Our short is The Chicken by Neo Sora.

Through a satirical lens, this compelling short narrative explores the core contradictions of urban life, proposing that society might lean toward vegetarianism if individuals were required to handle slaughter themselves. Imagery of liquids washing over man-made surfaces forms a central visual motif—water spills across a paved walkway in precise, even patterns, searching in vain for a natural outlet that the unforgiving concrete refuses to offer.

Entirely devoid of spoken dialogue, the work establishes a quiet, introspective atmosphere, relying on subtle facial performances and a resonant score to convey deep silence. As events unfold, figures existing on the margins of life are suddenly blindsided by reality, forced to confront the full gravity of their choices.

Watch here.

Our feature is The Gold Bug by Fia-Stina Sandlund and Alejo Moguillansky.

What starts as a comedic look at the hazards of multinational filmmaking quickly broadens into a rich blend of farce, treasure hunting, road trip narrative, feminism, machismo, Edgar Allan Poe references, disputed histories, and multifaceted colonial critique. A filmmaking team comes together to work on an assigned project with a Swedish co-production, though they also discover that there is buried treasure in a far away spot behind a waterfall. Under the cover of shooting a film, they secretly plan their recovery of the treasure.

Throughout the film, cynical commentary is provided via voiceovers and phone calls featuring 19th-century historical figures alongside off-screen modern characters. These additions satirize historical distortion, cinematic commercialization, and the ongoing struggle between artistic purity and commercial demand. Ultimately, the story masterfully navigates a complex interplay of themes all while maintaining a playful, energetic, and captivating tone.

Watch here.

Our short is “The Shape of The Girl to Come” by Charli Christine Marker.

An intimate and interior look at the filmmaker, what goes on in their mind as they process the every day, but also how they process the future. If John Wilson was a trans filmmaker in Chicago, this would be close to what their film would be.

Watch here.

Our feature is “Never Been Thawed” by Sean Anders.

Funny feature debut from a director that would go on to work with Adam Sandler, Mark Wahlberg, and Will Ferrell in various comedic vehicles. This is a mockumentary about a Christian rock band and also about frozen food collections. What could go wrong?

Watch here.

Atomic Filmmakers - Hollywood’s Secret Film Studio by Peter Kuran

Both remarkable and profound. For individuals with recollections of the systemic apprehension and frequent testing conducted in the Pacific islands during the 1950s, this documentary provides recently declassified information. A significant feature of the film is the inclusion of detonations recorded by Rapatronic cameras. It serves as an exceptional resource for the general public and researchers of nuclear testing alike, presenting authentic data devoid of sensationalized narratives or fabricated special effects. Furthermore, it is noteworthy that the former Lookout Mountain AFS facility is reportedly currently under the ownership of Jared Leto.

Watch here.

Mission to Moscow by Michael Curtiz

Directed by Michael Curtiz as an immediate follow-up to “Casablanca,” this stands as a singular Hollywood production from Warner Bros. that offers an intensely pro-Soviet. It’s a faithful adaptation of the memoir by Joseph E. Davies, the former U.S. Ambassador to the Soviet Union, who personally approved the screenplay and appears at the film’s opening.

The film provides a detailed look at political maneuvering in Moscow leading up to World War II, including agricultural collectivization, industrial expansion, and the Moscow Trials. While it presents Stalin in a remarkably favorable and peaceful light, it also features authentic footage of Nazi Germany. Despite being crafted as a propaganda piece at the request of F.D.R. to build support for the Soviet Union, the movie is well-paced and competently acted, Walter Huston giving a particularly memorable performance.

Because of its portrayal of events that have since been subject to different historical interpretations, the movie has been largely suppressed. For anyone interested in the complex political landscape prior to the U.S. entry into WWII, this film remains an essential, maybe hysterical, cinematic artifact.

Watch here.

Down Clark Street

Filmmaker Tom Palazzolo serves as our guide through the Chicago neighborhood he called home during the 1960s, a stretch of Clark Street running from Chicago Avenue to the Chicago River. Blended with his own vintage film footage and photographs from the ’60s and ’70s and Palazzolo shares stories of the local residents he knew and documented, reflecting on the significant transformations the neighborhood has undergone over the decades. A very personal work and a time capsule of sorts, one can feel the ache of memories through every second.

Watch here.

Motel

This surreal, hauntingly beautiful documentary remains tragically obscure. Its desert tracking shots and hypnotic score mirror Wim Wenders’ road movies, but the subjects—obsessive dreamers living on the American periphery—resemble Werner Herzog characters. The film features a New Mexico trio of motel-owning divorces, women near an Arizona prison, and a Death Valley ballet dancer.

