The Dog Stars (15, 118min)
Rating: 3 stars
Sir Ridley Scott, enviably powerful at 88, has now directed five films this decade. And thankfully, there’s no sign that The Dog Stars is his swan song.
It takes place in 2035, after human civilization has been almost completely wiped out by a flu pandemic follows Hig (Jacob Elordi), an impeccably stubbly former mechanic and pilot, and his beloved Belgian Malinois Jasper. A whistle for all dog lovers to be on alert immediately until Jasper’s fate is resolved.
Man and dog have built a sustainable existence in a deserted land Colorado airport with grumpy ex-marine Bangley (Josh Brolin), who insists they are living the American Dream: “Food, power, water, weapons and a perimeter we can defend.” Although their supply is threatened by ‘reapers’: marauding tribes of lithe, extravagantly tattooed, machete-wielding scavengers who resemble an unusually violent contemporary dance troupe.
But the optimistic Hig yearns for more. He sets off in his rickety little Cessna in search of human connection, but encounters a series of rather underdeveloped characters: a potential love interest (Margaret Qualley); her suspect ‘Pops’ (Guy Pearce); a Mennonite community led by Benedict Wong; And Allison Janney‘s wonderfully creepy former flight attendant, who feels like she’s flown out of a completely different movie.
Jacob Elordi with his canine co-star in a scene from their new movie The Dog Stars
An adaptation of Peter Heller’s 2012 novel, The Dog Stars doesn’t set out to redefine the busy end-of-the-world genre. Still, there’s a warming, “celebrate the simple things” quality to it: the timeless pleasures of a morning cup of coffee, a cigarette, playing fetch with your dog, and living in a world where people still know how to fix things.
Then there’s the joy of basking in the star power of Jacob Elordi. The impossibly handsome Saltburn breakout delivers a soulful performance that should elevate him even higher in the rankings of leading men of the next generation – although some admirers of his work in Wuthering Heights may find him disappointingly overdressed.
For two-thirds of its running time, this is an enjoyable, slightly melancholic post-apocalyptic hang-out film.
Then Scott suddenly steps on the accelerator, unleashing some tense, thunderous and bloodthirsty set pieces that remind you that this is the man who made Alien, Gladiator and Black Hawk Down. It’s certainly a small price compared to that. But when The Dog Stars takes flight, helped immensely by Erik Messerschmidt’s compelling aerial cinematography, it still soars.
Bitter Christmas (15, 111min)
Rating: Three stars
Bitter Christmas (the title refers, among other things, to a classic Mexican break-up song) is a similar late-career gift from an old master.
And although director Pedro Almodovar (All About My Mother, Volver) has called it “the riskiest film I’ve ever made,” fans of the 76-year-old Spanish author will find themselves in familiar, beautifully cinematic territory.
It’s a typically lush melodrama, flickering between two time periods.
In 2026, aging filmmaker Raul (Leonardo Sbaraglia, sporting a deliberately Almodovarian lock of silver hair) struggles to finish a script – until he uses a personal tragedy in the life of Monica (Aitana Sanchez-Gijon), his faithful, long-suffering PA, as an ending.
The story he writes is set at Christmas 2004 and centers on Elsa (Barbara Lennie), an advertising director who suffers from migraines and panic attacks amid unresolved grief over the death of her mother.
Since this is an Almodovar film, Elsa has a handsome boyfriend, Bonifacio (Patrick Criado), who is a firefighter by day and a stripper by night.
She is also surrounded by a colorful group of glamorous, highly neurotic women – all on the verge of a nervous breakdown.
Sex, drugs, death and emotional drama with a capital D: this is unmistakably Almodovar, if the volcanic palette of tomato red and bright pink didn’t already give it away.
What sets Bitter Christmas apart, however, is that an accomplished filmmaker has made a film about a filmmaker… making a film about a filmmaker making a film. Phew.
And if that artistic hall of mirrors sounds off-putting, rest assured, Almodovar isn’t flattering himself. He calls it “the film where I’ve been cruelest to myself” and turns the lens on his own vampiric creativity.
Stick with this one. The ending takes a while, but it’s brilliant. All of the films discussed here are now in theaters.
