BITTER CHRISTMAS - MIFF 2026

 

As per the MIFF guide: “It’s 2004, and the wells of inspiration are drying up for movie director Elsa. Worse still, despite her firefighter/stripper boyfriend’s coddling, she’s as burdened by migraines as she is with her friends’ troubles. But all of this is merely a story; a creation of filmmaker Raúl, Elsa is the protagonist of the film that he’s struggling to complete in 2026, much to the dismay of his supportive partner, Santi. That spark suddenly returns when Raúl’s assistant Mónica takes leave to help a friend who has just lost a child, a tragedy that becomes a plot point in his own script. Perhaps this new inspiration will give Raúl insights into his own life and relationships; but how far is too far when an artist continually cribs from the experiences of others?”

Anybody who has read this blog over the years would know that I am an Almodovar nut. He just makes films that I adore and I cannot remember the last time I disliked one. He creates cinema candy I can't help but devour, and “Bitter Christmas” continues this long running trend. His latest almost plays out like a sequel to his 2019 film “Pain and Glory”, as it deals with a writer/director (and obvious cinematic avatar for Almodovar himself) who is struggling to write a script for his new film, his first in five years. The majority of “Bitter Christmas” is actually a film-within-a-film, as it is the script Raúl is currently writing, and it changes as Raúl makes alterations to the script with seemingly important characters suddenly disappearing, whilst brand new ones appear when inspiration strikes Raúl. The confusing part about this, especially in the context of this review, is that the project Raúl is writing is also titled “Bitter Christmas”, so I will have to differentiate between when I am talking about the Almodovar film [A] as opposed to the film-within-a-film [FWF].

The main crux of the drama in “Bitter Christmas”[A] is that it deals with the ethics of the screenwriting art and whether or not everything in real life is fair game to be used as inspiration, despite who it may hurt in the process. In other words, does the author have any responsibility towards the person whose real life experience has become the inspiration for a part of their fictional story? This dilemma comes up late in the film, when Raúl alters the finale of his script for “Bitter Christmas” [FWF] to include a new character who attempts suicide after losing her child in a car accident whilst she was driving. However the inspiration for this late addition came from his former assistant, Mónica, whose partner just attempted suicide after the death of her son from brain cancer. Mónica is absolutely furious that Raúl would be so insensitive to include such a personal and tragic detail of her life, for his script, particularly while the pain is still so fresh and raw. However, Raúl doesn't see the problem, citing that his story is “fictional” and that the child in his story dies in a completely different way, but Mónica is having none of it, their friendship fractured forever. As she parts, she calls Raúl an emotional vampire, sucking all the tragedy and experiences from people's lives just to use for the basis of his scripts. Raúl still cannot see that he has done anything wrong, but what is interesting about this is that the main character of “Bitter Christmas”[FWF], Elsa, is also a writer/director who loses a very close friendship over her decision to use the very raw and personal story of her friend's marriage break-up as inspiration for her own comeback film. She too uses the same argument of it being a fictional tale, as if that washes all responsibility from her. The thing is Raúl writes this part of the story “before” he has his falling out with Mónica, so he is clearly aware of what he is doing and of his vampiric quality before he is actually accused of it, so he is on shaky ground when he claims he is innocent of such a thing.

As I mentioned earlier, the majority of “Bitter Christmas”[A] is actually a visual representation of the script Raúl is writing and changes regularly as he rewrites elements of his story. At times this can cause a jarring effect, particularly when it comes to the character of Beau, who has initially been set up as a main character within “Bitter Christmas”[FWF] who then ultimately disappears from it, the more the story continues. This is also true of the very late introduction of Natalia, who then turns out to be the most important character of “Bitter Christmas”[FWF], but is nowhere to be seen in the early sections of the script with her name only mentioned once, before she shows up. While it feels a little odd, it is also the part of the point of “Bitter Christmas”[A], which is really an examination of the screenwriting process and how ideas and stories are formed through inspiration and life. While it may feel like Almodovar is making a misstep in the story presentation of the film-within-a-film, it is not actually the case, as after Mónica reads Raúl's finished script for “Bitter Christmas”[FWF], she highlights all the same issues I had with it up until that point (main character disappearing, new character appearing far too late into the story), so Almodovar himself clearly knows what he is doing here.

