Wake Us Up from Dreamy ‘Sound of Falling’

Sometimes watching a movie is like seeing someone’s dreams, a hypnotic experience where we get to witness the obsessions and fantasies of an artist.

At other times, watching a movie can be like listening to someone describe their dreams, which can be dreary and patience testing. Mascha Schilinski’s “Sound of Falling” begins like the former but becomes the latter.

This love-it-or-hate-it drama, an acclaimed favorite on the film festival circuit and probable Oscar contender, has it followers. I was completely on board with Schilinski’s vision at first, until I got to the point where I couldn’t defend it and just wanted it to end.

“Sound of Falling” is a highly stylized German film, showing us a family that has lived in a home a century ago, lingering on their daily lives and unguarded moments. Then the story jumps to a generation later, with the family living during World War II, then during the 1980s, then in more contemporary times.

Sometimes we see this family in a different setting but most of the film centers around the property that opened the film and lingers on the moments that are private and unflattering.

Comparisons to the films of Ingmar Bergman are merited, as the pace, tone and visuals reminded me of some of his darker, more contemplative films.

Yet, to go with a more crassly mainstream comparison, “Sound of Falling” is exactly what Robert Zemeckis’ “Here” (2024) was trying to be. In both films, the camera is the eye, as we are the invisible visitors/observers watching different generations of people inhabiting a single space over periods of time.

Schilinski’s eerie film is like “Fanny and Alexander” (1982) crossed with the darkest detours from David Lynch or Lynne Ramsay. In fact, the entire first act reminded me of Lynch’s “Eraserhead” (1977). I mean this as a compliment. and this portion of the film had me bewitched and optimistic.

In some scenes, characters are seen gazing directly into the camera, right at us, a truly unsettling feeling. The editing will take jumps into the near future, showing us a character we’re currently watching, then revealing the moment of their death, then cutting back to where we left off.

Then the story cuts to a more recent time in human history, but the feeling of being a voyeur never ceases. Sometimes, we watch what seem like random moments. At other times, the characters take focus and become vivid and relatable.

Like the best films of Lynch, it fluctuates wildly between resembling a gorgeous painting or a dread-inducing waking nightmare.

“Sound of Falling” turns uncomfortably intimate and difficult after an hour, becoming hard to endure, let alone remain invested in. My admiration remains for the artistry, but the film becomes unbearable.

At 155 minutes, the endless loop of discomfiting, often perverse imagery wore me down. There is true film artistry here and the film will stay with you but whether you want to experience something this taxing in full is up to the viewer. David Lynch came up a lot in my critique, reminding me how much I miss him but also how much heart and humanity exists in his work, even at his coal-black darkest.

“Sound of Falling” needed to be more like Lynch, with his tendency to linger on lost innocence, and less like invisible, unholy surveillance footage. Schilinski is a major talent, and I’m looking forward to whatever she does next, but I won’t ever watch “Sound of Falling” again.

Two Stars (out of four)

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Someone Should Bury ’28 Years Later: The Bone Temple’

It takes a special skill to make a dull zombie flick.

Zack Snyder’s “Army of the Dead” managed that dubious feat. So did Jim Jarmusch’s “The Dead Don’t Die.” At least “We Bury the Dead,” which focused on grief more than gore, kept our attention.

Those films all have some pluses, something that’s harder to say about “28 Years Later: The Bone Temple.” We could blame director Nia DaCosta, still smarting over her disastrous MCU debut (“The Marvels”), for the anemic sequel.

The real culprit is screenwriter Alex Garland.

The mind behind the “28 Days Later” franchise didn’t know where he wanted the story to go next, apparently. He settled on mindless torture, paper-thin characters and a story arc about a kinder, gentler corpse.

No cap.

Spike (Alfie Williams), the lad introduced in 2025’s “28 Years Later,” is now part of a murderous gang who wear stringy blond wigs.

