Latest news with #LoveMeTender
New York Post
a day ago
- Entertainment
- New York Post
Mark Rothko's former NYC home re-lists for $9.5M
Only in New York could a single Gilded Age carriage house have ties to both the abstract painter Mark Rothko and the music legend Elvis Presley. Now, the duplex where the late Rothko created his art at 155 E. 69th St. is back on the market for $9.5 million. That's the same price the property asked last year with a different brokerage, as Gimme Shelter exclusively reported. But the listing comes with a catch. 9 The famed artist Mark Rothko, who died in 1970 at age 66. Getty Images 9 The home is replete with elegant touches, such as a fireplace in this plush living area. Zoe Wetherall 9 A view of the grand layout. Zoe Wetherall 9 Fireplaces accent many areas inside. Zoe Wetherall One family owns and raised their family in a five-bedroom duplex that's now back on the market. A Japanese company owns the second half and operates a non-profit tea society foundation there, and has no plans to sell at the moment, said listing brokers Jeremy Stein and Jennifer Henson, of Sotheby's International Realty. The Urasenke Tea Ceremony Society, according to its web material, is a non-profit organization dedicated to promoting and understanding the 'Way of Tea' through lectures, demonstrations and classes. Both the society and the duplex owners agreed when they bought the property that they would sell the building 50 years later if both parties didn't want to hold on to it. That's 12 years from now, Stein said. 'At the moment, the Japanese company doesn't want to sell but they will have to in 12 years and the [$9.5 million] property will be worth a lot more at that time,' Stein said. He added that if someone bought the duplex now and lived in it, they'd make a large profit when they would sell the building, which is estimated at the moment to be worth around $24 million. At one point in the 1950s, the property was divided into music studios — and that's how Presley fits in. It's where he re-recorded the end of the soundtrack for his first film, 'Love Me Tender.' 9 Untitled, Mark Rothko, 1955, National Gallery of Art, Washington DC. Alamy Stock Photo 9 The kitchen has eat-in space. Zoe Wetherall 9 There's room aplenty for a home office. Zoe Wetherall 'There are scenes of him [in 1956] signing autographs outside the house, and getting mobbed as he leaves in a car out of the garage,' Stein said. The home was built for a wealthy financier, James Stillman. The carriage house's next chapter was recording studios and, after that, Rothko's studio. Rothko often worked in the space and sometimes would cover the skylight with a parachute to create different types of light when he worked. The property is where Rothko created art for the famed, and non-denominational, Rothko Chapel in Houston. 9 There are five delightful bedrooms inside. Zoe Wetherall 9 The landscaped roof deck comes with views of the neighborhood. Zoe Wetherall This building is part of a 'stable row,' one of the side streets between Lexington and Third avenues where wealthy Manhattanites kept their horses and carriages during the Gilded Age. Built in 1884, the double-wide red brick structure was designed by architect William Schickel. It features arched windows, a large arched door, a one-car garage, a coveted curb cut and the enclosed garden. The private residence, which can also be accessed through the garage, opens to a large living area with a working woodburning fireplace and a glass-enclosed terrace. There's also a formal dining room, with access to the terrace, and an eat-in chef's kitchen. There are three bedrooms on this level — one with a working fireplace — as well as three baths and a laundry room. The upper level boasts an atrium at the top of the stairs with skylights. There's also a main bedroom suite lined with windows that look out to the landscaped roof terrace, plus another working fireplace. There's also a home office on this floor, along with a tea room, storage and access to the terrace. Along with the stairs, there's an elevator that goes from the top floor to the garage. In addition, a mezzanine level comes with additional storage and a wine cellar.
