half of alex garland civil war, A team of war reporters witnessed the horrific scene. Three of their colleagues kneel before a mass grave guarded by a group of insurgents somewhere in the American South. As reporters approach, the rebel leader (a creepy Jesse Plemons) subjects them to a hostile interrogation, demanding to know where they are from and what they want.
“I’m just saying, we’re Americans,” pleads photojournalist Joel, played by Wagner Moura. In response, Plemons’ character scratches his beard in mock confusion before asking, “What kind of American are you?”
What kind of American are you?? This question, and all the anxiety that comes with it, is the prevailing mood at the moment. Depending on your definition, “this moment” might date back decades (or even centuries), or just last week, when a majority of Americans voted to restore Donald J. Trump to the presidency.
The results shocked much of the country, which had hoped that the election of Vice President Kamala Harris would protect the United States from the fascism sweeping the world. But for some — people of color, queer and transgender people, for example — Trump’s reelection only reaffirms the country’s nightmare, with its civil rights gains compared to its oppressive history. Significant progress is still young. Days after the polls closed, results were tallied and exit surveys were compiled into neat charts, an overwhelming sense of hopelessness has gripped the atmosphere.
It’s no surprise, then, that we might turn to culture to help us understand the present. The task should have been easy, especially since so many of this year’s films seem to be vying for the title of “most political.” However, the most obvious mainstream contenders rarely resonate with me. although civil war It fails to convincingly set out how the country might reach or avoid this, given the violent consequences of extreme factionalism in the United States. apprenticeStarring Sebastian Stan as young Trump and Jeremy Strong as his mentor Roy Cohn, it’s a riveting film Research, a riveting character study of the brutal man we will once again have to call President. But while parts of Ali Abbasi’s film illustrate how the news media contributed to Trump’s early mythology — lessons that remain worth paying attention to — are inconsistent with the film’s salacious portrayal of Trump as a liar driven by daddy issues. These contents seem trivial in comparison.
secret meetingRalph Fiennes stars as a cardinal caught in a spiral of gossip, betrayal and ego that makes the papal appointment a tense election. The comparisons to Harris versus Trump are obvious—the pope must choose the lesser of two evils—but the joy of Edward Berger’s photo is also its weakness. It’s so entertaining to watch the Vatican become a cesspool of catfighting and political intrigue that it’s easy to forget that at the heart of it all is institutional malfeasance.
Ridley Scott’s Gladiator II By pointing out the corruption of the empire and the insatiable appetite of those in power, an admirable attempt is made to acknowledge corrupt systems rather than individual actors. But the lingering ambiguity in its politics leaves no one — even those with Goliath-like political clout — to see themselves as Davids. A subversion of these tropes, not just “empire is bad”, would be welcome.
So where do we turn? Movies are not a salve for electoral discontent, nor are they a substitute for political education. But they can help us see the world more clearly. The films that have stood out to me in the past few weeks have been minor critical narrative and international films, some made by directors working within politically repressive regimes or in exile. In these incidents, desperation can be acknowledged but does not become a modus operandi. How they express hope—whether by drawing on historical context or showing what is possible in a bleak reality—is worthy of our attention.
An obvious place to start is with documentaries that are both informative and illuminating about how we got here. maliciousdirected by Stephen Uraki and Christopher Jacob Jones, god and countryDirected by Dan Partland, who investigates the history of Christian nationalism and the predictability of movement leaders’ alliance with Trump, the former delves into the history of religious movements in America and the latter discusses the current performance of conservative podcasts Mesmerizing conclusions are used to stoke right-wing fear.
Both films argue that the emergence of the Christian right is not a Roe v. WadeBut they were motivated by desegregation mobilization and money, as many might believe. In 1971, a lower court ruling decided that segregated institutions would lose their tax-exempt status, angering people like televangelist and Moral Majority founder Jerry Falwell, who did not want to integrate their churches . Anti-government views took hold and conservatives worked to accumulate power. Their 1981 campaign to elect Ronald Reagan for president was the first of many incongruous alliances within the movement. contradiction.
Yet abortion is a key issue this election cycle and another area where the Christian right has strategically organized for decades. exist PreconceptionsDirectors Sabrine Keane and Kate Dumke provide some background on the anti-abortion movement since its inception Roe v. Wade. Their clarifying document involving Crisis Pregnancy Centers (CPCs) — offices across the United States that promote themselves as abortion clinics but actually try to prevent pregnant women from having abortions — exposes contradictions in conservative missions and reveals their true goals.
Zulawski v. Texas Can be read as a companion piece First impressions. Maisie Crowe and Abby Perrault’s unsettling doc investigates the brutality of the post-Roy world and observes a team trying to change it. With a candid style and clear conviction, the film follows a senior attorney at the Center for Reproductive Rights and a group of plaintiffs who litigated the Texas government’s restrictive anti-abortion laws. Zulawski Shows how ordinary people work at the local level to fight disastrous policies—no matter who is in office.
