There’s no small measure of irony in the fact that the American distributor of Richard Linklater’s Nouvelle Vague is none other than Netflix. The streaming behemoth has, after all, been tagged as the archenemy of exactly the sort of fervent cinephilia that Linklater’s film both celebrates and embodies as it painstakingly recreates the making of Jean-Luc Godard’s À bout de souffle, released in English as Breathless, the film that jumpstarted the French New Wave in 1960 and made icons of its director, its stars, and its style. The truth is more complicated, of course: Netflix has provided an outlet for plenty of films that may otherwise have languished in distribution limbo. The catch, naturally, is that those films usually garner only a token theatrical release before being shelved in Netflix’s vast library of content and potentially lost in the algorithmic crowd.

I regret to inform you, then, that you have already missed your opportunity to see Nouvelle Vague on the big screen. The Hollywood Theatre has been playing the film for the last couple of weeks, and I was fortunate enough to catch one of its few 35mm showings. Now it’s available through the app, so if you haven’t seen Breathless you can dial it up on The Criterion Channel (or for free on Kanopy) or rent the excellent Blu-ray edition at Movie Madness and make a stellar double feature. To be fair, the original, which tells the ramshackle story of a doomed affair between a petty crook on the run (Jean-Paul Belmondo) and an American newspaper hawker (Jean Seberg), is required viewing to appreciate Nouvelle Vague, but seeing them in close proximity only enhances the mix of cheek and reverence with which Linklater treats the creation of this landmark film and the legendary individuals involved.

That starts with Godard, played here (as all the French characters are) by a newcomer, Guillaume Marbeck, who captures both the stereotypical, sunglassed superiority of the auteur and his less public, insecure side: Godard was frustrated and embarrassed that he was among the last members of his Cahiers du Cinéma crew to actually make his own film. Most every other member of that crew pops up in Nouvelle Vague, from household names (well, at least in this house) François Truffaut, Claude Chabrol, Jacques Rivette, Eric Rohmer and so forth to those (usually female) contributors who never got their due. Those include Suzanne Schiffman, who worked as a script supervisor and assistant director for Godard and Truffaut for decades, and Phuong Maittret, nominally hired as Seberg’s makeup artist but really on set to serve as her protector and sounding board. (Helpfully, each new notable is introduced with an on-screen identifier.)

Seberg herself is played by the only “name” in the cast. Zoey Deutch shines as the actor unfortunately known more for her ill-treatment by the Hollywood machine and tragic end than for her talent and spark. She’s the one most likely to take Godard down a peg, whether “directing” him during his cameo appearance in Breathless or confronting him about her concerns, and she brings a welcome freshness to what would otherwise be largely a conclave of Gauloises-smoking proto-filmbros. Linklater and cinematographer David Chambille shot Nouvelle Vague with the same model of handheld camera that Raoul Coutard used for Godard, the Eclair Cameflex, and without the use of dolly tracks, cranes, or other techniques the filmmakers lacked access to. Even the editing and shot selections contribute to the feeling that this could almost be a long-lost “making-of” documentary, capturing the zeitgeist without descending into soulless fetishism. With his second film in mere weeks to depict the ups and downs of creative folks (Blue Moon stars Ethan Hawke as songwriter Lorenz Hart), Linklater continues to demonstrate his curiosity and his craft. Hard to believe sometimes that this is guy who brought Slacker into the world. (Streaming on Netflix starting Nov. 14)

The shadow of Ingmar Bergman continues to loom over Scandinavian cinema nearly a decade after his death. The latest instance of the Swedish director’s influence is Joachim Trier’s Sentimental Value, a family drama about a self-centered, emotionally distant father who just happens to be a film director and the daughter torn between seeking his approval and trying to escape his legacy. It’s a synopsis that would fit right in with Bergman’s incisive portrayals of domestic dysfunction such as Scenes from a Marriage and Autumn Sonata, although the Danish-born, Oslo-based Trier has absolutely earned the right to be seen as an auteur in his own right, especially following 2021’s Oscar-nominated The Worst Person in the World.

That film’s star, Renate Reinsve, plays Nora, a stage actress who has been estranged from her sister Agnes (Inga Ibsdotter Lilleaas) for years. After their mother dies, their father Gustav Borg (Stellan Skarsgård), who left the family decades earlier, reappears at her funeral. This triangle of unresolved resentments fuels the film, especially once Gustav announces that his comeback film will tell the story of his own mother, set and filmed in the same family home where she committed suicide. He offers the lead role to Nora (a fraught name indeed in Scandinavian theater), and when she refuses he casts an American movie star (Elle Fanning), further complicating things. In a way, Sentimental Value is the story of that house and the way that a piece of property can both unite and divide families while bearing silent witness to generations of laughter and loss. The four leads bring Trier’s sharp, sometimes bitingly funny screenplay to life, with Skarsgård clearly relishing the chance to feel his oats after a few years spent hopping from one franchise to another. (Has anyone else appeared in the Marvel Cinematic Universe, the Star Wars saga, and the Dune movies? He’s done that just in the last three years.)

