XX movie review & film summary (2017)

While each segment has its moments, though, none of them are completely satisfying, and only one of them truly comes close to hitting its intended target. There may be a vague through line about upending the traditional female roles of mother, wife and caretaker, but if “XX” is trying to make some sort of statement, it’s not doing so with much clarity or power.

Actually, the interstitials that serve as the film’s creepy connective tissue are the best parts of all. The work of Mexican stop-motion animation artist Sofia Carrillo, they feature disturbing images of doll parts moving about on their own in a dilapidated mansion. Hands crawl around, eyes blink open and closed and moths flutter menacingly. Eventually, it’s clear that they don’t have much to do with the shorts themselves, but they’re vividly tactile and beautifully eerie.

We begin with “The Box” from director Jovanka Vuckovic, based on a short story by Jack Ketchum. A mother (Natalie Brown) takes her young son (Peter DaCunha) and daughter (Peyton Kennedy) into Manhattan for a day of fun just before Christmas. On the train ride home, the boy takes a peek inside a shiny, red gift box a fellow passenger is holding; what he sees quietly stuns him. Once they return to their suburban idyll, he refuses to eat, politely insisting he’s not hungry—but whatever is eating him slowly spreads throughout the family. Vuckovic’s film is moody and filled with dread, and she sharply depicts the ways in which a husband and wife can be at odds with each other over how to handle a family crisis. But “The Box” ultimately leaves you hanging, despite spelling out in narration the mother’s obvious sense of loss and confusion.

Next up is the quirkiest and most ambitious of the four films in its contrast of tones. “The Birthday Party” from Annie Clark—better known as the musician St. Vincent—stars the always-lovely Melanie Lynskey as a harried mother named Mary. She thinks she’s planned the perfect birthday party for her 7-year-old daughter (Sanai Victoria). But something is clearly off, despite the chic, immaculate nature of Mary’s midcentury-modern home. Her brooding nanny (Sheila Vand) puts her further on edge with her mere presence. But then, making matters significantly worse, Mary finds her husband dead in his study—and Clark plays it all as high farce. As Mary scurries to hide the body, Clark amps up the dark comedy within this surreal situation with jump scares and her own overbearing score. It’s a nightmarish vision of domestic comfort full of overbearing neighbors and an unsettling use of slow motion. But while it’s amusing here and there, it never quite clicks.

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