Author: Andres Kabel

Unfolding news, even when it is wild, can also bore. I thought I “knew” everything about Alexei Navalny, the charismatic mass populace challenger to Putin in Russia … his successes, the bizarre poisoning attempt, the “into the jaws of death” heroic return to the motherland. I thought I knew the ups and downs of his tragic story, and I figured the details would be tedious. But this follow-the-person documentary by filmmaker Daniel Roher, “Navalny,” quickly swept aside my preconceptions and revealed a story of heroism more dramatic than any superhero flick’s battles. Essentially Roher follows, with a deeply embedded camera, Navalny’s story from the Novichok poisoning in Siberia in August 2020, to his dramatic flight to Germany. There, from exile, Navalny and some bright activists tracked down his would-be killers and shamed Putin publicly. Close-up interviews with the leadership candidate reveal a deeply sympathetic and courageous individual, and the final scenes, building up over the course of the movie, of him returning to Moscow in January 2021, where, of course, Putin scooped him up and rigged trials that will keep him locked up forever … those scenes are magnificent. A portrait of genuine heroism, Navalny should be required viewing for all students of modern geopolitics and, indeed, for all of us.

Too esoteric for many, “A Trip to Infinity” will appeal to many nerds and science/maths tragics. Jonathan Halperin and Drew Takahashi artfully combine spirited, often cheeky interviews with leading mathematicians, philosophers, and physicists who wrestle with topics associated with infinity, such as parallel universes, time travel, the size and timeframe of the universe, etc. It was fascinating for me to watch writers I had followed in video mode, such as Janna Levin, Brian Greene, Alan Lightman, and Carlo Rogelli; all of them are in sparkling form. Of the other eight locutors, I especially enjoyed the awe-struck tone of Steve Strogatz. The talking heads are ably supplemented by nifty graphics and cartoon explainers. Of course, one does not expect to get to the end with perfect understanding, otherwise you’d be a world-famous mathematician, right? I kept up (perhaps) for half the stunning mental pyrotechnics, then surrendered to a happy sense of wonderment. I recommend A Trip to Infinity for those who ever think about infinity and for their children and grandchildren.

I’ve always heard that Neil Young has an enormous archive of sound and film data from throughout his career, so I assume that “Neil Young: Harvest Time,” an hour and a half of rag-bag footage from the making of his classic album Harvest, is the first output from that treasure trove. A beaming, slightly chubby Neil Young in 2022 introduces the video and then we journey through the recording of different Harvest tunes at his sun-baked ranch, in various studios. in London with a symphony orchestra, and in a radio station. We see and hear long jams repeated in rehearsal, brief fascinating interviews with the man himself about his creative process, and some concert footage. Some sections seem indulgent, and frequent band/recording scenes are interesting but not vital, yet the patchiness is more than made up for by a chiming sense of the hippy era and a peek into a genius singer/songwriter at work. I would say Neil Young: Harvest Time is primarily for longtime fans but students of that golden age of music should also check it out.

One book I have never forgotten is Peter Matthiessen’s luminous 1978 nature/travel memoir, The Snow Leopard. It transformed me into a greenie. Now, in “The Velvet Queen,” an eccentric, intrepid travel writer, Sylvain Tesson ventures into the 5,000-meter-plus heights of Tibet to seek the famously hard-to-find, hard-to-see snow leopard. Classified by IUCN as vulnerable (code for declining in numbers and only decades behind those possibly destined for extinction), this beautiful, powerful predator is “the ghost of the mountains.” Tesson narrates the film but he is not the star. Rather the inspirational pivot point of the film is famous photographer and moviemaker Vincent Munier, who is a chronicler of wild nature in extreme locations. A charismatic explorer-type, Munier readily admits he is far more at home peering at snow-swept mountains for elusive animals than back in civilization. Writer/director Marie Amiguet seamlessly constructs a tense narrative around the forays of the two men—photographer-explorer and writer-explorer—from an outpost hut into the high mountains, marveling at the animals and birds, while employing Munier’s deep knowledge of the snow leopard’s habits to achieve the near impossible: sight and capture on film. The plotline, as it were, is exciting, the cinematography is superb, and the landscape and creatures captured … well, they take one’s breath away. The Velvet Queen is the most visually stunning and moving film I have seen in 2022 so far, it’s a must-see.

Karin Slaughter pens frenetic, fraught thrillers designed for the thriller market, and although I stopped reading her a while back, it is clear she has all the needed chops. Based on Slaughter’s book of the same name, “Pieces of Her” is an eight-part series that commences with a commanding, baffling opening scene and never lets up. Ideal entertainment fare, the show ascends one notch with two impressive acting performances that insert characterization into the excellent plot. Bella Heathcote gives a wonderful turn as a thirty-year-old thrust into a bewildering, violent race, while Toni Collette reigns supreme as the mother with a deeply buried past. A competent crew of writers deliver the different episodes under the eye of showrunner Charlotte Stoudt, and all eight episodes are tightly delivered by director Minkie Spiro. The entire series unfurls with gratifying suspense, although the post-finale twist finished too hazily for me, and the show’s music is subpar. Overall, Pieces of Her is fine, none-too-cheap entertainment.