Likewise, although alliance and no other land While there may not seem to be much in common at first glance, both offer models of organization and resistance. They also tell the story of how power shapes our lives. (Despite strong festival response, both documentaries struggled to gain distribution this fall and have since had limited releases.)
Stephen Maine and Brett Story alliance Chris Smalls and Amazon union organize workers at Staten Island warehouse. The directors’ ad hoc approach resulted in a dynamic process document that detailed the degree of collaboration required to organize any team. Smalls and his comrades engaged in challenging conversations about their differences and worked to resolve them to create a union that worked for all members. The process was chaotic but urgent. It also confirms that a true democratic process cannot easily dismiss the concerns of the people—whether new Trump voters dissatisfied with the economy or progressives rightfully unhappy with the Harris campaign.
Organizations take different forms no other landA harrowing documentary about the Israeli occupation of the West Bank, directed by a collective of Palestinian and Israeli filmmakers. The film is a testament to the resilience of the residents of Massafel Yata as they tried to save their homes from Israeli military encroachment under apartheid. Scenes of Palestinians marching to protest and document abuse by Israeli soldiers recalled images from 2020, when Americans demonstrated against police brutality following the killing of George Floyd. It serves as a reminder that disenfranchised struggles, large and small, exist around the world.
Some of this year’s international narrative topics show us how to do it, from Sacred Fig Seeds Author: Muhammad Rasoulof. The director has been targeted for years by the Iranian government, which considers his films “propaganda against the system,” and he recently fled the country after being sentenced to eight years in prison. His latest film, which was shot in secret and will be released by Neon on November 27, is a fiercely anti-patriarchal look at Imam (Misha Zal), an ambitious ’s investigator, his wife Nadjame (Sohela Golestani) and two teenagers are under investigation. Setare Maleki’s daughter Rezwan faces a harrowing investigation after her police-issued gun goes missing.
As the imam searched the apartment for guns, his daughters observed dissent on their cellphones. Witnessing students protesting the real-life arrest of 22-year-old Iranian Mahsa Amini for refusing to wear a headscarf inspired them to stand up against their father’s misogynistic behavior. Rasulov’s tense thriller is interspersed with documentary footage of these courageous demonstrations in Tehran.
Tim Mirant little things like this operates in a quieter sonic register but also offers an affecting example of personal resistance. Cillian Murphy stars as Bill Furlong, a gentle and hard-working man who becomes obsessed with the discovery of one of Ireland’s notorious Magdalene laundries in his town. Troubled by memories of his own difficult childhood. Despite the protests of everyone around him – including his wife Eileen (Eileen Walsh), who reminds him that he has a daughter of his own to care for – he refuses to participate in the abusive practices of the neglectful church. Bill chose to intervene, a move that should inspire us all to take action where and when we can.
Beyond the typical blockbusters, the list of movies that fit this moment is seemingly endless. I found solace in Payal Kapadia Everything we imagine is light (now in select theaters), is a poignant drama about three women who form a bond despite living in isolation in Mumbai. The show’s political overtones are light, but its intentions are admirable: The thread about the relationship between the Hindu and Muslim characters is particularly radical since India’s current government, led by Modi, made headlines for its anti-Muslim discrimination. through everything we imagine, Kapadia reminds us that seeking community is the only antidote to rising individualism in uncertain times.
Wang Nanfu’s The night is not eternalPremiering on HBO on November 19, it provides the community with another case in point, albeit one that is broader in scope. The documentary chronicles the complicated friendship between Wang and Cuban democracy activist Rosa María Paya and situates it within a broader consideration of China and Cuba’s fight against authoritarianism. It also considers why people fleeing America’s punitive regime might vote for someone like Trump. This thread resonates as we try to make sense of exit polls, which show an increase in support for the incoming president.
When in doubt, the past remains the most revealing tool. History doesn’t necessarily repeat itself, but it does echo. months ago, THRChief film critic David Rooney compiles a list of Hollywood’s best political films. What about me? I recently found myself watching Agnes Varda’s panthers (1968), a short film about the political organization’s protests over the arrest of its co-founder Huey P. Newton. Sadly, its themes, especially those surrounding police violence, remain relevant.
But the film is ultimately a hopeful one. Hear how party members create social programs for their communities, provide accessible political education—easy-to-read pamphlets with pictures; focus on conversation—and work to help people deflect anger toward institutions rather than individual citizens.
Through interviews with Black Panther Party members, demonstrators, and the occasional curious passerby, the doctor demonstrates the power of people united to drive real change. In the words of one party member: Only when people understand how the system suppresses them can they try to change it themselves.
