Rick’s Reel Recommendations | 3 Films About Identity
- Ricky Lai
- 9 hours ago
- 3 min read
RICK'S REEL RECOMMENDATIONS | COLUMN | TUAKIRI / IDENTITY
Written by Ricky Lai (he/him) | @rickthelai on IG & Letterboxd | Film Columnist
Spirit of the Beehive (Víctor Erice, 1973)
The infallible tale of Mary Shelley’s ‘Frankenstein’ has seen a well-deserved refresh in the people’s consciousness since it was resurrected last Halloween season by Guillermo Del Toro, the monster-lovin’ sweetheart. As much as I was moved by his Netflix-grade epic (how’s that for an oxymoron), it’s since been engulfed by my first encounter with Spanish filmmaker Víctor Erice’s arthouse treasure. About childhood during the Francoist dictatorship in Spain, this may indirectly be the best adaptation of ‘The Modern Prometheus’ since, well, that very first ‘Frankenstein’ in 1931 (dir. James Whale). Whale’s film actually plays a crucial role in ‘Spirit of the Beehive’, which follows a young girl named Ana whose older sister takes her to the theatre to watch ‘Frankenstein’ for the first time; feat. Boris Karloff in his signature makeup. She becomes enchanted, even if also slightly scarred, by the famous scene where a child of the same age is accidentally drowned by the lumbering but humanely innocent beast. Ana’s pre-adolescent worldview becomes inextricably linked to this movie. Her resulting curiosities, compassion, and spiritual faith are only edified by the discovery of a wounded Republican soldier taking shelter in the family’s sheepfold. Without sidestepping a burgeoning political allegory here, this is also a patient and gorgeous film set in a dry country summer, about what it’s like to encounter that first piece of fiction that rocks your world.
Holy Motors (Leos Carax, 2012)
Oh, ‘Holy Motors’, how I miss thee. Like an old friend. Not that old, mind you, and a bit out there, but an old friend nonetheless. Denis Lavant, Kylie Minogue, Édith Scob: these are my friends. Okay, I’ll stop. ‘Holy Motors’ tracks a very wealthy actor named Mr. Oscar (Lavant), who you can tell is well off, since we’re with him in the limousine between commissions. Over the course of twenty-four hours, he assumes many forms across the various suburbs of Paris. In one stroke, he is a fire-haired derelict who prances around gravestones and resides in the sewers. In another, he is a hitman in track pants pursuing his clone; perhaps a father picking up his daughter from a party. Later, an elderly terminal patient was consoled by his niece. Lavant, a former circus performer in real life, is no stranger to contorting (sometimes literally) into abstract roles. Between shifts, he barely has time to catch a breath before scuttling off again. While most of us here don’t have the luxury of commuting in a stretch vehicle nor yearning for love with the singer of ‘Love At First Sight’, we all must sympathise with the exhaustion of professional performance in our day-to-day lives. It’s hard to nail a job interview, lie to your boss, scold your kids, make the first move, keep the peace at home, and act like you’re not scared. It is never clear for what audience Mr. Oscar is performing for, and to what end. But whether he (or we) likes it or not, somebody’s watching. Action!
We’re All Going to the World’s Fair (Jane Schoenbrun, 2021)
Jane Schoenbrun’s heart-wrenching opus ‘I Saw the TV Glow’ adapted the fables of Internet creepypasta as gender dysphoria allegory. Years prior, she practiced the same idea in a rawer, chillier, and scarier film. Where, instead of the tale of ‘Candle Cove’, it approached the alternate-reality game of interactive ritual challenges. Coming of age in the era of vlogging, teenage girl Casey wants to “go to the world’s fair”. By recording proof of her pricking her finger, smearing her blood on her laptop, and staring into the strobing void of her screen’s glow, she may be able to attend. On YouTube, she documents physical and psychological changes after the ritual, as well as her interactions with another challenger over Skype (named “JLB”), who warns her (via a scene that I can remember freezing me in my seat) that “YOU ARE IN TROUBLE”. Winter breeze perfumes the walls of Casey’s house, and distant streetlamps cast shadows mistaken for human figures. Alex G conjures a horror soundtrack suited for the doomscrolling generation. This isn’t for everybody, but for the right person, it’ll be everything. If there’s a better depiction of what it’s like to grow up lonely and with Internet access, I don’t know about it yet. What’s that? ‘Unfriended: Dark Web’, you say? Ah, okay - my bad.