Christian Blackwood utilizes a participatory approach, making his presence known to create a vulnerable, collaborative space where subjects even reenact past traumas for emotional release. Ultimately, the documentary captures how these women defiantly reclaim their lives and dreams through sacrifice and labor, refusing to be defined by history or societal expectations.

Watch here.

Our film is “Before You Fade Away Into Nothing” by Skinner Myers.

This slow-burn black-and-white film follows estranged brothers Tristan (Skinner Myers) and Malik (Nican Robinson) as they “reconnect” after their father’s death. Drawing inspiration from Jim Jarmusch and Tsai Ming-Liang, Myers’ distinct aesthetic employs morbid humor, literary allusions (C.S. Lewis, Dylan Thomas), and stylistic flourishes like split screens and ghostly apparitions. The brothers, a chaotic individual and a straight-laced yuppie, respectively, have vastly different reactions to loss and ultimately fail to connect. The film avoids typical reconciliation clichés, offering a bleak tragicomedy about an unhappy Black American family, reminding us of the suffering inherent in grief. Its best moments are the humorous interactions with the outside world… when family can’t connect, who finds the fallen patriarch but a low wage delivery driver.

Watch here.

King Vidor’s essay film Truth and Illusion surprisingly explores consciousness, serving as a key to his work. It reinforces his recurring theme that reality is a mental construct formed by sheer will, a concept seen in films like The Fountainhead and An American Romance. This radical individualism is consistently balanced by the importance of the social contract, a contrast that is compelling, even if occasionally incoherent. The film blends Neoplatonism with Vidor’s unique Christian Science-infused voluntarism and American individualism, functioning as a primer for his filmography. Its rich visuals even recall 80s/90s Godard essays. It’s an absolutely genius demonstration of metaphysical ideas and their link to the filmic medium. While mind dictates experience, it doesn’t negate the significance of what we observe.

Watch here.

Our feature is Born of Fire by Jamil Dehlavi. This distinct and perplexing cinematic work presents an unusual synthesis of avant-garde filmmaking (evoking Garrel and Ruiz) and the aesthetic sensibilities of 1990s PC adventure games, interspersed with elements of 1980s and 1990s genre television. While the Muslim religious mysticism (involving Djinn, "The Master" in a Turkish cave, and the planet's eventual destruction by the sun) proves challenging to fully comprehend, the film remains a visually spectacular and singular experience. The narrative follows a flautist who, motivated by his dying mother and an enigmatic woman, embarks on a quest for the Master. This journey involves encounters with a strange cleric, his own half-brother, and a fiery-eyed, flute-playing demigod in the Turkish mountains, all while he simultaneously grapples with the traumatic memory of his father's death by fire. The structure is inherently fragmented, frequently shifting locations and incorporating brief insect interludes. Despite its resistance to facile interpretation, director Jamil Dehlavi has produced a stunning, unique piece of art-house horror, culminating in an apocalyptic flute confrontation, distinguished by gorgeous cinematography and masterful performances.

Watch here.

From an earlier newsletter years ago we shared the following short film “Boundaries” about two men designing a detention center in what seems to be a former department store. Since these ideas and actions are ever more prevalent, we’re resharing the film….

TETOC CLASSICS:

Our short here is Boundaries by Christopher Jason Bell. This follows managers of some sort... creative team... putting their heads together and coming up with the cheapest, best possible way to build a detention center. We do not know who this detention center is for, but we are lead to wonder if that even matters. Through its stripped presentation we are given a large, very large empty space which is soon filled by a smaller square, which we know will then soon be filled with people. Glimpses outside of the only window show snow, a parking lot, with people in cars casually pass by. The parking lot hints what this place used to be, as well as the signs still up, some sort of former place of commerce. Sometimes the film evokes Roy Andersson, sometimes it is more genre influenced in a way... the beginning calls to mind something more scary, as does the abrupt cutting in the building montage. There is sentimental heart in its last outing, as actor (and director -- we have covered) Frank Mosley speaking to his children. The disconnect, the contradictions, are wholly palpable.

Watch here.

Our feature is “A Moment of Romance” by Benny Chan Muk-Sing.

