Dracula [2025]

 Romanian provocateur and lampooner Radu Jude’s Dracula – his second outing in 2025 after Kontinental '25, both shot using iPhones – was a profane dissection of Romania’s most famous export, ferocious depiction of how troubling historical events are appropriated by consumerist societies into kitschy money-spinners, and lurid commentary on the blood-sucking vampirism of AI in cinema (and arts in general). After the relatively more restrained (though no less cutting) last film, Jude returned to his maximalist ways – and further amped up his preferred episodic form – in this unhinged and outrageous work that was a brutal parody, farce, burlesque, satire and critique rolled into one. Comprising of multiple chapters of disparate lengths and tones over a three-hour length and connected by a linked narrative, the film felt uneven and overdone on occasions, while unabashedly delivering a riotous potpourri of politics, history, sex, violence, comedy, metatextual referentiality, societal takedowns, celebration of lowbrow aesthetics, and chaotic experimentation. A gleefully vulgar filmmaker (Adonis Tanța) wants to make a commercial movie on Bram Stoker’s eponymous creation (which had been inspired from the 15^th century ruler Vlad the Impaler, who’d meted out savage punishments to his opponents and is a hero for ultra-right-wing nationalists), but is creatively blocked. He therefore makes use of LLM prompts for a series of gratuitous reimaginations. They include a smutty, Dracula-themed cabaret that allows tourists to engage in carnal and violent roleplays; a sham health centre summoning the Count for psychosomatic treatments; a Dracula reincarnate outraged by his bastardization to hapless visitors; Vlad calling his ghouls to viciously break a defiant union strike; and a PhD student falling for an aristocrat’s daughter in a town haunted by a vampire, amidst religious frenzy.

Director: Radu Jude

Genre: Comedy/Black Comedy/Social Satire/Political Satire/Experimental Film/Anthology Film

Language: Romanian

Country: Romania

Father Mother Sister Brother [2025]

 Father Mother Sister Brother – Jim Jarmusch’s fourth anthology film, a form that he keeps returning to – was interwoven with his love for aimless drifters, low-key emotions, deadpan humour, and loosely-strung stories that don’t reveal any big truths. The overarching theme of this gently idiosyncratic and curiously compelling triptych was the unknowability of the inner workings of one’s parents and a Rorschach test on defining familial relationships through one’s subjective interpretations. In the wryly funny and ironic first episode, “Father”, carrying delectable traits of O’Henry and Maupassant, siblings Jeff (Adam Driver) and Emily (Mayim Bialik) visit their aged, reclusive, widowed and estranged dad (Tom Waits) who stays in remote New Jersey; while they wonder how their father survives with no social security, and his dishevelled cabin confirms their doubts, there’s something brewing underneath which delightfully comes to the fore eventually; the father’s nonconformist existence (which Waits channelled naturally) made for an amusing contrast to his children who’re squares. In the relatively weaker middle chapter “Mother”, the scenario is reversed as two neurotic sisters – the uptight Timothea (Cate Blanchett) and the oddball Lilith (Vicky Krieps) – visit their successful, self-assured mom (Charlotte Rampling) in Dublin, for a rather stiff-collared annual reunion. In the wistful and glorious final chapter “Sister Brother”, that saw Jarmusch operating in commanding form, American-Parisians and fraternal twins Skye (Indya Moore) and Billy (Luka Sabbat) reconnect over the melancholic memories of their bohemian parents – who’ve recently died – over coffee, old photos, their parents’ emptied apartment, and final belongings; it featured a cameo by the legendary Françoise Lebrun. The film featured Dusty Springfield’s seductive song ‘Spooky’, Anika’s haunting rendition of it, oddball connecting threads, and carefree skateboarders representing subaltern freedom.

Director: Jim Jarmusch

Genre: Comedy/Family Drama/Anthology Film

Language: English

Country: US

Calcutta 71 [1972]