Yahoo
09-07-2025
- Entertainment
- Yahoo
Vicky Krieps on Jim Jarmusch, Choosing 'to Not Prepare' for Roles, Ditching Her Phone for a Year
Vicky Krieps is one of the stars featured at this year's 59th edition of the Karlovy Vary International Film Festival (KVIFF). On the opening night of the festival in the Czech spa town, she received its President's Award to a huge ovation. She also introduced a screening of Anna Cazenave Cambet's Love Me Tender, starring Krieps. And she took time to reflect on her acting career, including her upcoming film with Jim Jarmusch, social media, AI and much more in a wide-ranging discussion during a roundtable interview with reporters. More from The Hollywood Reporter First Czech-Viet Feature 'Summer School, 2001' and Anime Series: Duzan Duong Is Everywhere at KVIFF Netflix Says 50 Percent of Global Users Now Watch Anime, Reveals Expanded Slate Dakota Johnson Gets Karlovy Vary Award and Love, Calls Celine Song "Probably the Best Filmmaker of Our Time" During her acceptance speech, the actress had told the loving crowd that she was never cool. Asked about that comment, she explained to the press roundtable: 'It's true. Of course, I'm challenging people's ideas because they think I am cool, because I'm an actor and I do what I want, I say my opinion, and that's cool. But the truth is, it's a journey. And when I started my journey, like all of us, and I went to school, I was not cool. In high school, I wasn't bullied, I wasn't expelled from school, but I never managed to fit in. Yet, I didn't try to be different.' Krieps continued by sharing a story from her time in school. 'I would have been happy to fit in, but I didn't. I wasn't chasing to be special,' she said. 'I remember wearing a tie, because I was thinking: 'Why is no one doing that?' To me, it was just a beautiful piece of clothing. I didn't give it much thought. So I went to school with my tie a few times, and of course, immediately they thought that I'm into girls, and that's a problem, and I just ignored it. I decided not to think about it. Also, I didn't finish my studies because I had a child too early. I never wanted to, but I ended up oftentimes doing things that put me on the outside. It's an illusion what's cool and what's not cool. That's basically what I was trying to say.' Krieps also shared her thoughts on what drives actors. 'I think most actors have a traumatized childhood, and they try to heal themselves,' she said. 'That's why they become actors, and then it's a matter of how truthful you deal with this. How much do you share honestly with people watching you suffer in becoming a person. Life is about becoming yourself. And in order to become yourself, you have to suffer. It's like taking off skin after skin. And a good actor is someone who does that in a way that allows you to see them take off their skin again and again. With every movie, you become more and more yourself.' That led to a debate about social media. 'There's a big misconception, especially nowadays, when you have Instagram or social media and the Internet and these things,' Krieps said. 'Not that it's only bad, but a lot of it is bullshit, because it tells some sort of tale of celebrity, which is not true. Celebrities are usually people who are stuck in another role they've been given, which is 'now you are famous.'' Given the various celebrated roles she has taken on during her career so far, portraying both historical figures and fictional characters, what's Krieps' secret to nailing her roles? Her answer may surprise you. 'I actually choose to not prepare. And it's a conscious choice, because what I'm trying to avoid is it becoming the exercise of Vicky Krieps, the actress, and saying, 'Look at how well I did my homework. I really walk like someone from the 1800s. Or, I really speak like Ingeborg Bachmann.' Because to me, then I let down the audience, because then I take away this moment where I am truly taking off my skin, and I'm truly trying to find something. You're watching me truly trying to survive, truly trying to find an answer to something where there is no answer.' That said, she also suggested that actors may have 'two brains' or use two parts of their brains. 'One brain is always doing the homework,' she argued. 'So the minute I know I am playing [Austrian Empress] Sissi, anything I see around me that is Sissi, I will absorb, and it will calculate.' When she played the Austrian author Ingeborg Bachmann in Margarethe von Trotta's Ingeborg Bachmann — Journey Into the Desert, Krieps didn't seek out interviews with her, though. 