Eva

Eva Film Difficulty Ranking: 2

Whilst the drama of Eva is kicked off by tragedy, the film never feels tragic. This is an immensely warm-hearted film which breaks traditional gender roles by casting Endry Cardeño, a trans-woman, as Eva, a grandma forced to take care of her granddaughter. As per the idiom; “it takes a village to raise a child,” we find a small tight-knit community in Tegucigalpa, the largest city in Central America, instead of one of the murder capitals of the world.

From: Honduras, North America
Watch: IMDb
Next: The Awakening of the Ants, Amor y Frijoles, La Yuma

Eva Breakdown

In Eva, a trans-woman takes care of her granddaughter after the sudden death of her daughter-in-law. While processing grief, she tries to help her son connect emotionally to his daughter. Amid tensions, reproaches, and silence, Eva and her son embark on separate paths towards the reconstruction of their family bond and place within their community.

The combination of tragedy and tight-knit family and community make Eva a heart-warming addition to the Central American ‘hood film’ genre. Like the first ‘hood films’ from Los Angeles, such as Boyz n the Hood and Menace II Society, and along the lines of Amor Y Frijoles and La Yuma, Eva centers on the experiences of characters growing up in under-served communities in urban environments. It shows that community bonds are the key to surviving through tragic realities of the city in the face of limited government support. For Eva, there’s no evidence of public support for her adoption of her daughter-in-law. Instead, she builds connections with her in-laws, family, lovers, and customers, to turn the overwhelming city into a warm, mellow community.

It’s also wonderful to see nontraditional gender roles integrated so naturally in Eva. By casting Endry Cardeño as a trans, single grandmother, director William Reyes, normalizes trans people on film, trans people in family roles, and trans people as grandparents (especially pertinent as the life expectancy of trans-women in Tegucigalpa is just 32 according to the director William Reyes).

Look out for Eva‘s release in the coming months to catch a tender, poignant film that centers on family and community navigating tragedy.


Head to our LALIFF 2026 festival Hub for more reviews from LALIFF 2026.

Mr Lazarescu

The Death of Mister Lazarescu Film Difficulty Ranking: 3

Meet Mister Lazarescu. He’s an old man living in an Communist-era apartment block in Bucharest with some cats. Problem is, he’s an alcoholic, and his last few drinks are sending him over the edge of life. Join him in his last few hours as he navigates the bureaucratic Romanian health system. It’s his last nightmare and one to put you off drinking for life.

From: Romania, Europe
Watch: Trailer, Watch on YouTube, Buy on Amazon, Watch on Vudu
Next: I, Daniel Blake, Beauty and the Dogs, Cosy Dens
Continue reading “The Death of Mister Lazarescu – A Dying Man in Real-Time”

This Is Not a Burial, It’s a Resurrection is not your typical film. It’s pretty slow paced and full of carefully crafted shots, reminiscent of director Lemohang Jeremiah Mosese’s debut, Mother I Am Suffocating. This is My Last Film About You. However, unlike his debut documentary feature, This Is Not a Burial, Its a Resurrection is Mosese’s first fictional feature film. But don’t expect an easy to follow narrative, as like a Lav Diaz film (see From What is Before), it requires a lot of interpretation. If you put in the effort, you’ll be rewarded with a beautiful constructed film touching on a wide range of themes covering death, community, progress, and the environment.

This Is Not a Burial, Its a Resurrection starts chaotically with a slow motion shot of a group of horses being attacked by tribesmen. This opening shot doesn’t appear to serve any contextual purpose, as the horses or tribesmen never reappear later in the film, but it does create a sense of uneasiness which prevents us from settling into the film. This feeling continues into the next scene in which a camera slowly pans around a dark empty bar with the eerie sounds of a lesiba instrument playing in the background. The cameras stops on a uniquely dressed man who starts giving us clues about what we are about to see. He doesn’t reveal much, as he uses a lot of legends and proverbs which don’t mean much to us at this point, but his speech indicates that we’ll have to be an active viewer and search for deeper meaning in the rest of the film.

We finally meet our main protagonist Mantoa in the next scene. She’s an eighty-something woman living alone in remote valley in Lesotho, which is a days trip from the nearest town. Her last son has passed away, so she’s now the last one left in her family. As a result, all she craves now is her own death, so she sets about planning her own funeral. Until her time comes, she carries on with the futility of her life, attending local community meetings and covering cracks in her mud floor. However, her patience is disrupted by news that the local government are planning to flood the area with the construction of a big dam. Not only does the dam disrupt the plans for her own burial, but it will also force the relocation of her buried family. As the main figure leading the resistance against the dam, she becomes more and more distanced from her community and religion. Her death isn’t a physical one, but a death from her community and cultural roots as the country ruthlessly pushes forward in the name of progress.

The narrative is sparse, but the look and feel of the film is incredibly rich. One way Mosese adds a unique richness is through his use of a taller 1:33:1 aspect ratio which gives the picture slightly more height. The extra vertical space allows the sky to dominate every image by taking up almost half of the screen for each landscape shot. In contrast, the people in the community are largely confined to the bottom third of each landscape shot. This framing adds power to the sky and nature, and diminishes the significance of the people below. Their lives and the things they do, such as building dams, are impermanent compared to the eternal nature of the sky (and heaven?). The taller aspect ratio therefore enforces the futility of not just Mantoa, but the futility of humanity as a whole.

