Tag Archives: Recommended

APOCRYPHA CANDIDATE: MYTH OF MAN (2025)

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DIRECTED BY: Jamin Winans

FEATURING: Laura Rauch, Anthony Nuccio, Ian Hinton, Martin Angerbauer, Sidney Edwards

PLOT: Ella desperately seeks information which might lead her to god before she succumbs to death from a brush with an incendiary fog.

Still from Myth of Man (2025)

WHY IT MIGHT JOIN THE APOCRYPHA: Winans’ world, characters, score, and all that work so well together as a unit that the Myth of Man feels completely natural. But—this is a dialogue-free adventure quest set in a cotton-candy dystopia featuring neat gizmos and unconventional physics whose heroine is a deaf and mute messiah seeking an interstellar artist-creator-god. This strangeness cannot be overlooked merely because it is so credibly conveyed by the filmmakers.

COMMENTS: The first thing which catches your eye is the glowing rectangle on Ella’s shoulder. It pulses a soft green color as she looks about her train car. An unkempt youth enters the carriage, his indicator flickering red. Shunned by the others—all of whom feature blinking green—Ella is struck by the tragedy, and goes over to the sickly boy. He dies soon thereafter, but not before Ella hands him an odd, humanoid figurine of wire; on his passing she clasps his hand, and feels something, nearly seeing it.

Our first brush with Myth of Man lays out much of the groundwork. Not only do we understand the odd “HUD” system in place, but plenty of other things: this is a visual world, as necessitated by the protagonist’s circumstances. Ella’s eyes wander constantly (typically accompanied by a subtle smile), as she takes in the ambient wonders of her day-to-day existence. Great machines whir in the background and foreground; cybernetic telepathy enhancements summon a dazzling animation of a Creator; black-market medicine extracts the incipient humors of death; and warning systems blare scarlet at the approach of the frequent death clouds that descend upon the metropolis.

Jamin Winans’ latest film continues his tradition of low-cost, high-impact marvels. With nods to City of Lost Children‘s technological elements, as well as the defiant triumph of humanity lurking under the surface in Brazil, he paints us a picture of a futuristic society existing under the omnipresence of cindering doom (the effects of the gas are unlike anything I’d seen before) in a society which manifests as something of a reluctant police state. Eye-popping visuals abound, and Ella’s cryptic forays into the afterlife astound with their windswept vistas of photographs and assembled flip-book recollections. The enchantment worms its way quickly into the viewer, so once the inevitable tragedy falls, the whole exercise feels not only satisfying, but rational; even though we’ve just undergone a strange and fabulous dream.

WHAT THE CRITICS SAY:

“Part animated, part live action, part surrealism, and 100% without dialogue, Myth of Man is unlike anything you’ve seen before.”–Avi Offer, NYC Movie Guru (contemporaneous)

APOCRYPHA CANDIDATE: UNIVERSAL LANGUAGE (2024)

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DIRECTED BY:

FEATURING: Matthew Rankin, Rojina Esmaeili, Saba Vahedyousefi, Pirouz Nemati

PLOT: The lives of a civil servant, a tour guide, two girls searching for a way to thaw a banknote frozen in ice, and a turkey magnate collide in a Winnipeg where everyone inexplicably speaks Farsi.

Still from universal language (2024)

WHY IT MIGHT JOIN THE APOCRYPHA: Rankin’s icy fantasia is the premier (well, only) fusion of Canadian absurdism and Iranian neorealism.

COMMENTS: You’re a director infatuated with Iranian realist dramas, but you live in Winnipeg. What do you do? Round up every Farsi speaker in Manitoba and put them into a comedy set in Canada, obviously. Be sure to include a guy wandering around dressed like a Christmas tree, a shrine to an abandoned briefcase, and a turkey beauty contest-winner, just for that added note of realism.

Universal Language‘s plot is a woven Persian rug, composed of three major strands: two sisters hunt for a way to retrieve a 500 Rial note they find frozen under several inches of ice, a disillusioned civil servant returns home after an unhappy stint in Quebec, and a tour guide leads a bored group through the city’s bland attractions (“Winnipeg is a strange destination for tourism”). Most of the action occurs in a range from Winnipeg’s Beige District all the way to its Grey District, along bazaar-like streets bustling with street vendors. And surprisingly, despite its many detours though drag bingo parlors, Persian Tim Hortons, and shots of beautiful turkeys, in the end every plot corner clicks in place like a piece in a puzzle. It’s thoroughly comedic and absurd, but by the time Rankin turns sincere for the ending, it works, because the committed comedy of the earlier scenes seduces you into accepting this bizarre world as a real place.

