Palestinian Tawfeek Barhom directed, wrote and co-stars in the 13-minute drama, which is a co-production between Palestine, France and Greece. The film also stars Ashraf Barhom.
“I’m Glad You’re Dead Now”
Courtesy of Tawfeek Barhom, Kidam, Foss Productions
The story follows two brothers who return to the island of their childhood, where hidden tensions and long-buried secrets force them to confront a haunting past that binds them together.
Phoenix said, “This is a film that confronts memory, trauma, and reconciliation in a way that feels urgent and necessary today. I’m proud to be part of its future.”
Mara added, “From the moment I saw ‘I’m Glad You’re Dead Now,’ its emotional weight and restrained power stayed with me. I am honored to support Tawfeek’s vision and the film’s continuing journey.”
Barhom said, “I am deeply moved that Rooney Mara and Joaquin Phoenix have chosen to stand with this film and its story. Their belief honors the film’s spirit, and their creative support will be invaluable as we take ‘I’m Glad You’re Dead Now’ to wider audiences.”
The producers said Phoenix and Mara will “participate in upcoming press, festival introductions, and strategic collaborations to ensure the film’s continued impact and reach.”
The film is co-produced by France’s Kidam and Greece’s Foss Productions. Kidam is best known for “Zero F**** Given” (Critics’ Week, Cannes, 2021), starring Adèle Exarchopoulos. Foss Productions has produced or co-produced many short and feature films, such as “Suntan,” “Pity” and “Echoes of the Past.”
The producers are Tawfeek Barhom, Akis Polizos, Stylianos Kotionis and Alexandre Perrier.
The first gay couple ever to appear on American television dates back to 1975 — in Norman Lear’s groundbreaking and highly controversial sitcom Hot I Baltimore.
Back then, featuring an LGBTQ+ couple on national TV was considered horrifying, even shameful. Although it’s far more common nowadays to see LGBTQ+ characters represented in film and television, we still have a long way to go.
These days, we’re lucky to have such a diverse array of incredible gay and lesbian couples gracing our screens, both big and small. Let’s take a look at some of the most fabulous same-sex pairings represented in the media over the years.
Jack and Ennis – Brokeback Mountain
Brokeback Mountain was one of the first same-sex romance films to make it to the mainstream media. Back when the movie was in production, A-list celebrities turned down the leading roles of Jack and Ennis right and left. Back then, the idea of a gay gay love story was so taboo in Hollywood that actors like Leonardo DiCaprio and Mark Wahlberg were quick to say “no” because they were terrified that the world would think they were gay and their career would be over.
It looks like it was their loss, though, since the 2005 film was an Oscar-winning triumph. The roles were given to Jake Gyllenhall and Heath Ledger, respectively. Gyllenhall and Ledger play Wyoming cowboys caught up in a 20-year-long forbidden romance.
Despite their undying love for each other — Jack famously tells Ennis, “I wish I knew how to quit you!” — they’re held back by spousal duties and the restrictive social norms of the time.
Ronit and Esti – Disobedience
Rachel McAdams and Rachel Weisz play forbidden lovers in this gut wrenching 2018 film. Esti (McAdams) and Ronit (Weisz) seem to have all the odds stacked against them. Set in an Orthodox Jewish community, the highly religious standards make it just about impossible for the two to express their passions. But gloriously, they find a way.
In private, when no one’s watching, Esti and Ronit are able to act on their years of pent-up emotions.
Grab a box of tissues for this one. Disobedience is a total tear-jerker.
Carol and Therese – Carol
This 2015 film captures the sizzling love affair between Therese (Rooney Mara) and Carol (Cate Blanchette.) While the film is a stunning visual masterpiece, the snowy Manhattan backdrop and lush mid-century decor pale in comparison to Mara and Blanchette’s on-screen chemistry. In the film, our leading ladies Therese and Carol must keep their love affair a secret because Carol has a daughter and is going through a tough divorce. Their forbidden romance is constantly disrupted by Carol’s suspicious husband, a private detective, and … you guessed it … the constricting social norms of the 1950s.
Elio and Oliver – Call Me By Your Name
Call Me By Your Name is an exquisite love story that’s set “Somewhere in Northern Italy.” Based on the novel by Andre Aciman, the 2017 film put Timothee Chalamet on the map and launched him into the stratosphere.