Benny Chan's debut film, A Moment of Romance, produced by Johnnie To, is a pivotal work for understanding the appeal of Hong Kong Cinema among Western cinephiles in the 1990s. The film expertly synthesizes a conventional "rich girl, poor boy" romance with intense, unvarnished violence. The narrative focuses on triad member Andy Lau, who utilizes the affluent Wu Chien Lien as a human shield during an escape; this encounter instantly ignites a deeply romanticized love. The film incorporates triad conflicts, emotionally resonant slow-motion montages, male camaraderie (exemplified by Lau and Ng Man Tat), and indelible motorcycle imagery. Its manipulative yet effective storytelling is firmly rooted in the realism of the Hong Kong streetscape. At less than ninety minutes, the film possesses the impact of a superior pop song—immediate, vibrant, and rapidly consumed, culminating in a devastating final image of the young woman. The movie's overtly stylized deployment of neon, dramatic musical scoring, poignant gestures, explosive violence, and youthful emotional excess successfully captures the fervor of young love and conflict. It immediately established itself as a classic due to its striking visuals, strong performances (particularly Lau's), and pervasive style. While featuring elements of lighthearted romance, it maintains its status as a robust crime action film.

Watch here.

Our short film is “Another Sinking Sun” by Tyler Rubenfeld.

This movie masterfully plunges both its characters and its audience into a profound state of hypnagogia. This liminal space exists precariously between the sharp, undeniable clarity of the waking world and the hazier, often more elusive territory of dreams and deeply buried memories. The piece’s core unfolds through a strikingly intimate, yet entirely one-sided, phone conversation. In this exchange, a figure identified only as the Narrator offers a mesmerizing stream of recollection, focusing on a presence from their past—a presence that, despite the passage of time and the strangeness of memory, remains curiously comforting.

Rubenfeld’s lens for this past is anything but simple sentimentality. It is, instead, marked by a jaundiced sense of nostalgia... The piece serves as a concise, yet profound, meditation on memory’s unreliability, the haunting nature of comfort, and the peculiar ways technology shapes our retrospective view of self.

Watch here.

Our feature is “In The Dark” by Clifton Holmes.

A fantastically edited, lo-fi exercise in craftsmanship and a spacious container for dark ideas. Its “rough” form follows function, with the images’ ugliness never yielding to beauty. While not as scary as advertised, In the Dark‘s themes and methods are genuinely unsettling, as is Kim Garrett’s unstudied, extraordinary lead performance. Her character, Jane, is defined by an equal sense of agency and bottomless lack thereof, culminating in a final close-up suggesting complicity and complacency are one and the same.

This unreleased, almost forgotten SOV horror-thriller starts deceptively innocuously before slowly accelerating into absolute lunacy. It is engrossing and seriously sinister.

Watch here.

Julian Castronovo’s compelling short film, Noise, is a nuanced and insightful critique of the pervasive, bigoted, and white-centric typecasting that has long plagued science fiction narratives. Far from being a simple denouncement, the film also delivers a fascinatingly absurd and deeply human perspective on the myriad communication breakdowns that occur both within a fictional universe and on a working set. Most notably, Noise shines a spotlight on the often-ignored, practical concerns and career anxieties of the everyday bit-part player and background actor in the massive, impersonal machinery of the movie industry.

A particular highlight—and the emotional core of the film—is a candid moment of concern voiced by one of the aspiring, racially diverse actors. Amidst discussions of intergalactic politics or fantastical plot points, this actor’s chief worry is entirely practical and immediate: Will this specific, brief role be counted in the manner required to secure them essential union benefits? This pragmatic need—the actual struggle for a living wage, healthcare, and job security—underscores the film’s broader message. The true “noise” isn’t the static of a dystopian future, but the ignored, essential financial and career needs of the workers whose labor creates that future.

Watch here.

Life and Debt is a powerfully constructed documentary that successfully marries a crucial political message with genuinely high-quality filmmaking. Its core strength lies in its intelligent and unflinching critique of neocolonialism. It meticulously unpacks the devastating economic and social effects of global financial policies, using Jamaica as a vivid case study. A particularly effective thematic device is the powerful comparison drawn between the two visible cycles of exploitation: the perpetual cycle of luxury tourism that benefits foreign entities, and the swift, exploitative establishment and equally swift relocation of international factories—both of which leave the local economy and population in a worse state.

