FILM / Captain Canada's Movie Rodeo / January 2023 / Gabriel Ricard
Image © Warner Bros. Pictures
2022 is behind us. It’s inevitable to want to use this space at this time of the year to go through what I watched across the past twelve months. There’s also the obvious impulse to try and figure out if the year we barely all survived was a good one or a bad one. I’m inclined to think 2022 was a good one for film, particularly if you’re a fan of horror. This isn’t a horror column, but I lean into the genre more than anything else, and it almost feels hyperbolic to call this year one of the best in my lifetime as a fan of horror films. From Barbarian to Pearl and X, Prey, Nope, Mad God, and so many more, I wasn’t bored for even a moment.
But what about the rest of film? Any given year usually breaks down into two categories. There are movies that are new to the world at large, and then there’s movies that were new to me. A quick glance at the highest grossing movies of 2022 shows only one I would personally put in any top ten (The Batman). It was a solid calendar year for new releases, with Tár, The Northman, Everything Everywhere All at Once, The Banshees of Inisherin, The Woman King, Turning Red, and quite a few more.
For movies new to me, 2022 was stellar. I will never live long enough to see every single film I could ever want to watch. Few will. That means every year I’m alive and looking for movies to watch is a year with a couple dozen, at least, movies I enjoyed or better. This year I saw Walkabout, Bone, The Man from Laramie, The Big Knife, As Above So Below, Road Games, The Harder They Come, Cinema Paradiso, and more than I will list here.
We could talk all day about whether art or cinema are in danger. I think there’s an argument to be made either way at this point. It’s chaos and all I can personally do is to try and not become too despaired by it. What I do know is that I want to try and live in the moment a little more. To that specific end, I think 2022 was a great year for film from at least my perspective.
Magnum Opus: The .MOVie (2022): B-
Image © Addison Binek
The comparisons between Addison Binek (Psycho Ape) and his new film Magnum Opus: The .MOVie and the Jackass universe of films and shows are inevitable and welcomed. This comes up a lot as you watch this collection of ridiculous stunts and physical comedy bits recorded by Binek with his friends over the years of his youth. The inspiration is very clue, and it’s worth keeping in mind if you find yourself surprised to discover that this movie is quite clever and deeply funny.
One of the reasons why the Jackass franchise endures is because there’s a sweetness to the friendships of its participants. These are people who genuinely derive joy from doing dumb, sometimes dangerous things together. To put it another way, and certainly up to a point, it can be pretty fucking funny to watch your friend get hurt because they did something stupid.
Jumping around the years of material Binek assembled, you’re left with a goofy and occasionally exhilarating viewing experience. Magnum Opus obviously doesn’t have the resources of their MTV heroes, and that occasionally to jokes that don’t really work for me, but those are rare. I suspect most people who approach this with an open mind will have a similar experience. Which I hope you’ll have, as the film really is quite likable and sometimes distinctly inventive.
Walkabout (1971): A+
Image © 20th Century Fox
“Dreamlike” is a word that comes up a lot when people talk about Nicolas Roeg’s 1971 solo directing debut Walkabout. It suits a movie in which its two protagonists, a young girl (Jenny Agutter) and her little brother (Luc Roeg) are left to wander the Australian wilderness after their father tries to murder them. When Dad doesn’t succeed at this, he sets the car on fire and puts the gun to himself. That’s not a spoiler, but rather a very basic plot description. It’s the event that sets these two poor children on a path that never feels connected to reality. This could have something to do with the way the outback is depicted, as a sparse-yet-dangerous universe unto itself. The stunning cinematography by director Nicolas Roeg creates an atmosphere that feels strange, unpredictable, terrifying, and yet beautiful in the way all of these qualities, contradictions, and frightening situations coexist.
It’s easy to get lost in this world. Our characters experience this idea of getting lost, even as they meet a young aboriginal boy (a highlight performance from the late, monumental David Gulpilil). We engage the thought in our own way, while simultaneously becoming very committed to seeing what happens to the kids next. Walkabout leaves you in an emotional state similar to its own.