It may not be fully fair to describe Trier’s film as simply another fruit from the Bergman tree, and that’s not my intent. He’s a unique filmmaker in his own right, one who, at 51, has established himself as a global presence and should, with any luck, be telling stories as specific and relatable as Sentimental Value for decades to come. (Cinema 21)

Now You See Me: Now You Don’t: First things first: whichever marketing executive vetoed the title Now You 3 Me needs to be pink-slipped posthaste—although a moniker with even a modicum of creativity might qualify as false advertising when applied to a product as rote, charmless, and borderline insulting as this one. For those who don’t have the plots of 2013’s Now You See Me and its 2016 sequel etched in their memories, congrats on saving those brain cells free for more productive use. In an alternate world where a quartet of smug stage magicians can become global superstars, the “Four Horseman”—J. Daniel Atlas (Jesse Eisenberg), Merritt McKinney (Woody Harrelson), Jack Wilder (Dave Franco), and Henley Reeves (Isla Fisher)—have been disbanded for years when a group of upstart Gen-Z illusionists starts impersonating them as part of Robin Hood scheme to take down rich jerks. The rival crews are then recruited by a mysterious figure to take on Veronika Vanderberg (Rosamund Pike), the cartoonish head of a South African diamond mine. Another good title would have been Mission: Impractical, as this clown car of prestidigitators engages in unnecessarily elaborate trickery to accomplish one plot objective, resets for an exposition dump, then rinses and repeats. This is a film that actively punishes its audience for daring to pay attention, with all the nuance of a Scooby-Doo episode and a numbing insistence on repeating its characters full names at every opportunity, all the better to remind you of who’s on screen while you fold your laundry in the other room. The director, Ruben Fleischer, and one the screenwriters, Rhett Reese, worked with Eisenberg and Harrelson on the Zombieland movies, so they’re clearly capable of bringing at least some creative juice to a project like this. Instead, the only person involved who seems to realize how dumb this all is and has fun with it is Lizzy Caplan, who reprises her role from Now You See Me 2 and brings the only hint of fresh air. Everyone else is so caught up in their own supposed cleverness that an audience seems like an afterthought. Hoopefuly audiences will agree. (wide release)

The Running Man: The second 2025 film adaptation of a Stephen King (writing as Richard Bachman) story about a macabre reality-show-style competition in a dystopian near future has a richer pedigree and a snappier vibe than The Long Walk. A previous, less faithful 1987 version starred Arnold Schwarzenegger as a wrongly convicted everyman who signs up to win his freedom by participating in a televised Most Dangerous Game situation. Here, director Edgar Wright recruited Glen Powell (Twisters, Anyone but You) to play Ben Richards, a loving husband and father with anger management issues who, desperate to afford medicine for his sick baby, volunteers to be the next star of the titular program. He’s given a head start and a supply of cash, and then must survive 30 days, with a cadre of trained hunters on his trail and fellow civilians looking to cash in his bounty, to earn the one billion dollar grand prize.

The logic (and it’s not too much to ask even a film like this to have some) is shaky in a couple respects. First, a story first published in 1982 and filmed in 1987 could not have anticipated just how ubiquitous and omniscient the modern surveillance state would become by 2025. Ben’s able to, among other things, rent a hotel room with cash and no ID, a virtual impossibility today. The facial recognition software increasingly used by law enforcement to spy on anyone in public is far more widespread and effective than the version in the film. Frankly, the dystopian world of The Running Man, complete with vast income inequality and a populace narcotized by violent spectacle and performative cruelty, doesn’t seem that far off from today’s reality. You could set this story in contemporary New York City and it would probably be tougher for our protagonist to survive. Also, for a story that aims to critique the soulless masochism of the entertainment-industrial complex, the film indulges in a fair amount of soulless masochism through its own depictions of violence. A stalwart supporting cast that includes Colman Domingo (in the Richard Dawson role), Josh Brolin (as the Big Bad network exec), William H. Macy (as an underground fixer), and Michael Cera (as a nerdy rebel) does its best to provide some notes of humor and personality, but for fan-favorite filmmaker Wright, this marks a retreat from smart and stylish thrillers such as Baby Driver and Last Night in Soho. Let’s just hope the film isn’t such an enormous hit that the Fox network decides that maybe it’s finally time to introduce the real thing. (wide release)

The Carpenter’s Son: Nicolas Cage is Joseph and FKA Twigs is Mary in this Gnostic horror tale inspired by the Infancy Gospel of Thomas, an apocryphal take on the life of Jesus that dates from the 2nd century and depicts him as a troubled, callow youth who uses his divine powers for petty and vengeful purposes. I’m not sure what I can add to that. Director Lofty Nathan, best known for the 2013 documentary 12 O’Clock Boys, gives Cage ample opportunity to lose his shit in a desert landscape as he wrestles with his boy’s dangerous power and ambiguous morality. It’s a little reminiscent of those alternate histories that imagine how things would have gone if Kal-El had been adopted by less upstanding foster parents than Martha and Jonathan Kent. It’s also not really an adaptation of the Infancy Gospel, which is a fascinating read that presents a Christian savior who had to put away childish things before attaining messiahhood. That text covers Jesus’s life from the ages of 5 to 12, when he makes his first appearance in the canonical Book of Luke. The Boy (Noah Jupe), as he’s called in The Carpenter’s Son, on the other hand, is already an adolescent here as he develops hormonal feelings for neighbor girl Lilith (Souheila Yacoub) and is tempted by a creepy stranger (Isla Johnston) who comes equipped with a snake-shaped totem, in case things were getting a little too subtle. (Eastport Plaza, Bridgeport Village, Progress Ridge)