Crucially, the film employs an effective framing device that directly challenges and contrasts the harsh economic reality with the prevailing, idealized, and deeply entrenched colonial-stereotype image of Jamaica. This image, aggressively promoted to the Global North, portrays the island as a perpetually relaxed, idyllic tropical vacation spot, completely masking the systemic debt, poverty, and infrastructural decay imposed by international institutions. The documentary uses this contrast to highlight the profound hypocrisy and willful ignorance required to maintain the tourism industry. The quoted line within the film powerfully summarizes this disillusionment: “When we asked for independence from Great Britain, we had something else in mind. We can no longer remember what that was...”

Watch here.

The Inextinguishable Fire

Harun Farocki’s cinematic essay, created during the 1960s surge of condemnation against U.S. imperialism and the Vietnam War, is a self-aware, ironic challenge to the scientific basis of warfare, particularly napalm development. It introduces a profound observation: the psychological effect of desensitization and graphic sensationalism can lead to denying historical truth, raising the specter of Holocaust denial. This concise, methodical essay is unparalleled. It sharply focuses on the scientific method… It is mandatory viewing, not only for its originality and lack of aesthetic precursors, but for its astonishingly relevant core message: war’s true cost must be measured in human pain, not just statistics.

Watch here.

The Freethinker

Watkins’ film on Strindberg, like his earlier Edvard Munch, uses radical biographical experimentation, focusing on Strindberg’s inner turmoil for “simple human truth, unadorned,” rather than factual details. The film is highly “dialogic,” with actors breaking character to challenge Strindberg, blurring the lines between rehearsal, history, creator, and audience in a “collaborative, open-ended dialogue.” Watkins sees this “thrillingly alive,” “populist cinema” as “a weapon against the suffocating, fascistic aesthetics of a corporatized media,” linking Strindberg’s “search for freedom of thought and expression” to his own and his collaborators’. Despite digressions, the film centers on Strindberg’s “fiery, tortured heart,” an enigma Watkins wants the audience to “feel.” This complex, lucid film employs old tactics (metadocumentary interviews) and new ones (video footage, out-of-character performer debates) to disrupt the “Monoform”—the political and aesthetic homogenization of visual media—even while Watkins feels his work is deliberately marginalized. Though polemical, “ugly, occasionally even artless,” the film advocates for active political and media engagement. Strikingly ambivalent, the film never fully endorses its subject, suggesting his alleged misogyny and anti-semitism could be viewed as a morally imperative, philosophical provocation. This ambivalence, combined with scenes staged in an empty warehouse where actors read from scripts, gives the work a proto-DOGVILLE feel.

Watch here.

First is “Willie” by Danny Lyon.

This documentary succeeds in its exploration of a unique and often overlooked facet of America, focusing intently on Willie, a recurring figure in Lyon’s photographic and cinematic oeuvre, and the distinctive cultural landscape of New Mexico.

While the interview segments were often straightforward and perhaps even a bit rudimentary in their execution, their admissions of wrongdoing, coupled with expressions of remorse (at least those captured on camera), suggested a complex understanding of their circumstances, implying that many are, to a significant extent, products of challenging environments and systemic issues—a somber reflection that extends far beyond the scope of this specific documentary.

Its authentic portrayal of its subjects and its ability to evoke genuine emotion is not to be taken for granted.

Watch here.

Our second film is A Dream Come True by Otar Koberidze & Mikhail Karyukov.

This classic Soviet science fiction film is a remarkable example of the genre’s long tradition in the former Soviet Union. Its visuals are truly sensational, surpassing many Western sci-fi films of its time in ambition and quality, a feat made possible by the full backing of the state.

The film boasts impressive space effects for 1963 and surprisingly good set designs, reminiscent of an extended Star Trek: The Original Series episode, except with… musical sections.

The plot sees Russian cosmonauts rushing to Mars after an alien spaceship crashes on its way to Earth, only to find it devoid of life. Despite the lack of fleshed-out writing or particularly strong acting, the film maintains a charming and optimistic tone. Its cozy Soviet sci-fi atmosphere is enhanced by ethereal aesthetics, heartfelt emotional moments, and a wonderful sense of optimism.

Watch here.

Our short is Rose Tinted by Jay Villalobos. A trans woman starts to turn into a rose and is harassed by a bee in her colorful room. The sound is sparse, with many things punctuated by a studio audience — applause, laugh track, and so on. Other times, we are at a remove with the sound dropping out entirely — Lily, the character, screams but we cannot hear her. The entire room is full of color and is very vibrant, the makeup effects are very physical and present — the change and danger is fully felt and, it may be overdone, but it truly does feel Lynchian.

Watch here.

Our feature is Memories of Matsuko by Tetsuya Nakashima.

