Nadav Lapid takes another jump forward with his fine new Israeli/French film, SYNONYMS

Not that this exceptionally creative, challenging and deeply unsettling filmmaker has that much farther to go. From Nadav Lapid's bizarre and gripping Policeman (2011) through The Kindergarten Teacher (2014) and its unnecessary but certainly acceptable remake (from 2018, which Lapid did not direct) to his newest stunner, SYNONYMS, in which, as ever, his antagonist cannot fully live or maybe even survive while dealing with the horrendous contradictions of life in the hugely divided, corrupt and corrupting state of Israel today.

Mr. Lapid, shown at right, is not only pointing his finger at Israel; France, the country to which our "hero" has come for escape, takes its licks, as well. And any thinking person here in our deeply divided USA watching this film will also, TrustMovies suspects, wince in some kind of guilty, angry recognition.

The hero/antihero this time around is Yoav, a young, unhappy Israeli who seems to be suffering from everything from home-country dysfunction to a case of OCD and, though he understands and can speak some French, is counting on his lightweight French/ Hebrew dictionary to get him through each day.

Yoav is played by an in-every-way impressive newcomer named Tom Mercier (above and below), who gives the kind of performance that is so real, so moment-to-moment strange and compelling that you are not likely to forget it. You're not likely to forget Mercier either, for his face and body -- which we see all of and fairly often (there's ample full-frontal and full-rear nudity) -- are of the sort of that legends are made. Not to objectify here (goodness, no!), but M. Mercier has perhaps the best-looking male posterior in movies, and his frontal view is quite something, too (he often seem to be semi-erect).

So, how does a young man, without the equivalent of a French "green card," make his way in Paris? On the kindness of strangers, of course, via a wealthy young Frenchman out to do good while fulfilling his own needs, and his older-but-still-pretty girlfriend, both of whom help and use Yoav. The young man Emile, played by Quentin Dolmaire (below, left), that gorgeous kid from My Golden Days, proves visually stunning once again, while Louise Chevillotte (at right, two photos below) does subtle intuitive work in her role as Charlotte, the used-and-using girlfriend.

Yoav's job -- with a security company that provides this for Israelis in France -- leads us to some marvelous, if strange people and work, all of which is shown in often fast, frenetic scenes that make their point only later, when we've pieced together events and the unsettlingly mixed feelings they've engendered.

There's an extended scene on the Paris subway involving Yoav and his new, hugely troubled friend, that is as suspenseful and anxiety-provoking as any you'll have seen. Lapid's film is also allusion-riddled -- to security and what it means, in France and elsewhere; to the miasma of the military; to Jewish and/or Muslim identity; and especially to the allusiveness of words and their meaning.

Synonyms is also about as homoerotic a movie as I've encountered in a long while, though Lapid never pushes it over the boundary to homosexual. This is an interesting tightrope walk, and the filmmaker -- who both directed and co-wrote the screenplay with his father Haim Lapid -- manages it all with enormous elan. Women are noticeably secondary here -- to be used and enjoyed, of course -- but it's mostly about the power struggles/friendships between the guys.

Visually, Synonyms is Lapid's most impressive work to date (the cinematographer is the filmmaker's usual, Shai Goldman): alternately ravishingly beautiful in its flow and pace, sometimes simply quiet and cold. Once in awhile it goes overboard (in my estimation) but mostly it is almost wildly on-the-mark in the manner in which it keeps us as off-balance as is our hero.

Performances down the line are not simply solid but complete -- especially in the case of Mercier, who will have you thoroughly rooting for Yoav, even though you come to realize that he is lost. Yet perhaps not completely. Is there hope? Lapid may close the door., but I don't think he locks it.

See for yourself, as Synonyms -- from Kino Lorber, in French and Hebrew with English subtitles, and running 123 minutes -- opens theatrically in New York City tomorrow, Friday, October 25, at Film at Lincoln Center and the Quad Cinema; in Los Angeles on November 1 at the Landmark NuArt; and here in South Florida on November 15 at Miami's Coral Gables Art Cinema, and on November 29 at the Lake Worth Playhouse and the Living Room Theaters in Boca Raton. To view all currently scheduled playdates, cities and theaters around the country, click here & scroll down.

MARTYR: Mazen Khaled's fantasia of love, death, grief--and imprisoning religion/tradition

It is difficult to imagine, after viewing MARTYR -- the new movie from Lebanese filmmaker Mazen Khaled -- that the film was not hugely divisive, both in its home country of Lebanon and elsewhere. This is one of the most homoerotic movies I have ever seen, while remaining just this side of anything obviously/overtly homosexual. There are good reasons for this particular artistic stance. Writer/ director Khaled (shown below) is exploring a Muslim society in which the

highly religious adhere to a strict code that, by not allowing nearly as much interplay between male and female as does most of western society, pushes young men together into kinds of "closeness" that cannot help but move from mental, physical and spiritual into the sexual, especially when some of these men are, of course, already genetically programmed to want and need the kind of love from each other that can best be expressed sexually.