This is obviously quite a personal picture from Pedro Almodovar, and it makes you wonder just how many friendships he may have lost or damaged throughout his career, all under the guise of inspiration, and whether or not he now feels regret for this later in his life. Almodovar also has a bit of fun at his own expense when Mónica complains to Raúl that he is using the death of his mother in yet another film (Almodovar commented on his own mother's death in “Pain and Glory”), and that she feels that the “Bitter Christmas”[FWF] script would be perfect for a short hour length film for Netflix who want him, which is something that also happened in real life to Almodovar but which he turned down. Mónica also makes the stinging comment that Raúl is now late in his career and that he has already made all of his best works, all that is left from him are minor works, which makes you wonder if this is how Pedro Almodovar feels about his own career at the moment which, in fairness, is probably true.It is no surprise to see another impressive female performance in an Almodovar film, and Barbara Lennie gives a wonderful multi-faceted performance as Elsa, the former writer/director, current advertising executive in the film-within-a-film. She goes through quite a number of emotions from feeling stuck in a relationship she no longer wants to be a part of, to caring for friends who are going through issues in their lives, to intense guilt over being absent during her mother's passing, to being revitalised and full of energy when she rediscovers her passion for film making. The constant through-line throughout Lennie's performance is the heart she gives Elsa; she is a character who wears her feelings on her sleeve. What is interesting though because she is a fictional character being written and re-written, her character arc isn't really a natural one. Leonardo Sbaraglia plays Raúl, the writer/director of “Bitter Christmas”[FWF], and while his performance is fine, it pales in comparison to Antonio Banderas' stunning turn in “Pain and Glory”, as the two characters are essentially the same guy (although he is named Salvador in “Pain and Glory”). He just lacks the natural charisma of Banderas, and Sbaraglia's rendition of the character comes across as more whiny and self serving, with a less humorous outlook on life. One performance that I liked a lot was Patrick Criado who plays Beau, Elsa's much younger firefighter/stripper boyfriend. What could have just been the token hot guy in the film, Criado is able to turn Beau into a fully rounded character, and it is a shame as he is slowly disappears from the film. The striptease scene he performs is a standout, and I am sure something the ladies will enjoy. I also have to mention Aitana Sanchez-Gijon who is excellent, and at times frightening, as Mónica, Raúl's former assistant, and it was so nice to see Rossy De Palma appear in a small role.

As you would expect, “Bitter Christmas”[A] looks like an Almodovar film through and through, bursting with colour and his usual stylised décor. What is surprising though is that he is working with a different cinematographer here, Pau Esteve Birba, and this is the first film they have collaborated on, but Birba seems to have had no problem emulating that famous Almodovar look. For once though, I found Alberto Iglesia's score to be a little underwhelming, where it is only memorable in two spots, the opening credits and towards the end when Raúl finally catches an idea he loves, firing up his creative juices once more, and I think Iglesia's score accurately reflects that moment perfectly. Speaking of the ending, I personally thought it was great, but from the audible groan heard throughout the cinema when the credits began, I think it obviously doesn't work for everyone and I could see people finding it a little anticlimactic. You probably need to expect going into this, that you will also not get a satisfactory ending to the film-within-a-film, which can be off-putting after investing so much time into it.

Overall, “Bitter Christmas”[A] is another Almodovar gem, although I would still regard it as a minor film in his stunning career. Like a lot of his late-period work, it has more than a hint of melancholy attached to it, as it looks at the screenwriting process, the ethics of the art, in particular when it comes to real life inspiration. The film looks amazing (loved the volcanic beaches with its black sand) and it is ably performed by it's entire cast. It wont be for everyone, but I liked it a whole lot.

3.5 Stars.

 

 

THE FOX - MIFF 2026

 

As per the MIFF guide: “Affable oaf Nick cruises through life courtesy of his rich daddy’s money, and his fiancée Kori has just accepted his marriage proposal. But when he discovers she’s been cheating on him – with the husband of her best friend! – everything unravels. While out hunting one day, he catches a talking fox, who tells him there’s a magical pit in the forest that can fix all of his problems. Nick hatches a plan … but they don’t call foxes tricksters for nothing.”

