Sunday, 22 March 2026

BFI Flare: Mysterious Skin (Gregg Araki, 2004)

An image from the film Mysterious Skin. Three people are sitting closely together inside a blue car, with the window down.

More than 20 years on from its screening at International Film Festival Rotterdam, Gregg Araki’s Mysterious Skin returns to the big screen as part of this year’s BFI Flare, where it will be shown on Wednesday in a 4K restoration.  For this incarnation of the film, Araki has used new technology to make several tweaks to the original version, meaning its makeover extends well beyond what one might expect from a standard restoration.  Mysterious Skin is in fact a Dutch–US co-production, with Amsterdam-based Fortissimo Films one of three companies responsible for this haunting adaptation of Scott Heim’s eponymous 1995 novel.


Set in Heim’s home town of Hutchinson, Kansas, Mysterious Skin centres on Neil (Joseph Gordon-Levitt) and Brian (Brady Corbet), two young men leading separate—and quite different—lives.  Yet Neil and Brian are connected in a most unfortunate way: as eight-year-olds, both were abused by their baseball coach (Bill Sage).  While Neil remembers these events in detail, Brian has no memory of the abuse.  Instead, he is convinced that a five-hour gap following a rained-off game can be explained by UFO abduction, and on this basis he seeks out Avalyn (Mary Lynn Rajskub), a woman who also claims to have encountered aliens.


Upon meeting Avalyn, Brian finds many of the answers he’d hoped for, her theories neatly dovetailing with his suspicions.  But when Brian—who regularly experiences nightmares about being abducted—has a dream in which Neil’s face appears, he becomes determined to track down his old teammate.  Neil, meanwhile, has left Kansas for New York—a move inspired by his best friend Wendy (the late Michelle Trachtenberg).  At college, Brian gets to know another of Neil’s close friends, Eric (Jeff Licon), who takes him to visit Neil—who has returned to Hutchinson for Christmas—in the hope that Brian will finally learn the truth.


Although it may well be Araki’s best film, Mysterious Skin is also his least typical work.  Prior to this, he made a series of films—most notably his so-called Teen Apocalypse Trilogy—largely defined by their transgressive, nihilistic nature.  While those movies were all strictly adults-only fare, Mysterious Skin could be said to be his first film for grownups.  It’s a heartbreaking, wonderfully empathetic work, one whose impact has not diminished in the two decades-plus since its original release.  It was, and remains, a tough watch, with Gordon-Levitt and Corbet excelling as two very different—yet equally damaged—victims of abuse.

Darren Arnold

Images: BFI

Saturday, 21 March 2026

BFI Flare: Queen of Coal (Agustina Macri, 2025)

An image from the film Queen of Coal. A close-up portrait of a glamorous woman with long, wavy dark hair, wearing a tiara and earrings.

Coal mining in Argentina is small and highly concentrated in the Río Turbio basin of southern Patagonia, where a state‑owned company operates the country’s only significant coal mine and associated infrastructure.  The coal extracted there feeds a dedicated power plant project and supplies a minor share of industrial demand, leaving coal with less than 1% of Argentina’s electricity mix.  Although national coal reserves are on the order of hundreds of millions of tonnes, actual production is quite modest; this limited role has placed Río Turbio at the centre of debates about shifting local jobs and development away from coal.


The Patagonian mining industry it at the centre of Agustina Macri's Queen of Coal, which screens on Tuesday as part of this year's BFI Flare.  Macri's film tells the true story of Carla "Carlita" Rodríguez, who made history by becoming the first woman miner in Río Turbio.  Carlita is played by Lux Pascal, the younger sister of The Mandalorian star Pedro Pascal.  Lux actually acted alongside her big brother in Netflix series Narcos, and it is the streaming giant who have overseen the international release of Queen of Coal.  The film is based on the eponymous article by Erika Halvorsen, who co-wrote the brisk screenplay with Mara Pescio.


Queen of Coal follows Carlita as she applies for a job at the mine, which she is eligible for because her ID still lists her as male (women are barred from mining work).  Carlita quickly learns the ropes and soon excels at her job, proving herself to be an indispensable member of the team.  Aside from a few jibes and snide remarks, she is generally accepted by her colleagues.  However, problems arise when the passing of the Gender Identity Law results in her being officially classified as a woman—forcing her reassignment to a mundane clerical role in the mining company's office, where the women are far less tolerant than the miners.


This situation leaves Carlita miserable and unwell, prompting her to take medical leave before deciding to fight for reinstatement in the mine.  Outside of work, she begins a tentative romance with a visiting engineer, played by Spanish actor Paco León, but her relationship with her parents can be described as strained at best.  While the trajectory of the film will surprise no one, Agustina Macri elevates the material beyond a rote biopic, aided by a terrific performance from Lux Pascal.  The wintry, isolated mining locale recalls Mon oncle Antoine, and Macri uses the striking Patagonian landscape to powerful effect.

Darren Arnold

Images: BFI

Friday, 20 March 2026

BFI Flare: Love Letters (Alice Douard, 2025)

An image from the film Love Letters. Two women, one of whom is pregnant, are walking hand in hand across a bridge.

In 2021, France passed a major bioethics reform that opened IVF and other medically assisted reproduction to all adult women, including single women and those in same‑sex relationships.  The law also allowed elective egg freezing without a medical reason for women between the ages of 29 and 37.  Fertility treatments continued to be reimbursed by the public health insurance system, and from late 2021 lesbians and single women could start IVF in France instead of travelling to countries like neighbouring Belgium.  The reform also recognised a specific filiation procedure for two mothers in female couples.


These changes to the law are at the heart of Alice Douard’s feature debut, Love Letters (French: Des preuves d’amour), even though it is set in 2014, several years before the landmark ruling came into effect.  The film follows Céline (Ella Rumpf) and Nadia (Monia Chokri), a married couple on the brink of parenthood.  Nadia is six months pregnant (via a donor in Denmark), and as such her role is quite clearly defined.  But it’s not as simple for Céline, who, upon the birth, must begin a long and arduous legal process for which there is little precedent, given that the law allowing same-sex couples to adopt is less than a year old.


In order to legally become the child's mother, Céline must fulfil several requirements, one of which is to provide 15 separate testimonies from a range of close friends and relatives.  These written statements will serve, as suggested by the film’s original title, as proof of love between Céline and the baby.  Céline needs one of these letters to be written by her mother, Marguerite (Noémie Lvovsky), a famous concert pianist with whom she has long had an uneasy relationship.  Meanwhile, as they consider suitable candidates for the statements, the highly-stressed couple are also busy making the necessary arrangements for the birth.


Love Letters—which screens at BFI Flare on Saturday and Sunday—is a wonderfully assured debut feature, and Douard taps into Céline's immense frustrations as she, unlike Nadia, must jump through hoops to prove she’s qualified to be a mother.  Swiss actress Rumpf, previously best known for her starring role in Julia Ducournau’s Raw, gives a deeply nuanced performance, conveying how her character is gradually diminished in the eyes of others to the point of near invisibility.  But viewers who, like Céline, endure the knocks and crushing bureaucracy will ultimately be rewarded with a moment of transcendent beauty.

Darren Arnold

Images: BFI / Tandem