'I didn't want to even listen to her speak. I think I heard her speak once before preparing for the movie,' she explained. 'And the crazy thing, and that has happened to me a few times, the brother who's still alive came to me and was in shock because he didn't understand why I spoke like his sister. He was like, 'How did you know?' It was not only about the voice, it was also about certain movements and things people wouldn't know, but he knew. So I think by removing my preparation, I make space for something to come in, which is inspiration, like in music.' Concluded Krieps: 'We all know that with the great musicians, there is something that makes the way they play things different, and it has to do with something that they don't really control themselves. And I think with actors, it's the same. You can open yourself to some different kind of knowledge that is not yours.' In this context, Krieps also shared one thing she dreads in particular. 'One fear I always have is [that of] the imposter, that someone will come and say, 'Oh, look at her just trying to pretend,' because I am not her,' she said. Asked about trying to feel her way into roles and avoid information about characters and avoid distractions in the digital and information ages when the Internet, mobile phones and other technologies rule people's attention, Krieps offered that she is trying to take an alternative approach to it all. 'I think what I'm doing is my sort of silent resistance. I really don't give in to any of this,' she explained. 'I have to give in to it in a way that it is part of my life, because it's just being forced on me. We are all slaves of this thing. But what I can do is: I don't give a fuck. I don't care. I will always say what I think, and I don't care if they think I'm important or not. I don't think it's interesting if I have 'likes' or if I don't have 'likes.' I don't care if I didn't see a text. I don't care if I'm not behaving the way I'm supposed to.' Continued the star: 'Fighting it wouldn't work. I mean, I did not have a phone for a year, and that was wonderful. I might do it again. But fighting it is very difficult, also, because fighting always only generates fighting. If you fight something, there will be something coming back. So I've decided to just not care. I just really don't care. I don't care if I am good for them or the Internet.' How does she feel about AI? 'I cannot lose my energy on fighting something that is, for so many people, apparently so important. Yes, they can have artificial intelligence, but I will just look at the tree, and they can go and they can do what they do, and they can talk about what they talk about. But I myself will look at the tree and be more interested in the tree.' Krieps obviously is happy to avoid all the hype and noise. 'I like silence,' she told reporters. 'There's so much noise nowadays that I just believe in silence. And whenever I can hold silence in a movie, I'm holding it, and I'm also holding it for everyone else. I'm inviting everyone into the silence.' Could she imagine stopping work as an actress? 'I would love to,' Krieps replied. 'I'm kind of stuck in this, also financially…. Having to raise two kids and also being the sole provider, because the father of the kids doesn't really earn money. I can live off this, which is already very cool, and I'm proud of that. But I couldn't yet build a [financial] cushion. I would like to take a break and then maybe write a script or something. I have all this in me. I just need the time and the possibility.' Krieps has had a lot of great acting opportunities, of course. And her latest one is a role in Jarmusch's upcoming Father, Mother, Sister, Brother, which also stars Cate Blanchett, Adam Driver, Mayim Bialik, Tom Waits and Charlotte Rampling. 'What I really, really love about [Jarmusch] is that he is still just making a movie. He's not trying to make the next Jim Jarmusch. He's not trying to go to Cannes,' Krieps said. 'He's really trying to figure out how to make the movie on set, like a student would make a movie. And that is very, very beautiful. That's very loving, so it was a very loving set, very careful set. Working with Cate Blanchett and Charlotte Rampling was a gift, and we just had so much fun. We were laughing.' Best of The Hollywood Reporter The 40 Best Films About the Immigrant Experience Wes Anderson's Movies Ranked From Worst to Best 13 of Tom Cruise's Most Jaw-Dropping Stunts
Yahoo
26-05-2025
- Entertainment
- Yahoo