Rankin’s debut feature, The Twentieth Century, was (to say the least) heavily indebted to (who Ranking calls “one of my cinematic parents”). Here, Rankin moves only slightly out of the shadow of Maddin, only to position himself under a canopy of other directors. Scenes like the guy who dresses as a Christmas tree, and other dreamlike comic surprises I won’t spoil, could have been dreamed up by . The bit where Matthew buys sleeping pills would fit comfortably in a sketch. Besides these, there’s all the Iranian directors, led by . (Several of Universal Language‘s plotlines are lifted from Iranian movies, although heavily warped and refracted by the narrative lens.) And in an interview included with the press kit, Rankin acknowledges everyone from to to the (among the less obscure names) as influences. In some sense, Universal Language nothing but a shameless pastiche of homages; but, because it reflects such specific tastes and obsessions, it creates a unique universe. And paradoxically, that very eclecticism is what makes the film so relatable. Rankin isn’t shy about his influences, which is refreshing. He’s working towards a cinema of tributes. And cinema is a universal language.

WHAT THE CRITICS SAY:

“By converting his drab hometown into an exotic land filled with nostalgia (albeit a very niche nostalgia, primarily for Criterion Channel subscribers), Rankin seems to be seeking out the universal language of cinema itself. In his own very weird way he manages to find it, turning an everyday place into something momentarily special — which is what all good movies are meant to do.”–Jordan Mintzer, The Hollywood Reporter (festival screening)

IT CAME FROM THE READER SUGGESTED QUEUE: JOE VERSUS THE VOLCANO (1990)

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DIRECTED BY: John Patrick Shanley

FEATURING: , , ,

PLOT: A terminally-ill sales executive quits his dreary job and agrees to jump into a volcano.

Still from Joe vs. the Volcano (1990)

COMMENTS: What makes a man give up a career as a firefighter—enthusiastic, feeling good all the time, and casually courageous—to become an administrative drone at the worst factory this side of Staten Island? Apparently it’s three-hundred dollars a week. That’s small change for getting your spirit crushed eight hours a day: working under a foul-tempered boss, drinking arsenic coffee, and feeling your brain fry as you soak up the rays of droning fluorescent lights.

And what makes a man throw everything away and opt to willingly toss himself into a volcano?

This second question makes up the bulk of John Patrick Shanley’s directorial debut, Joe Versus the Volcano. (Which, for the longest time, was the famed screenwriters only directorial outing.) Shanley is at his peak picaresque powers, impressively avoiding the “cutesy trap” as he maneuvers his charming leads—and guest actors—through a well-paced, well-plotted, well-shot adventure, toward a seemingly inevitable end. Indeed, there’s so much buoyancy in the cast and tone that the semi-demi-hemi-twist of fate ends up being, in hindsight, the only viable fate for our passive hero.

Odd and awful, Hedaya steals his ten minutes as a supervisor; despite half his lines being over the telephone—and half of those lines being “I didn’t say that!” Comedy stalwart Lloyd Bridges swans in as a rogue fairy godmother, belittling Joe and his apartment before offering the improbable plot hook, just after opening a canister of salted peanuts and emptying them on the coffee table. And thrice-credited Meg Ryan delights as the three women Joe pursues (well, ends up in the vicinity of by mere happenstance…), showing a playful versatility which mirrors the trajectory of Joe’s self awareness.

Joe Versus the Volcano does more than immolate us in a firewall of charm. Joe’s job at “Parascope” (famed both for its rectal probes and impressive petroleum jelly sales) is a Dantean combination of German Expressionism and grime. The jagged pathway to the godawful factory (which mimicks Parascope’s trade logo while bringing to mind Caligarian sets) delivers us, from the start, into the blurry, grit-sheened hell of industrial living. We meet Joe here, and Joe needs must be Hanks. We need to like this loser, who has fallen from grace (or whatever echelon former-firefighters fall from). His performance is a charismatic variation of Ryan O’Neal’s turn as Barry Lyndon. But whereas O’Neal’s Lyndon was mired in a cynically reactive worldview, Hanks’ Joe is capable of awe and appreciation—which is why Shanley’s fluffy romcom works so well, and why we end up heartily rooting for Joe to overcome the looming trial-by-magma.

WHAT THE CRITICS SAY:

“Gradually during the opening scenes of Joe Versus the Volcano, my heart began to quicken, until finally I realized a wondrous thing: I had not seen this movie before… Hanks and Ryan … inhabit the logic of this bizarre world and play by its rules. ” — Roger Ebert, Chicago Sun-Times (contemporaneous)

Joe Versus the Volcano [Blu-ray]
  • Polish Release, cover may contain Polish text/markings. The disk has English audio.

SLAMDANCE FILM FESTIVAL: APOCRYPHA CANDIDATE: IN THE MOUTH (2025)

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DIRECTED BY: Cory Santilli

FEATURING: Colin Burgess, Paul Michael

PLOT: Merl, a shut-in forced to take in a roommate to cover the rent, fears his giant head that slumbers on the front lawn.

 Still from In the Mouth (2025)

WHY IT MIGHT MAKE THE APOCRYPHA: The central premise, as explained above, is enough to make this an easy in; but Santilli’s one-set comedy also lays on plenty of quirky flourishes on top of this (massive) conceit.