Further, while fostering homoeroticism, the restrictive nature of the Muslim religion allows for less privacy. The movie's "hero," Hassane (played with fraught intensity by a beautiful newcomer, Hamza Mekdad, below, being carried), can't even masturbate in peace while taking a shower -- thanks to his parents' constant badgering.

Khaled's film is a fantasia of visuals and themes -- imagined and real, on land and sea, impressionistic, grounded, emotional, some of these even danced and sung -- about attraction, love, employment, economics, death and grief, all sifted through the sieve of the kind of fundamentalist religion that controls all.

The bare bones of the story could hardly be simpler: a day in the life of Hassane, his family and friends. Yet within all this resides every major emotion and event you could ask for (except perhaps some humor). The movie is elliptical, however; don't expect to have everything explained in typically expository fashion.

Instead of looking for work (or simply showing up at the jobs some of them already have), Hassane and his pals take a day off at the beach, above, where the popular sport is to take a somewhat dangerous dive or jump (below) from a favored point above the water.  One particular dive changes everything, and from there the movie fills with questioning and grief, as the group begins to pine for what might have been.

Characters explore the thoughts and feelings they are unable or unwilling to vent in their actual life -- via dance (below, in the closest thing to something homosexual the movie offers) and choral keening (from Hassane's mother and her peers), even as the movie continues its immense and near-constant fascination with the human body, skin and touch.

Moving from documentary-like footage to philosophical inquiry to religious ritual to the question of what the title term actually means, Martyr balances the formal with the elliptical, finally arriving full circle back to the sea -- and the skin.

Don't expect something at all standard here, but if you approach the film in anything like the spirit in which it was conceived and executed, I think you will find yourself enmeshed and enraptured by its beauty, while saddened at the picture of male youth wasted and/or sacrificed to tradition and religion.

From Breaking Glass Pictures and running 84 minutes, the movie opens this Friday, November 30 in Los Angeles at Laemmle's Glendale and then on Friday, December 14 in New York City at the Cinema Village. In between times, on Tuesday, December 4, Martyr will have its release on DVD and VOD (the latter via iTunes, Amazon Prime Video, Google Play, Vudu and FandangoNOW).

Rediscovered (again!) cult classic, Leslie Stevens' PRIVATE PROPERTY hits Blu-ray/DVD

Much is being made of the recent theatrical (and now available on DVD and Blu-ray) release of PRIVATE PROPERTY, the 1960 cult classic written and directed by Leslie Stevens, and starring his then-wife Kate Manx, in her movie debut, alongside two better-known actors Corey Allen (from Rebel Without a Cause) and Warren Oates (who was yet to come into full prominence). Supposedly lost and out of circulation for more than 50 years, the film was seen by TrustMovies when it was first released, and then again when it was re-released, either in theaters or maybe on videotape or DVD, at least decade or more back in time.

I cannot recall exactly how or when this earlier re-discovery happened, but I am certain that it did. (Might it have come from a European DVD brought to us via the now defunct Greencine?) Consequently, I greatly question the claim that this is the first time the film will have been seen in all those many years since its debut.

Mr. Stevens (shown at right), whose credits include even more writing than directing, was onto something -- several somethings, actually -- with this film, the first of these being how empty seems the wealthy lifestyle inhabited by the married couple we see here: he, forever trying to make a further buck, and she, so unsatisfied at his constant inattention and patronization. The movie also offers a look at the haves against the have-nots, some of the most voyeuristic scenes seen in a movie up to this time, as well as an enormous undercurrent of homoeroticism that keeping threatening to bubble over into overt homosexuality.

Into the lives of this "model" twosome comes another twosome, a couple of hunky and somewhat frightening drifter buddies -- Duke (Mr. Allen) and Boots (Mr. Oates), who first threaten a gas station attendant to get some free food and drink and then quietly highjack a car and its driver (very well-played by Jerome Cowan) in order to follow another car and its driver, Ann (the lovely Ms Manx) on whom the guys have designs.

For nearly a full hour of its hour-and-twenty-minute running time, Private Property is a slow burner full of longing and hesitation, as Duke comes on to Ann, supposedly setting her up for a sexual rendez-vous with Boots, but also seeming to want to her for himself. All the while, the two men appear awfully close to each other, with Duke joking about Boots just wanting a sugar daddy (which he may, in fact, have already found in Duke). All of this is handled extremely well by both Stevens and his excellent cast, which includes Robert Ward as Ann's thoughtless, thankless hubby.

Although three-quarters of the film is first-rate, the finale descends into full-blown melodramatic-thriller mode, with all the usual conventions and nonsense the genre often includes. While the ending offers a kind of release from what's been building up, it is hugely second-rate compared to the build-up itself. Still, the 4K restoration look great; the jazz score, very "of its time," is appropriate; and Ms Manx (above and further above) looks simply great in her fashions of the day and also does a creditable acting job. (The actress sadly ended her own life just four years later, after making one other movie and three TV appearances.)

