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Yahoo
20-05-2025
- Entertainment
- Yahoo
‘It Was Just an Accident' Review: Iranian Director Jafar Panahi's Done Being Discreet, Launching an Open Warning to His Oppressors
Take heed: Jafar Panahi is no longer the filmmaker he once was, transforming from understated humanist (in films such as 'The White Balloon' and 'Offside') to openly critical of the Iranian regime, as revealed in his punchy new political thriller, 'It Was Just an Accident.' The greatest irony of that change is that Panahi may never have become so explicitly defiant of his persecutors if the system itself had not tried to crack down as harshly as it did. Arrested multiple times for so-called 'propaganda' and locked up on two occasions (released only after he went on hunger strike), Panahi can't help but make art, emerging fired up and ready to fight back. The same is true for the five characters in 'It Was Just an Accident,' who've assembled almost like the diamond thieves in 'Reservoir Dogs' post-heist to point fingers and dispense justice. Strange as it may sound (for a slow-burn scripted drama with endless driving scenes and a detour through the maternity ward), their mordantly funny task crosses the absurdism of Samuel Beckett with one of Tarantino's more furious revenge pictures. Each of these survivors swears he'd recognize the self-righteous one-legged prosecutor who tortured them in prison, even though none of them saw the man with his own eyes. More from Variety Jafar Panahi Speaks Out for First Time in 14 Years as New Film 'It Was Just an Accident' Premieres at Cannes: I Spent 'Eight Hours a Day Blindfolded' and 'Being Interrogated' in Iran Prison Taraji P. Henson Says Hollywood 'Lied to Me' About Black Movies and TV Not Selling Overseas, Spent Years Being 'Graceful in Getting Paid Less ... Not Anymore Though!' Spike Lee Says Denzel Washington Deserved Oscar for 'Malcolm X' Over Al Pacino: 'It's Like Basketball, Where the Ref Blows a Call' Vahid (Vahid Mobasseri) was blindfolded every time he was beaten, but he knows the sound of Peg Leg's walk when it limps into the auto garage where he works. For Shiva (Maryam Afshari), who refuses to wear the veil in her work as a wedding photographer, the man's smell is the giveaway: the way 'the Gimp' reeked of sweat. Meanwhile, hot-headed Hamid (Mohamad Ali Elyasmehr) insists it's the guy's voice that takes him back to those traumatic days, when he was interrogated and threatened, left to stand for hours with a noose around his neck. So what if none of these survivors can make a positive visual identification? Together, they can surely determine whether the man tied up in Vahid's trunk is indeed Eqbal, the oppressor they share in common. How did he come to be Vahid's prisoner? That's the outcome of the film's disorienting first act, which begins with a bearded man named Eghbal (Ebrahim Azizi) driving home with his family. His pregnant wife (Afssaneh Najmabadi) and daughter (Delmaz Najafi) are dancing to the radio when he hears a whelp, the sound of a wild dog being struck by his car. 'God surely put it in our path for a reason,' his wife reasons, unable to comprehend how much this minor accident will change their lives. According to traditional narrative logic, audiences should be predisposed to sympathize with this family, who are introduced first and seem like decent Iranian citizens (even if striking a dog doesn't earn the patriarch any points). At a nearby garage, Panahi adds Vahid to the cast, but does nothing to manipulate our feelings toward him. If anything, this disheveled new addition comes across like a slob, cowering out of sight in the rafters of the building the way a frightened child might. But something about Eghbal has upset him, and it's not until the next day, when he stalks and eventually abducts this stranger that his motives shift into focus. Vahid digs a grave and is ready to bury Eghbal in an open expanse of desert (barren but for a scraggly tree that looks as if it was borrowed from a production of 'Waiting for Godot'), but his panicked captive introduces just enough doubt for Vahid to seek out other witnesses. 