French widow adapts to her new life

The recently widowed Rose Goldberg (Francoise Fabian) heads to her next adventure in Rose. (Photos courtesy of Cohen Media Group)

By Richard Ades

After watching the widowed title character enjoy a surprising romantic adventure in Rose, a fellow viewer was confused. Did this really happen, she asked, or did Rose merely fantasize it?

The answer is that the adventure really happened, but it happened in a film that almost qualifies as a fantasy itself. Director/co-writer Aurelie Saada consistently sees her 78-year-old heroine’s life through what can only be called rose-colored glasses, resulting in a flick that tries a bit too hard to be upbeat and inspirational.

Originally released in 2021, the French drama previously made the rounds of American Jewish film festivals, including one in my own area. It’s now being given a wider release in U.S. theaters, perhaps as a lead-in to Valentine’s Day.

At its center is Rose Goldberg (Francoise Fabian), who’s spent the last 50 years as a devoted wife and mother. A homebody with no outside career of her own, she’s led a rather isolated existence.

As a result, she retreats into herself when her beloved husband suddenly succumbs to a medical condition that’s been hidden from her. Despite her grown children’s entreaties, she reacts to his unexpected death by refusing to leave her apartment or even bathe.

A breakthrough finally comes when daughter Sara (Aure Atika) convinces Rose to accompany her to a dinner party. Most of the guests are her daughter’s age, but the last to arrive is a lively senior named Marceline (Michele Moretti) who quickly makes herself the center of attention.

Rose (Francoise Fabian) samples a little pot while attending a dinner party with her daughter, Sara (Aure Atika, left).

Seeing this aging free spirit seems to have an immediate effect on Rose, who is inspired to cast aside her own inhibitions. Before the party is over, the former teetotaler is indulging in alcohol and even taking a few hits off a communal joint.

Still more changes follow the event, including the aforementioned romantic adventure. Rose apparently has decided to enjoy life to the fullest, even though it’s a life that previously was completely foreign to her. 

In contrast, Rose’s three children all appear to be stuck in their own lives. Sara is hung up on her long-estranged husband; married son Pierre (Gregory Montel) carries a torch for a former flame; and single son Leon (Damien Chapelle) is still living with his mother, in addition to being in trouble with the law.

The contrast between the unhappy children and their suddenly joyous mother would be touching if the former’s situations and the latter’s transformation had been fleshed out more.

Though the tale could be stronger dramatically speaking, it benefits from a fine cast and especially from Fabian’s luminous portrayal of the evolving Rose. It also benefits from Martin de Chabaneix’s warm cinematography and director Saada’s lively musical score, which reflects the title character’s Jewish heritage and Tunisian roots.

It all adds up to a film whose joy would be contagious if it were just a bit more convincing.

Rating: 3 stars (out of 5)

Rose (no MPA rating) opens Jan. 24 in New York and Los Angeles and expands to other markets in subsequent weeks, including Columbus’s Gateway Film Center on Feb. 14.

Risks, bravery pay off in trio of 2024 masterworks

A motion-captured Jonno Davies plays a simian version of British pop star Robbie Williams in Better Man. (Photo courtesy of Paramount Pictures)

By Richard Ades

This is the time of year when critics get a chance to catch up on recent flicks they might have missed, courtesy of studios in search of buzz and, hopefully, award nominations. While I don’t claim to be clairvoyant when it comes to the latter, I can confidently say this: If the Oscars and other competitions gave out prizes for bravery, these three films and their creators would win hands down.

One filmmaker displays creative courage by breaking the mold in a familiar genre, while the others put their liberty and even their lives at risk in order to bring their truths to the screen.

Let’s look at them one by one.

Biopic with a difference

By now, we all know the drill when it comes to film biopics: The would-be celeb claws his or her way to the top, but success comes at a steep cost. Friends are abandoned, spouses are cheated on, and alcohol and/or drugs are abused.

Better Man, based on the life of British pop superstar Robbie Williams, follows that general pattern, but with a difference. The entire story unfolds through the eyes (and narration) of Williams himself, who emerges as someone who desperately wants fame but is convinced he doesn’t deserve it.

And, oh yes: Williams is portrayed by a CGI-generated chimpanzee (a motion-captured Jonno Davies). It sounds weird—and, frankly, it is—but it also makes sense in a brilliant and emotionally satisfying way.

