It’s hard to watch Snowpiercer without thinking about the last several months of controversy surrounding it. The film, an international production by Korean director Bong Joon-Ho (Memories of Murder, The Host, Mother), had its distribution rights bought up by Harvey Weinstein for the US. The trouble started when it was revealed that Weinstein, feeling the film wouldn’t be understood by midwestern audiences, wanted to cut at least 20 minutes from Bong’s preferred cut. After months of small updates on the matter, an agreement was finally made. Weinstein would release the final cut of Snowpiercer without any alterations, but it would be a limited release instead of a wide one.

The story behind Snowpiercer‘s release, despite having a happy ending, unfortunately changed the way people approach the film. After months of battles over editing, viewers will quietly debate over whether or not Weinstein’s suggestions weren’t exactly so out of line. It’s a shame because, tossing all surrounding controversy aside, Snowpiercer is quite entertaining. It’s a blockbuster in a single location, with enough quirks and artistry to remind audiences how a film like this could only be made outside of the Hollywood studio system. It’s a flawed and sometimes messy film from time to time, but in a manner that’s more risky and exciting instead of frustrating and incompetent.

In the near future, a chemical intended to lower the world’s temperatures ends up working so well that it brings about a new ice age. It’s impossible to live outside, and the small number of remaining survivors live on the titular train. The Snowpiercer travels around the world endlessly, and a highly enforced class system is in place on the train to maintain order. The story starts in 2031, 17 years after the train began running, in the tail section. The tail is reserved for the lower class citizens, with its inhabitants living in squalor with nothing to eat but gelatinous protein bars. Curtis (Chris Evans) and Edgar (Jamie Bell) are in the process of leading a revolt against the oppressive forces from the front of the train, which we only get brief glimpses of from the bizarre characters that visit the back of the train from time to time (this includes a brilliant Tilda Swinton in a performance that single-handedly elevates the entire film).

Curtis and his cohorts (including Octavia Spencer, John Hurt and Bong Joon-Ho regular Song Kang-Ho) successfully overpower security forces in the tail section, thus beginning their journey to confront Wilford, the mysterious engineer making sure the train operates smoothly. Bong, who’s known for his masterful ability to throw abrupt tonal shifts into his work without losing audiences, thrives in his film’s setting. Each train car acts as its own little universe, giving Bong an excuse to change the film’s dynamic while expanding its scale. A huge action sequence can be followed with a bizarre, expository visit to the train’s school, followed by a tense fight scene with almost no dialogue. These sequences, which also show off the incredible set design, are handled with aplomb, and make sure that Snowpiercer never spares a stale moment.

Snowpiercer isn’t without its flaws though. The script, adapted from a French graphic novel by Bong and Kelly Masterson, isn’t exactly subtle with some of its ideas (Early on Curtis says “I’m not a leader”, a line that stamps LEADER in big letters on his forehead), and some elements are introduced for no apparent reason (one character’s clairvoyant abilities is ignored almost immediately after it’s introduced). Still, Bong’s political commentary on the need for oppression to survive is far more interesting of a topic for this kind of film, and the way he expands his film’s scope toward the end is quite entertaining. Snowpiercer may not be the masterpiece that people were hoping for, but that shouldn’t take away from the fact that it’s a hell of a fun ride.

Snowpiercer trailer

You couldn’t ask for two actors better suited to play a couple of sharp-featured, hipster vampire lovers than Tilda Swinton and Tom Hiddleston, two actors who’ve hit the absolute peak of coolness at this point in their respective careers. And who better to direct them than Jim Jarmusch, the indie godfather who always seems to be ahead of the curve stylistically, speeding down the roadway we call cinema in his own lane? Sadly, Jarmusch falls behind the curve in Only Lovers Left Alive, a tiresome love story that’s too fascinated with cleverly subverting (it thinks) vampire lore to say anything truly interesting. Is Jarmusch’s exercise in aimless chatting a unique take on bloodsucker cinema? Yes. But he so aggressively concerns himself with subverting the myth that film becomes burdened by it.

Hiddleston plays Adam, an underground indie musician who lives in the forgotten American wasteland of Detroit, swimming in vinyl records, antiquated electronics, and vintage guitars dropped off at his grungy house by his innocent “zombie” (human) stoner buddy named Ian (a perfectly casted Anton Yelchin). His lover of centuries, Eve (Swinton), lives in Tangier, stuffing her nose in piles of dusty old books in every language and meeting with her old friend Marlowe (John Hurt) at a late-night cafe. (Yes, you can actually see hipster-stench wafting off of the screen.) Marlowe is irritated that he never got credit for writing Shakespeare’s plays, one of many obnoxiously presented wink-wink jokes about immortality aimed at fans of vampire fiction who have probably heard this stuff a million times.

Eve flies to Detroit to reunite with her precious Adam, and a steamy reunion it is–their passion for each other hasn’t dwindled a bit over the hundreds of years they’ve been canoodling all over the world. Hiddleston and Swinton sizzle, and their fiery scenes in close proximity are the film’s most engaging. The film slyly suggests that the world’s greatest artists were all members of a sort of vampire aristocracy, with Adam’s wall adorned with a gallery of portraits of supposed vamps (Buster Keaton, Joe Strummer, Mark Twain, Claire Denis, and others). Jack White even gets a shout out, as Adam and Eve drive by his childhood home on a nighttime drive through the city. The marriage of vampire lore with artistic icons is unique and intriguing at first, but it’s prodded and poked to death by incessant referencing.

