TheVictoriousV

Simon Stålenhag didn't create some of the most evocative sci-fi art of all time -- especially his images of an alternate-history Sweden where gargantuan machines just sort of stand around the various familiar locations like it's normal -- just to have his first big-screen film adaptation be directed by the Russos (all but synonymous with atristically void commercial slop at this point), starring Chris Pratt as Himself Again, and not actually be on the big screen but dumped onto Netflix.

If I must pick any straight-to-streaming "adaptation" of Stålenhag's images and short stories, I prefer Amazon's attempt with Tales from the Loop -- although I had problems with that one too. It's always going to feel wrong to see Stålenhag's ideas in an American setting instead of Swedish torps and meadows (The Electric State has the excuse of the source material actually being set in the States), but Tales from the Loop still achieved a more accurate vibe than this did.

I will say, however, that The Electric State, based on one of Stålenhag's later books -- originally titled Passagen, or The Passage -- sometimes has the better VFX work; at points the overgrown mechanical colossi and strange silos do feel like Stålenhag's artworks come to life.

Be that as it may, this is a pretty unsalvageable film, even if we ignore its faithfulness to the ambiance of Passagen. (David Ehrlich, who was one of the first to comment as usual, noted that the original novel "has more evocative ideas in its first paragraph than this movie does in its entire running time".) It is a hollow, unaccountably expensive slog that, as I said, only sometimes has an impressive sight to offer. The rest of the time, we're made to wonder where exactly those 300 million dollars are, cuz on the screen it ain't.

The fact of this film's ugliness vs. The quantities of money that supposedly went into making it has raised discussions on the way movies get financed in Hollywood. Instead of funding, say, David Lynch's final creations (his animated show Snootworld was infamously shut down some time before his death) or any "indie" filmmaker's dream project, Netflix would rather spend 60 times whatever they would've probably spent on those films/shows to give us something like The Electric State. (A Letterboxd review estimates the film cost about 53 Anoras and 32 The Brutalists.) And for what? The lowest-rated, seemingly least-watched, and probably worst-acted movie in the Russo brothers' entire catalog. That's what.

As all this discourse was happening, my feed kept showing me a clip from last year's Oscars ceremony, where Cord Jefferson urged, "Instead of making one $200 million movie, make 20 $10 million movies or 50 $4 million movies". Perish the thought, eh?

So yes, there's plenty to dislike about The Electric State (I haven't even mentioned Chris Pratt's wig yet), but I maintain that those who know the source material will be especially affronted by it. (If you're unaware of the source, I suspect you'll think it's just kind of bad and move on; I can't see anyone liking it.)

Forgetting the way it looks for a moment, it's worth noting that -- to paraphrase a friend and fellow Stålenhag admirer -- it seems to encapsulate precisely the sort of future the original Passagen novel warned about: here we sit, staring at our Netflix player on an expensive device of our choice (instead of sitting in a theater with people), watching a factory-made movie and occassionally smiling about some of the 1990s member berries and all such mindless comfort foods. It doesn't match the vibe of the images, the solemnness of the story (it adds generic bad guys and MCU humor), or the thoughtfulness of the themes. It's just one big dud all around.

People have pointed out that, for all its flaws, Gareth Edwards' The Creator is closer to the sort of style we ought to see from a Stålenhag-inspired work. Maybe he should take the next crack at it. Or maybe Ian Hubert could make a helluva Stålenhag film one day. Maybe it doesn't matter. Maybe the best advice I can give you is to simply check out the books. No film could ever fully match the feeling of staring into Stålenhag's illustrations until you forget where exactly you're sitting and what year it is.

No Other Land is one of the most important documentaries of this present moment -- it is a shame (but not a surprise) that it's become somewhat difficult to find/see anywhere.

Like 20 Days in Mariupol did with Russia's 2022 siege of Mariupol in Ukraine, it speaks to us bluntly right from the eye of the storm, that storm being the Israeli occupation of Palestine (chiefly the demolition of the filmmaker's home region in the West Bank, in this case). It may seem infantile to use terms like "pure evil", but there's basically no other way to describe some of what we witness in this footage.

It also involves a fascinating friendship, as Palestinian activist Basel Adra, who documents the gradual ruination of his home in Masafer Yatta on video, finds a connection with an Israeli journalist named Yuval Abraham, who wishes to help him, even as it becomes clear he can never quite understand his struggle. Nevertheless, their material became this film; both are credited as directors and writers alongside Hamdan Ballal and Rachel Szor, who is also Israeli.

Why this film would be inconvenient for Israel-sympathizers is obvious (when the film began to receive awards recognition, the IDF promptly surrounded Adra's home). But its central friendship -- and the fact that the friend in question demonstrably agreed to help get this movie made -- likely makes it inconvenient for those who use this conflict as an excuse for anti-Semitism, asserting that any Israeli person or even any Jewish person is fair game to brand a monster, if not outright kill.

Fact is, there are plenty like Abraham and Szor. For as much as Zionists like to insist that all "true" Jewish people ARE, in fact, on board with the whole Zionism thing (and in so doing they effectively agree with the aforementioned anti-Semites), there are several Jewish people and indeed Israeli citizens who are aghast at the idea that their ancestors survived The Holocaust only for the descendants to rework "Never again" into "Never again... to us".

Conclave is a well-shot thriller that gets truly interesting too late. Following the death of the pope, Thomas Lawrence (Ralph Fiennes), the dean at the College of Cardinals, oversees the election of a new one. As you may already know if you hang around Film Twitter, there are some memorably amusing sights in here. (There's just something about old men in Vatican robes sitting around using smartphones and occassioally vaping...)

Alas, as I said, it doesn't get fully interesting until its final act, involving a revelation that probably didn't please the sorts who are most likely to seek out a movie about Catholic figures -- I even heard someone whine that last year's Immaculate, the film that ends with an immaculately conceived child getting smashed with a rock, was less offensive. As with Immaculate, however, Conclave isn't as hilarious as its dissenters make it sound. It's still good, though.

Oh and of course, I'd be more than fine with Fiennes winning Best Actor for this performance. And no, Oscar voters, he has not already done that.