Coverage of the Seattle International Film Festival and year-round art house programming in the Pacific Northwest.
Kathy Fennessy is former president of Seattle Film Critics Society, a Northwest Film Forum board member, and a Tomatometer-approved critic. She writes or has written for Amazon, Minneapolis's City Pages, Resonance, Rock and Roll Globe, Seattle Sound, and The Stranger.
This is the latest in a continuing series of film reviews that have disappeared from the internet.
I reviewed Love Crime for SIFF and Mary Hartman, Mary Hartman (R.I.P., Louise Lasser) and Weekend for Amazon. All three are slightly revised from the original text.
LOVE CRIME / Crime d'Amour
(Alain Corneau, France, 2010, 106 minutes)
Two formidable actresses square off against each other in the late filmmaker Alain Corneau's clever corporate twist on Joseph L. Mankiewicz's All About Eve. In this case, instead of actresses, a mousy executive becomes her manipulative mentor's biggest foe both at the office and in the bedroom.
Drawing on her work with Claude Chabrol and François Ozon, Ludivine Sagnier plays dedicated executive Isabelle, who reports to powerful president Christine (Kristin Scott Thomas). Together, their chemistry teeters between the sexual and the convivial. Sometimes, as when Christine offers the younger woman fashion tips, they even seem like mother and daughter
At the office, the mousy Isa comes up with ideas for which her superior takes credit, saying to her in private, "You have real talent," but Isa tells her assistant, Daniel (Guillaume Marquet), that she doesn't mind. Then, on a trip to Cairo, she has a fling with Christine's lover, Philippe (Patrick Mille).
When they return to Paris, Christine threatens to go public with his firm's creative bookkeeping, while Daniel encourages her to collaborate with him on a secret project. When Isa finally garners the recognition she deserves, Christine turns to humiliation, so Isa finds a devious way to get even.
If anything, she seems to be setting herself up for a fall, but things are not quite what they seem, and the mouse will transform herself into a lion.
MARY HARTMAN, MARY HARTMAN (Joan Darling, Jim Drake, USA, 1976, 564 minutes)
Long before David Lynch introduced the world to Twin Peaks, Mary Hartman, Mary Hartman turned the soap opera inside out. Produced by All in the Family's Norman Lear, the syndicated serial centers around gingham-clad housewife Mary Hartman (Louise Lasser, a one-time Woody Allen mainstay).
The saga begins with Mary agonizing over her floor's waxy yellow buildup when her neighbor, Loretta Haggers (Emmy Award winner Mary Kay Place), bursts in to announce that a mass murderer is on the loose in Fernwood.
That might be enough to fuel any drama, except it isn't Mary's only problem. The magic has gone out of her marriage to Tom (Greg Mullavey) and her grandfather is revealed as the Fernwood Flasher. And that's just the pilot.
At first glance, Mary Hartman Mary Hartman resembles a daytime soap with five-night-a-week airings, frame-filling close-ups, and syrupy score, but everything is off-kilter. When Mary isn't looking at other characters as if they're speaking in tongues, she appears to be on the verge of laughter or tears--maybe both at once. She's the ultimate desperate housewife.
Aside from Grandpa Larkin (Victor Kilian), regulars include Mary's preteen daughter Heather (Claudia Lamb), younger sister Cathy (Debralee Scott), and parents, Martha (Dody Goodman) and George Shumway (Philip Bruns).
In addition, there's Sgt. Foley (Bruce Solomon), who has the hots for our sexually unsatisfied heroine, and Loretta's hapless husband, Charlie (Graham Jarvis), who works with Tom and George at the plant. Mrs. Haggers, an aspiring country singer with voluminous hair, loves her Baby Boy "more than a hundred billion frozen Milky Ways."
The first set of this groundbreaking series features 25 episodes. Between 1976-1978, a whopping 325 were produced, some as Forever Fernwood when Lasser left in 1977, reportedly due to exhaustion. That year, the series spun off the Alan Thicke-produced talk show satire Fernwood 2Nite with Martin Mull and Fred Willard, which would develop a cult following of its own.