COMMENTS: Merl lives in a world of his own. This world is made up of an undefined number of rooms, and a narrow hallway just long enough for him to scooter around through it—kind of. Making the corners is a little tough. Merl cannot leave his home, relying on a pulley system to retrieve his mail, and a dino-head bite grip to pull in the larger parcels which do not fit in his mailbox. His world ends at his front door. Beyond that door is our world, peopled by complicated types demanding rent, and inhabited by a head that’s roughly one story tall. It usually slumbers, but intermittently reminds Merl of its presence with booming yawns.

Writer/director Cory Santilli builds a narrative terrarium for his protagonist. Merl lives a highly unscheduled life: puttering around, arranging objets, and avoiding the invader, Margaret, who owns the property in question. Informed both by classic “creature features”—see credit’s title font and hear the title music—and noir—jazz music flairs and crisp, black and white cinematography pleases the eye—Santilli bends these livelier genres to his own quiet ends, and then upends the tone and action by introducing a criminal on the run. Interloper Larry is both a lens to view our subject anew and a means of creating empathy for the odd protagonist. He calls Merl “brother”, and insists that Merl do please call him “Lah”—because it’s easier. (Merl matter-of-factly inquires, “Is it?”)

Whether or not Merl’s rent gets paid is something of a moot point. Santilli takes his viewers on an up-close journey through the daily struggles and joys of an agoraphobic, choosing a delightfully apt metaphor to do so. It’s a funny film, too, with ’90s nostalgia (how many people have AskedJeeves™ how to dispose of a corpse?) and genre-twisting (this first time I’ve witnessed the Good Cop / Deaf Cop trope). Complications leave Merl with a bag of cash and a body to dispose of. This, despite all the “baby cameras” (not cameras for babies, mind, but cameras hidden in the creepy little baby-headed figurines Merl accumulates) secreted about the house. So, where else to put the corpse, but…

In The Mouth is a strange little character study kept under the watchful eye of an absurd premise: this head in the front lawn. Merl’s head. It is Merl’s keeper, and in true form of a domineering partner, his protector.  While Merl’s world appears to be large enough, we know—and he knows—that a paradigm shift must eventually come to a head.

In the Mouth debuted at Slamdance Film Festival in February 2025. We’ll keep you abreast of any distribution plans when we know more.

WHAT THE CRITICS SAY:

“…such a bold, weird, creative film…”–Shane Conto, Wasteland Reviews (festival screening)

CAPSULE: LONGLEGS (2024)

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DIRECTED BY: Osgood Perkins

FEATURING: Maika Monroe, Nicolas Cage, Alicia Witt, Blair Underwood

PLOT: The FBI assigns Special Agent Harker to a 20-year-old serial murder case, triggering a serious of unsettling breakthroughs.

Still from Longlegs (2024)

COMMENTS: What’s that expression—Longlegs, short review? Some thirty-dozen reviews for this Cage-y bit of strange are out there, so let us dive quickly, and deeply, into the merits of Osgood Perkins’ latest outing. Be warned: we shall be heading far away into lands of the Pacific Northwest, and back in time to a magical period known as “the ’90s”.

The sights and sounds will be familiar to some; but none will be more familiar than the sight of Nicolas Cage being crazy-go-nuts. But come to think of it, he is rendered somewhat unrecognizable: invariably coated in off-white makeup, and buried beneath a chubbed-out face. Whenever Longlegs goes off on a spiel, though, we hear Nic busting out of this cage. Much of this film’s appeal manifests during the (shrewdly) intermittent dosing of this titular oddity.

What Longlegs gets up to is where the nostalgia comes in. (And—if I may editorialize a moment—not that tedious kind on display from a more famous filmmaker.) That special time, The ’90s, oozes from every pore—and wrapped within the main throw-back are bursts of the ’70s, as our baddy loves T. Rex, Lou Reed, and Duran Duran. Our heroine, Special Agent Harker (a spectacularly spectrometric Maika Monroe), lives up to her namesake: an eye for detail, quiet courage, a a pull toward the supernatural, and a fate that can best be described as “mixed.”

Satanic Panic, alas, can only be taken so lightly: in this corner of the US, Satan appears altogether too real. How does Longlegs do their thing? (I emphasize that pronoun: it’s not altogether clear just how Cage’s character views themselves.) However they do it, they perform their deadly spree amongst stark snow-lighting, cool-as-thriller interiors, and, one of my favorite flourishes, inside a house with twin-point front roofing which forms—you guessed it—the shape of longlegs legs.

So, bust out the Shark Bites, pop a straw in your Capri Sun, and take a dangerous walk through a valley of diabolic dolls.

WHAT THE CRITICS SAY:

“Perkins combines the grisly realism of a crime-scene photograph with the startling surreality of a nightmare… Cage does his version of warbly-voiced weirdo crooner Tiny Tim – an affectation that would be bonkers coming from anyone else, but is just another day at work for Cage.”–Katie Rife, IGN (contemporaneous)