Director Guillermo Del Toro made his second appearance in Portland in recent years on Tuesday, November 11, at PAM CUT’s Tomorrow Theater, to introduce his latest film, Frankenstein, and participate in a post-screening Q&A moderated by Executive Director Amy Dotson and including the movie’s Head of Concept Design Guy Davis and VFX Supervisor Dennis Bernardi. It was my second time seeing Frankenstein in a theater, and it was a substantial improvement over the first time. Del Toro was avuncular and passionate discussing the passion project he’d been pursuing for decades, really ever since seeing the 1931 Boris Karloff version as a seven-year-old. He talked about the ways Frankenstein was inspired by his own relationship with his father (“The souls of a father and kid are fused”) and his insistence that the film be “a big production made by humans for humans.” (A quibbler might quibble with the digitally created exteriors in much of the film, but I supposed those are technically made by humans, too.) Frankenstein, like Nouvelle Vague, is a Netflix production, and the company underwrote the screening, which allowed PAM CUT to distribute tickets for any seats not reserved for themselves, employees from ShadowMachine (where Guillermo Del Toro’s Pinocchio was made), or other VIP influencers. Winners of that lottery were treated to an audience with a world-class filmmaker who loves to do nothing more than talk movies. It was a treat.

Also this week

Concorde: Portland filmmaker Ethan Van Der Merwe presents the local premiere of his feature film about two lifelong friends who confront aspects of their relationship as one of them prepares to move to New York. (Saturday 11/15, Clinton)

Sun Ra: Do the Impossible: “A kaleidoscopic portrait of the visionary jazz musician, composer, and poet known as Sun Ra and the musical, historical, and philosophical currents that shaped him. Introduction by editor Steven Golliday.” (Tuesday 11/18, Hollywood)

Also opening

Keeper: “A romantic anniversary trip to a secluded cabin turns sinister when a dark presence reveals itself, forcing a couple to confront the property’s haunting past.” Directed by Osgood Perkins. (wide release)

King Ivory: “Based upon extensive research with law enforcement, gangs, inmates, migrants, and addicts, an exposé on fentanyl trafficking, and its effect on all walks of life.” (wide release)

If You See Something: “In the throes of a new love, an Iraqi immigrant seeking political asylum and an ambitious American woman start to build their life together in New York. When a crisis strikes, they are forced to navigate its impact on their relationship.” (Living Room)

Two Sleepy People: “Two office colleagues become spouses each night, only to return as strangers when morning comes.” (Eastport Plaza)

Repertory

Friday 11/14

• Boogie Nights [1997] (Cinema 21; also 11/15)
• Curse of Frankenstein [1957] / Horror of Dracula [1958] (Cinemagic)
• The Double Life of Veronique [1991] (5th Avenue; through 11/16)
• Dude Bro Party Massacre III [2015] (Clinton; cast member Paul Prado in attendance)
• The Killer [1989] (Hollywood; through 11/16)
• Kiss Me Deadly [1955] (Academy; through 11/20)
• The Shawshank Redemption [1994] (Academy; through 11/20)
• Wicked [2024] (multiple locations; through 11/20)
• The Wizard of Oz [1939] (Academy; through 11/20)

Saturday 11/15

• The Boy and the Heron [2023] (multiple locations; through 11/19)
• The Clock [1945] (Cinema 21)
• E.T. the Extra-Terrestrial [1982] (Cinemagic, also 11/18 & 11/20)
• Hard-Boiled [1992] (Hollywood; also 11/16)
• A League of Their Own [1993] (Hollywood)
• Shoot the Moon [1982] (Salem)
• True Lies [1994] (Cinemagic, through 11/17)

Sunday 11/16

• A Better Tomorrow II [1987] (Hollywood)
• Dreams (Sex Love) [2024] (Tomorrow; preceded by readings from author Jon Raymond, poet Lisa Wells, and creative writing professor Leni Zumas)
• The Fifth Element [1997] (Tomorrow)
• A Night at the Opera [1935] (Salem)

Monday 1/17

• Jeffrey [1995] (Hollywood)

Tuesday 11/18

• Basic Training [1985] (Hollywood, on 35mm)
• Boogie Nights [1997] (Salem)

Wednesday 11/19

• Eno [2024] (Cinema 21)
• The Feather Fairy [1984] (Clinton; presented by Church of Film)
• Ms. 45 [1981] (Hollywood)

Thursday 11/20

• Black Dynamite [2009] (Hollywood)
• Go West [1925] (Kiggins, with live score by Vancouver Symphony Orchestra)
• Popcorn [1991] (Clinton)