Their leader, Jimmy Crystal (Jack O’Connell), indoctrinates poor Spike into the crew in the dumbest scene possible.

Some might call that a sign.

Jimmy’s acolytes (dubbed his Fingers) wander the undead landscape, searching for a story that never appears. Sure, they bump into other human survivors, but nothing that remotely resembles a subplot emerges.

Unless you consider torture a narrative perk.

Meanwhile, Dr. Kelson (Ralph Fiennes) is still puttering about his Bone Temple in between encounters with an “alpha” zombie he dubs Samson (Chi Lewis-Parry). Dr. Kelson repeatedly drugs Samson to ensure his personal safety, but in doing so discovers something that could help humanity survive the undead apocalypse.

Or, Dr. Kelson just needs a friend. Where’s Wilson when you need him?

RELATED: THE BEST ZOMBIE MOVIES POST ’28 DAYS LATER’

“The Bone Temple” is aggressively bloody, but while some horror leans into the icky stuff, like the darkly comic “Terrifier” saga, “Temple” lacks purpose. Even more unsettling? Why do we care about any of these characters?

Poor Spike isn’t much of a focal point, and he’s too small to make a difference. Spike’s growing bond with a fellow Finger (Erin Kellyman) is weak at best, robbing the film of a compelling subplot.

And why does anyone follow Jimmy in the first place? O’Connell can be mesmerizing, and he’s burning endless calories here, along with a red-skinned Fiennes. There’s no substance behind the theatrics.

Garland’s often astute storytelling evaporates early on, and his dialogue is a blend of coy musings and over-the-top blather.

Make it stop. That goes for the movie, too.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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The third act features a gonzo deep cut that, taken by itself, is gloriously unhinged. Seen as part of the big picture, though, it feels like a franchise frantic for a “member berries” moment.

“The Bone Temple” is pure visual noise. Ugly, visual noise, to be exact. Some of the better zombie movies have something to say, either a gloomy take on societal decline or observations on race and capitalism. The previous movie observed how humanity reverts back to classic gender roles during a societal reboot.

This film’s most inventive twist? Sure, those flesh-eating zombies are bad, but the remnants of humanity are even worse.

Whoa! If only zombie king George A. Romero had thought of that first.

Oh, wait, he did. And so did other filmmakers who have tried their hand at undead thrillers.

It’s the genre’s laziest trope, but it’s almost all “The Bone Temple” has to offer … unless you count Dr. Kelson trying to rehabilitate Samson before it rips his brain and spinal cord out.

There’s nothing here of consequence … until the epilogue.

No spoilers, of course, but expect a clunky stab at social relevance that comes out of nowhere and can’t connect with anything we’ve just witnessed. It will make TDS sufferers cry out in recognition, if this critic’s screening is any indication.

The best to be said about DaCosta’s direction is that she captures that frenzied, “28 Days Later” style that connects franchise installments. She also makes the very most of that titular Temple.

Beyond that, there’s precious little to savor from her handiwork or a franchise that has run out of things to say (or kill).

HiT or Miss: “28 Years Later: The Bone Temple” isn’t just a sorry excuse for a sequel. It’s a prime candidate for the year’s worst movie. And it’s only January.

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‘Primate’ – Avoid Furious George at All Costs

In the opening scene of Johannes Roberts’ “Primate,” a dumbbell wearing a loud Aloha shirt visits a chimpanzee habitat, makes annoying wisecracks to the visibly unhappy chimp and, within seconds, gets his face ripped off.

We know why this happened.

A pre-title card informs us that chimps who catch rabies can become dangerously aggressive. I suspect a more plausible reason for this scene, as well as the entire movie: someone suggested in a studio meeting that the simian attack scene in Jordan Peele’s “Nope” (2022) was far too subtle.

We meet a group of dumb, attractive teenagers, whose characters can be summed up as The Stoner Guy, The Sober Responsible One, The Hot Girl Who Will Die Immediately, The Younger Sister of the Responsible One, etc.

