about the putrid stench of toxic male patriarchy in both America and Russia, the two superpowers dominating the global landscape, told through an unlikely subject, a young female exotic dancer who thinks she’s hit the jackpot, the realization of all her dreams, only for that dream to be ruthlessly snatched away from her, like ripping her heart out.  In the 1950’s, Marilyn Monroe, Jane Russell, Betty Grable, and Lauren Bacall all used their external charms to lure a rich husband in Howard Hawks’ Gentlemen Prefer Blondes (1953) or Jean Negulesco’s HOW TO MARRY A MILLIONAIRE (1953), an era when it was common for men to support women through marriage, a concept this film subverts, yet respectfully pays homage to at the same time, where the dream is the same.  Reminiscent of the works of Ernst Lubitsch or Billy Wilder, it’s told in a screwball comic manner with rapid-fire pacing and streams of profanity-laced dialogue, a horribly ugly and grotesque display of raw, unfettered power and how easily power corrupts, with a sweeping landscape of Brighton Beach, also known as “Little Odessa” due its tight-knit Russian and Eastern European communities, where this delves into moneyed pockets of Russian culture, as seen through American eyes.  What sets this apart is the lack of any identifiable characters, where it’s hard to empathize with people you don’t really care about, and this is a lengthy odyssey into narcissistic people who don’t really give a shit about anyone else but themselves, becoming a hedonistic journey into a false paradise, as epitomized by Sin City, Las Vegas, and then having to deal with the wretched consequences that literally becomes a hell on earth.  From the maker of Starlet (2012) and The Florida Project (2017), Baker’s characters believe in an illusory American Dream that has abandoned them a long time ago, exposing the underside of that façade, where failure and social upheaval are intrinsically linked to his working class aesthetic, creating films free of any superficialities that accentuate those on the lower rung of the economic ladder, providing insights into the lives of people who live on the edge of urban spaces, addressing issues of social injustice, poverty, and the consequences of economic instability without romanticizing or condemning his figures, continually finding new ways to get audiences to empathize with people they may otherwise disregard.  All the hype surrounding this film, coming after winning the Palme d’Or at Cannes (where he dedicated the award to “all sex workers, past, present, and future”), with a jury led by Greta Gerwig, tends to send all the wrong messages, as this is an obnoxious expression of unprecedented arrogance on display, where the bullying behavior is simply abominable, which is tragic enough, yet ugliness and an unending sadness permeates through every frame of this film, though it’s couched in wild exhibitionist humor, where the grotesque, Ruben Östlund-like satiric exaggeration seems to be an accelerant, like starting a fire you can’t put out.  For those who seem to think this audacious screamfest is among the best films of the year, and there are many, it only makes you wonder what kind of abusive crap they’re used to seeing, where theaters are just filled with nearly unwatchable movies these days, spewed with incessant violence that is massively inflicted upon viewers, becoming a new desensitized normal in today’s society.       

Opening with a five-minute sequence set in a New York strip club with a remix of the British boy band Take That from the 90’s blaring on the soundtrack, Take That ft. Calum Scott - Greatest Day (Robin Schulz ... YouTube (2:43), offering a sarcastically sunny and hopeful vibe, as Ani (Mikey Madison) works the room, flirting with guests and leading them to the VIP area at the back to perform private lap dances, moments filled with gratuitous sex, nudity, and other party activities.  Basically this boils down to a long hip hop music video filled with drugs, booze, flashy cars, and naked women, shot by Drew Daniels on 35mm, accentuating bright neon colors, like something we’ve already seen in Scorsese’s The Wolf of Wall Street (2013), a fast track lifestyle that has an instantaneous appeal, but quickly wears out, attracting a wealthy segment of society that drops $100 dollar bills like there’s no tomorrow.  In the private rooms, Ani holds all the power, no matter how affluent the customer is, though the moment she leaves the club, the power dynamic flips on its head and the status quo is restored.  You’d think the powerhouse, once-in-a-lifetime performance by unheralded actress Mikey Madison, who had a bit part before being unceremoniously killed off in Tarantino’s Once Upon a Time...in Hollywood (2019), might be the saving grace of this film, from the conspicuous Brooklyn accent, a variation of Marisa Tomei in MY COUSIN VINNY (1992), to uncontrolled outbursts of rage, to completely vulnerable moments, where real intimacy is perhaps too painful for her, which may be why she has chosen a profession that allows her to safely keep her distance.  The actress learned to speak Russian and literally spent months visiting Brighton Beach sex clubs while preparing for this role, while also drawing upon Andrea Werhun’s book Modern Whore: A Memoir, a collection of original stories inspired by the author’s adventures in the sex industry, but it’s not nearly enough, as it’s clear from the start that everything is a mirage, that it’s all a lie, so it’s really no secret where this film is heading, taking us into a dumpsterfire where there is no escape, as you’re going to get burned.  