'There's no need to dig their graves. They've done that for themselves,' says his friend Salar (Georges Hashemzadeh), opening a dialogue that Panahi seems to be having with himself in the film. By now, the Iranian regime's victims far outnumber its oppressors, whose draconian measures are inadvertently creating the very resistance they're trying to suppress. When things eventually reach a tipping point — and they will — Panahi wonders whether the citizens' revenge should be correspondingly cruel, or should they show mercy? Just how far off can revolution be? It's telling that Panahi is no longer obliquely challenging specific policies (the way 'The Circle' depicted gender inequality and 'This Is Not a Film' pushed back on limits to personal expression) but openly threatening his overlords with payback. Like fellow Iranian filmmaker Mohammad Rasoulof ('The Seed of the Sacred Fig'), Panahi is still working with both hands tied behind his back. Except for Azizi, who plays Eghbal, his performers are all nonprofessionals, and much of the low-budget production is spent not on traditional sets, but within a few meters of Vahid's white van — or else in the back, where Shiva has brought along the bride (Hadis Pakbaten) and groom (the director's nephew, Majid Panahi) from a recent photo shoot. Her story is the most upsetting one we hear in a film that boils with rage, but still takes its time to play out. The director's anger comes as no surprise, though audiences may be caught off-guard by the humor, as in a shot of the couple pushing the van in their wedding gown and tuxedo. As the livid bride-to-be tells the man she's supposed to marry, 'It all started before you, and it has to stop someday.' That's the takeaway warning from a film that will almost certainly bring fresh heat on Panahi. While the simple premise recalls certain post-WW2 dramas, in which survivors recognize the Nazi culprits who once terrorized them, the film's chilling last scene feels like a call to action. For most of its running time, 'It Was Just an Accident' leaves unanswered whether Vahid and company have the right one-legged man. In a sense, it doesn't matter. The movie shows that those who've been wronged — for protesting unfair working conditions or appearing immodestly dressed in public — are now united by their mistreatment. Case in point, the characters' backstories were directly inspired by things Panahi heard while incarcerated, suggesting that he couldn't have written this movie without meeting like-minded people in prison. That means, even if the authorities crack down on Panahi, he's not alone. Best of Variety The Best Albums of the Decade
Yahoo
19-05-2025
- Entertainment
- Yahoo
Quentin Tarantino's Favorite Movies: 65 Films the Director Wants You to See
To say that few filmmakers love movies as much as Quentin Tarantino is a staggering understatement. Few people love movies as much as Quentin Tarantino, and the cinephile's tastes continue to shape Hollywood. The video store clerk-turned-director has spent decades dazzling interviewers and fans with his unparalleled knowledge of cinema history, with tastes that range from universally acclaimed classics to more obscure and even lowbrow fare. While his love of spaghetti Westerns and exploitation flicks has always been well-documented, Tarantino isn't afraid to publicly embrace the modern or mainstream. He proudly championed 'Top Gun: Maverick' in the summer of 2022, as did so many others. Not to mention, he's a fan of rom-coms, particularly on long flights. (He once dubbed Kate Hudson 'the queen of the skies' and he's not wrong!) The man just loves cinema, and if a film entertains him, he's going to tell the world about it. More from IndieWire Kate Mara on Treating 'Friendship' Like a 'Dramatic' Indie and the Surprisingly 'Weird' Connection to Werner Herzog 'Renoir' Review: An 11-Year-Old Girl Ponders the Mysteries of the Universe in Chie Hayakawa's Extremely Low-Key Coming-of-Age Drama 'Highest 2 Lowest' Review: Spike Lee Returns with a Jarringly Fun and Upbeat Riff on One of Akira Kurosawa's Bleakest Films From 'Reservoir Dogs' to 'Inglourious Basterds,' Tarantino's filmography draws directly from the movies he likes most. He's been inspired by blaxploitation (see elements of 'Jackie Brown') and samurai epics (as in the 'Kill Bill' duology). When he's not paying tribute to film history in his directing, Tarantino keeps talking about cinema in both the veins of criticism and geekery. In 2022, the filmmaker and his 'Pulp Fiction' co-writer Roger Avary launched the Video Archives Podcast, which sees the duo revisiting many of the films they used to watch on VHS when they worked at the iconic video store together. Tarantino set out to do something similar in his book 'Cinema Speculation,' which arrived on shelves in October 2022. Season 1 of the podcast, which released its finale episode on June 12, 2023, gave Tarantino a new outlet to