Maud (Morfydd Clark) is possessed by the Holy Spirit. She’s a recent Catholic convert who just took up
a caretaking job for terminally ill Amanda (Jennifer Ehle), an indulgent dancer and choreographer
who’s determined to live her final days to the fullest. Maud takes up Amanda’s salvation as a personal project to
atone for the sins of her past–before she took the name Maud, she was known as Katie, a nurse who accidentally
caused the death of a patient. But Maud’s selfish and fanatical efforts to save the dancer are complicated by the
fact that Amanda prefers hedonism, and, although they share a charged moment where they claim to feel God’s presence,
Amanda simply doesn’t share Maud’s fervor. After a conflict involving the dancer’s hired lover, Maud gets kicked out
and decides to go on a hedonistic streak of her own. The horror film is as much about a crisis of faith as it is about unacknowledged desires, which threaten to eat anyone alive.
The Tina Turner documentary didn’t launch a thousand think pieces like its cousin, Framing Britney Spears, did. There’s many reasons for its standard coverage–Turner isn’t the subject of a spirited battle over conservatorship rights, for one thing–but that doesn’t make the film any less revelatory in its recontextualization of the media coverage surrounding the megastar. If you’re not familiar with Turner’s story, then you should know that she rose to international fame after Ike Turner heard her sing and invited her to join his band. The couple went on to build a successful career together, all the while Ike subjected her to physical and verbal abuse in marriage. His assaults were so appalling and nightmarish that Turner attempted suicide. After two decades, she successfully ran away from her husband and began an extraordinary solo career, dogged by racist, idiotic executives who questioned a middle aged woman’s ability to find an audience for her rock music. Meanwhile, she faced the media, which was determined to retraumatize the star by asking her to give an account of the abuse she faced–or using her story as fodder for books and movies–effectively monetizing her pain. At the end of the documentary, an 81-year-old Turner considers making this film her last public appearance, as is her right. She’s already given us far more than we deserve.
‘Judas and the Black Messiah’
Shaka King’s Judas and the Black Messiah feels like a one-two punch full of dread and anxiety.
We don’t need the events of the past year to know that the Black Panther Party wasn’t successful
in their goal of political liberation and economic justice–a robust vision which included tools to tackle inequalities in housing,
education, and healthcare, together with prison and police abolition. But what we did need was an assertion
that the history of Black resistance is a long, storied one, and Shaka King took a stab at portraying it.
In the first narrative portrayal of the rise of charismatic Black Panther Party Chairman Fred Hampton (Daniel Kaluuya)
and his murder by the FBI, we see how an embedded informant (LaKeith Stanfield) helped arrange Hampton’s death.
While the movie eschews character development for a straightforward biographical treatment of both the informant and Hampton,
the film is worth watching for the simple revelation that the United States actively targeted (and still targets) activists
in the name of some white supremacist version of “freedom.” Taken with the strength of Kaluuya’s Golden Globe-winning
and Oscar-nominated performance, it’s a film that elucidates the oft-ignored history of Black liberation. Although it only just scratches the surface. ดูหนังออนไลน์