The actor with the most to do is Trot Kotsur, the wonderful, Oscar-winning actor of “CODA” (2021). Kotsur is playing an author who apparently writes awful books (sporting titles like “A Silent Death”) and has a pet chimp, whom he forces to wear an ugly red t-shirt, in his fancy cliffside home.

Clearly, Kotsur deserves better. So does the audience.

This chimp slasher movie devolves into a trapped-in-a-swimming-pool-with-a-killer-chimp thriller. The whole thing is set on Oahu, which is conveyed with lots of Aloha shirts, beach vistas and “Hawaii” signs, but the end credits (and unconvincing art direction) reveal this was filmed nowhere near a Hawaiian island.

Speaking of unconvincing, the core threat, Ben the Chimpanzee, is either a guy in a suit or an animatronics puppet but, either way, it never looks remotely real. It actually helps, as this is a hateful exploitation flick, not about a ravenous jungle creature turned bad but, far more dubious, a domesticated, ASL-speaking chimp, the kind featured in Francine Patterson’s 1978 children’s book, “Koko’s Kitten.”

I get it, nothing is off limits in the horror genre (Exhibit A. the recent “Winnie the Pooh”-inspired kill-fest). Yet, the ick factor in this is off the charts, which some genre fans will be happy to note.

Some of “Primate” is truly vile, such as the ample, showy gore set pieces where faces are yanked off and eaten. Much of the film is unintentionally hilarious. I’ll give Roberts proper credit for making a technically competent film, and I loved the bit where the chimp knows how to use a key fob to catch a victim.

Otherwise, I spent the running time rolling my eyes in disgust or laughing at it in contempt.

I’m old enough to remember the 1986 Richard Franklin thriller, “Link,” which starred Elisabeth Shue and Terrence Stamp and is just like this movie, only with one teenager instead of a half dozen. “Link” was also a stinker, though I’d rather revisit that one than suffer through this again.

The moments that try to tap into Ben the chimp’s tortured transformation and stifled humanity are the worst – the filmmakers and sadistic screenwriter don’t care about this animal and are just setting up another moment where the creature will perform more unwanted dental surgery on a cluster of dumb characters.

How stupid are these people? The realization that Ben the chimp has rabies arrives absurdly late, as does the suggestion that getting in a pool can protect the cellphone-obsessed teens.

Another character comes rushing back to his house, which has obviously been trashed by the chimp, but is distracted enough by a slice of pizza to miss the danger standing right behind him. Yet, if anyone in this movie acted like a rational human being and called the proper authorities early on, the story would have wrapped up after 11-minutes.

Here’s a small way to improve this awful movie: rather than a forgettable title like “Primate,” why not call it “The Chimpening” or “Furious George?”

One Star (out of four)

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‘Father Mother Sister Brother’ Is Pure Jarmusch Gold

Jim Jarmusch’s “Father Mother Sister Brother” is a three-story anthology film exploring the bonds we have with our siblings and the way so many of us can say we love our parents but had to survive an unsteady upbringing.

Like his poetic, deeply moving “Paterson” (2016), Jarmusch’s latest stars Adam Driver. The film begins slowly, establishes repeating patterns, dawdles long enough to make you wonder if it will all come together, until it does, beautifully.

We open on the segment titled “Father,” in which a brother and sister (Driver and Mayim Bialik) drive to a remote part of New Jersey to visit their dad (Tom Waits). The pre-visit conversation suggests there will be tension and that the isolation of the father’s location extends to how he’s viewed by his children.

Among the details that come up in this segment that have stayed with me – Waits’ patriarch reminds his children how he used to make “cookie chicken” and that they used to love it. Maybe I’m wrong about this but is he saying that he used to sprinkle crumbles of cookie atop a chicken and bake it for their amusement?

From the looks of things, I think I’m right about this.

