Zola

So now we have come to the point were we are making movies based on a Twitter feed?

No shade being thrown here, as this movie proves a good story is a good story and this was a good story so I give props to the original source.

It's got suspense and its got humor and just a bunch of insane characters.

It's like Spring breakers only at 11.

Highly enjoyable.

Really interesting style used to tell a quite incredible, although mostly straightforward story. There is a deliberate undercurrent of unreliable narration that works really well. The dialogue and interplay are somewhat realistic but there is just enough background surrealism to give the film a dreamy, unreality feel. Acting is great and the powerplay and character dynamics are totally believed.

Zola is pure, uncut black market Florida. Like Sprinbreakers or Florida Project, it IS the state incarnate - or at least what's so endlessly scrollable about it). It's also a riotous funny dark comedy about how uncanny and gross the sex work world is (visa vi Backpage and so on), but also how black women always seem to have to come to the emotional and physical rescue of white women. And ironically as much as I love Paige and Keough's performances here (the latter sounding like she listened/watched a lot of Nikki Minaj's Anaconda song and or video, a fully sincere compliment), Braun - Greg from Succession, a true treasure at playing dumb and awkward, and Colman Domino's X (and his going between two accents just ::chefs kiss::) are stunning in their perfection of identifying an authenticity of these people. That's the key here: as wild as this gets, we always believe the people... at least as far as Zola's oh maybe 85-90% reliable narrator takes us.

I do wonder if this will have the same punch once the surprise wears off on a repeat viewing, but for now I can bask in the glow of this magnificently directed and truly modern comic exploitation yarn. The secret MVPs here though are the background detail players, like the two kids repeating the same basketball moves on the balcony at the motel or the couple performing whatever the hell music that is in the hotel lobby when Zola comes storming in.

A recent release whose backstory is probably more interesting than the film which was made. Published as a Rolling Stone article from a series of tweets a little while back, a professional pole dancer (no stripping, please!) embarked w/a newly minted friend for a wild weekend in Florida to hit some poles, make some money & have a helluva good time to tell about. The mirth turns however when the new bae expects her to participate tricking in hotels along the sandy strip w/a menacing pimp & her doofus of a boyfriend watch on. Starring Taylour Paige (from the also recent Boogie) & Riley Keough (Elvis Presley's granddaughter) as the mismatched ladies of the night, the film gets a lot of mileage from its premise which only flounders when things get a bit too real for the startled Paige who stays out of the action for the most part, only to step up when she feels Keough is selling herself (sorry!) too short. Also starring the mercurial Coleman Domingo as the pimp, Nicholas Braun (currently on HBO's Succession) as the dimwitted beau & Jason Mitchell (Easy E from Straight Outta Compton) as a Florida denizen who tries to make a move on Keough (who is making a solid career playing character roles in indie films, remember her as the pig girl in Magic Mike?).

This movie is fun and the aesthetic choices were bold and always interesting. On top of that, the performances from the two leads were great and altogether believable. But what was the purpose of this film and what did it have to say? It goes at a break neck speed for 80 minutes and then just stops- there really is no pacing or story arc. Like the social media cycle it follows, we wont remember this story after very long.