share his opinions about movies and the world is richer for it. But even with a tour guide, diving into Tarantino's favorite movies is a wild journey and one that will undeniably leave you with a more well-rounded knowledge of cinema. At the very least, it's a great place to go when you're finished rewatching his old work and are once again twiddling your thumbs waiting for news of the auteur's long-fabled tenth film. Keep reading for a roundup of 64 of Quentin Tarantino's favorite movies, listed in no particular order. Then, check out a list of films he doesn't recommend. Alison Foreman, Zack Sharf, and Christian Zilko contributed to this article. [Editor's note: The following list was originally published in May 2019 and has been updated multiple times since.] Best of IndieWire The 19 Best Thrillers Streaming on Netflix in May, from 'Fair Play' to 'Emily the Criminal' Martin Scorsese's Favorite Movies: 86 Films the Director Wants You to See Christopher Nolan's Favorite Movies: 44 Films the Director Wants You to See
Yahoo
15-05-2025
- Entertainment
- Yahoo
Movie Review: The Weeknd's 'Hurry Up Tomorrow' is a surrealist vanity project
NEW YORK (AP) — It's the final night of tour. SoFi Stadium, just outside Los Angeles, is packed. 80,000 fans stand before The Weeknd, an endless sea of blinding lights. The bestselling artist born Abel Tesfaye emerges onstage. He launches into the first song. Less than a minute goes by, and the unthinkable happens: His voice cracks. And then it is gone. That September night in 2022 marked a turning point for Tesfaye. He mines the scene in 'Hurry Up Tomorrow, ' where, ironically, it arrives too late. The tedium of an incoherent first act paints the charismatic performer — one of the last few decades' most popular — as an unempathetic protagonist in a nonlinear and nonsensical world. But how much of The Weeknd is here, really? In his first leading role in a feature film, directed by Trey Edward Shults, Tesfaye plays a fictionalized version of himself, an insomniac musician (as made explicitly clear in the 'Wake Me Up' leitmotif, where he sings, 'Sun is never rising / I don't know if it's day or night'). He's marred by a recent breakup from an ex portrayed in a cruel voicemail message ('I used to think you were a good person,' she says) and a hedonistic lifestyle, instigated by his superficial friend-manager Lee, played Barry Keoghan. Shortly after Tesfaye loses his voice, a psychosomatic ailment, he meets superfan Amina, portrayed by Jenna Ortega. She offers temporary comfort and, in return, is afforded no agency. She exists for him. Soon, the uninspired horrors begin, culminating in what recalls the torture scene in 'Reservoir Dogs' with less violence. Instead, Amina — when she is not weeping; I urge all viewers to keep a 'cry count' and consider what feminist blogs might have to say — lip-syncs some of The Weeknd's biggest hits back to him, explaining that they're all about 'emptiness and heartbreak.' Woven throughout is some conversation about absent fathers and fear of abandonment, with unearned delivery and first-draft acuity — something gesturing at depth without piercing the surface. According to press materials, Amina and Lee are not real people but representations of Tesfaye. She is meant to represent Tesfaye's disconnected, 'deeper emotional self' — and Lee, his public persona. That is not made explicitly clear in the film, except in a very generous reading of the ending. Subtext only works when there is context to back it up, otherwise, you are left with 'Hurry Up Tomorrow': an exciting vanity project with surrealist imagination but stiff writing, no stakes, limited emotional weight and an unclear narrative. That won't be an issue for superfans, of course — those intimately familiar with The Weeknd's music and career. This film appears to be for them and Tesfaye, a producer, alone; they have the framework in which to enjoy the runtime. Considering that fandom is the dominant form of popular culture, it's not a bad business decision. And it's worked for him before. This is not Tesfaye's first foray into acting. Aside from his cameo in 'Uncut Gems,' he starred in HBO's 2023 series 'The Idol. ' He co-created the show with Sam Levinson, a show that similarly presented unearned provocation. At the time, 'The Idol' received criticism for its sadomasochistic storytelling that emerged after a shift away from 'the female perspective,' allegedly a request from Tesfaye. It was not a clever or subversive show, nor was it really even about anything, but it did inspire conversation. It's easy to see how 'Hurry Up Tomorrow' may have similar effects. In a moment where autobiographical films about musicians are playful and creative — Pharrell Williams' Lego partnership 'Piece by Piece' comes to mind, as does Robbie Williams' ' Better Man ' — 'Hurry Up Tomorrow' feels like a misstep for those outside The Weeknd's most devoted. Of course, the film does not identify as a biopic. But it could've benefited from less self-seriousness. And editing. But what about the music? 