About a month or so ago, I sat down at my regular arthouse cinema to watch who-knows-what and before the film I was hit with a wild teaser trailer that had a whole lot of people swearing, crazy sex scenes, and a talking fox and magpie. It was absolutely incredible because it did not give you any indication of what the film was about, but gave a sense of the potential fun within it. It made me laugh so hard, but I also thought this could turn out to be the dumbest film alive. When I got home after my session, I found the trailer on the internet and sent it to my brother, who had the same reaction as myself. Either way, the teaser trailer was unforgettable and certainly did it's job at grabbing my attention, because when I saw that “The Fox” was playing at MIFF there was no way in hell I was going to miss it.

I said this last year in my review for “One More Shot”, another excellent recent Australian comedy (that sadly seems to have not found the audience it deserves), it is rare for me to see many comedies at MIFF, mainly because it is not my genre of choice, and also, these days good ones are few and far between. The type of comedies I like are really dark, black comedies, or those at the other end of the spectrum, which are absolutely silly to the point of the absurd, which is where I would rate “The Fox”. Director Dario Russo explained during his introduction to the film that it is essentially a cautionary tale about what can happen if you listen to talking foxes, which I think gives you an indication of how silly the film itself is. There is no moral to be found at the end of the tale, it is just a good old fashioned Aussie comedy; its rude, crude, nude......and more than a little politically incorrect at times too. “The Fox” is a cracking film filled to the brim with laughs and absurdity. It also comes with a kind-of plot secret that isn't revealed until late in the film, so I have to tread carefully as I review this so I do not ruin it, because the moment of reveal is side splittingly funny!

When further discussing his film in earnest during the post screening Q&A, Russo explained that the germ of the idea came to him because he is a big fan of Japanese and Korean folklore, and in those traditions they have a number of stories involving talking foxes delivering lore, warnings and cautionary tales within them. Growing up in a part of Adelaide inundated with a huge fox population, he started wondering why our foxes don't talk, and if an Aussie fox did talk, would it have anything worthwhile to say?, and that is how “The Fox” all began. One element of “The Fox” that I loved that Russo was determined to include was to have the humans communicate with the animals like it was normal, not questioning that they are talking to a magpie or a “magic” fox. For me, some of the funniest scenes in “The Fox” are when the magpie is trying to blackmail the human characters for some fresh chicken, because he sees and hears everything. There is also a moment in a car when Nick and Diana reflect on what they have just done, realising they followed the advice of a fox, that I found hilarious!

Dario Russo has been gifted the most sublime cast possible for “The Fox”; seriously it is almost like the most perfect ensemble ever, and literally everyone is outstanding in their individual roles, but as a group, they come across totally like regular folks from an old country town, where the most exciting part of the day is heading down to the local pub for a beer and a schnitzel dinner. Have a look at this cast: Jai Courtney and Emily Browning star as Nick and Kori, and they are ably assisted in smaller roles by Damon Herriman, Claudia Doumit, Frankie J. Holden, Miranda Otto, Kim Gyngell and, if you can believe it, Zlato Buric, who plays Kori's father. The absolute cherry on top though has to be the voice work of Olivia Colman, who plays the fox, and Sam Neill, who steals the movie as the foul mouthed magpie; he is just outstanding and so, so funny! Russo told a bittersweet story about Neill and the origin of his magpie voice, where apparently he said he couldn't do a magpie, but he could do a crow, and then based it on a real life crow he knew that he nicknamed “The Disappointed Orgasm”, because his craw sounded just like that. In all seriousness, the magpie is the funniest part of “The Fox”, and I really wished there was more of him in it, but seeing a sarcastic bird, dropping f-bombs constantly, while threatening the humans of the town that he will give up their secrets if they don't give him some “fresh” chicken......well, it's bloody hilarious!! Also to get Olivia Colman to voice the fox must have been a such a coup; like everyone in the film, she is perfect. Colman, as the fox, even narrates the film explaining how every animal has their own peculiar interests; cats are torturers, dogs are degenerates, frogs are sex pests (ha!), magpies stick their noses into other people's business, but it is humans that have the strangest interest of all, which is to make themselves unhappy and then pretend that they have no say in their unhappiness by saying inane things like “what can you do?”, “shit happens”, or the dreaded “it is what it is” (which you hear the characters amusingly say regularly through the film).