It seems as if Jarmusch thought long and hard about how to represent vampire life in ways never seen before. He finds new angles. Adam and Eve get their blood in purified packets from doctors (the great Jeffrey Wright) and friends–human blood is so packed with impurities these days that sucking straight from the throat is a health risk. Their taste in the arts is so hyper-sophisticated because they’ve soaked up several lifetimes worth of music, books, and stage performance. Makes sense. Eve makes tasty Type-O blood popsicles, a culinary invention that seems pulled from the vampire section of Pinterest. These plays on the genre are clever, but add very, very little to the story at hand. Light chuckles at best.

But there isn’t much story to sink your teeth into, anyway. That’s not what Jarmusch is aiming for; leave that stuff to Stephanie Meyer. He’s defining the attitude of a culturally refined, endangered generation so repulsed by the vapid state of young people that they’re driven to the brink of suicide. (Adam has the eager Ian fetch him a wooden bullet, which he intends to off himself with. That is, until Eve shows up to perk him up and rekindle his will.) The film is perhaps more interesting as a piece hipster fiction, using vampirism as a metaphor to explain their endless love for old, tattered things.

As a hangout movie, Only Lovers is sometimes great, with Hiddleston and Swinton’s seductive repartee slipping off their tongues like melted butter. But again, vamp references distract and derail scenes often. The production design by Marco Bittner Rosner is luscious and brilliantly captured by Jarmusch (he’s a master at that). There are loads of edgy, stylish images throughout the film, like the opening shot of a starry night sky spinning and spinning until it takes the shape of a spinning vinyl record in Adam’s abode. Only Lovers Left Alive is one of Jarmusch’s most alluring films stylistically, but the self-conscious, often silly script makes it hard to fully indulge in its sensual wonders.

Only Lovers Left Alive trailer

Lars von Trier, the Danish controversial out-spoken director, delivers his least controversial film of his career, Melancholia. The film centers around two sisters who are both psychologically ill and must deal with the tragedy that world will end when a rogue planet named Melancholia approaches Earth. It is one of the most captivating opening sequences of the year and will instantly get you hooked. But it is an art-house type of film that demands patience from the audience for most of it’s duration.

Melancholia is divided into two parts; the first part is called “Justine”. Justine (Kirsten Dunst) and her newly wedded husband Michael (Alexander Skarsgard) show up two hours late for their own wedding reception. As they are about to enter the reception, they notice an unusually bright red star in the sky and take the time to admire it despite already being so late. You can tell that something is bothering Justine, as she disappears throughout the reception to be by herself. Justine acts as if she is going to fall asleep on more than a couple occasions and at one point takes a bath instead of cutting the cake.

At the halfway point of the film, there is not a whole lot we know about Justine yet. The plot also does not advance a whole lot in the first hour. Still, the film does not lose your attention as you get a sense that it is building up to something. It feels like the film was almost shot in reverse as we are shown the characters in action before knowing anything about them, as it turns out that is what the second part is about.

The second part of the film called “Claire” and is in the point of view of Justine’s sister named, you guessed it, Claire (Charlotte Gainsbourg). Suddenly, the film starts giving us more background on the characters and the story. The red star they mentioned at the beginning is in fact the planet Melancholia, which is supposed to pass by Earth in 5 days. At least that is what the scientists are saying; Claire is worried that they might be wrong.

Unless you were not paying attention, the opening sequence gave away the film. The planet does collide with Earth and the end of life as we know it is looming. But knowing that does not take away from the film, knowing that only adds to it. There are many transformations in the film but the most obvious one is the characters themselves.

It turns out that Justine is extremely depressed to the point of barely functional without Claire. Claire battles with her own illness with anxiety about Melancholia. Justine does not help with the anxiety when she tells Claire that “Life on Earth is evil” and there will not be much time left on it. As the planet approaches Justine seems to become more relaxed and normal than ever while Claire is basically switching roles with Justine. It is as if Justine is represented as Melancholia and Claire is represented as Earth, it may be stretch but the paths of destruction links them together.

Beginning shots of slow motion were captured fantastically and had a perfect score to go along with it (Wagner’s Tristan und Isolde). Showcasing people in their last moments before the plant Melancholia collided. We see lightning coming from Kristen Dunst’s finger tips and her laying in her wedding dress on water with her eyes closed. The beginning and ending scenes were phenomenally well shot and hard to forget.

Kirsten Dunst won Best Actress at this year’s Cannes Film Festival for her role of Justine. Dunst does an amazing job of playing an unhappy person who cannot deal with everyday normal activities but can deal with the world ending. Charlotte Gainsbourg (who worked with von Trier in Antichrist) does an equally impressive job with her supporting role as the supporting sister.

Melancholia is perhaps the best “end of the world” film as it does not try to sugarcoat anything or use a far-fetched sci-fi solution to magically resolve the impending doom. Instead, it shows us paths of destruction in multiple ways, psychologically through Justine’s character and physically with the planet Melancholia. While the beginning and ending scenes are brilliant, the middle section is so-so. At the very least, I think most people can agree it is an ambitious film that you can admire from a technical standpoint.