What separates Call Me By Your Name from the other films listed is that there’s no bloodthirsty antagonist determined to tear Elio and Oliver apart. In fact, the only people preventing Elio and Oliver from living happily ever after are… Elio and Oliver.
Since there’s no evil force lurking in the corners, Call Me By Your Name unspools like a sun-dappled fantasy. Their romance is met with nothing but support from friends and family.
Due to the film’s lack of obstacles, a handful of critics have labeled this story unrealistic. It doesn’t have the many hurdles that same-sex love interests usually face, both in real life and in media portrayals.
Yet author Aciman says this is very much intentional. Quoting Aristotle, he said of Call Me By Your Name: “Art is not about what happens, but about what should, and ought to happen.”
Nicky Nicholls and Lorna Morello – Orange is The New Black
Orange is The New Black made waves — seismic waves — when it premiered on Netflix in 2013. The series is groundbreaking both for its diversity and its depiction of an array of lesbian relationships.
While Piper and Alex are Orange’s primary couple, many fans found themselves gravitating more towards the second-tier couple, Nicky Nicholls and Lorna Morello.
Played by Natasha Lyonne and Yael Stone, respectively, the frisson between these two is enough to set fire to Litchfield Prison. What starts out as a casual friend-with-benefits deal eventually grows into one of the most heartbreaking romances on television.
Blaine and Kurt – Glee
Kurt Hummel went through hell and back during the first handful of seasons on Glee. As the only openly gay kid in his closed-minded Ohio-based high school, he bore the brunt of constant torment from his peers.
Just when he was at his lowest point, Blaine (Darren Criss) waltzed in to flip Kurt’s life upside down once and for all. It was a heartwarming change of pace for Kurt, who had spent his whole life on the outside looking in.
Santana and Brittany – Glee
Initially, Santana and Brittany’s liaison was played off as a joke. But as the series evolved, so did their relationship. The pair went on to become one of the most popular couples on Glee.
Tweek and Craig – South Park
Tweek and Craig, South ParkComedy Central
When we hear the term South Park, the word “progressive” doesn’t immediately spring to mind. After all, the animated series is famous for its shock humor and toilet jokes. This makes it all the more amusing that the Mountain Town series has one of the hottest LGBTQ couples on TV.
The romance between Tweek and Craig was borne out of fan service. Ever since they appeared in a 1998 episode titled “Tweek and Craig,” some starry-eyed fans of the show had been “shipping” these fictional characters.
This did not go unnoticed by creators Trey Parker and Matt Stone, who decided to respond by making Tweek and Craig a “canon” pair.
Cam and Mitchell – Modern Family
It’s safe to say that Modern Family wouldn’t be the same without Cam and Mitchell. Their comedic charm brings so much wit to the ABC sitcom, and many regard the pair as fan favorites. Despite having conflicting personalities, their differences only seem to strengthen their bond.
Patrick and David – Schitt’s Creek
Schitt’s Creek’s David and Patrick have the perfect relationship. From the beginning, it’s been nothing but smooth sailing for these two. Their lack of drama is quite refreshing for LGTBQ+ couples, who are mostly represented in the media through a tragic lens. And while there’s certainly a place for that, it’s nice to see a breezy gay couple getting on with their lives together.
One of the cutest moments in TV history was when Patrick proposed to David. Instead of a typical engagement ring, Patrick proposed with four rings — typical of what David usually wears.
They say, “To love them is to know them.” Based on Patrick’s four-ring proposal, he certainly knows David!
Before demonstrating himself to be one of Mexico’s most original and exciting new filmmaking talents, Alonso Ruizpalacios washed dishes in a bustling big-city kitchen. That experience informs every second of the “Museo” director’s fourth feature, “La Cocina,” a thrilling in-spirit adaptation of Arnold Wesker’s 1957 play “The Kitchen,” transposed from midcentury London to modern-day New York.
A chaotic symphony of nearly two dozen characters, this black-and-white indie confection (garnished with sparing touches of color) mixes biting social critique with stylistic bravura. The setting is in the guts of a high-volume midtown Manhattan restaurant called The Grill — a hectic pressure cooker where personal and professional concerns come to a boil.