 In Calcutta 71, Mrinal Sen constructed a fierce and subversive examination of impoverishment, deprivation, exploitation and the seeds of revolutionary politics, with irony, eclectic influences informed by European New Wave and Third Cinema, and a powerful Marxist lens. Shaped like a multi-act piece, the second film in his magnificent ‘Calcutta Trilogy’ – bookended by Interview and Padatik – was as ferociously political and biting in its social observations as it was dazzling in its blend of formal choices, narrative devices and cinematic styles ranging from classical to experimental. Following an arresting montage, The droll prologue – in the veins of farcical political satire – finds the protagonist from the previous film (Ranjit Mallick) facing an absurdist trial for having exhibited anti-capitalist angst by defiling a mannequin, and featured a hilarious anti-proletarian war waged by the bourgeoisie. That segued into four thematically-linked episodes (adapted from stories by Manik Bandopadhyay, Probodh Sanyal, Samaresh Basu and Ajitesh Bandopadhyay) – a destitute family in the 1930s who’re forced to seek an alternative shelter from incessant rains; a family forced to meet ends through prostitution, while struggling to maintain middle-class respectability, during the 1943 famine; a group of rebellious teenagers smuggling rice by train, braving righteous cops and overbearing middle-class men; and a cocktail party filled with self-centred wealthy humbugs. The first three were made in the neorealist tradition, while the fourth was a quintessential Felliniesque parody. The film ended with a scorching agitprop epilogue where a young Naxal revolutionary, killed by the cops, holding the audience to account. The ensemble cast included Utpal Dutt as a sneering prosecutor, Haradhan Bandopadhyay as an irate judge, Madhabi Mukherjee as a troubled working woman, and Ajitesh Bandopadhyay as a pompous hypocrite.

p.s. This is a revisit.

Director: Mrinal Sen

Genre: Drama/Social Drama/Political Satire/Black Comedy/Omnibus Film/Experimental Film

Language: Bengali

Country: India

The Birds, the Bees and the Italians [1966]

 The ingeniously named The Birds, the Bees and the Italians (the direct translation of its Italian title, interestingly, was simply “Ladies and Gentlemen”) – the concluding chapter in Pietro Germi’s “commedia all'italiana” classic ‘Honour Trilogy’ – distinctively stood out vis-à-vis both its precursors, viz. Divorce Italian Style and Seduced and Abandoned.  For one, this was an episodic film with hyperlinked stories wherein the POV shifted between the same group of men; for another, it was set in the north-eastern region of Veneto, as opposed to the southern Sicilian towns in the preceding films. Germi’s preoccupations with moral codes seeped in provincial expressions of marriage, family, machismo, sexuality and infidelity, using satiric and farcical brushstrokes, were nevertheless there throughout. In the hilarious first story, a garrulous doctor (Gigi Ballista) can’t control his mirth and tongue upon being confided by a womanizer friend of his impotency; this lowering of guard was exactly what his buddy needed to seduce the doctor’s ravishing wife (Beba Lončar). In the middle segment, a morose bank employee (Gastone Moschin), who’s living through hellish marital life on account of his nagging wife, falls for a beautiful cashier (Virna Lisi) at the café frequented by him and his gregarious friends; the trouble starts when, instead of having an affair on the side, which would’ve been more socially acceptable, he decides to elope with his girlfriend. In the final episode, the lecherous men seduce a young girl from the country; upon realizing the legal implications as she’s still a minor, they must jointly suppress the matter. An alcohol-fuelled private party in the first tale, with the camera dizzyingly roving across multiple characters, was this ironic and irreverent film’s most bravura sequence.

Director: Pietro Germi

Genre: Comedy/Black Comedy/Social Satire/Omnibus Film/Ensemble Film

Language: Italian

Country: Italy

Arabian Nights [1974]

 Arabian Nights – Pasolini’s concluding instalment in his audacious, expansive and uninhibited ‘Trilogy of Life’ – was an episodic anthology film that revelled in the joys of storytelling like The Decameron and The Canterbury Tales, the two preceding films in this celebrated triptych on seminal medieval literature. It was even more ambitious in that he had to choose the stories from around a thousand Persian folk tales; filmed it in locations across Iran, Yemen, Nepal and Ethiopia; and conjured a highly intricate narrative web of nested interconnected stories, despite doing away with the iconic framing device featuring Scheherazade. It was, however, possibly the least political of the trio – the sole focus here being the celebration of sensuality in its myriad forms, devoid of restrictive modern-day prejudices –, and the wicked black humour of the earlier films was toned done while freely retaining the source collection’s fantastical nature. The central strand was on the passionate romance between and incredible parallel journeys of Nur-e-Din (Franco Merli), a naïve young guy, and Zumurrud (Ines Pellegrini), a striking slave girl, while the remaining episodes – featuring dazzling locational backdrops and stories-within-stories – covered a spectacular range from impish and intimate to swashbuckling and violent. The one that deserves a special mention involved the impetuous Aziz (Ninetto Davoli) who abandons his bride-to-be Aziza – who, nevertheless, helps him out of selfless love and dies of heartbreak – upon being smitten by a mysterious, bewitching woman. That Davoli had recently broken off his relationship with Pasolini in order to marry a woman, provided a deep personal allegory for the filmmaker. The ignominious fate that Aziz eventually faced at the hands of his hedonistic pursuit, consequently, served as a sardonic cinematic schadenfreude.