‘Love Me Tender' Review: Vicky Krieps Ignites an Elegant and Moving Portrait of Motherhood at Odds With Selfhood
Even in supposedly enlightened societies it is practically an article of faith that a woman's identity as a mother must supercede all her other identities. Not only that: any woman not willing to sacrifice all the other love in her life for the love of her child is unnatural, an aberration and the ultimate taboo: a bad mother. Anna Cazenave Cambet's sweeping, moving 'Love Me Tender,' based on the semi-autobiographical novel by Constance Debré, aims at the heart of this pervasive ideology of hypocrisy and unreachably high expectations, and largely thanks to a rivetingly radiant Vicky Krieps, hits its mark with painful accuracy. The paths to what is socially deemed success as a mother are few and narrow and heavily policed, but there are a million ways to fail. Krieps, lean and rangy in T-shirts and denim, plays Clémence, a divorced writer who used to be a lawyer, and amicably shares custody of her eight-year-old son Paul (Viggo Ferreira-Redier) with her ex-husband Laurent (Antoine Reinartz, so memorable as the prosecuting attorney in 'Anatomy of a Fall.') We're introduced to a contented and excited Clémence who seems in the wake of major self-revelation. At the pool one day she swims her laps, casually hooks up with a woman in her changing cabin, then emerges to a sunny Parisia day and phones her kid. He asks her how far she swam today. In a little ritual between them, she shows him the sky. More from Variety Vicky Krieps, Christian Friedel Join Aimee Lou Wood, Johnny Flynn in Malgorzata Szumowska, Michal Englert's 'The Idiots' Vicky Krieps Has Yet to Recover From Cannes Custody Drama 'Love Me Tender': 'This Film Pushed Me to My Limit' Vicky Krieps' 'Love Me Tender' Boarded by Be For Films Ahead of Cannes Un Certain Regard Premiere (EXCLUSIVE) DP Kristy Baboul's warm, loose camera swirls around her as a classical viola plays — some days are just good days — but Clémence has not yet told Laurent (let alone Paul) that she's seeing women now. So she arranges a meeting with her ex in a familiar cafe and breaks the news, trusting of his reaction, confident in his understanding. In fact, it's almost funny, the way it plays out, with Laurent's fake ok-with-it response followed by an inordinately long pull on his drink. But later, in retrospect, we'll understand the undercurrents in that clever scene, and wonder if Clémence's lighthearted demeanor, and her friendly but firm rebuff of the pass Laurent makes at her later, are what causes his unthinkable bitterness to brew. Because Clémence's newfound sexual freedom obscurely rouses Laurent to inflict the most vindictive ongoing revenge on her. First simply keeping Paul from her, lawyer Laurent then gets the courts involved, filing spurious allegations of the ugliest kind in a successful bid to get her custody suspended entirely. The damage this will do to Paul never seems to be a factor. Here the film, like Clémence's life, forks into two: One part of her carries on her professional, personal and romantic life, the other takes on the near-full-time job of fighting through a legal quagmire to have her maternal rights restored. Even though all involved understand she is blameless, the tortuous process drags on to the extent that she will not see Paul for 18 months, or as she says in voiceover (sparingly but eloquently excerpted from the work of autofiction Clémence is writing) 'two of her birthdays, one of his.' Even then, she is restricted to brief sessions under supervision by a social worker(Aurélia Petit). 'Can I hold him on my lap?' she begs, and the ensuing embrace is a heartbreaking relief, but far from the end of the story. At over two hours, 'Love Me Tender' feels a little too long, especially once Clémence's relationship with journalist Sarah (Monia Chokri) gets more serious. Chokri is slightly miscast and their relationship, despite a nicely frank sex scene involving the practiced use of a strap-on, is less convincing in its chemistry than, say, Clémence's nightclub hookup with Victoire (an underused Park Ji-min from 'Return to Seoul'). But time spent hanging out with Clémence and her flatmate Leo (Julien de Saint-Jean), or her father (Féofor Atkine) cannot feel wasted when Krieps' inhabitation of the role is so complete. It's an enormous, generous performance, even her body language changes — slinky and nonchalant when circling a new lover, loose-limbed and girlish when relaxing with friends, and tight and compressed in that horrible mediation room, her burners on low, her expression concentrated like she's willing her heart to slow its beat. After this year's excellent 'We Believe You' from Belgium and 2023's 'All to Play For' starring a terrific Virginie Efira, Francophone dramas following mothers embroiled in family court custody disputes are having quite a moment. 