A series of wrongdoers and unfortunate choices consistently dragged lead character Matsuko into an abyss of despair. Any moments of hope she experienced were fleeting, disintegrating quickly and giving way to another quicksand of sadness. She lived for others, while everyone else lived only for themselves. She was a giver; others were takers. Her dreams of a happy life would occasionally appear within reach before slipping further into impossibility. The film’s vibrant colors and catchy music create a fantastical, almost dreamlike atmosphere, transporting viewers to a fairy tale – albeit a tragic one. These elements attempt to shield us from the almost phantasmagorical torment and misery that define Matsuko’s life.

Before his aunt Matsuko’s death, her nephew, Sho, was adrift and aimless. Stagnant, passive, and simply existing, he was spurred to piece together the significant events of her life. Matsuko, an angelic figure, helped him find his way even beyond her mortal existence by inspiring compassion. She sought only compassion, consideration, sympathy, and empathy from others. Her tragedy became his wake-up call.

The pivotal moments of Matsuko’s life are presented with crystal clarity, rather than as fragments, cementing the profound impression she made on everyone she met.

Watch here.

Our short is “Extremely Short” by Koji Yamamura.

Beautiful punkish, frenetic short. The animation is fantastic, it gives the sense of a very rustic technique, while being polished and rhythmic.

Full review by smallafol here.

Watch here.

Our feature is “Jiseul” by O Muel.

Jiseul is a movie of opposition; it is at once elusive in its story and clear in its message, consisting of imagery which is often dark and beautiful and ideas which are terrifying. It depicts the experience of a small group of villagers during the Jeju massacre of 1948, but assessing the film’s historical accuracy is difficult. Like the documentary The Murmuring, Jiseul deals with a history of Korea that has been both willingly and forcefully forgotten. Yet, where The Murmuring shares explicitly the context of its violence, Jiseul does just the opposite. The viewer is given a brief context with title cards at the beginning and end, but is otherwise thrown into the story with little knowledge of the situation and characters. By the end, the viewer has witnessed suffering, violence, and cruelty, but has not gained a deeper understanding of why. Through the film’s soldiers, we see the depravity and brutality which men are capable of committing when simply given the power, as well as the moral struggle of compliance, but we never discover from where this conflict stems.

Full review by harlanthater here.

Watch here.

Far From Poland

The director attempted to make a movie about labor issues in Poland but was denied a working visa. She instead creates the movie at home, using reenactments, actors, and so on, going off of interviews and thoughts of Polish workers experiencing what she is trying to do a piece on. The result creates a remove, something similar to the work of Peter Watkins. Godmilow is also a film theorist and rails against the typical political documentary, and here we can see her attempts to change things up -- creating a distance from the subject, you instead have to constantly recalibrate your assessment of the work and what it means, as opposed to falling in and following in line with the typical documentary story structure. The result is less digestible, but these things maybe should be so easy to swallow. Surface level comment is that Godmilow's direction is superb -- many single takes, interesting shot dynamics... filming footage on a tv, starting on the top of the television where dirty plates and food and documents are piled, slowly panning down to the matter at hand... she has a keen eye and we are left with much to digest.

Watch here.

Roy Cohn / Jack Smith

“This was an odd watch, since my partner worked with various companies that Ron Vawter worked with, and had seen the theatre show on which this film is based numerous times, so he came in with a lot of expectations while I had very few. And while this film is doing quite a lot of work to not come across like a piece of filmed theatre, a lot of the decisions made to make it feel more cinematic are actually to its detriment - cutting between the Roy Cohn/Jack Smith performances rather than letting them run one after the other (as they did on stage) means that a lot of the key moments that have been built to slowly get undercut.
Nevertheless, Vawter is really incredible to watch, funny and scary and vulnerable, and it is really touching to see him playing two very different men who died of AIDS when he was so close to his own death from the same disease.”

Review by Grace

Watch here.

Antonia: A Portrait of the Woman

"I hate to tell you, but the people who have stopped me from conducting have mostly been women."

In the intro for this on TCM the Academy Film Archive president said we should watch this film with a grain of salt because "most of the issues have been fixed" and I wish I could have laughed right in his face. Very little has been fixed for women in the arts since this film was made fifty years ago and its incredibly disingenuous, and borderline propaganda, to say that they have while introducing this film's broadcast debut on national television. Especially given the issues the Academy has (and I don't just mean for directors; take a look at how many women have been nominated and/or won in the music categories of that org).