Director: Pier Paolo Pasolini

Genre: Comedy/Romantic Comedy/Drama/Fantasy/Anthology Film

Language: Italian/Arabian

Country: Italy

The Canterbury Tales [1972]

 Based on Geoffrey Chaucher’s influential Middle English epic, The Canterbury Tales was Pasolini’s ecstatic and flamboyantly crafted second chapter – positioned between The Decameron and Arabian Nights – in his episodic, iconoclastic and spectacularly boundary-pushing Trilogy of Life. It wasn’t just more luscious and hyperbolic than its predecessor, but also more exultantly unhinged – being unabashedly peppered with graphic carnality and scatological humour – and expressed an even darker world-view. However, while it did manifest rebellious political overtones – in its lashing indictment of organized religion with its unfettered bigotry and hypocrisy; odious depictions of feudal lords and wealthy profit-mongers with their unbridled greed and pomposity; and continued affront towards bourgeois morality – it was, arguably, not as consistently and radically political as the trilogy’s masterful opening salvo. The classic’s frame story was retained here wherein eight tales are narrated by traveling pilgrims and chronicled by a smirking Chaucer (played by Pasolini) – a hideous and obnoxious elderly merchant who becomes blind upon marrying a bored, much younger woman (Josephine Chaplin) who’s aroused by a secret admirer; the violence with which the church punishes sodomy, and the befriending of the devil by a ruthless civil servant; a Chaplin-esque scoundrel (Ninetto Davoli) who lives dangerously and dies nonchalantly by offending everyone; the wooing of an unfulfilled married woman by two young lotharios; an insatiable middle-aged woman who seduces a young academic; two guileless students who exact sweet, salacious revenge against a sly middle-aged miller; three crass buddies who’re tricked by a world-weary old man into becoming murderous beasts; an avaricious monk who gets a glimpse of hell. The last tale, in fact, portrayed arguably the most gleefully grotesque, hilariously offensive and uninhibitedly outrageous cinematic rendition of hell.

Director: Pier Paolo Pasolini

Genre: Black Comedy/Social Satire/Religious Satire/Anthology Film

Language: Italian

Country: Italy

The Decameron [1971]

 Unapologetically ribald, wickedly subversive, gleefully scandalous and vivaciously realized, The Decameron – Pasolini’s extraordinary adaptation of Boccaccio’s mammoth 14^th century volume, and the first chapter in his ‘Trilogy of Life’, followed by The Canterbury Tales and Arabian Nights – was also a profoundly political work. The towering Italian giant – whose avowed Marxism, staggering intellect, homosexuality and insouciant non-conformism made him a trailblazer for many but an anathema to reactionary conservatives – crafted a radical interpretation of the landmark Italian text. He did away with the framing device, chose 10 (out of the 100) stories that appealed to him the most; and gave them a stunning class spin by stripping them of royalty, transplanting them from Florence to Naples which served as a microcosm for the global south within Italy, and scripted it in the Neapolitan dialect. And he furthered these facets by packing it with bawdy humour, provocative sexuality, delirious subversion of organized religion, and deromanticized depiction of the Renaissance-era, laced with gold-digging, backstabbing, promiscuity, hypocrisy and violence. The fabulist, interweaving, vividly composed and thoroughly amoral tales included a swindled guy who joins hands with gravediggers; a deaf-mute simpleton who entices an entire convent of lascivious nuns; a wife’s adultery under the nose of her cuckolded husband; a merchant who lies his way to sainthood despite a life devoted to grotesquerie; the great Giotto’s pupil (played by Pasolini himself) who’s come to paint frescoes in a small church; a young couple whose first libidinous tryst gets spectacularly outed; a coy girl’s unsettling preservation of her murdered boyfriend; a respectable man who takes lewd advantage of a poor gullible couple; and a heavenly pact made between a pious man and his philanderer buddy.

Director: Pier Paolo Pasolini

Genre: Black Comedy/Social Satire/Religious Satire/Anthology Film

Language: Italian

Country: Italy

I Am Cuba (Soy Cuba) [1964]