'Hurry Up Tomorrow' is connected to Tesfaye's latest album of the same name — and the final chapter in The Weeknd's record-breaking trilogy that began with 2020's 'After Hours' and continued with 2022's 'Dawn FM.' The album, the quietest of the series, worked as an allegory on the trials of fame — a topic long covered by the most successful purveyors of pop. Retrospectively, it works best as a film's soundtrack than a stand-alone record, ambitious. Like the movie, it gestures at criticism of the celebrity-industrial complex without accomplishing it. It seems obvious, now, to learn that the movie predates the record. The film's strength far and away is its score, composed by Tesfaye with Daniel Lopatin (better known as the experimental electronic musician Oneohtrix Point Never and for his 'Good Time' and 'Uncut Gems' scores). It builds from Tesfaye's discography and morphs into something physical and psychedelic — at its most elated, dread-filled and clubby. It is so affecting, it almost distracts from moments of dizzying cinematography, with the films' penchant for spinning frames, zooms into upside skylines, blurred vision and erratic lights. Those tools feel better suited for a music video, the kind of sophisticated visual world Tesfaye has developed in his pop career. They elevate his euphoric, layered, evocative dance-pop, but they do not translate in this film. 'Hurry Up Tomorrow,' a Lionsgate release, is rated R by the Motion Picture Association for language throughout, drug use, some bloody violence and brief nudity. Running time: 105 minutes. One and a half stars out of four.
15-05-2025
- Entertainment
Movie Review: The Weeknd's 'Hurry Up Tomorrow' is a surrealist vanity project
NEW YORK -- It's the final night of tour. SoFi Stadium, just outside Los Angeles, is packed. 80,000 fans stand before The Weeknd, an endless sea of blinding lights. The bestselling artist born Abel Tesfaye emerges onstage. He launches into the first song. Less than a minute goes by, and the unthinkable happens: His voice cracks. And then it is gone. That September night in 2022 marked a turning point for Tesfaye. He mines the scene in 'Hurry Up Tomorrow, ' where, ironically, it arrives too late. The tedium of an incoherent first act paints the charismatic performer — one of the last few decades' most popular — as an unempathetic protagonist in a nonlinear and nonsensical world. But how much of The Weeknd is here, really? In his first leading role in a feature film, directed by Trey Edward Shults, Tesfaye plays a fictionalized version of himself, an insomniac musician (as made explicitly clear in the 'Wake Me Up' leitmotif, where he sings, 'Sun is never rising / I don't know if it's day or night'). He's marred by a recent breakup from an ex portrayed in a cruel voicemail message ('I used to think you were a good person,' she says) and a hedonistic lifestyle, instigated by his superficial friend-manager Lee, played Barry Keoghan. Shortly after Tesfaye loses his voice, a psychosomatic ailment, he meets superfan Amina, portrayed by Jenna Ortega. She offers temporary comfort and, in return, is afforded no agency. She exists for him. Soon, the uninspired horrors begin, culminating in what recalls the torture scene in 'Reservoir Dogs' with less violence. Instead, Amina — when she is not weeping; I urge all viewers to keep a 'cry count' and consider what feminist blogs might have to say — lip-syncs some of The Weeknd's biggest hits back to him, explaining that they're all about 'emptiness and heartbreak.' Woven throughout is some conversation about absent fathers and fear of abandonment, with unearned delivery and first-draft acuity — something gesturing at depth without piercing the surface. According to press materials, Amina and Lee are not real people but representations of Tesfaye. She is meant to represent Tesfaye's disconnected, 'deeper emotional self' — and Lee, his public persona. That is not made explicitly clear in the film, except in a very generous reading of the ending. Subtext only