‘Sons of Ramses’ Review: Karim Leklou Shines In This Potent Portrait Of A Community [Cannes]

“Tori and Lokita” opens on a tight close-up on the teenage Lokita (Joely Mbundu) as she struggles with the questions delivered by an immigration officer. She has fabricated a story about how she found her brother, Tori (Pablo Schils) in an orphanage, but no one believes her.

Deadline’s studio at the 2022 Cannes Film Festival kicked off at the American Pavilion by hosting fest-goers such as Joel Edgerton of The Stranger, Jesse Eisenberg and Julianne Moore of When You Finish Saving The World, and many more. Click on the photo above to launch the gallery.

A documentary with no guardrails, “The Natural History of Destruction” (“NHD”) lurches through its 105-minute runtime with no concern for its audience’s bearings or balance. Commendable in its own way, eschewing as it does the omnipresent talking head and clip art formula so pervasive on the documentary scene, it is also devoid of context and narrative challenges.

A balloon shaped like a heart flies from the open window of a taxi. It is late at night and the woman (Leila Hatami) who this gift was bestowed upon simply couldn’t care less about the useless trinket, far more interested in comparing the quality of the accompanying chocolate boxes dispensed by a handful of men who wish to have her as a Valentine.

sickened by horrific scenes in “Crimes of the Future” reportedly walked out of the premiere at Cannes Film Festival on Monday.The film — starring Kristen Stewart, Léa Seydoux and Viggo Mortensen — is filled with scenes of child autopsies, bloody intestines, body mutations and people orgasming while licking open wounds.  The majority of the exits reportedly occurred within the first five minutes of the film but a specifically grotesque scene of Seydoux licking an open wound sent others out the door further along in the film. Both Variety and the Daily Mail reported walkouts, but Entertainment Weekly claimed there were none.New York Times journalist Kyle Buchanan tweeted from the theatre that he counted 15 people who walked out of the cinema during the screening due to “notably gross plot developments.” Despite being too much for some, the movie directed by David Cronenberg received a seven-minute standing ovation from the remaining audience members at the end.

It’s the plight of the plightless: a kid from a comfortable, upper-middle-class background wants to be some manner of artist, except that he’s (and it does seem to be a he more often than not) bereft of the experience, grit, or outsider credibility that define the role models he hopes he could one-day call influences. He ventures out into the big bad world in search of something to put a bit of hair on his creative chest, only to face the spiny question of whether this effort to get real is just class tourism, a jaunt in the gutter that one phone call to Dad could prevent.

It’s the plight of the plightless: a kid from a comfortable, upper-middle-class background wants to be some manner of artist, except that he’s (and it does seem to be a he more often than not) bereft of the experience, grit, or outsider credibility that define the role models he hopes he could one-day call influences. He ventures out into the big bad world in search of something to put a bit of hair on his creative chest, only to face the spiny question of whether this effort to get real is just class tourism, a jaunt in the gutter that one phone call to Dad could prevent.

The 2022 Cannes Film Festival is finally here, and with the event comes many premiers of extraordinary talent. Movies like “Decision To Leave” by Park Chan-Wook or documentaries like “Moonage Daydream” by Brett Morgen have premiered at the event, already sparking good reviews.

The great majority of us could only aspire, before “Moonage Daydream,” to step into the mind of David Bowie — the persona, the artist, the entity not yet proven terrestrial. Eclectic, unashamedly maximalist, and variously philosophical: all true of both the man himself and Brett Morgen’s feature-length docu-odyssey, which borrows its title from the 1976 hit, and just debuted as part of Cannes’ Midnight slate.

“Decision To Leave” deals in illusions. Is Song Seo-rae’s dress blue or green? Is she really the innocent wife she claims to be? In her living room, she sits surrounded by sapphire wallpaper, its lines suggesting the mountains near her Busan home that she so loathes — but they could easily be seen as waves, too.

David Cronenberg has unfinished business with the future, which is tricky, seeing as it already constitutes a significant slice of his past. His new film — titled “Crimes of the Future,” as in committed by rather than during that span of time — finds the master on the other side of his extended sojourn in high-minded literary adaptation, biopic quasi-prestige, and Tinseltown satire, back to playing the body-horror hits on which he made his name.

A drastic departure from his prior films “Border” and “Shelley,” Ali Abbasi’s newest film, “Holy Spider,” draws inspiration from the 2000-2001 crimes and subsequent trial of Saeed Hanaei (played here by Mehdi Bajestani), a war veteran-turned-serial killer in the Iranian city of Mashhad who murdered 16 sex workers, claiming that he was cleansing the holy city of sinners and corruption in the name of Islam.

