The 43rd Minneapolis-St. Paul International Film Festival (MSPIFF) is currently going on from April 11-25, with over 200 films screened. Here are some quick-bite reviews of a few of the films I have watched, with more to come soon.

The Convert

Lee Tamahori’s lush period piece comes from good intentions, but falters under the weight of clichés and ho-hum filmmaking. Set within Tamahori’s native New Zealand during the first wave of British colonialism around the 1830s, the film follows lay preacher Thomas Munro (Guy Pearce) as he witnesses the brutal treatment of the local Maori tribe at the hands of its Western settlers. He develops a special connection with Rangimai, daughter of the chief of the tribe that leases its land to the British, and who’s currently fighting a war against an ultra-aggressive tribe.

Comparisons to Dances with Wolves, The Last Samurai, and The New World will be inevitable, especially with Pearce - noble as he is - fitting the “white savior” trope to a tee. Tamahori gives considerable time to the Mahori characters, but he tries to have his cake and eat it too as the central throughline sees Munro’s pleas for peace ending in an inevitable bloody battle. Even more tonally baffling is the semi-uplifting ending, totally contradicted by the historical events that would soon follow.(3/5)

Do Not Expect Too Much from the End of the World

The only thing longer than the title and runtime of Radu Jude’s newest social satire is the list of ideas it's brimming with. (Mostly) taking place over a single day, Do Not Expect Too Much from the End of the World endlessly lobs grenades toward present-day Romanian life, ranging from government corruption to a generation growing up on Andrew Tate rhetoric. All of these ideas are communicated through Angela (Ilinca Manolache), an overworked production assistant who shleps around Bucharest to audition candidates to appear in a worker safety PSA.

The 163-minute runtime doesn’t necessarily fly by, with Jude knowing no bounds with how he crafts his epic tale, always looking to break free from the preconceptions of the form. This includes multiple extended cutaways to scenes within the 1982 Romanian film Angela Goes On, harsh black-and-white photography, a 20-ish minute scene taking place within a single static shot, and a cameo from infamous bad boy director Uwe Boll about how the haters can go fuck themselves. You truly never know what’s going to happen next, or how much you should be laughing at the stark realities of these people’s lives. (3.5/5)

Wildcat

There’s a moment in Ethan Hawke’s biography of Flannery O’Connor where a character has a hallucination where Jesus gives them the choice to be reborn as white trash or an [n-word]. I didn’t have a problem with this scene on any religious or moral grounds, but it was just one of a handful where I had to ask what Hawke thought he was accomplishing. There’s an admirable quality to him not taking the traditional biopic route, but it’s not like going down this road was any more successful.

There’s a dreary beauty to 1950s New York City and rural Georgia akin to Inside Llewyn Davis, with O’Connor (played by Maya Hawke) writing increasingly dark and depressing stories that bristle with conservative society. Hawke and co-writer Shelby Gaines mix reality and fiction through Flannery’s short stories, with the cast (Laura Linney, Steve Zahn, Vincent D’Onofrio) playing multiple differing roles. Aside from the poor performances and tacky makeup/costumes, the pretentiousness in the presentation comes across as amateurish.

Still, there’s something about Hawke’s approach to the artistic process that drew me in. Granted, it was mostly due to my morbid curiosity about what batshit method he would try next. But there’s a heart and soul here in the right place, and it’s better to appreciate the strikeout if the batter went down swinging. (2.5/5)

In Our Day

South Korean auteur Hong Sang-soo has become legendary for his critical consistency while remaining as productive as ever. He’s been described as the “Korean Woody Allen,” churning out at least one to two new features per year that tend to pick up various pieces of hardware at major festivals (most likely the Berlin International Film Festival). In Our Day marks his 30th feature, with himself fulfilling the roles of writer, director, producer, cinematographer, composer, and editor.

Two seemingly unrelated tales are told across the brisk 83-minute runtime: an actress returning from abroad stays with her friend and her cat, and an aging poet is interviewed by an aspiring student. In typical Hong fashion, each scene is comprised of a single take, with the actors nonchalantly trading semi-mundane dialogue. And like a Woody Allen film, you’re either a fan of the style, or you’re not. I found myself leaning more towards the latter camp, with nearly every conversation going in one ear and out the other. I’ve often warmly embraced films “where nothing happens,” but this one is almost too lowkey for its own good. (3/5)