WEEKEND
(Andrew Haigh, 2011, UK, 97 minutes)
Most everyone has had the experience of meeting someone new and feeling an instant connection. Transferring that phenomenon to the screen, however, tends to fall flat when the cast or screenplay aren't up to task. Much as in Richard Linklater's thematically similar Before Sunrise, however, filmmaker Andrew Haigh, in his sophomore feature, has no such problem.
Russell (Tom Cullen), a Nottingham lifeguard, spots Glen (Chris New) at a bar, and the attraction is immediate, but what might have been a one-night stand soon turns serious. Though Russell is out to his straight friends, he prefers not to draw attention to his sexual orientation in public, while Glen, an art gallery worker, has no such qualms, but while one believes in gay marriage, the other views it as a heterosexual construct. Philosophical differences aside, they enjoy each other's company and share a similar sense of humor--Russell thanks Glen for rescuing him from the "hobbit" at the bar.
As they spend the next day talking, texting, smoking, and drinking, Russell confides that he thought he was "out of his league," but Glen assures him that was hardly the case. As Saturday becomes Sunday, they get to know each other on a more intimate level (there's nudity, but nothing explicit).
Then, Glen announces that he's leaving on Monday to study abroad. It would be easy for Haigh to amp things up at this point, but the dilemma plays out in a believable manner, which is all the more touching for feeling so true.
A decade ago, Gianfranco Rosi made Fire at Sea about the migrant crisis in Lampedusa. I wrote about it for The Stranger, but my review has gotten truncated.
I was reminded of the film when I saw that Pope Leo XIV opted to pray for lost migrant lives in Lampedusa instead of traveling to his native United States during our 250th anniversary celebrations. Highly recommended--the film and the recognition of migrants' sacrifice in search of a better life.
FIRE AT SEA / Fuocoammare
(Gianfranco Rosi, 2016, Italy, 114 minutes)
Eritrean-Italian filmmaker Gianfranco Rosi shot his fifth documentary, Fire at Sea, with such care that it often feels more like a narrative feature than a non-fiction film (Rosi also served as cinematographer and sound man).
Then again, there's something alien and strange about the rocky terrain of Lampedusa, an island 70 kilometers from the African coast that has admitted over 400,000 refugees. Like the Cuban exiles who have sunk beneath the waves while rafting towards the America Dream, 15,000 refugees have perished over 20 years while attempting to cross the Strait of Sicily.
Right: The Pope at Lampedusa
Other than a few opening inter-titles, Rosi eschews narration, focusing instead on ordinary Lampedusans engaging in their daily activities: an elderly woman doing chores around her idol-filled home, a DJ playing soothing songs for his hard-working audience, a doctor running a scan on a pregnant woman, and a little boy whittling a stick. While they go about their business, the soundtrack gives way to distress calls from refugees fleeing Nigeria, the Ivory Coast, and Syria.
Rosi gradually narrows his gaze to 12-year-old Samuele, the whittling boy. He's a bright, energetic child with a lazy eye who slurps spaghetti, imitates bird calls, and constructs slingshots to torture innocent cacti.
Rosi juxtaposes his mostly-daytime perambulations with the mostly-nighttime rigors of refugees entering the continent by boat. In one sequence, rescue workers give the shivering arrivals gold Mylar blankets. As they wait for processing, they glimmer and sparkle in the evening light. It's a lovely image followed in a later sequence by limp, dazed refugees suffering from severe dehydration. Worse yet: body bags wrapped in twine.
The message is clear: water gives life and it takes it away. It helps a 6,000-person fishing community to put food on their tables, it provides the possibility of a better future for migrants fleeing dictatorial rule, and it kills thousands of others who will never know the freedoms Samuele enjoys.
As one Nigerian refugee who survived the journey puts it, "It is risky in life not to take a risk, because life is a risk." Rosi's remarkable film won the Golden Bear, the top prize, at the 2016 Berlin International Film Festival.
Rosi's new film, Pompei: Below the Clouds, is now streaming on Mubi.
Fire at Sea is available for free on Kanopy and for a nominal cost on Apple TV+ and Prime. Images from The Playlist (the top image), Film Inquiry (migrants arriving by overcrowded boat), and The Vatican (the Pope).