“The Five Devils,” from French director Léa Mysius, captivates from its very first seconds. We see Adèle Exarchopoulos in a sparkling gymnast outfit with other similarly dressed girls, all watching an enormous fire in the background; when she turns around, she is crying — fire, beauty, passion and death all conveyed in one image.

“Narcissists are the ones who make it…combined with talent, it’s a plus,” Signe (Kristine Kujath Thorp) coolly observes in the opening stages of the wickedly enjoyable “Sick of Myself.” For anyone who’s watched a partner realize their dreams, a trusted colleague get promoted, or a friend become famous, and curdled with jealousy and resentment, Kristoffer Borgli has made the film for you. The filmmaker’s tart and scabrously funny (both literally and figuratively) sophomore feature is a pointed portrait of a toxic relationship and a razor-sharp evisceration of those warped by a victim mentality.

The films of French filmmaker Quentin Dupieux are at their best when they combine his penchant for ludicrous but simple what-if scenarios, with his perceptive eye for humor in everyday life and banal interactions. He would probably hate his cinema to be pinned down in this way: though he has proven that he can subscribe to straightforward storytelling with “Deerskin” (which premieres at Cannes in 2019) and “Incredible But True” (Berlinale 2022), the French director and absurdist also enjoys leaving the demands of logical plot developments behind in favor of a freer style.

It probably says something, in spite of their public comments to the contrary, about the severity of the Coen Brothers’ break-up that each of them has proceeded to make a movie that you not only can’t imagine them making together, but that is so easily classifiable — after all, “Shakespeare adaptation” and “musical bio-doc” are two of the most venerable film types of today. The only genre you could safely consign them to before now was their own; they made “Coen Brothers movies,” and everyone knew what that meant, even if they couldn’t precisely pinpoint it.

“It’s apparently fun to drown,” says sixteen-year-old Chloé, the droll, moody teen at the heart of Charlotte Le Bon’s debut feature, “Falcon Lake.” It’s a pithy line that echoes Cecilia Lisbon’s response (“Obviously, Doctor, you’ve never been a thirteen-year-old girl”) when she’s asked why she tried to harm herself in Sofia Coppola‘s “The Virgin Suicides.” Unlike Cecilia and her sisters, Chloé only plays at being dead, seeing how long she can float in the lake near her family’s cabin or lie in the road like a deer hit by a passing car.

“It’s apparently fun to drown,” says sixteen-year-old Chloé, the droll, moody teen at the heart of Charlotte Le Bon’s debut feature, “Falcon Lake.” It’s a pithy line that echoes Cecilia Lisbon’s response (“Obviously, Doctor, you’ve never been a thirteen-year-old girl”) when she’s asked why she tried to harm herself in Sofia Coppola‘s “The Virgin Suicides.” Unlike Cecilia and her sisters, Chloé only plays at being dead, seeing how long she can float in the lake near her family’s cabin or lie in the road like a deer hit by a passing car.

When cinema is your life, cinema can hurt. “Time doesn’t heal,” Tom Sturridge says about the scars that mark us in Olivier Assayas’ beguiling and fascinating new HBO limited-series version of “Irma Vep.” “Time just buries pain, but the wounds remain.” This eloquent twist on a platitude could perfectly encapsulate Assayas’ director’s statement.

French writer/director Alice Winocour was interested in the connection between the body and the mind before it was cool. Her feature debut “Augustine” (2012) told the story of a supposedly “hysterical” woman and her doctor in 19th century France, while “Disorder” (2015) centered on a soldier-turned bodyguard suffering from PTSD.

Inspired by her own late mother’s long battle with multiple sclerosis, writer/director Emily Atef’s (“Molly’s Way,” “3 Days in Quiberon”) latest work, “More Than Ever,” delivers a poignant and well-acted story. Featuring Gaspard Ulliel’s last performance, the film asks its audience to face the reality of and ponder the inevitability of death as well as the line between those who have experienced a type of suffering and those who haven’t.

During the winter in a small town in northern Finland, you might find yourself making plans to ask questions about human existence on a Saturday night. Or perhaps you’ll stay up in bed, giggling while reading a book by Sigmund Freud.

It’s one of modern life’s most beguiling paradoxes that social media influencers are, of course, the scum of the earth, and yet the pop culture skewering them always plays so uncharitably that a viewer feels compelled to defend the indefensible. Ruben Östlund comes out swinging against Instagrammers in the first third of his new film “Triangle of Sadness,” which joins a pair of logged-on models after a casting-call prologue introducing us to the chiseled Carl (Harris Dickinson, cementing his place in the next generation of movie stars).

