At first glance, it would seem that Muriel (Daisy Edgar-Jones) and her soon-to-be brother-in-law Julius (Jacob Elordi) might be harboring some secret feelings for each other. They hold hands and trade knowing looks just out of sight from Muriel’s fiancé, Lee (Will Poulter). But life–and love–is much more complicated in the 1950s America of “On Swift Horses.” Stretching through Kansas, Nevada, California, and Mexico, their journey towards self-discovery finds Muriel and Julius after he has left their shared home for wanderlust with a fellow ambitious dreamer named Henry (Diego Calva). Left unfulfilled by a humdrum waitressing gig and inattentive husband, Muriel harbors a few secrets of her own, betting on horses to grow a small secret nest egg for herself and developing a fondness for her next-door neighbor, Sandra (Sasha Calle). While Julius weaves in and out of her life, Muriel must find what real happiness means for herself.
What starts as a simple love story is anything but, and the beautiful, sometimes painful, unraveling is wonderfully eye-catching and emotional. Director Daniel Minahan drapes his romantic melodrama in rich period details, soaking in the pastel greens, blues, and yellows of mid-century America with all the bright gleam and polish of a new home Julius can’t stand and Muriel finds suffocating. Lee’s dream is a wholesome vision for his family, but its requirement for conformity does not allow for Julius and Muriel’s true identities.
Screenwriter Bryce Kass, who adapted Shannon Pufahl’s novel of the same title, brings together the high-stakes experiences of two lost souls trying to find themselves in parallel storylines, carefully building suspense for each character as the film reaches its tearful climax. Edgar-Jones excels in a career-best performance, channeling a glamorous young Elizabeth Taylor (complete with hair, makeup, and costumes) as she navigates her forbidden burning desires and sexuality. Brooding yet equally handsome, Elordi seems modeled after James Dean and Montgomery Clift, a young man disappointed in the hand life has dealt him until he meets the right person. As love interests, both Calva and Calle are smoldering presences operating on different intensities that awaken their partners’ interest. The movie feels electric when these characters connect, and their actors’ performances let sparks fly freely until reality and guilt intrude.
In “Meet the Barbarians,” Julie Delpy stars and directs a humanitarian comedy about loving thy neighbor even if they’re from a different country. Co-written by Delpy, Matthieu Rumani, Nicolas Slomka, and Lea Domenech, “Meet the Barbarians” opens in a small town in the French countryside as it prepares to welcome refugees from Ukraine. In a bit of a bureaucratic mixup and the high demand for Ukrainian refugees from other kindly communities, the town receives a family from Syria instead. Chaos ensues as the new family faces various forms of racism, xenophobia, and prejudice from various members of the village while others, like Delpy’s well-meaning teacher, try desperately to help this family make a new home for themselves.
“Meet the Barbarians” takes on similar themes to Ken Loach’s latest film, “The Old Oak,” but with a much more comedic approach. Even Delpy gets a few scenes of physical comedy on her bike and struggles with a video camera. Much of the jokes are good-natured in spirit, like how Delpy’s father, Albert, plays a farmer with a funny sense of humor and commentary who is among the first to lend a welcoming hand to the refugees, or how the Syrian grandfather bridges cultural differences through food. At times, the movie does turn serious, like when racist nationalists break up a party or the Syrian family finds hateful graffiti when they arrive at their new home. Most events in the film seem formulaic and predictable. Yet, the tonal whiplash can feel pretty jarring, interrupting the narrative flow of events and changing the movie’s mood on a painfully distracting pivot.
Delpy’s film confronts the hypocritical state of humanitarian aid, attitudes towards refugees in Europe, and husband-wife power dynamics and how it can affect women’s political voice. This is especially true in the character of Hervé (Laurent Lafitte), a working-class plumber who becomes the village villain shaped by disinformation and prejudice. He even goes so far as to align with right-wing extremists trying to scare the visiting family away from settling in town and forcing his views on his wife. This can also be seen in a less obvious way in the case of Anne (Sandrine Kiberlain), Julie’s best friend in town, as she’s pressured by her intolerant husband and angered by Julie’s inactions to oppose the family’s stay. Delpy wants to find a way to both entertain and critique; however, the result makes the film feel rather uneven, leaving the movie to take big swings between comedy scenes and dramatic beats with little warning.
Our next movie takes us to a near future where test results now match soulmates in William Bridges’s drama “All of You.” Simon (Brett Goldstein) and Laura (Imogen Poots) are longtime friends with long-held feelings for each other, but only Laura wants to take the futuristic test that would reveal her one true love. Simon is an old-fashioned romantic who gives her the money for the test, hoping it will confirm their love. Instead, the results point Laura in the direction of Lukas (Steven Cree), and the pair marry and have a child, sharing the life Simon once thought he might have with Laura. Instead, he dates other women–including Jenna Coleman of “Doctor Who” and Zawe Ashton from “The Marvels”–to get over Laura. Still, as the pair keep finding themselves in each other’s arms over the years, they are left with the messy question of “what if?” and wonder if perhaps the test was wrong after all.
Co-written by Bridges and Goldstein, “All of You” acts like an extension of their previous TV collaboration, “Soulmates,” which also explores various couples’ experiences of having an algorithm choose one’s destiny. This time, the story moves through years and years of the couple’s lives, zipping past one milestone after another, stopping only briefly for the moments the two share passionate exchanges and stolen glances. “All of You” has a sleek quality to its visual style to enhance its futuristic settings; even when the characters steal shared time together surrounded by nature, their hotel rooms look different enough to put some decades between our present and then. However, the narrative timeline can feel like a blur when characters exit a screen and re-enter several years later, causing a bit of confusion along the way.
Simon’s predicament as the man who doesn’t want to let technology dictate his life’s choices feels fully realized in the film, but Laura’s mercurial actions–initiating an affair, then walking it back, insisting on more trips together but leaving him whenever she gets nervous–appear underdeveloped in comparison, flattening her character into something of a “runaway date” trope.
While not every aspect of the narrative worked for me, both Goldstein and Poots share enough steamy chemistry to keep their characters’ flame for each other burning throughout the film. Their moments together crackle with sparks as they share childish jokes in fancy restaurants, sneaking away like teenagers for another forbidden tryst, and yes, steeling themselves for another heartbreaking goodbye. Even if we could rid the world of terrible dating apps in exchange for a test to show you your soulmate, the film warns its viewers that some of life’s answers can’t be found online or through an algorithm. Sometimes, you just have to live life to find your own.