The futility of humanity is enforced by the feeling generated by the films’ soundtrack. Firstly, listen to the trailer for this film without watching it. It sounds like a horror film. There’s the unique muffled bursts of the lesiba combined with a horror 101 mix of piano notes, scratchy strings, and ascending voices. This soundscape plays throughout the film to viscerally convey the confusion, anger, and sadness that Mantoa feels on her quest to join her dead family. But the sounds used in horror films also signifies the presence of the spiritual realm. Just as the taller aspect ratio gives more power to the sky and nature at the expense of the significance of humanity, the soundtrack bolsters the dominance of the spiritual over the physical human bodies. It reminds us that we’re not in control of our own fate.

The unsettling opening, sparse narrative, and rich look and feel of the film make This is Not a Burial, It’s a Resurrection feel enigmatic. By the end, it feels like you’ve just watched a piece of art. You might have understood a bit of the film and felt its power and beauty, but you will finish it feeling that it’s full meaning is unattainable. It’s mystery is the mystery of life.

WARNING: SPOILERS

Bacurau is one fun genre film with a bunch of memorable cult action film characters on the level of Arnold Schwarzenegger in Predator or Song Kang-ho in Snowpiercer. Problem is, it builds up the cult vibe a bit too high, which leaves the ending doomed to underwhelm.

However, that’s not to say you shouldn’t watch this film. On the contrary, you should. It’s still exciting. Plus it presents a positive message (in a High Noon esque conflict with a lot of violence that I cannot advocate) of a diverse community in rural Brazil that comes together to stand up to attacks from local politicians and foreign interests. It’s an obvious allegory to a Brazil that has become increasingly polarized due to the rise of the Brazilian far right, led by President Jair Bolsonaro. It is interesting to see that this adaptation of The Most Dangerous Game arrived in the U.S. the same weekend as The Hunt, a U.S. adaptation of the same book, considering both countries are led by right-wing leaders.

Bacurau is the name of the fictional isolated town in the heart of Brazil where the film takes place. The town is a Brazilian copy of the towns you’d expect to see in an American western. It’s surrounded by dusty land and sparse vegetation, with only one road leading into the town. The same road all the town’s buildings are built on. The residents also represent a diverse range of backgrounds, like you’d expect to see on the American frontier (see First Cow), with black, white, and brown people, young and old, from a variety of professions. It’s almost a utopian community of the future, where everyone gets along and respects each other, or maybe it just feels utopian because communities like this are disappearing.

They’re rightly suspicious of and prepared for anything that tries to break their community. A couple stationed a mile outside of their town uses walkie-talkies to inform the DJ in town of any visitors, who then uses his speakers to pass their warnings onto everyone in town. Their lines of communication allow them to avoid interacting with the lying local politician and prepare themselves from the attacks of foreigners. They can survive by embracing outcasts and standing together in the face of danger.

There are even a few clues that the community has done this before. The town’s museum is full of memorabilia from countless rebellions against the government. The town’s residents encourage outsiders to visit the museum to show off their pride in their independence, and also warn them of what might happen if they don’t receive respect. In one of the last scenes, the museum curator asks the clean up crew to leave the mark of a bloodied hand on the wall to serve as another mark of their resistance. Their respect for their local museum indicates a respect for their history. Knowing their past, allows them to be better prepared for the future. In this case, their experience defending their town from the government and foreigners in the past has made them more wary of the same people today. It’s a lesson for everyone living today: know your history or fall victim to a cycle of racism and division that has been reborn in the rise of the prejudiced right-wing governments of the world.


If you liked Bacurau, director Kleber Mendonça Filho and co-director Juliano Dornelles handpicked an assortment of films that map the rich cinematic universe to which their inventive creation belong for the Lincoln Center in New York. Whilst the film series had to be cancelled due to Coronavirus, many of the films listed are available for streaming. Check out their program here or the link below, featuring works by John Carpenter, Sergio Corbucci, Eduardo Coutinho, and more.

https://www.filmlinc.org/series/mapping-bacurau/#films

Hyenas

Hyenas Film Difficulty Ranking: 4

In Djibril Diop Mambety’s Hyenas, a former outcast returns to her African village a rich woman after being kicked out three decades earlier for getting pregnant out of wedlock. The town fawns over her wealth and rolls out the complete ceremony to welcome her home. However, she has other plans. She promises infinite wealth to the impoverished town and it’s residents in exchange for the execution of Dramaan, a local shopkeeper and the man who fathered her child without owning up. Will the community betray their beloved shopkeeper for wealth?

For more analysis check out Layla Gaye’s review of the film and it’s satirical criticism of neocolonialism and the corrupting power of wealth on a society’s morality.

From: Senegal, Africa
Watch: Trailer, JustWatch, Kanopy
Next: Bamako, Black Girl, Rashomon