“When you want to film a fire, you need to be in the place where the first flame is produced.” So says the disembodied voice of Patricio Guzmán as he recalls a piece of advice received early in his filmmaking career by his mentor, French multimedia artist Chris Marker. In this case, the fire is the Estallido Social, a series of colossal protests and riots that started in the capital city of Santiago and rapidly spread across Chile at the end of 2019.

In 2017, Swedish-Egyptian director Tarek Saleh’s breakthrough film “The Nile Hilton Incident” was the subject of much controversy and was ultimately banned in Egypt due to its in-depth portrayal of police corruption in modern-day Egypt. Five years later, Saleh is back with “Boy From Heaven” (“Walad Min Al Janna“), a transfixing feature tackling the harsh realities that occur in the country, this time exploring the complicated and corrupt relationship between religion and politics.

Arnaud Desplechin’s latest film superficially resembles some of his most beloved and best work, family dramas featuring very colorful, neurotic, sometimes impulsive characters by turn extremely sincere and sardonic, loquacious and secretive — films such as “My Sex Life… or How I Got Into an Argument” (1996) and “A Winter’s Tale” (2008). But unlike them, “Brother and Sister” is also a puzzle, even if the director does not make it easy for us to solve it.

With his classic 1990s heartthrob looks, it was only a matter of time before Paul Mescal found his way into a film set in that era. Like “Normal People,” the series that catapulted the young Irish actor to fame, Charlotte Wells’ “Aftersun” has him wearing shorts, but this time with a belt and the polo shirt tucked in — a detail like many others in the film that should send a wave of recognition through audience members who grew up then.

As if unleashing all the pent-up narrative impulses tamped down for the hard-bitten minimalism of “Mad Max: Fury Road,” Australia’s proudest son George Miller returns to Cannes’ out-of-Competition section with a sumptuous banquet of storytelling in service of storytelling. “Three Thousand Years of Longing” compresses eons of heartbreak, happenstance, and hope into a hotel room tête-à-tête that then re-blooms to the size of the universe, a parable both titanic and intimate in scale as it negotiates one woman’s complacent solitude against the welfare of mythologies dating back to the cradle of civilization.

2022 Billboard Music Awards wrapped on Sunday evening, and Tuesday marked the opening day of the Cannes Film Festival. Throughout the convention area, many of your favorite celebrities were in attendance for the screenings and festivities.

A silver spoon clunks loudly inside a bowl of beef broth. The meal — well, barely a meal — is served to Empress Elisabeth of Austria (Vicky Krieps) twice a day, her diet a strict combination of insipid soup and wafer-thin slices of lemon.

Three Thousand Years of Longing” at the Cannes Festival on Friday.Wearing only panties drenched with blood-red paint, the screaming woman had the Ukrainian flag sprayed across her chest with the words “Stop raping us.” The word “scum” was also written on her lower back. Video posted to Twitter shows security personnel covering up the woman and escorting her off the carpet.

“Bait,” British filmmaker Mark Jenkin’s breakout feature, could well be considered a horror movie. Set in a quaint little fishing enclave off the Cornish coast, where the ship decks are rickety and the townhouses’ whitewash ever-peeling, the knotty fear of loss is ever-present: of history, of possession, of tradition, of heritage, of liberty.

Anne Hathaway is channeling one of her most iconic characters. On Thursday, the 39-year-old actress stepped out for a screening of her new flick, , at the 2022 Cannes Film Festival, and gave off serious Mia Thermopolis vibes.Hathaway stunned on the red carpet in a custom, white Giorgio Armani Privé gown that included a train and oversized bow.

Algerian actor Ahmed Benaissa died today following a lengthy illness and just hours before his film Sons of Ramses is scheduled for a Critics’ Week screening at the Cannes Film Festival. He was 78.

Naman Ramachandran Revered Algerian actor Ahmed Benaissa died on Friday after a long illness, according to the Algerian Ministry of Culture. He was 78.Benaissa’s latest film, Clement Cogitore’s “Sons of Ramses,” (“Goutte d’Or”) in which he had a key role, playing Ramses’s (Karim Leklou) father, is premiering at Cannes on Friday, as a special screening in the Critics’ Week strand of the festival.“I am deeply saddened at the sudden passing of Ahmed Benaissa,” Cogitore said. “The film would not exist without him and words can’t express our sorrow at premiering the film in Cannes today.”“Sons Of Ramses” is produced by Jean-Christophe Reymond for Kazak Productions.

There’s always at least one. Just a few nights deep into this year’s Cannes Film Festival, the competition has thrown up its first wild, batshit, and occasionally beautiful curiosity.