I’ve got two more for you, and I’m pleased to report that both films are excellent!
Maddie’s Secret (dir. John Early)
Perhaps the biggest surprise out of SpringFest, this bizarre-but-warm-and-earnest “after school special” walks a thin tonal line with aplomb and dexterity. Writer/director John Early also plays the leading lady, the titular Maddie. One would expect this gender-bending performance to be a form of drag or some sort of trans commentary, but in execution nothing could be further from the truth. I’m reminded of The Kids in the Hall, where the all-male cast frequently played women, but never did so out of mockery of femininity, but out of necessity.
Granted, Early likely had many women available to him to play Maddie, but having seen the performance, I couldn’t imagine anyone else in the role.
So what is Maddie’s titular secret? She’s bulimic. This is an issue on its own, but it’s made doubly problematic by Maddie’s recent ascension from dishwasher to on-screen talent at a prominent food influencer production house. Can she complete an inpatient hospital program before the opportunity for stardom passes her by?
It’s a sticky topic, but Early navigates it with a level of warmth and tact one wouldn’t expect from a silly production stacked with notable comedic talents (including the always hilarious Kate Berlant and Conner O’Malley). The tonal deftness comes down to Early’s clear love for his characters, as well as a reverence for the form he’s parodying. In fact, I’d say that “parody” is a little too strong a term. Perhaps “homage” will do better. In a post-film Q&A, Early cited Verhoeven’s Showgirls as a big influence in crafting an outwardly absurd film that nails its emotional beats without dipping into mockery or winking at the camera.
The Furious (dir. Kenji Tanigaki)
If I could encapsulate my review of The Furious into its purest state, it would be a sustained scream of excited incredulity, with arms raised triumphantly, that would go on uninterrupted until I run out of breath and die a happy, fulfilled moviegoer. This epic brawlfest is, as they say, why movies exist. A showcase of story economy, cinematic know-how, and brutally ornate fight choreography, The Furious features all the hallmarks of decades of Hong Kong cinema, but with that post-The Raid touch that no successful martial arts film since can exist without. Many have used with great success the mold that Gareth Evans’ duo of masterpieces created after shattering what came before, but none have felt like they moved the genre forward in quite the same way.
Not until today.
The story is simple: a little girl is kidnapped. Her mute father (Miao Xie) needs to get her back. In order to do so, he’s going to have to kill everyone who stands in his way. At the same time, an undercover cop (Joe Taslim) has his cover blown while searching for his missing wife. He, too, is going to have to kill everyone who stands in his way. These two men cross paths, discover they have a shared enemy, and decide to team up to kill everyone who stands in their way. And for the next two hours, that’s exactly what they do.
I haven’t run the numbers, but I don’t think more than five minutes ever passes without some sort of action occurring. One would expect such a breakneck pace to be punishing, but the combination of inventive choreography and compelling — if basic — character work makes every moment feel fresh and exciting. By imbuing the action with story, each fight has stakes well beyond just the immediate physical combat. By the time the film escalates to a five-man brawl in which each individual has a reason to beat the ass of at least three of the other combatants, it reaches a state of blissful cinematic delirium without ever falling off the rails. One particular flourish, which you will know when you see it, caused the festival crowd to rise to their feet for a standing (and screaming) ovation.
Director Kenji Tanigaki’s previous work as a fight/stunt coordinator (you should watch Baby Assassins) showcased his ability to move beyond strike-and-dodge fisticuffs and into a more gravity-based style of choreography. He leans even further into this style with The Furious. Much of the combat is rooted in weight manipulation (on the part of the performers, not wire work), as well as the push/pull of grappling. It’s simultaneously the most and least dance-like I’ve ever seen, pitting multiple fighting styles against one another in vicious harmony. It never feels choreographed to the point of falsity, but it still evokes a sense of twisted ballet. It even has a little bit of playfulness that is a staple of the form, only here the slapstick evokes as much wincing at the brutality and ogling of the artistry as it does laughter. It’s visual poetry, drenched in blood.
To put it simply, The Furious is one of the best action films ever made, and you’d be doing it and yourself a disservice by not seeing it with a crowd.
