Cannes Dispatch – Megalopolis / Bird / The Girl with the Needle

I’m happy to report that there was no bomb among the three competition films seen today. While each of the three frustrates in one way or another, on the whole they were all rewarding viewing experiences worthy of your attention. Having said that, for now, the wait for the first Masterpiece at #Cannes77 continues.

One of the most high-profile films at this year’s festival is of course Francis Ford Coppola’s self-financed passion project Megalopolis. Expect divisive reactions to this one. It’s not only a wildly bold movie but also just so much of a movie. Over its 138-min runtime, it aims to cover subjects as vast as time, consciousness, and the end of human civilization. Comparing the United States to the Roman Empire before its collapse, the story revolves around imaginary figures of American politics, finance and media as they fight for power and final say over the future of our race. At the center is the head of the Design Authority (named Caesar – wink, wink – played by Adam Driver), who has invented the material Megalon with which he intends to build the titular city of the future.

To drive home the point of the film being a fable, characters are often dressed in Roman garb and quote ancient sayings to each other. Is any of that very subtle? No. Is it challenging to get on the film’s very particular wavelength? You bet. I’d readily admit I was really struggling watching its first hour. But the film’s second half features gorgeously eloquent visual flourishes which make it increasingly clear that Coppola is addressing some big, essential ideas and the sheer scope of his ambition stuns. You also come to appreciate Megalopolis as a chance to revisit some of Coppola’s life’s work: The treacherous family dynamics of the Godfather trilogy, the paranoia and distrust of government embedded in The Conversation, even the technicolor professions of love from One From the Heart, they’re all there and would no doubt delight fans of the old master.Some people are just born cool and I believe British writer/director Andrea Arnold is one of them. At 63, she’s been making films about young people for over 15 years and her grasp of what makes the next generation tick remains sharp as ever. In Bird, a coming-of-age tale with fantastical elements, we follow 12-year-old Bailey (Nykiya Adams) who lives with her drug-dealing father (Barry Keoghan) in a squat in rural England. Her view of herself and those around her changes when a mysterious man called Bird (Franz Rogowski) shows up unexpectedly.

Like all other films by Arnold, Bird is a vibe. Shot on handheld cameras that intimately track the characters’ every move and accompanied by a punk-rock soundtrack that underscore their hurt and disappointments, it evokes the distinct, restless sense of youth. Instead of dialogue or plot device, you learn – and feel – Bailey’s inner state most keenly through Arnold’s sensitive cinematic language. The way she would occasionally cut to a single-frame flashback in the middle of a scene further enhances the subjectivity of the lens and proves surprisingly affecting. The film is not very plot-driven and drifts a little in the second act, but the supernatural development in the last half-hour brings themes of loneliness, belonging and being different back into focus. Adams is a natural and a star, while Rogowski charms once again with the creation of yet another memorably unique character.

Swedish director Magnus von Horn’s (whose last film Sweat I loved) third feature The Girl with the Needle is a typical case of a film doing too much for its own good. In its current 115-min form, the historical drama provides a chilling, comprehensive account of the serial infanticides that happened in early 20th century Copenhagen. But I suspect a pared-down version would have made for a leaner, meaner period horror that works even better.

At its heart, the film is about Karoline (Vic Carmen Sonne), a young seamstress with an unplanned pregnancy, and Dagmar (Trine Dyrholm), a woman who offers to help Karoline find a foster family for her baby. What at first appears to be a kind act of sisterhood turns out to be something much more sinister. Von Horn’s decision to also chronicle the return of Karoline’s presumed-dead husband from war and her doomed romance with her boss detracts somewhat from the story’s central relationship, but it does give him the opportunity to explore body horror. These scenes are effectively conceived and beautifully shot by DP Michal Dymek, confronting you with the sight of the disfigured husband’s incomplete face. The textured b&w photography is overall a great asset to the film, adding a picturesque quality to the frames that feels disturbingly wrong. Both Sonne and Dyrholm are more than solid. The latter, especially, confirms she’s one of Europe’s finest actresses in a truly diabolic role which she interprets with typical poise and clear-eyed lucidity.