(Lilian T. Mehrel, 2025, USA/Portugal, 75 minutes)
From the self-provided description of Lilian T. Mehrel's directorial debut, which involves a middle-aged mother, a thirtysomething daughter, and a handsome twentysomething man, I feared I wouldn't like it. The film could have easily been too cutesy or too sentimental, but it isn't either.
Logline at the IMDb:
June and her Persian-British mom Lela travel to the romantic Azores for a grief anniversary, with contrasting ways of coping. A hot-and-deep surfer takes them on a tour as we surf the waves of life, loss, flirting - an unforgettable ride.
The gimmicky title wasn't a big selling point either, though it makes sense. In order to save money, June (Ayden Mayeri) books a honeymoon package for her and her mother--who was widowed a year ago--since there are no rules about the relationship status of paying couples. Granted, this leads to some gently humorous moments as the two single women find themselves surrounded by happy loving couples enjoying a romantic getaway.
The narcissistic, American-born June, who I found off-putting at first, seems well aware of her attractiveness, but some of that self-centeredness melts away during a trip to Portugal's Azores Islands with her Iranian-British therapist mother, Lela (Amira Casar, a one-time Catherine Breillat mainstay).
Azores was meaningful to June's father, and it looks like a lovely place, not least because it hasn't yet been overtaken by tourists. The film itself could have come across as a tourist board commercial thanks to Inés Gowland's evocative cinematography, except Mehrel pays special attention to the island's cultural traditions and morés and not just the pretty scenery.
During the trip, June gains new insights into her late father's life and into her mother's Persian-Kurdish heritage. Lela, for instance, is particularly inspired by Iran's "Woman, Life, Freedom" (Jin, Jiyan, Azadî) movement, because she grew up under a much more repressive regime.
June has grown up at a different time and place, and hasn't always appreciated how far her mother has come to live as a sensual, self-possessed woman in the 21st-century. I would imagine that Mehrel is familiar with Casar's sexually explicit work for Breillat--Romance, Anatomy of Hell, and The Last Mistress--since she brings echoes of that background here, including a brief nude scene (in this case, it's the younger woman who remains mostly clothed).
The two become three with the addition of João (José Condessa, from Pedro Almodóvar's Strange Way of Life, who brings a certain soulful quality to a comparatively small role), a tour guide, who isn't just part of the scenery.
At its worst, his dialogue can be hackneyed, but he brings the requisite sincerity to his delivery. The women visit João's invitingly humble home and meet his gracious grandmother, and there's an unforced chemistry between the characters, whether they speak each other's language or not.
As an only child who has traveled abroad with a single mother, I found Honeyjoon relatable, regardless that I have no connection to Iran and have never, alas, been to Portugal.
You can love someone, and still find them unbearable, and there's believable bickering between the women. One even goes missing at a certain point, which happened when I visited Tallin with my mom. She was there one minute, and then she wasn't. It's a long story, but we eventually reconnected. It's really scary to be in that situation.
Mehrel's debut is a sweet and funny film that viewers of any gender could enjoy, not least since she doesn't demonize men--though patriarchy lurks around the fringes--but women are likely to get more out of it. In that sense, it recalls Payal Kapadia's All We Imagine as Light(which, admittedly, cuts deeper).
In this case, the sisterhood isn't between three unrelated women, but between a mother and daughter learning to see each other clearly once it's just the two of them, free from the distractions of their day-to-day lives.
I suspect there's a fair amount of Lilian T. Mehrel in June, since she took inspiration from the loss of her own beloved father, and you can feel her working through some of that grief. As she explains in the production notes, "When my beautiful, life-loving dad died, I wondered--could I ever really enjoy life again?" Her film handily answers that question in the affirmative.
Honeyjoon opens at SIFF Film Center on July 17. Writer, director, and coproducer Lilian T. Mehrel is scheduled to attend the opening night screening for a Q&A. Notably, Mehrel funded her $1 million film the same way David Fortune funded 2024's Color Book: by winning AT&T's Untold Stories, a collaboration between the company and Tribeca Festival. For my money, that's two terrific selections in a row. Images: Alliance of Women Film Journalists (Amira Casar and Ayden Mayeri), Pop Culture Press (Casar and Mayeri), and Tribeca Festival (Casar, Mayeri, and José Condessa).
