His Three Daughters review: Savour this exquisite elegy to death and sisterhood, writes BRIAN VINER
His Three Daughters (15, 104 min.)
Pronunciation: Beautifully observed
While watching the new Netflix release His Three Daughters, I realized that death plays an increasingly larger role in cinematic stories than anything else, including love.
From the earliest films, death has been a major theme on the silver screen, although it usually occurs for dramatic reasons and in a sudden, violent manner.
It is understandable that the kind of death that most of us experience at least once in our lives, such as the slow passing of a parent or friend, is far less often dramatized.
But when done right, it can be more moving and thought-provoking than almost anything.
That’s why Pedro Almodovar’s new film, The Room Next Door, won the top prize at the Venice Film Festival earlier this month. It’s a compelling study, superbly acted by Tilda Swinton and Julianne Moore, of the ethics and conventions surrounding a terminally ill person’s right to choose how and when to die.
Natasha Lyone as Rachel, Elizabeth Olsen as Christina (center) and Carrie Koon as Katie in His Three Daughters
Carrie Koon plays Katie, the eldest daughter who is bossy, fragile and tense
His Three Daughters offers a different, but no less compelling, take on the subject of death. A man, of whom we see very little, receives terminal care in his New York City apartment.
The source of the drama is the relationship between the three women who wait for him to die: his daughters Katie (Carrie Coon), Christina (Elizabeth Olsen) and Rachel (Natasha Lyonne).
Katie, the eldest, is bossy, fragile, tense. Judging from her phone calls home, she’s as tense as a mother. Even though she lives elsewhere in New York, she wasn’t a particularly attentive daughter. But now, with her father on his deathbed, she tries to take charge, struggling to write his obituary and a do-not-resuscitate form that needs to be signed, but she exudes little warmth or compassion.
The middle daughter, Christina, has flown in from far away and so at least has an excuse for seeing so little of the old man. She has a young child and a life that seems almost perfect to the outside world, although such lives never are, neither in the movies nor anywhere else.
The youngest, Rachel, is addicted to pot and her throaty voice is either that of a chain smoker or she’s preparing for a Marge Simpson sound-alike contest. Katie, with whom she repeatedly clashes, thinks she’s hopelessly irresponsible. But gradually we realize that she’s the only one properly grieving their father’s impending death, and indeed the one who cared for him devotedly, shared his apartment, and will inherit it when he’s gone.
Within this brotherly dynamic, there are many more nuances and a few twists that I won’t share. Not that it would be spoiling anything to do so, because the dialogue and performances are meant to be savored. His Three Daughters is superbly acted (particularly by Olsen, who somehow turns the least interesting role into the most watchable) and cleverly, wittily written by writer-director Azazel Jacobs (whose 2017 film The Lovers was also a gem about the quicksand of familial relationships).
Elizabeth Olsen plays the middle daughter Christina who has flown in from far away and therefore has an excuse not to visit her ailing father
The youngest daughter Rachel, played by Natasha Lyonee, is a chain smoker, but is the only child who devotedly cared for their father. She will inherit the apartment when he dies.
Whether Jacobs weaved this story from personal experience or simply his keen observation of other people, I don’t know. Either way, he writes beautifully for women. I watched it with my wife, who laughed out loud at an exchange between Rachel and Christina, who, as the former suggests, will probably “hatch” more children.
Christina panics at this description of the birth. ‘Nothing pops,’ she says indignantly. ‘Nothing pops.’
His Three Daughters is on Netflix.
The Substance (18, 140 min)
Verdict: Gruesome horror satire
There’s plenty of popping in The Substance. Popping is perhaps the least of it, along with snapping, bursting, oozing and squashing, in a grotesque body-horror satire that’s not for the squeamish, but perhaps for the ticklish, if you can find the humor in it.
Demi Moore gives a bold and accomplished performance as Elisabeth Sparkle, a once-powerful Hollywood star who is now limited to hosting a fitness show on TV, only to find herself losing her role because her obnoxious boss (Dennis Quaid) is looking for someone younger.
So she does what anyone would do in the same circumstances; she signs up for a top-secret drug—the titular “substance”—that promises to reproduce her in younger form in seven-day cycles. And it works. She gets a precious week as her youthful self (played by Margaret Qualley) before she reverts to her unwanted 50-year-old self.
Director-writer Coralie Fargeat has a blast with this scene, especially the one where Sparkle Mark I, on the floor of her bathroom, gives birth to Sparkle Mark II, known as Sue, who grows into a major TV star.
Demi Moore delivers a bold, career-best performance as Elisabeth Sparkle, a once-powerful Hollywood star who is reduced to hosting a TV fitness show
Dennis Quaid stars as Harvey in The Substance, now in theaters
But despite all the dystopian horror, Oscar Wilde would have recognized this story. It is reminiscent of The Picture Of Dorian Gray, but of course has a special meaning in today’s society that is obsessed with appearance.
As for Moore, it’s always particularly moving in movies to see (with respect) a has-been playing a has-been. She does a great job.
The Substance is in theaters now.
Everyone is standing up for a fascinating French trial
The Goldman Case (12A, 115 min.)
The winner of the Palme d’Or at last year’s Cannes Film Festival was Anatomy Of A Fall, a brilliant, largely French-language whodunnit that grippingly explored the details of a troubled marriage in a courtroom setting.
Well, I wouldn’t compare French courtroom dramas to London buses, because we didn’t know we were waiting for them. But here’s another one, and it’s also very good.
The Goldman Case tells the true story of Pierre Goldman (Arieh Worthalter), a left-wing Jewish rebel who was convicted of committing multiple armed robberies.
Two women died during one of the robberies and in 1974 he was sentenced to life in prison. But there were doubts about the integrity of the conviction and the taint of anti-Semitism.
Two years later, a second, much-discussed trial took place, in which Goldman was enthusiastically supported by, among others, the philosopher Jean-Paul Sartre and the actress Simone Signoret.
The Goldman Case tells the true story of Pierre Goldman, played by Arieh Worthalter (pictured)
Unlike Anatomy Of A Fall, Cedric Kahn’s film takes place almost entirely in a courtroom and largely consists of French people shouting at each other.
But the film is shot in a grainy documentary style and that’s all the better for it, as it builds to a climax that is truly spellbinding.
The Goldman Case is now in theaters.