'Love Me Tender' is a notable addition to the trend, for Krieps, but also for its sorrowful but stirring ending: Clémence makes a transgressive, devastatingly difficult decision, into which is woven the slenderest hope that, as we learn to appreciate loving mothers who are also complicated women, it may one day not seem so very transgressive at all. Best of Variety The Best Albums of the Decade
Yahoo
20-05-2025
- Entertainment
- Yahoo
‘Love Me Tender' Review: Vicky Krieps Anchors a Hard-Hitting Chronicle of Motherhood and Sexual Freedom That Overstays Its Welcome
If there are two things you can say about art house ingenue Vicky Krieps, it's that she's the most internationally famous actor to ever emerge from the tiny European nation of Luxembourg, and that she rarely takes on roles that could be considered easy or light. After breaking out in Phantom Thread, starring as a model who turns the tables on her abusive boss/boyfriend, she's been drawn towards characters who are either living on the edge or going through hell. In the past three years alone, she's played a woman stricken with a rare debilitating illness (More Than Ever); a renown Austrian poet whose life was tragically cut short (Ingeborg Bachmann — Journey into the Desert); a tight-lipped U.S. border cop who kills a migrant and tries to get away with it (The Wall); and a frontier wife who's brutally raped, then winds up dying of syphilis (The Dead Don't Hurt). More from The Hollywood Reporter 'Splitsville' Review: Dakota Johnson and Adria Arjona in a Winning Indie Comedy That Puts Two Divorcing Couples Through the Wringer 'Eagles of the Republic' Review: Movies Collide With Political Might in Tarik Saleh's Dark and Clever Conspiracy Thriller Julia Ducournau Stuns Cannes With 'Alpha' What's fascinating about Krieps is how she seems to nonchalantly plunge headfirst into such parts, never resting on her laurels and always digging deep to find emotion in tough places. If the movies she stars in aren't all memorable, Krieps is usually memorable in all of them. That's certainly the case with Love Me Tender, a hard-hitting French chronicle of motherhood and independence based on lawyer-turned-author Constance Debré's 2020 book. Adapted and directed by Anna Cazenave Cambet (Gold for Dogs), the Cannes entry is both moody and intermittently moving, revealing the many hurdles a woman faces when her former husband tries to get full custody of their son. But the drama, which starts off powerfully, fizzles in the second half. While it works its way toward an intriguing conclusion, it takes its time to get there (running 134 minutes) tends to lose focus. Thankfully, Krieps anchors things with her typically committed performance, portraying a mother torn apart by the French legal system and an extremely vindictive ex, all the while trying to find herself sexually and intellectually. Love Me Tender certainly doesn't shy away from the frank eroticism of its heroine, Clémence (Krieps), whom we first see randomly hooking up with a woman in the changing room of a Paris swimming pool. A voiceover, taken verbatim from Debré's 'autofictional' book, reveals that Clémence has been separated for three years from her longtime husband, Laurent (Antoine Reinartz), with whom she's been splitting care of their 8-year-old son, Paul (Viggo Ferreira-Redier). When she tells Laurent she's begun to see women romantically, he takes the news so badly that he cuts off all communication and hires a lawyer to get full custody. From there, things only get worse. The movie's strongest moments revolve around Clémence's many efforts to see Paul again — a quest that becomes increasingly Kafkaesque as Laurent doubles down on his attempts to block her. There are only a handful of scenes between the separated spouses, yet they are loaded with tension and resentment. Reinartz portrays Laurent as a guy whose manhood has clearly been offended by Clémence's turn towards lesbianism, and who uses their son to punish her. We never cut to Laurent's point of view, but it seems likely he spends his off hours surfing the manosphere. Despite her ex's many efforts to thwart her, Clémence does finally get