Night Killer (1990): C-
Image © Flora Film
Night Killer is messy and fucking ugly. It’s easy to call this confusing dreck, and I can promise you there’s going to be several moments of utter bafflement throughout this story of a killer in a sort-of Freddy Krueger mask, one of his potential victims, and her relationship to a stalker and kidnapper who may or may not be the maniac who almost killed her. Night Killer is low-budget Italian weirdness at its finest. There’s definitely some effort to squeeze a few drops out of the (at the time) dying slasher genre, but there’s also within this film some truly audacious, inspired choices. I don’t think I can even put to words how surprising this movie can be, and while that’s not always a good thing, it’s never boring.
Some of those choices may be a little difficult for some to accept. I can’t argue with that. There’s not a lot about this grimy, bewildering, and sometimes even offensive that’s worth going to bat for. Yet it just wouldn’t be fair to say this movie isn’t worth your time. Beyond a fascinating performance by Tara Buckman as the woman who goes through, well, a fucking lot, Night Killer really is worth a look for those who want to see a filmmaker try something truly unusual.
Elvis (2022): B-
Image © Warner Bros. Pictures
Against all the odds set by my general dislike of the movies of Baz Luhrmann, Elvis manages to be one of the most entertaining movies I saw in 2022. It’s also as good a biopic about Elvis Presley as we’re ever going to get, with an emphasis on telling the story of Presley (the hype for Austin Butler’s spot-on performance is real, guys) in the most bombastic fashion possible. That shouldn’t work as well as it does, with Elvis aspiring to present Presley as a genuine human being in a cinematic story that desires mythmaking on a level that challenges the reality DNA of reality itself. It should be insufferable, feverish, and intensely pretentious. Yet, again, against all odds, it worked for me.
Elvis relates its biography through bizarre deathbed narration by Presley’s infamous manager Colonel Tom Parker. God help me for saying this, but there’s something about Tom Hanks’ performance here that really worked for me. I’m still not sure I want to embrace Hanks’ tone for playing a man who seemingly relished in the wretched duality of loving Elvis but being perfectly pragmatic about his value as an entertainer above all else. At the same time, I’ll readily admit it’s one of the most fascinating performances of that man’s wide-ranging career.
Tom Hanks performance is just one element I find myself quietly obsessed with since seeing Elvis. Austin Butler’s performance, and how it works for whatever Luhrmann wants to do with this biopic, is another element I find myself increasingly impressed by. When the film wants to be a decadent musical, Butler is there. When the film becomes a sordid piece of sensationalism, Butler’s performance once again centers the moment. His unpredictable choices within a very disciplined approach to capturing the essence of Presley provides the film with the stability needed to appreciate its wild swings to be one of the most admirable big budget efforts to do something different in the often-bleak 2020s.
Mandabi: (1968): A-
Image © Filmi Domirev | StudioCanal
Ousmane Sembène was a giant of Senegalese filmmaking. I’m a newcomer to his immense body of socially-conscious, narratively thrilling films, and Mandabi is seemingly the best place to begin approaching his work. Believed to be West Africa’s first full-length film crafted in an African language (Wolof), Mandabi is very clearly rooted in its peoples and culture, and how those things were currently being shaped by outside forces like colonialism. At the same time, there’s something universal in the way we deeply emphasize with the protagonist Ibrahima Dieng. Beset by occasionally poor life choices and loads of bad luck, Ibrahima sinks deeper and deeper in his efforts to recover some must-needed money sent by a family member. The stakes start high and only escalate as Ibrahima’s life spirals out of control. It’s easy to feel bad for him, and the movie builds on the knowledge that we will likely want something to go right for this poor guy.
Mandabi however isn’t just a sad story about a man whose lack of photo identification establishes a crisis that seemingly attacks his very identity. Beneath its gloomy labyrinth of governmental failure is a bitter sort of comedy melded with the warmth of a plea from its creator to find peace with our neighbor and never forget who or what really seeks to control and devour our blood, sweat, and souls.
Gabriel Ricard writes, edits, and occasionally acts. His books Love and Quarters and Bondage Night are available through Moran Press, in addition to A Ludicrous Split (Alien Buddha Press) and Clouds of Hungry Dogs (Kleft Jaw Press). He is also a writer, performer, and producer with Belligerent Prom Queen Productions. He lives on a horrible place called Long Island.
