jayakumarjrain

Anna (2019) is Luc Besson's stylish return to the femme fatale genre he helped define, most notably with La Femme Nikita and Lucy. Anchored by model-turned-actress Sasha Luss in the titular role, the film blends espionage thrills with glossy violence, high fashion, and twisting timelines - though not always seamlessly.

Set in Cold War-era Russia and Europe, Anna follows a young woman plucked from poverty to become a KGB assassin, only to find herself entangled in a web of manipulation between Russian and American intelligence agencies. As the narrative shifts back and forth in time, secrets are revealed in layers - a storytelling device that is clever in theory but becomes overly reliant on last-minute rug-pulling.

Sasha Luss brings icy elegance to Anna, though her emotional range is limited compared to the actors around her. Helen Mirren is delightfully brutal as her handler Olga, delivering deadpan lines and hard stares with scene-stealing ease. Cillian Murphy and Luke Evans bring the expected intrigue and charm as the men orbiting her world of lies.

The film's action sequences - particularly a restaurant shootout that echoes John Wick-style choreography - are brutal, precise, and exhilarating. But where Anna falters is in its depth. Besson's fascination with beautiful, dangerous women is once again on full display, but it feels more like a polished echo than an evolution.

Anna is sleek, slick, and intermittently thrilling, but ultimately lacks the emotional weight or originality to elevate it beyond genre déjà vu. It's a glossy ride through a familiar world of espionage, made watchable by Mirren's dry firepower and Besson's eye for stylish mayhem.

Review written by artist jayakumar jrain.

Drifting Flowers, Flowing Days (2023) Dir. Yutaka Tsunemachi

A coming-of-age ensemble drama that vividly depicts the emotional turmoil of youth amid subtle everyday changes and various encounters with death, during the transition from the Heisei to Reiwa era.

The quiet performances and the atmosphere of the town were really nice, and Kisetsu Fujiwara looked great in workwear it's the kind of film I usually like... but I just couldn't really connect emotionally with the main character, Miyajima.

The story felt choppy and under-explained, the conversations didn't really flow, he didn't even know his own bank balance. On top of that he's dull, broke, and not the least bit heart-throbbing.

But well... maybe not being able to put into words why you like something is a kind of love, too.

Review written by artist jayakumar jrain.

Love in the Afternoon (1957) is a delicate waltz between innocence and experience, wrapped in Parisian charm and old-Hollywood elegance. Directed by the legendary Billy Wilder, this romantic comedy pairs the youthful radiance of Audrey Hepburn with the world-weariness of Gary Cooper - two souls from wildly different worlds colliding in a city built for romance.

Hepburn plays Ariane, a cello student and daughter of a private detective, who becomes intrigued by the romantic escapades of her father's latest client - a suave American playboy named Frank Flannagan. When circumstances pull her into Flannagan's orbit, she pretends to be a mysterious femme fatale with countless lovers, turning the tables on the notorious heartbreaker.

What follows is a bittersweet game of make-believe, where flirtation masks vulnerability and fantasy teeters on the edge of heartbreak. Hepburn is luminous - playful, witty, and heartbreakingly sincere. Cooper, though older than ideal for the role, brings a subtle melancholic charm, portraying a man slowly realizing that real connection has eluded him for far too long.

Wilder's direction is light as air but grounded in real emotion. He avoids cliché, letting the romance simmer in glances, pauses, and quiet Parisian evenings. The film never shouts its feelings - it whispers them with class and grace.

"I never said I was a lady. I never pretended to be anything else."

Love in the Afternoon is a story of longing and disguise, of love found in unexpected places - a vintage fairytale with a touch of Parisian melancholy.

Review written by artist jayakumar jrain.