works when there is context to back it up, otherwise, you are left with 'Hurry Up Tomorrow': an exciting vanity project with surrealist imagination but stiff writing, no stakes, limited emotional weight and an unclear narrative. That won't be an issue for superfans, of course — those intimately familiar with The Weeknd's music and career. This film appears to be for them and Tesfaye, a producer, alone; they have the framework in which to enjoy the runtime. Considering that fandom is the dominant form of popular culture, it's not a bad business decision. And it's worked for him before. This is not Tesfaye's first foray into acting. Aside from his cameo in 'Uncut Gems,' he starred in HBO's 2023 series 'The Idol. ' He co-created the show with Sam Levinson, a show that similarly presented unearned provocation. At the time, 'The Idol' received criticism for its sadomasochistic storytelling that emerged after a shift away from 'the female perspective,' allegedly a request from Tesfaye. It was not a clever or subversive show, nor was it really even about anything, but it did inspire conversation. It's easy to see how 'Hurry Up Tomorrow' may have similar effects. In a moment where autobiographical films about musicians are playful and creative — Pharrell Williams' Lego partnership 'Piece by Piece' comes to mind, as does Robbie Williams' ' Better Man ' — 'Hurry Up Tomorrow' feels like a misstep for those outside The Weeknd's most devoted. Of course, the film does not identify as a biopic. But it could've benefited from less self-seriousness. And editing. But what about the music? 'Hurry Up Tomorrow' is connected to Tesfaye's latest album of the same name — and the final chapter in The Weeknd's record-breaking trilogy that began with 2020's 'After Hours' and continued with 2022's 'Dawn FM.' The album, the quietest of the series, worked as an allegory on the trials of fame — a topic long covered by the most successful purveyors of pop. Retrospectively, it works best as a film's soundtrack than a stand-alone record, ambitious. Like the movie, it gestures at criticism of the celebrity-industrial complex without accomplishing it. It seems obvious, now, to learn that the movie predates the record. The film's strength far and away is its score, composed by Tesfaye with Daniel Lopatin (better known as the experimental electronic musician Oneohtrix Point Never and for his 'Good Time' and 'Uncut Gems' scores). It builds from Tesfaye's discography and morphs into something physical and psychedelic — at its most elated, dread-filled and clubby. It is so affecting, it almost distracts from moments of dizzying cinematography, with the films' penchant for spinning frames, zooms into upside skylines, blurred vision and erratic lights. Those tools feel better suited for a music video, the kind of sophisticated visual world Tesfaye has developed in his pop career. They elevate his euphoric, layered, evocative dance-pop, but they do not translate in this film. 'Hurry Up Tomorrow,' a Lionsgate release, is rated R by the Motion Picture Association for language throughout, drug use, some bloody violence and brief nudity. Running time: 105 minutes. One and a half stars out of four.
Winnipeg Free Press
15-05-2025
- Entertainment
- Winnipeg Free Press
Movie Review: The Weeknd's ‘Hurry Up Tomorrow' is a surrealist vanity project
NEW YORK (AP) — It's the final night of tour. SoFi Stadium, just outside Los Angeles, is packed. 80,000 fans stand before The Weeknd, an endless sea of blinding lights. The bestselling artist born Abel Tesfaye emerges onstage. He launches into the first song. Less than a minute goes by, and the unthinkable happens: His voice cracks. And then it is gone. That September night in 2022 marked a turning point for Tesfaye. He mines the scene in 'Hurry Up Tomorrow, ' where, ironically, it arrives too late. The tedium of an incoherent first act paints the charismatic performer — one of the last few decades' most popular — as an unempathetic protagonist in a nonlinear and nonsensical world. But how much of The Weeknd is here, really? In his first leading role in a feature film, directed by Trey Edward Shults, Tesfaye plays a fictionalized version of himself, an insomniac musician (as made explicitly clear in the 'Wake Me Up' leitmotif, where he sings, 'Sun is never rising / I don't know if it's day or night'). He's marred by a recent breakup from an ex portrayed in a cruel voicemail message ('I used to think you were a good person,' she says) and a hedonistic lifestyle, instigated by his superficial