 Produced by Mosfilm in collaboration with ICAIC to celebrate the Cuban Revolution, and made when the Cold War was at its frostiest nadir – the Bay of Pigs invasion had just been foiled, and the Cuban Missile Crisis was at its craziest peak – Kalatozov’s I Am Cuba was a dizzying, flamboyant, poetic and rousing political agitprop. Yet, ironically, it resonated neither with the Soviets nor the Cubans at the time, and was largely forgotten until its triumphant “rediscovery” by American cinephiles in the 1990s. The omnibus film, set in pre-Castro Cuba, nonchalantly glorified the country’s rebellious streak and revolutionary path through four episodes, where the respective protagonists representing diverse socioeconomic contexts – a young exploited prostitute in a decadent Havana hotel; an impoverished sugarcane farmer whose farms are sold off to the United Fruit Company; an angry student battling against the city’s despotic police alongside his guerrilla comrades; and a devastated farmer turned rebel in the Sierra Maestra mountains – are all at loggerheads with Batista’s draconian system. Sergey Urusevsky’s dazzling cinematography – filled with technical wizardry, bravura single takes, hallucinatory images crafted using wide-angle and infrared photography, oblique camera angles – made this an idiosyncratic tour de force. Its most jaw-dropping tracking shots included  the camera gliding with a fisherman along a narrow canal between shanty houses; capturing a beauty contest atop a crowded skyscraper, traveling down and plunging into a pool; slipping into a traveling bus and culminating with a 360-degree pan-zoom showing a guy’s getting off it, crossing the streets and walking into Havana University; and moving up from a packed lane into a cigar manufacturing unit, flying out of its balcony, and soaring like a bird observing a funeral procession.

Director: Mikhail Kalatozov

Genre: Drama/Anthology Film/Political Agitprop

Language: Spanish

Country: Cuba/Russia

Three Floors [2021]

 In Three Floors, Nanni Moretti transplanted Eshkol Nevo’s acclaimed novel Three Floors Up from Tel Aviv to Rome, for an intricate, interlinked tapestry – three hyperlinked shorts meshed into a crisscrossing whole – that provided for compelling, operatic and voyeuristic peeks into bourgeois dysfunction, malaise, moral transgressions and self-centeredness. Grief, memories, self-destructive streaks, loneliness and unresolved animosities juxtaposed its sombre melancholy while underscoring the wry aphorism that life, despite everything, must go on. The film begun with a brilliant opening sequence that immediately established the context and set the ball rolling for the three families living at an upscale condo in a leafy neighbourhood. Monica (Alba Rohrwacher) – who stays alone under the spectre of insanity, as her husband works in oil-rigs – is trying to catch a ride to the hospital as she’s going into labour, when she witnesses a disturbed young guy (Alessandro Sperduti) – having a turbulent relationship with his disciplinarian father (Moretti) and doting mother Dora (Margherita Buy) – accidentally hit a passer-by, before crashing into the apartment inhabited by the cocky, well-to-do Lucio (Riccardo Scamarcio) whose life and marriage will get torn apart when his daughter goes briefly missing in the company of their senile neighbour and later when he allows himself to get seduced by strikingly beautiful teenage girl (Denise Tantucci). The story of the intensely lonely Monica, slowly slipping to the other side, was especially haunting, while the soft-spoken Dora – who struggled between her husband and son, before tragically losing both – was quite affecting too; Rohrwacher and Buy, in turn, were the standout performers in the ensemble. The lustrous visuals, deliberate pacing, and lovely piano and accordion-based score added gentle touches while the film intercut across the stories.

 

 

 

 

 

Director: Nanni Moretti

Genre: Drama/Family Drama/Omnibus Film/Ensemble Film

Language: Italian

Country: Italy

There Is No Evil [2020]

 Dissident Iranian filmmaker Mohammad Rasoulof’s There Is No Evil – unsurprisingly banned in his country – was a magnificently crafted anthology film suffused with rousing political defiance, dramatic power and existential melancholy. However, what perhaps stood apart was its remarkable thematic clarity, viz. unequivocal opposition to capital punishments. The film comprised of four chapters – disparate in terms of premise and tonality – except that they were all exquisitely bound by their quietly resolute thematic convictions and their deliberately paced narrative buildups that always ended with startling twists. The first chapter, made in the form of a family drama, chronicled a seemingly average day in the life of middle-aged married man (Ehsan Mirhosseini) whose seemingly mundane life belies his hideous profession; the second chapter, fashioned as a thrilling prison-break film, was centered on a young soldier (Kaveh Ahangar) who must take a reckless route to avoid executing a doomed prisoner; the third chapter, presented for large parts as a blossoming romance, sees another young soldier, making an unannounced visit to his vivacious fiancée’s place, only to learn of a disquieting death; and the riveting final chapter, moodily orchestrated as a family reunion, portrayed a young woman spending few days with her mysterious uncle who lives a fiercely secluded life thanks to something he did – and didn’t do – many years back. Each episode was distinctively striking – the first for its shocking coup de théâtre and depiction of banality of evil, the second for a euphoric finale ecstatically accompanied by the antifascist resistance anthem ‘Bella Ciao’, the third by the realization of the devastating consequences of blindly following orders, and the final by its complex meditation on the oftentimes massive cost of displaying moral courage.

 

 

 

 

 

Director: Mohammad Rasoulof

Genre: Drama/Thriller/Existentialist Drama/Political Thriller/Omnibus Film

Language: Persian

Country: Iran