to see Paul again, although only under the supervision of a court-appointed social worker (Aurélia Petit). The first time that happens, about an hour into the action, is definitely the film's emotional high point. Krieps appears both tender and tragic in that long sequence, her character unable to speak because she's so overcome by the presence of her son. A parallel storyline details Clémence's rocky romantic life as she seeks out partners in bars, restaurants and nightclubs, hoping to meet someone who's more than just a one-night stand. Cambet juxtaposes those scenes, some of which are sensual and explicit, with all the turmoil Clémence faces in her long and painful battle to get Paul back. The more she seems to liberate herself from the past — seeking new sexual experiences, writing novels instead of working as a lawyer, sleeping in garrets instead of fancy bourgeois apartments — the more Clémence is entrapped by the life she left behind. She loves Paul and wants to care for him, but the vengeful Laurent, along with a few lawyers and judges, seem to believe she can't be both a great mom and a freethinking lesbian. Clémence's predicament at times recalls that of the mother played by Virginie Efira in the 2023 French drama All to Play For, which also premiered in Cannes' Un Certain Regard. But whereas that film's rhythm and intensity never let up, Love Me Tender meanders too much in its second half, especially when Clémence sparks up a serious relationship with a journalist (Monia Chokri) she meets in a café. Another plotline involving Clémence's ailing father (Féodor Atkine) doesn't lead anywhere special, and the movie becomes more of a wavering chronicle. Cambet coaxes strong turns from Krieps and the rest of the actors, including newcomer Ferrera-Redier as the moody if lovable Paul. But she's probably too faithful to Debré's book, failing to shape the film into a gripping narrative and relying on a constant voiceover filled with the writer's musings, some of which comes across as platitudes ('Love is brutal,' etc.). The closing scenes nonetheless lead to a denouement that you seldom see in movies about mothers fighting to get their kids back. Rather than finishing with the usual triumph over adversity moment, Love Me Tender takes a detour towards something darker and perhaps more honest. For all her struggles to deflect the judgement of other people (her ex, social workers, the courts), Clémence finally learns that you can't please everyone, nor hope to have it both ways. But you can, perhaps, manage to please yourself. 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Yahoo
20-05-2025
- Entertainment
- Yahoo
‘My Father's Shadow' Review: First-Ever Nigerian Film at Cannes Is an Elegant and Stirring Ode to Lagos
Akinola Davies Jr.'s gorgeous debut My Father's Shadow takes place during a consequential day in Nigerian politics. It's June 12, 1993, and the country is holding its first election since a coup in the early 80s. One president represents a new hope for the postcolonial nation, while the other would maintain the incumbent military rule. While the frenzied, anxious energy of history in the making permeates the air, two young boys attempt to stave off boredom. For Akin (Godwin Chimerie Egbo) and Remi (Chibuike Marvellous Egbo), brothers living on the outskirts of Lagos, this day, at first, feels like any other. When we meet the brothers, they are lounging in front of their home, bickering about sharing toys and trying to keep cool in the punishing heat. More from The Hollywood Reporter 'It Was Just an Accident' Review: Iranian Auteur Jafar Panahi Returns to Cannes With an Artful Tale of Trauma and Revenge 'Love Me Tender' Review: Vicky Krieps Anchors a Hard-Hitting Chronicle of Motherhood and Sexual Freedom That Overstays Its Welcome Ari Aster, Lars Knudsen on Cannes Dreams, Nightmares and Surfing Their Momentum There is a familiar lyricism to the way that Davies Jr., working with cinematographer Jermaine Edwards, opens his film. The shots are intimate and lean into the poetry of a child's perspective, in the vein of Raven Jackson's All Dirt Roads Taste of Salt and the early part of RaMell Ross' Nickel Boys. Like these directors, Davies Jr. tailors the impressionistic style of older Black filmmakers (think Julie Dash, Arthur Jafa, Charles Burnett) to his own sensibilities. The persistent buzz of flies, the faint sound of wind through leaves and the coos of animals in the distance also help set the stage for this delicate story. It's not until the boys go