When it comes to the animals, thankfully Russo went down the route of using animatronics versus CGI, although there is minor computer enhancement when the animals have to walk. It was a great decision because even though they are obviously puppets, it is so much fun seeing the other actors interacting with them; it is hard to explain but it just adds that little bit extra to them by being organic, rather than put into the film later at another stage. It just gives them character. Another aspect of “The Fox” that Russo gets totally right is its running time, with the film only just over ninety minutes, which is the perfect length for a comedy. It keeps the laughs fresh without stretching an idea longer than it needs to be to the point that it loses its edge, which is a problem with so many comedies these days. And this one, is as Aussie as it gets, which is shown via the constant use of the national vernacular.......or in other words, they say the word “fuck” a whole lot of the time.......but in such a way that it is very, very funny, and so Australian!

Other than that, there really isn't too much I can say about “The Fox” with out ruining it's surprises, so I will just say that writer / director Dario Russo has done a stellar job at putting together his film (Russo also edited the film, and did it's score), and has been blessed with a stellar cast, who are all excellent including the late, great Sam Neill who steals the film as the foul mouthed magpie. Despite comedy, it also heads down a few other genres but to reveal which would ruin the surprise. Honestly folks, “The Fox” is an outstanding Aussie comedy that I hope you rush out to see, if you get a chance, because it deserves a large audience. If it does not find that audience, well, “it is what it is”.

3.5 Stars.

 

MINOTAUR - MIFF 2026

 

As per the MIFF guide: “In the immediate wake of his nation’s invasion of Ukraine, wealthy company CEO Gleb is directed to provide cannon fodder for Russia’s war machine. As he is ‘volunteering’ men to be drafted from within his employee pool, he learns that his wife Galina is having an affair with a handsome young artist. This intersection of Gleb’s professional and private crises becomes a trigger point for a shocking showdown.”

My most anticipated film at this year's MIFF is none other than Andrei Zvyagintsev's “Minotaur” which is his first film in almost a decade. You may be wondering why Asghar Farhadi's “Parallel Tales” wasn't my most anticipated film at MIFF when it was number one on my list for the entire year, a list where “Minotaur” failed to even get a mention. The simple reason is because I was under the (incorrect) assumption that Zvyagintsev still hadn't even begun filming “Minotaur” when I wrote that list, thus expected it to be a 2027 release, otherwise it definitely would have taken the top spot from Farhadi's film. Imagine my surprise and excitement when “Minotaur” was announced as part of the Cannes Film Festival, and that we were now getting a new Zvyagintsev film a year earlier than I expected. A lot has changed in Andrei Zvyagintsev's life since the release of his previous film, “Loveless”, in 2017. Most importantly Zvyagintsev very nearly died during the Covid pandemic and then further suffered the debilitating effects from long Covid, making him unable to work. He also now lives in exile in France due to his strong anti-war stance and general opposition of Putin. What has not changed though is his brilliant level of film making and the fact that he is still one of the bravest directors working throughout the world today. His latest film, “Minotaur”, is actually a remake of Claude Chabrol's 1969 classic “La Femme Infidele” (The Unfaithful Wife), with the story re-purposed to today's Russia, complete with a scathing attack against the current war that is taking place against Ukraine.

I actually happened to see “La Femme Infidele” and “Minotaur” within twenty four hours of each other, and found the experience to be more than a little odd, and I am not sure it was for the better of “Minotaur”, as I was constantly comparing it to the original French film. While it was good to be so familiar with the details and story beats of the original film, I think some distance from it would have been beneficial in seeing “Minotaur” as its own thing. I admit I was actually surprised at how faithful a remake “Minotaur” turned out to be, as I was expecting Zvyagintsev to use the original Chabrol piece as a jumping off point and then for him to go his own way with the story, tackling his own themes. Instead, Zvyagintsev is totally faithful to “La Femme Infidele” with all of the main beats of the story being recreated in this new film, although he has changed the ending to fit the Russia of today.