The sequence is a long piece of three-person drama, with what remains unsaid having even more dramatic weight than what comes out in casual conversation. Waits is extraordinary during this sequence, though I was especially impressed by Bialik, who I remember once stole Garry Marshall’s “Beaches” (1988) by playing a younger Bette Midler.

The story jumps to the next vignette, set in Dublin, titled “Mother,” with screen legend Charlotte Rampling playing a writer awaiting the arrival of her daughters (Cate Blanchett and Vicky Krieps). Although this segment is unrelated to the one that came before it, there is overlap in the topics that arise (ranging from water to the omnipresence of skateboarding teens in the distance).

Also, most pivotally, we’re struck by the knowledge we carry from the dialogue occurring before the gathering and witness how so much should be discussed but goes unspoken.

“He loves the absurdity of being alive, and he’s always trying to figure out, how the hell do we all find ourselves in the same room together? How are we going to work this thing out?”

– FATHER MOTHER SISTER BROTHER star Cate Blanchett on director Jim Jarmusch. pic.twitter.com/Ndo8wE5koP

— MUBI US (@mubiusa) January 7, 2026

Finally, we arrive at “Sister Brother,” the best segment, where a different pair of siblings (Indya Moore and Luka Sabbat) are tasked with going to the apartment of their recently deceased parents. During their time together, the brother and sister reconnect with their past via memories and uncovering photographs reminding them of where they come from.

What I’ve provided above is a fairly simple, spoiler-free description of the plot but seeing this is so much better than the synopsis above. Jarmusch, as always, creates a distinct mood. Filmgoers who don’t like his movies often dismiss his work as “detached,” while I’d say his best films are observant, patient and full of universal truths.

Jarmusch’s last film, the all-star zombie comedy, “The Dead Don’t Die” (2019), felt like an in-joke and a rare failure in his body of work. What this filmmaker is capable of includes the fantastic Bill Murray career highlight “Broken Flowers” (2005) and the delightful “Mystery Train” (1989).

Cinephiles tend to lean into the one-two punch of Jarmusch’s breakthroughs, “Stranger Than Paradise” (1984) and “Down By Law” (1986) but I’m a bigger fan of the loopy “Night On Earth” (1991) and “Ghost Dog: The Way of the Samurai” (2000), Jarmusch’s best film.

“Father Mother Sister Brother” is among Jarmusch’s finest, in that its staying power sneaks up on you. The early scenes are interesting but vague – where was the movie going? By the time you get to the emotionally rich final scenes, Jarmusch isn’t just applying his one-of-a-kind brand of cool and creating another richly textured cinematic mix tape, he’s reminding us of the complex relationship we have with our parents and legacies.

As with “Paterson” and “Broken Flowers,” the first act had me curious but feeling in the dark, but the payoff is so touching and thoughtful, it left me enriched by the experience…it also inspired me to call my parents.

Three and a half stars (out of four)

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‘Primate’ Will Drive Horror Movie Fans Bananas

This critic doesn’t endorse talking in movie theaters.

But…

Sometimes a horror film is so gonzo, so full of jaw-dropping kills, that a quip from the crowd can’t hurt. “Primate” is that kind of movie.

Director Johannes Roberts knows this material isn’t Shakespeare. Or even “Jackass.” So he leans into the task at hand with glee.

The result? A lean, and very mean B-movie that leaves a discernible mark.

The setup is Generic Horror Movie 101, albeit with a stunning backdrop. Young, beautiful people gather to swim, flirt and fight over the same dude.

The affable Lucy (Johnny Sequoyah) is back from college, along with her best gal pal Kate (Victoria Wyant) and Hannah (Jessica Alexander). Lucy’s father (Tony Kotsur) is glad to have his daughter alongside her younger sister (Gia Hunter) again in their luxurious Hawaiian home.

What a backdrop!

Oh, and this particular clan has a very smart chimp named Ben for a pet. When Ben acts strangely in Hannah’s presence, she’s told that the monkey takes time to adjust to strangers.