inside the house, where they happen upon their father Folarian, an emotionally distant and imposing figure played finely by Sopé Dirisu (Slow Horses), that their day takes a dramatic turn. He interrogates the boys about a missing watch. They are frozen by his presence, as if they have just seen a ghost. Premiering at Cannes in the Un Certain Regard sidebar, My Father's Shadow chronicles an unexpected adventure Folarian takes with Akin and Remi. The film — which is, embarrassingly, the first one from Nigeria to ever play at the festival — is a semi-autobiographical tale written by Davies Jr. and his brother Wale Davies about experiences with their father, who died when they were young. Davies Jr. never loses sight of the project's intimacy. My Father's Shadow coaxes viewers into Akin and Remi's world from the first frame, proceeding to offer a heartbreaking reflection on father-son relationships and a nation on the cusp of change. The film has a loose relationship to linearity and an oblique narrative (much like Ramata-Toulaye Sy's Banel & Adama, which premiered at Cannes a few years ago) that might be trying for some viewers. But for willing participants, Davies Jr. offers an arresting, impressionistic portrait of Lagos. After some convincing, Folarian decides to take his sons to Lagos for the day, using it as an opportunity to forge a stronger emotional connection. They board a danfo — an informal network of mini-buses — which introduces the boys to new sights and sounds. Vibrant personalities aboard the bus and later in Lagos replace the muggy atmosphere of their rural home, the low hum of passengers gossiping and rapidly exchanging political opinions supplanting the buzz of insects as a sonic backdrop. Through these conversations, Akin and Remi learn about a massacre at Bonny Camp, where the military killed four boys, and the political stakes of this day become clearer. Lagos also gives Akin and Remi a glimpse into their father's past. Flitting from one corner of the city to the other, they meet his friends, who share tales about their father's days as a bachelor. Davies Jr.' favors a story in flashes, so the narrative can feel patchy at times, leaving viewers wanting more information about the these characters. The best moments of My Father's Shadow are the stolen ones between Folarian and his sons. While there is some overly sentimental exposition in these encounters, they are easy to forgive because of the restrained performances and gentle visuals. As a Nigerian father caught between obligations to his family and a suggested hidden political life, Folarian struggles with an internal tension that Dirisu brings to the surface with a performance marked by controlled physicality and pained facial expressions. The character tries to advise his sons, but he's also wrestling with his own moral contradictions. Both Chimerie Egbo and Marvellous Egbo, first-timers, give fine performances too, especially when it comes to rendering the capricious moods of children rejecting and seeking approval from the estranged adults in their life. The day in Lagos initially unfolds at an easygoing speed, punctuated by moments of minor drama. But as evening approaches and the election count draws to a close, Davies Jr.'s film assumes an anxious layer. The city becomes a charged arena as the incumbent preemptively establishes a curfew and soldiers patrol the streets. Folarian worries that he won't be able to get Remi and Akin home, and before he can formulate a plan, violence breaks out. Deft editing by Omar Guzman Castro eases us into these more jolting moments that echo the somber reflections of the Nigerian writer Chris Abani in his poem 'Mango Chutney,' which he wrote during his days as a political prisoner in the years preceding this historic election: I never get used to the amount ofblood; bodies drop like so many flowers. Eyes stare, bright and alive, intoanother world. And death becomes some men. Others wear it shamefully; others still, defiantly, Their protest choking, suffocating. My Father's Shadow includes frenzied scenes of the unrest that broke out after the results of that election were annulled by the incumbent, squashing the hope of millions and ushering in another chapter of military rule. Davies Jr. deftly connects the broken promises of the nation state with the fragility of the family at the center of his story. It's in these final scenes of this impressive debut that he displays his full promise as a filmmaker. 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