Critic Reviews

Brilliantly acted, shot with precision and style, this is a deconstruction of the ‘nuclear family’ that cries out for a second or third viewing.

Larraín’s Ema will grate some. Even so, it’s one of the most ambitious and visually stunning films of the year.

Ema is a vibrantly loud movie, propelled by dance and lust, and a celebration of sexuality like no other film before it. It is a fountain of energy, both bewitching and terrifying all at once.

In the film, the literal union of bodies is the only logical means of conveying the reestablishment of emotional bonds.

Ema doesn’t always dance to a clear or recognizable beat, but anybody willing to get on its wavelength will be rewarded with one of the year’s most dynamic and electrifying films.

While I confess that I found Ema to be a notch down on his best work, it’s still hugely distinctive and daring and may well be a grower.

Larraín’s odd little film dances to the beat of its own drum, that’s for certain. But it does pay off in a wholly satisfying way.

Like some of the more memorable films at Toronto this year, Ema leaves you wondering what exactly you just saw, and hoping it won’t be too long before you see it again.

It's the exuberant yin to the stately yang of Jackie Kennedy biopic Jackie, Larrain’s last film, and it’s full of the pheromones of sexual discovery and the piss and vinegar of toxic relationships.

Following Jackie, Pablo Larraín offers another powerful examination of grief, capturing all of the confusing and fascinating layers of human relationships. Despite the heavy subject matter, it’s intoxicating.