Anyways, Antonia is a badass and she should have gotten to conduct as many concerts a year as she could physically and mentally do. Also, this restoration is gorgeous.

Review by Marya E. Gates.

Watch here.

TETOC CLASSICS:

First up, the short is Pots 'n Tots by Kati Skelton. Two artists are chosen by some sort of non-profit to come under their wing. Immediately the person in charge separates the two, clearly favoring the male artist. Initially we think this is going to be about jealousy, isolation as an artist... but something more sinister is afoot. Well, also it must be noted that Skelton has a sense of humor. The film is dark and absurd, with many funny moments, from cults operating under the guise of a strange food-and-children operation (although maybe that isn't so weird) to a key electrocuting people in cloaks. We love the absurdity and you will too.

Watch here.

Our short is storm by Jake Panek.

all that a film needs to be: man, sky, gods, earth. reminds me of watching old VHS recordings of tornadoes and hurricanes, the inky blackness punctuated by iridescent flashes. the ambient droning of insects and rain brings great peace to the soul; panek understands how to frame clouds better than most filmmakers know how to frame faces.

Review by comrade yui

Watch here.

Our feature is Marked Woman by Lloyd Bacon.

A Warner gangster/woman melodrama loosely based on the case that led Lucky Luciano pre war arrest. The ripped-from-the-headlines origins keeps this urgency, and the focus on exploited women makes it very refreshing, with lots of warm room between them. One of Bette Davis' better vehicles from the 30s, with plenty of opportunity to highlight her while keeping closer to Warner stock-in-trade. Bogart gets one of his few late 30s non-criminal parts, Davis even gets to call him a chump. His character is based on Thomas Dewey, by curiosity. Llloyd Bacon handles this tight with plenty of good eye for the characters lives.

Review by Filipe Furtado.

Watch here.

That is all. Until next time.

Our short film is Hierography by Kevin Contento. This black and white film follows three teenagers in the wheatfields, away from greater society, hunting rabbits. They appear to be getting money for these rabbits, though the better and bigger the rabbit... the more money. Two of the teens scheme together, compete in a race, while the other goes off on his own.... becoming in tune to nature. This is a quiet picture, focusing on a small seemingly insignificant moment... one of the best things a film can do is highlight a moment that is either taken for granted or a moment that is inexplicable.... words won't do it justice, words are incapable of giving honor to this moment. This is what Contento's film does.

Watch here.

Our short is Mermaid, B-tch by Victoria Negri.

A young woman wakes up to find herself turned into a mermaid.

Love the style of humor and the angsty vibe. My favorite moment was the director's cameo as a judgmental passerby.

My review and the full movie here:
quellemovies.com/2025/07/mermaid-bitch/

Watch here.

Our feature is Twilight by Gyorgy Feher.

In a small town in Hungry girls are turning up murdered, with a similar method. The cops get to work. The film is shot at times with a seemingly apocalyptic high contrast black and white- rooms and the environment are hazy from smoke- from cigarettes and what feels like sulfer rising from the ground. In an early scene the cops tell a woman her daughter has been killed- she breaks down in hysterics- the ominous mood captured by Feher's slow moving camera. This is what the film is- an unflinching look into the madness of violence and our futile attempts to reckon with it.

A pedophile is rounded up, but he is not the killer- he commits suicide. The police feel hysteria over these murders will tear the town apart., There's a scene where the cops are bickering and the camera shifts (its always moving across horizontal lines) to reveal a packed crowd- the way the frame is bit, the orientation of objects in the frame evoke FAUST (1926, Murnau).

"Twilight" large unfolds in slow plodding oners, and while I'm a outspoken fan of virtuosity in many cases, what's stunning about "Twilight" is how simple the camera movements are. They are indeed,l somewhat in the tradition of Bela Tar but Feher re-frames them to have their own more emotive vocabulary, these oners are shaped by the blocking and locations in many cases instead of the camera. We shift from wide shots to sudden close ups with ease, The camera moves slow but by the end of each sequence we will have seen dramatically different compositions. Its not about moving the camera in fantastic impossible ways but rather organizing the blocking to transform the emotional power of what you're watching. These oners, while certainly elaborate, are less about technique and more about tapping into a new emotional and psychological language. These oners unlike other popular displays are about the transformation of ideas! psychologically, emotionally we always start out with a different impression than the one we end on.

Review by Alex, full review here.

Watch here.