Seemingly cut from the same cloth as the Safdie brothers Good Time (2017) or Uncut Gems (2019), dysfunctional family crime dramas with a frenetic pace to them, and while it’s an exhilarating ride, it lacks their sense of joyous adventure, existing in a place where the boundaries between delusion and reality seem to be blurred, leaving you emotionally drained and empty afterwards, sorry you ever treaded into this territory.  There are no subtleties and no time for tenderness, instead it’s a brash expression of unending selfishness, where the horror isn’t sexual violence, or even the dread of danger lurking in the dark, it’s the baffling naïveté of immaturity that holds such a central position, like a weight over everyone’s heads.  As if awakened from a fever dream of spending one’s last night on earth before it explodes, this is a story where everything you once knew is gone in an instant, leaving you wandering the ends of the universe alone, stuck in a purgatory of what might have been, where it’s not only bitter, but bittersweet.  This is not the prettified, sugar-sweet fairy tale of Julia Roberts in Garry Marshall’s PRETTY WOMAN (1990), as there’s nothing funny about the gutless moral vacuousness and sweeping social vilification that is the heart of this film, where there is such an obsessional yearning for prosperity, with all the safety and comfort that brings, yet the raw, explosive style of uninhibited energy on display hides the inevitable reality that awaits us in this nihilistic tragicomedy, taking us down a road to nowhere where all that’s left is unending bleakness and emotional despair.  

Ani is a brashly confident, fiercely independent Russian-speaking stripper who is often sent to entertain high-rolling Russian clientele, which is where she meets Vanya (Mark Eidelstein), an impetuous son of a Russian oligarch billionaire, quickly getting caught up in a whirlwind affair, Feeling the Chemistry in New ANORA Clip with Mikey ... YouTube (4:27), where the kid is a party animal that surrounds himself with beautiful girls, vaping drugs, and nonstop alcohol, living in abundance without ever taking responsibility, yet when she’s invited to a private appointment at his opulent home, a full-windowed waterfront mansion with maid service and private security, she can’t help but be impressed, ANORA (2024) Clip | Sean Baker, Mikey Madison YouTube (54 seconds), thinking this is a window into a whole new world.  When he pays her $15,000 to be his exclusive girlfriend for a week, they run off to Las Vegas where they actually get married, as she’s infatuated by the luxuriousness of his accommodations and his flashy lifestyle, Anora | Clip | NYFF62 YouTube (1:14), believing that’s her ticket out of the cheap and sordid lifestyle she’s been living.  When word in Russia gets out through social media that he’s gotten married, his parents send in the cavalry to intervene, with a bunch of Armenian goons quickly putting the kibosh on these shenanigans, blowing a hole in their fantasy world, suddenly forced to deal with unpleasant people who take offense by her presence, immediately assuming she’s contaminated his life, viewed simply as a scheming whore that must immediately be sent packing and the marriage annulled.  It’s a startling shift in tone, leading to a stream of organized chaos, a mix of calamity and catastrophe, utilizing slapstick comedy that borders on the ridiculous, yet the cruel and demeaning treatment of Ani is a given, as she’s simply viewed as a completely disposable nobody, dealing with her in the same manner as all their other problems, where they agree to pay her off to go away.  But she doesn’t do so willingly, becoming a huge pain in the ass for this family, hell-bent on fire and fury, so when Vanya bails on her and runs away at the first sign of trouble, she’s forced to deal with them all on her own, and while she puts up a struggle of epic proportions, displaying a surprising tenacity, she is steamrolled by the power they command, as highly influential people are on their payroll, while Ani has no one.  Basically treated like shit, she’s eventually forced to capitulate to the inevitable reality that she can’t win this battle of class privilege, as the moneyed interests are just too much, though there are absurd interactions, continuous screaming, and somewhat exaggerated fights, where the real movie is that viewers can see her in a way no one else does, as she’s unequivocally human, literally stripped of her humanity, yet the overall framework of the film is a zany fast-talking comedy until it slows down for a quietly memorable final sequence blanketed under a fresh coat of snow.  The film takes its cue from Fellini’s NIGHTS OF CABIRIA (1957), where a sex worker and hopeless romantic keeps picking the worst kind of men to get attached to, pouring her hopes and dreams into a guy, only to come to the slow realization that he’s a pathetic disappointment.  The unending bleakness of this film is unmistakable, despite the roller coaster ride of ever-shifting emotions, feeling one-dimensional, however, as it’s not particularly innovative and is actually quite predictable over a lengthy running time, never probing beneath the surface or wavering from the central theme that an incessantly exploited Ani is left lost and alone.