Seems an important detail to share with house guests, right?

But “Primate” is that kind of movie. It’s deeply silly at times, but the opening sequence sets the macabre tone. Turns out poor Ben’s odd behavior isn’t just a stranger-danger vibe but a sudden case of rabies. The animal’s adorable nature will soon be replaced by rage.

Buckle in.

Roberts, who cowrote the film with Ernest Riera, sketches out some mildly dramatic conflicts within the main character group. It’s perfunctory at best, but once ol’ Ben loses his cool, the melodrama gets shoved to the background.

This is a creature feature, and the effects used to make Ben go postal are flat-out terrific. No CGI, thank you, but a slick combination of puppetry and stunt work that gives the film a tangible charge.

Those looking for a message within “Primate” will come away empty. This is adrenaline theater, expertly arranged for our amusement. Some plot twists seem forced, while others flow beautifully into the overarching narrative.

One example? 

Casting a deaf performer like Kotsur as the patriarch allows the film to ratchet up the tension at the perfect time. One scene recalls the Netflix original “Hush,” which also featured a deaf protagonist.

Some recent horror films have tried to split the difference, delivering cheap jump scares within a PG:13 framework. Not “Primate.” This film gets nasty, and Ben’s handiwork has a sizable body count.

“Primate” offers some laugh-out-loud tension breaks. The kills also deliver a queasy laugh quotient, akin to a “Terrifier” film where we know what happens next but the anticipation is darkly comic.

And we can’t look away.

Give some credit to Kotsur (always stellar) and the youthful cast. They do more than merely hit their marks. They take wafer-thin characters and make us root for their survival.

Ben does the rest.

HiT or Miss: “Primate” is an adrenaline rush of a horror movie that isn’t afraid to spill some blood.

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Prepare to Be Bullied by ‘The Plague’

Charlie Polinger’s “The Plague” is the feature-length film debut of the writer/director, who has made short films up to this point.

The film may wind up a calling card that leads to bigger things, as the festival response to the film has been strong.

The story centers around Ben (Everett Blunck), a 12-year-old boy who joins a water polo team and immediately realizes he is an outcast amongst boys who are aggressive, obnoxious and casually cruel. Jake (Kayo Martin) is Ben’s teammate and is the worst of them.

Jake’s vibrant smile and unceasing sense of humor barely mask a casually sadistic streak and a tendency to lash out at anyone who opposes him. Ben immediately becomes Jake’s target, as Ben is slow to realize that the early taunting and sizing one another up isn’t boys-will-be-boys teasing but an early test.

The title refers to a sadistic game the boys play amongst one another, where they deem the unfavorable one in their midst as having “the plague.” If you disappoint or turn against them, no one will play with you or touch you, but you will be treated as if you have an incurable and highly contagious virus.

This subplot gives the film its title, but the psychological body horror this creates seems like baggage the film didn’t really need.

This intense, Kubrickian drama plays like “Full Metal Jacket” (1987) with middle school boys instead of soldiers. The story eventually becomes so overwrought and heavy-handed, that it strangles the life and humanity out of it.

Even “Lord of the Flies” (William Goldings’ novel or the two film adaptations) had some level of perspective to offer; this film simply drags us through the mud and will only make those of us who suffered through years of school bullying re-live that rotten time.

The genre shifts from psychological drama into outright body horror, with sharp alterations of tone and approach, is jarring. “The Plague” works best when grounded in reality, but it takes odd dips into outright horror that aren’t fully developed.

Polinger’s film is nightmarish enough without the efforts to explore Cronenberg territory.

The underwater photography is as inventively utilized as it is simply beautiful. Joel Edgerton’s character is a supporting turn – he’s solid as usual as a kind-hearted coach, but the film belongs to its young cast, who are all excellent.

Many scenes are impactful, due to the suspense of not knowing whether we’re about to witness the young protagonist breaking through and building a friendship or if it incites another violent altercation.