TETOC CLASSICS:

Wake Me When I Leave is our feature this week, made by Tyler Rubenfeld. A woman wakes up in her bed, next to her partner, and stares transfixed into the dark... seeing a ghostly figure. We then are taken into a trip prior to this moment, seeing the moments of this couple meeting, dating, getting to know one another... the lead, Jill, is continually haunted, telling her that something just isn't right. And it may have something to do with her partner, and what happened when they first met. What happens when the foundation your love is built on being completely fabricated? Or the uncertainty of it being a certain way, even? Rubenfeld treats this terror and unknown in exciting ways -- scenes or even background plots of two people testing out movie effects are fun, but also call into question the ways in which we insist that something is real when it isn't, or when something is fake and it isn't. Uncertainty and tension are channeled throughout the film completely. Even in one surreal moment, in which Jill restages the party she met her boyfriend at -- and one wonders if that scene is real, or work she is merely doing in her head -- we are still unsure of reality. All we have is the feeling. and it is pain.

Watch here.

Our short is Manifestations by Devin Morgan.

“Immersive, patient slow cinema where strands of analog horror manifest in the inherent human element of the medium “No matter how hard you may try, people tend to work their way into landscapes” along with the strange alchemy of development and post-processing, where unseen images come alive. Lot of cool perspective tricks, playing around with first-person subjective POVs that make you question who the real subject is and who is the observer ... The use of sound and some deliberate panning during the staircase / final sequence to communicate unseen ghostly movements is an idea I would love to see taken further. Photographer’s loss of control here and resignation to become the subject of a work which is outside his frame of understanding left me with the uneasy feeling that whether we like it or not, our work will never escape us as people – the unique imprint but also the baggage we bring. To reveal the world we must also reveal ourselves. Is a landscape ever really just a landscape, or a record of the generations who have shaped it?”

Full review here.

Watch here.

Our feature is Yule Croak by Robert Morin.

“AUTUMN SONATA meets Harmony Korine. Essentially a Mad Ophelia monologue inside a tiny room in a convalescent home, save for a bit of recreational playing in traffic, it makes the most of its found footage conceit: Who is mercilessly grilling this bedridden senior citizen from behind a cheap camcorder, why does he love his dead mother so much and oh dear God what is he going to do with that hypodermic needle. A stark portrait of a broken family emerges between frequent visits from increasingly alarmed staff members, and then Santa shows up with a jolly antibacterial soap bar on a lanyard.“

Full review here.

Watch here.

Our short is The Panty Symphonic by Zach Strum. What follows is truly an absurd, inventive comedy... one that keeps growing and delighting, surpasses itself from minute to minute, set piece to set piece. It's rare to see something like this so pleasurable and effortless, without any sense of it running out of steam. A man finds himself dead, then transported into some sort of orchestral performance... and then finds his tongue stretching out infinitely... all of this generated, seemingly, by a pair of underwear. Shot in a somewhat lo-fi digital look compliments its anything-goes attitude, maybe because it takes away the barrier to entry... you, the viewer, could be going for broke, too.

Watch here.

Our short is Building Bombs by Susan Robinson and Mark Mori.

Building Bombs offers a fair look at the failings of the nuclear weapons facility in South Carolina. It's not especially moralistic, though it lets those who formerly worked for plant voice their regret. This is more an examination of how dangerous and irresponsible practices have been at this and other facilities. Contamination of ground water over four states is perhaps the biggest concern and governmental cover-ups of this information is especially damning. Though this is 20 years old, you can feel the urgency in the filmmaking.

Full review here.

Watch here.

Our feature is the 17th Parallel by Marceline Loridan-Ivens and Joris Ivens.

While visiting Vietnam in 2016, I had the opportunity to discuss lasting effects of the war with a man named Toan. He was born after the war, and his father fought for the NVA. Toan told us that the only English phrases his father knew were "Stand up!" and "Hands in the air!"

In the final moments of The 17th Parallel, an instructor teaches a group children how to say "Hands up!" when encountering American soldiers. If the "soldier doesn't obey calmly," he says, "we have to react immediately." At one point, his lecture becomes entirely drowned out by a bomb falling nearby. Not-so-distant bombardments pervade the soundtrack, and the film itself feels like it’s coming apart at the seams from the chaos. Sound intermittently syncs up with the images as reality often invades the photography.