The talented Mr. Allen (above) gave probably his best performance in this film -- sexy, scary, charming and even, at times, vulnerable and hopeful -- while Oates (below and on poster, top), in the smaller role, shows plenty of that understated charisma he would demonstrate in many movies to come. With Ted McCord as cinematographer and Conrad Hall on camera, the movie had plenty of talent behind that camera, as well as in front.

This re-release is yet another gift from Cineliciouspics and, having just completed its theatrical run as of tomorrow (you can click here and scroll down to see where it has played), the movie is available now on DVD and Blu-ray, for purchase and/or rental. There is a terrific extra here, too, in the form of a current-day interview with Alexander Singer, the movie's still photographer and technical consultant, who talks about the filming and what went on personally and professionally at the time. It's all fascinating stuff, as is the film itself.

Looking for something strange, sensual and South American? Gabriel Mascaro's NEON BULL

If the Portuguese word vaquejada doesn't ring an immediate bell, you'll remember it after viewing the Brazilian film, NEON BULL. (You're going to remember a few other things about this movie, as well.) Vaquejada is a kind of Brazilian rodeo sport in which the bull -- dehorned, it seems -- is trapped between two horses and then pulled to the ground not by the usual roping that we're used to but by yanking very hard on the bull's tail until he is forced to the ground.

If this seems a bit silly at first (and second and third) glance, it is probably only a tad more so than our version. And it's a hell of a lot easier on the bull than, say, bullfighting.

Vaquejada appears to be the subject of writer/director Gabriel Mascaro's new movie (the filmmaker is shown at left), but it turns out to be only one of them. Another is clothing design, a skill to which our hero, Iremar, aspires -- to this end using the lithe body of his "companion," Galega, who earns her living as an "exotic dancer" (two photos down), as his model. Iremar's "money" job is dusting the tails of those bulls prior to their pulling, and another of his roles is being a kind of surrogate father to Galega's on-the-cusp-of-the-teen-years daughter. That our boy manages all of this -- and a good deal more -- is a testament to his strength, virility and focus.

Iremar is played by an actor you'll not soon forget named Juliano Cazarré (above), who has some 29 credits on his resume, though I doubt that any of them will resonate quite the way this role does. Cazarré possess a masculine beauty, strength and grace that puts him immediately in a class by himself. Facially and physically -- from his stature and movement to his sizeable cock, which is on lengthy display during a group shower scene -- he's a standout. His acting,too, seems just right for this particular role that calls for a combination of strength, focus and keeping any emotion very close to the vest.

Filmmaker Mascaro creates a small, strange but almost cozy little world here, a kind of makeshift extended family in which, finally, your heart goes out to that deprived daughter but to no one else. The others, due most likely to their hardscrabble lives, put their immediate needs and desires above everything and everyone else.

Iremar uses Galega (Maeve Jinkings, above) as the model for his clothing "creations," which will not, I think, set the fashion world ablaze anytime soon. The two seem to have no sexual relationship, however. She instead does it with a young newcomer to the group, while he has a lengthy, full-out sexual encounter with a very pregnant woman (shown below and not fertilized by our man) whom he meets as she hawks her perfumes.

The sex is enormously sensual and absolutely consensual. It's hot as hell, too, but it does not appear to draw the participants any closer -- except momentarily/physically. Yet Iremar seems every bit as concerned with protecting the baby in his partner's belly as he does with getting his own rocks off. Cazarré's work in this scene, as in the rest of the film, exudes the kind of masculinity that never needs to push. It's simply full-out and on display at all times.

Mascaro's pacing is leisurely-unto-languid but so specific in what it lets us view from scene to scene that his film never bores. He shows us a world that, though it may be ordinary to some Brazilians who live in these specific areas, will seem much like Mars to the rest of us (a shopping mall in the middle of a completely desolate landscape?).

For Iremar, what matters is his clothing designs and making enough money to get them going. To this end there's a scene in a stable involving bringing a stud horse to climax in order to steal its semen to sell and then purchase a better sewing machine.

The other men may make fun of Iremar and his sewing habit (the term "faggot"is tossed about jokingly), but homosexuality per se is absent from the movie. That group shower with Iremar and his coworkers, however, is one of the most homoerotic in cinema history, ending with Iremar standing like a naked king surrounded by his kneeling, submissive courtiers.

If I've conveyed even half of the sublime strangeness of this Brazilian movie, then I've succeeded -- somewhat, at least. When Cacá (a lovely, sad, spirited performance by newcomer Alyne Santana, below) -- the young daughter who will probably never know either the mother or father she deserves -- asks Iremar for a hug and he gives it (above), the emotional high point of the movie is reached. And that happens maybe one-third into the film's 101 minutes. Afterward, everyone simply goes back to his or her next step on the way to momentary satisfaction.

Neon Bull, released by Kino Lorber, opens this Friday, April 8, in New York City at the Film Society of Lincoln Center and on April 15 in Los Angeles at Laemmle's Ahrya Fine Arts and Noho 7. To see all currently scheduled playdates with cities and theaters, click here and scroll down.