With “Minotaur” running forty five minutes longer than “La Femme Infidele”, you may think that a lot has been added to this new version but really the main addition is Andrei Zvyagintsev's angry condemnation of the current war taking place, and in particular how it is the ordinary, every day folks that are being chewed up by the war machine in progress. The biggest plot extension of “Minotaur” is that Gleb is forced (by the Mayor) to choose fourteen members of his staff to be drafted for the war. This is actually where the title of the film comes from, as it is a dark political metaphor for the war machine in Russia, and relates to the Greek myth where Athens was forced to regularly sacrifice fourteen young people to the monster within the labyrinth as retribution for the death of King Minos's son. This is mirrored in the film by Gleb's dilemma of who to give up from his workforce to essentially be killed in a pointless war. This is also the reason for Gleb's heightened stress throughout the film, as he needs to work out who to choose, and also not let it disrupt his workflow or business. Gleb ultimately comes up with a diabolical plan to hire brand new staff (for work his company does not have), just so he has people for his draft quota. These poor unsuspecting men believe they have found employment, but instead they are about to be shipped off to their deaths. Gleb also adds another cruel wrinkle to his solution by including the name of his security manager, who was the man he got to investigate and confirm his wife's infidelity, as a way of tying up loose ends. Andrei Zvyagintsev is clearly saying that in the corrupt Russia of today, life is cheap, and that the men in power are willing to do some despicable things so they themselves are not affected by the war. It is certainly something when a main character in a film can kill a person in cold blood, and it is still not the most reprehensible thing he does in that film. This part of the story is front and centre of “Minotaur” so it is impossible to miss, but Andrei Zvyagintsev also shows the reality of this war in a number of smaller ways throughout his film. Visible images of anti-war graffiti on buildings, soldiers and amputees walking the streets, and trains transporting tanks passing by, are just a few examples of this.

The other key difference between “Minotaur” and “La Femme Infidele” is that in the Russian version none of the characters are happy. In fact, I think the only time you see anyone smile is during the night Gleb, Galina and a group of their friends go to a club, in an attempt to unwind. However post-party, Galina declares that even this moment of “fun” was nothing but a facade; a way for people to pretend they are not affected by the world they are currently living in. While there is never confirmation either way, in “La Femme Infidele” you never know if the wife strays because she is unhappy or if she is just bored. In “Minotaur” there is no doubt that it is because Galina is miserable in life, and looking for any sort of distraction from it or the slimmest hint of potential happiness. There is a scene towards the end of the film where Galina delivers a line of dialogue that may be the most important of the entire film: “I want to live, not endure, live.”

It is so good having Andrei Zvyagintsev healthy and active in cinema once more, and a relief that he did not lose his touch while dormant for close to a decade. “Minotaur” looks and feels exactly like an Andrei Zvyagintsev movie; it is slow paced, impeccably shot and acted, and very, very politically angry. Zvyagintsev has always been great at tackling tough subject matter but doing it in a digestible format for the audience, so the message never overpowers the entertainment of the film. He once again reunites with cinematographer Mikhail Krichman, and the pair continue using the visual style they have developed and been successful with over the past few films. Working with a cool colour palette , slow deliberate camera moves and Zvyagintsev's exquisite camera placement, “Minotaur” is a stunning film to look at, like you would expect, with Latvia filling in here for Russia.

Andrei Zvyagintsev also has a fantastic knack of eliciting brilliant female performances in all his films, even in the most minor roles, with Iris Lebedeva continuing that trend by giving a heartbreaking performance as Galina, a wife and mother, deeply unhappy in the world she is stuck in. What I love about Lebedeva's performance is that she exhibits real emotions, confronting her daily life whilst everyone else around her tries to ignore it, and pretend that none of it is affecting them. However by doing this, it opens herself up to so much more pain, but at least she is being true to herself and her situation. Conversely, I was not a fan of Gleb, the husband, at all and through Dmitriy Mazurov's performance, he comes across as too masculine or headstrong and rather unsympathetic compared to the same character in the Chabrol film. Because of this, his motivation for confronting his wife's lover feels totally different, as in “La Femme Infidele” it is to try and understand why his wife would stray, while in “Minotaur” it feels like it is just because he doesn't like other people playing with his toys, and he does treat his wife like an object often, rather than anything close to an equal.

Overall, I am so happy to have finally seen a new film from Andrei Zvyagintsev, as he is still one of the best film makers working today. His latest, “Minotaur” is a very interesting remake of Claude Chabrol's “La Femme Infidele” that is very faithful to it's source, complete with a new ending that highlights the absolute corruption of today's Russia. “Minotaur” is exactly what you would expect from a Zvyagintsev film; it is slow, cold, very angry but above all else, has been stunningly put together. As good as the film is though, I would actually probably rate it the weakest of Zvyagintsev's career so far, but coming from anyone else, it would likely be their best; that is how high a bar he has set for himself. I look forward to re-watching “Minotaur” in the near future.

3.5 Stars.