friend-manager Lee, played Barry Keoghan. Shortly after Tesfaye loses his voice, a psychosomatic ailment, he meets superfan Amina, portrayed by Jenna Ortega. She offers temporary comfort and, in return, is afforded no agency. She exists for him. Soon, the uninspired horrors begin, culminating in what recalls the torture scene in 'Reservoir Dogs' with less violence. Instead, Amina — when she is not weeping; I urge all viewers to keep a 'cry count' and consider what feminist blogs might have to say — lip-syncs some of The Weeknd's biggest hits back to him, explaining that they're all about 'emptiness and heartbreak.' Woven throughout is some conversation about absent fathers and fear of abandonment, with unearned delivery and first-draft acuity — something gesturing at depth without piercing the surface. According to press materials, Amina and Lee are not real people but representations of Tesfaye. She is meant to represent Tesfaye's disconnected, 'deeper emotional self' — and Lee, his public persona. That is not made explicitly clear in the film, except in a very generous reading of the ending. Subtext only works when there is context to back it up, otherwise, you are left with 'Hurry Up Tomorrow': an exciting vanity project with surrealist imagination but stiff writing, no stakes, limited emotional weight and an unclear narrative. That won't be an issue for superfans, of course — those intimately familiar with The Weeknd's music and career. This film appears to be for them and Tesfaye, a producer, alone; they have the framework in which to enjoy the runtime. Considering that fandom is the dominant form of popular culture, it's not a bad business decision. And it's worked for him before. This is not Tesfaye's first foray into acting. Aside from his cameo in 'Uncut Gems,' he starred in HBO's 2023 series 'The Idol. ' He co-created the show with Sam Levinson, a show that similarly presented unearned provocation. At the time, 'The Idol' received criticism for its sadomasochistic storytelling that emerged after a shift away from 'the female perspective,' allegedly a request from Tesfaye. It was not a clever or subversive show, nor was it really even about anything, but it did inspire conversation. It's easy to see how 'Hurry Up Tomorrow' may have similar effects. Winnipeg Jets Game Days On Winnipeg Jets game days, hockey writers Mike McIntyre and Ken Wiebe send news, notes and quotes from the morning skate, as well as injury updates and lineup decisions. Arrives a few hours prior to puck drop. In a moment where autobiographical films about musicians are playful and creative — Pharrell Williams' Lego partnership 'Piece by Piece' comes to mind, as does Robbie Williams' ' Better Man ' — 'Hurry Up Tomorrow' feels like a misstep for those outside The Weeknd's most devoted. Of course, the film does not identify as a biopic. But it could've benefited from less self-seriousness. And editing. But what about the music? 'Hurry Up Tomorrow' is connected to Tesfaye's latest album of the same name — and the final chapter in The Weeknd's record-breaking trilogy that began with 2020's 'After Hours' and continued with 2022's 'Dawn FM.' The album, the quietest of the series, worked as an allegory on the trials of fame — a topic long covered by the most successful purveyors of pop. Retrospectively, it works best as a film's soundtrack than a stand-alone record, ambitious. Like the movie, it gestures at criticism of the celebrity-industrial complex without accomplishing it. It seems obvious, now, to learn that the movie predates the record. The film's strength far and away is its score, composed by Tesfaye with Daniel Lopatin (better known as the experimental electronic musician Oneohtrix Point Never and for his 'Good Time' and 'Uncut Gems' scores). It builds from Tesfaye's discography and morphs into something physical and psychedelic — at its most elated, dread-filled and clubby. It is so affecting, it almost distracts from moments of dizzying cinematography, with the films' penchant for spinning frames, zooms into upside skylines, blurred vision and erratic lights. Those tools feel better suited for a music video, the kind of sophisticated visual world Tesfaye has developed in his pop career. They elevate his euphoric, layered, evocative dance-pop, but they do not translate in this film. 'Hurry Up Tomorrow,' a Lionsgate release, is rated R by the Motion Picture Association for language throughout, drug use, some bloody violence and brief nudity. Running time: 105 minutes. One and a half stars out of four.