Even as a child, Williams suffers from self-doubt, self-loathing and what he later comes to identify as depression. By making him the lone ape in a world of humans, the film has found a clever way of symbolizing Williams’s fear that he’s an imposter unworthy of the success he seeks.

Directed with theatrical flair by Michael Gracey (The Greatest Showman), Better Man is marked by gee-whiz, over-the-top production numbers and surreal fantasy sequences, in addition to its simian protagonist. But what really sets it apart is its honesty and warmth.

Despite being depicted as an ape, Williams comes off as a recognizably flawed human who earns our sympathy, as well as the heart-on-its-sleeve sendoff the film gives him. Director Gracey’s gamble has paid off with a flick that’s as moving as it is massively entertaining.

Rating: 4½ stars (out of 5)

Better Man (rated R) opened Dec. 25 in select theaters and expands nationwide Jan. 10.

National unrest and a missing gun upset the lives of Iranian student Rezvan (Mahsa Rostami, center), her mother (Soheila Golestani, left) and sister (Setareh Maleki) in The Seed of the Sacred Fig.

Criticizing—and then escaping—Iran

As an attack on Iran’s government and justice system, The Seed of the Sacred Fig is the kind of film that can’t be made in that country. And yet veteran writer/director Mohammad Rasoulof succeeded in making it—in secret—before fleeing to Europe for his own safety.  

The thriller concerns Iman (Missagh Zareh), who aspires to be a judge but learns that the path to success will force him to ignore his moral compass. He lands a position that requires him to sentence people to death without being given a chance to consider the evidence.

As it turns out, the position endangers more than just his conscience. Because of the job’s controversial nature, he and his wife, Najmeh (Soheila Golestani), and their family are forced to live in secrecy. Meanwhile, daughters Rezvan and Sana (Mahsa Rostami and Setareh Maleki) become embroiled in the widespread unrest that erupts after a young woman is beaten and killed for not sufficiently covering her head.

Then the gun that Iman keeps for protection turns up missing, and the national turmoil threatens to spread to his household as he searches for the culprit. Interrogations ensue, along with a car chase and a tense finale that may remind some of a certain horror film set in a snowbound hotel. 

Considering it was made in secret and by a director who’d already gotten in trouble for earlier works, The Seed of the Sacred Fig should fill viewers with admiration for Rasoulof’s resourcefulness, as well as his courage. The film deserves an Oscar nomination, but it probably won’t get one, because who would nominate it? Certainly not Iran.

Rating: 4½ stars (out of 5)

The Seed of the Sacred Fig (PG-13) can be seen in select theaters and is scheduled to open Jan. 30 at Columbus’s Gateway Film Center.

Palestinian activist Basel Adra (left) joins forces with Israeli journalist Yuval Abraham in the documentary No Other Land.

Palestinian, Israeli expose West Bank abuses

Basel Adra has spent years documenting the Israeli army’s systematic attacks on his West Bank community, Masafer Yatta. In No Other Land, he continues that work along with Israeli journalist Yuval Abraham and fellow writer/directors Hamdan Ballal and Rachel Szor.

The result is an eye-opening expose of the abuses Adra and his Palestinian neighbors have had to endure living in the occupied territory. Houses and other buildings are destroyed on the shortest of notices and flimsiest of excuses, such as that the army needs the land for training exercises. Those who want to rebuild are told to get permits that they know are unobtainable.

Much of the film consists of footage taken with amateur video equipment or cellphones. It shows locals trying in vain to reason with soldiers, government officials and, in some cases, illegal Israeli settlers, all of whom are clearly trying to force them to abandon their rural community.

Other footage, shot by Szor, centers on the growing friendship between the Palestinian Adra and Israeli journalist Abraham, who are allied by their concern over the situation but separated by their approaches to dealing with it. Abraham is frustrated that his muckraking stories have had so little impact, but Adra counsels patience, saying a solution could take years or even decades.

The differing approaches reflect the men’s vastly different backgrounds. While Abraham is relatively new to the situation, Adra has been dealing with it for much of his life. In the face of constant, officially sanctioned abuse, he and his neighbors have no recourse but to greet it with steadfast determination and even flashes of dark humor.

Made under the most difficult of circumstances, No Other Land is a portrait of courage that is, in and of itself, an act of courage.

Rating: 5 stars (out of 5)

No Other Land is available through VOD outlets and can be seen at select theaters beginning Jan. 31.