Yet the day to day continues: villagers rebuild homes, doctors work in tunnel hospitals, children play war games. The citizens don't keep their anger a secret, and 69-year-old Ivens captures it with a similarly ferocious energy. His gaze never falters, whether it's a new corpse under rubble or the parading of a captured American soldier. Adaptability becomes Ivens primary motif throughout, watching as the Vietnamese pull parts from bomb wreckage and repurpose them for their needs, or when women take on new roles in the rebuilding of their lives. It's breathtaking journalism, right in the heart of the conflict.

Full review here.

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Our short is Valparaiso by Joris Ivens.

This is why I love cinema. I was in my room 27 minutes ago and I knew nothing about Valparaiso. Now I have toured there, climbed the stairs, felt the wind, taken the cable car, smelled the salty smell of the harbour, danced, and been a guest in the houses on the hills. This short documentary film give me emotions that many feature films do not. I would die to go to Valparaiso now.

In Valparaiso the houses are triangular so they are impossible to furnish. The poor live at the top, the poorest at the very top. All streets are full of stairs. It's a port city so no one goes hungry. There's always fish to eat. The windy sky is full of kites. People use cable cars to go up the hills, which looks amazing. I didn't just watch all of this, I saw it as if with my own eyes. Documentary at it finest. Valparaiso was shot in both documentary and film style. Objective yet fictional. Real yet dreamlike.

It also touches on a big difference between people living in the same city, speaking the same language: money. The gap between the rich and the poor. The rich go from one party to another while the poor can't find water. I think it's the same everywhere in the world. The poor get poorer while the rich get richer.

It was great, one of the best shorts I've ever watched. Whether you're interested in Valparaiso or not, you'll love this. I highly recommend it. I had a terrible exam today and it was a dark day. After watching this my day brightened up. This film gave me "something." Something nice.

Review by selcen here.

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Our feature is Frameup by Jon Jost.

Jost applies his great strength in composition and editing to show that the image is more important than the words which through the monotonous delivery, use of constant repetitions, and declarations of details (with a range of statements mostly taking the form of statements of obvious characteristics of things, observations of more minor physical aspects, rants on constructs of society, and subjective descriptions usually relayed through personal musings on past events) are always longwinded exercises in futility.

Review by Adam Cloutier here.

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TETOC Classics:

Our short is Ashes to Idols by Rahul Ranjan.

This documentary short follows a teenager who cleans up the messes believers (and tourists, likely) leave behind, and then repurposes them into idols. Prison inmates help in this process as well. Ranjan captures a number of beautiful images and really focuses on the work... or rework... of discarded material into objects that can be respected anew. This, coupled with the presence of the imprisoned, leads to a great theme of rebirth -- the work that goes into that and the unlimited potential for change.

Watch here.

Our short is Grace by Natalie Jasmine Harris.

“Their hands lingering as Grace offers Louise a flower to remember her by… their bright and hopeful smiles… tears after tears after tears. Grateful for this chance to experience my favorite short film from Sundance again. 💜

Grace feeling that to “repent” she must choose her faith over her summer love, the look back she gives before stepping into the water for her baptism. My heart aches for her. My heart aches for all lesbian and queer women who’ve been told they need to sacrifice a part of themselves in the name of another. May all the Grace and Louises of the world find each other.

Just witnessed one of the most beautiful shots I’ve ever witnessed in any film ever and it’s that breathtaking, heartwarming overlay of Grace and Louise sharing a kiss above the wildly tender waves of the ocean. Instantly had me in tears. What a gorgeous production. There’s a softness to every frame that almost feels like a dream and yet it’s all so awake, so alive. So so romantic and so so sad. All my love and heart and soul to queer folks who come from traditional religious households forever, and all the roses to director Natalie Jasmine Harris — I will be so seated for her first feature film!!! I’m just in awe over here. Here’s to Black lesbian love. I’m thinking about my beautiful friends and their partners tonight, you know who you are my beautiful friends. I love you! I’m crying.”

Review by ada.

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Our feature is Dipso by Theodore Collatos.

“Dipso is a quiet and assured film that calmly creeps up on your emotions without sentimentality or preachy 'message'. It got deep under my skin. It isn't without humor though, in fact there's a deadpan tiredness that feels as if you've eavesdropping on old friends giving each other a hard time. At times it was like a documentary about people I know and love, but have no chance at 'The American Dream' which I can relate so much to... Student loan debt isn't the issue here, but rather the destruction of the working class that has devastated the US of A. The story follows wanna-be stand up Tommy as he tries and reconnect to a society that has no structure anymore. The cast is wonderful, the style elegant although punk rock, and fact the brothers are actual brothers in real life adds to the truthfulness.”

Review by cine_madame

Watch here.