From the way there is no visible security ever in sight and how clueless or willingly ignorant the coach is regarding the safety of his group; the story seems contrived to hurt us and doesn’t play fair.

“The Plague” is an accomplished work, particularly in the way it sustains unease and suspense, but it all spins out of control in the same manner the protagonist does at the end. The ending is pat and inconclusive, a better example of the director’s capabilities than his way to properly conclude his tale.

The story has so many unresolved aspects, such as the truth about the title (is the plague a real threat or not?). So much of this plays like a self-conscious art movie.

Polinger can stage potent drama, but the end result is kind of like being bullied – you walk away from “The Plague” feeling sucker punched and little else.

Two Stars

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‘Sentimental Value’ Features Four Oscar-Worthy Turns

“Sentimental Value” is a Norwegian drama that centers around Gustav Borg, a celebrated filmmaker and father figure (Stellan Skarsgård) who has three crucial relationships with his daughters, though only two of them are blood relatives.

Gustav’s daughter Nora (Renate Reinsve) is a professional actress who, in the suspenseful opening sequence, is having a panic attack moments before a stage production begins.

Gustav’s other daughter, Agnes (Inga Ibsdotter Lilleaas) is tired of her father’s lifelong tendency to put his work before his family. Then there’s Rachel (Elle Fanning), an American actress who is thrilled to be working with Gustav and doesn’t have the history and heartache that his two daughters carry.

By the film’s end, Rachel is an equally crucial figure in Gustav’s life.

Director/co-writer Joaquim Trier’s film is about the story we’re watching and the film that Gustav is trying to put together. There’s a nice back and forth between the story and the art that inspired it, creating a proper extension of the narrative we’re witnessing.

Trier has made more stylish films than this, but there are individual sequences (like a pivotal beach gathering and the one-on-one confrontations with the daughters) that are splendid.

I preferred Trier’s “The Worst Person in the World” (2021), as it was more inventive and also showcased a fantastic lead turn by Reinsve.

Nevertheless, “Sentimental Value” is such a compassionate and gorgeously performed film that it makes a companion piece with Trier’s prior film. It stands alone as a moving depiction of how art can build a career but ruin a family dynamic.

There’s so much here that is richly explored and deeply compassionate, a family drama that aims to enlighten and, unlike many similar Oscar hopefuls this year, not beat us down with look-at-me acting and shameless histrionics.

The acting is unforced and affecting, to a point I had to remind myself that I was watching actors and not a documentary. No kidding, the performances are so persuasive, it’s easy to lose yourself to the characters when the portrayals are this vivid and nuanced.

The four lead turns are flawless. Reinsve’s performance might just be the best I’ve seen this year, though Lilleaas is also fantastic. There’s something special about the scenes between Fanning and Skarsgård, who is also giving a performance that is among his most vivid and layered.

Between this and her wonderful movie-stealing performance in “Predator: Badlands,” Fanning is touching in her willingness to play characters who are open books and utterly fragile.

“Sentimental Value” reminded me of Bergman in its silence, focus on character above all and capturing moments of beautiful spaces and the triumph that arises from surviving our hardest moments.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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It’s clear from the start how the film must end, and the final scene is very special. Still, I wanted the story to keep going. Perhaps this is an indication of how much I enjoyed Trier’s film, but it can also mean that I found that not enough was resolved by the third act.

Sometimes movies end exactly where they should – I admired Trier’s choice to conclude his film with perhaps the film’s most complicated shot, but I still wanted more from the story. Whereas some films find the perfect moment to wrap things up, I felt the ending here is satisfying at face value but in hindsight, inconclusive.

Not every story thread is properly addressed – I feel like young Erick and his father are neglected subplots. Yet, the level of the performances ensures that you feel every scene. Nevertheless, wanting a film that runs 133 minutes to go on longer and spend more time with its cast is probably an indication of how much I enjoyed “Sentimental Value.”

Three Stars (out of four)

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