The food looks edible at best, and a lot less enticing after we’ve witnessed the commotion that goes into preparing it. In Ruizpalacios’ version, practically the entire staff — not Rooney Mara’s pregnant waitress, but the ones touching the food, at least — are immigrants caught between the proverbial frying pan (sweating into their orders amid the midday rush) and the fire (of losing their work status, which exposes them to the risk of deportation).
Wesker would have approved of Ruizpalacios’ changes. As the left-leaning playwright explained at the time: “The world might have been a stage for Shakespeare but to me it is a kitchen, where people come and go and cannot stay long enough to understand each other, and friendships, loves and enmities are forgotten as quickly as they are made.”
The Mexican writer-director shares Wesker’s solidarity-minded admiration for the soldiers of food service, taking an immersive approach to their work. “La Cocina” thrusts us into the trenches, while updating the issues that threaten to derail another chaotic day in the operation — from the waitress weighing whether to abort to an investigation into roughly $800 missing from the till (almost exactly the cost of the procedure).
Ruizpalacios actually opens the film far from 49th Street, where rats eat the leftovers of yesterday’s slop. There’s a dreamy, slightly amateurish quality to the slow-motion prologue, which follows Estela (Anna Diaz), a young Mexican immigrant with experience in a Michelin-starred restaurant, as she makes the pilgrimage to this glamorously located but otherwise unremarkable establishment to interview for a job.
It’s a logical way in — not unlike the “Mad Men” pilot, which followed inexperienced Peggy into a daunting workplace environment, letting audiences learn the ropes alongside the new girl. Here, Estela serves as our guide, then moves to the background. She knows to drop the name of family friend Pedro (Raúl Briones), who preps poultry dishes all day at The Grill. That strategy gets her the job, even if Pedro himself is on thin ice, three strikes away from being fired.
He shows up late for work and quickly becomes the primary suspect in the register robbery — an invention that serves to exposing prejudices at play in the workplace. Ruizpalacios toys with audiences’ assumptions as well (we can’t help but wonder who stole the money), selectively revealing certain key details — like the fact that Pedro and Mara’s character, Julia, are a couple. Come to find, she’s carrying his child.
At 139 minutes, the movie takes its time, gradually building toward the lunchtime surge. In the quiet before the storm, the lovers stress about non-work things. Using a special ingredient Estela brought from Mexico, Pedro whips up a sandwich as a declaration of his love for Julia. She repays him with a quickie in the walk-in fridge.
Though Briones has the showier part, Julia asserts a disproportionate power over Pedro: It’s ultimately her decision whether to keep the baby, and tied up in that choice is the fate of their relationship and his own visa status. To the extent that this kitchen serves as a microcosm through which to understand the world, “La Cocina” focuses viewers’ attention on just how much society exploits immigrant labor.
Julia and the other white women interact with the customers, but behind the swinging doors, American citizens are in the minority. Ruizpalacios layers all the different languages in one exhilarating montage, where we see the micro-dynamics that go into making this operation run. “Speak English!” bellows the aggro guy at the steak station, brandishing his knives like he’s ready to murder someone.
While the impatient diners (rarely seen) demand service, the line cooks shift into battle mode. The tension builds as the incoming orders accelerate, chattering away on a receipt printer Pedro comes to view as a personal enemy … until he snaps, triggered by a slur from one of the waitresses. We were warned, but who could have foreseen such an epic meltdown? Imagine “Network” anchor Howard Beale imploding in the bowels of a New York tourist trap. It’s equal parts hilarious and horrible: an over-the-top catharsis for anyone who ever punched the clock in a kitchen.
The way Ruizpalacios handles his ensemble — nearly 20 employees, ranging from tough-love manager Rashid (Oded Fehr) to the lowliest busboy — mirrors the energy of a boisterous, late-career Altman movie, even if DP Juan Pablo Ramírez’s crisp monochrome cinematography suggests something scrappier (more in line with the helmer’s indie debut, “Güeros”). Covering so many characters requires careful choreography, especially as the kitchen spirals out of control during the lunchtime surge.
At one point, a broken soda machine floods the premises, such that line cooks and servers alike are practically swimming to their stations. “La Cocina” confronts the craziness head-on as this industrial kitchen starts to feel like the galley of one of those Roman slave ships from “Ben-Hur.” If the United States is a melting pot, this is the furnace.
Double Oscar-nominee Rooney Mara is all wrapped up, literally, with her co-star Raúl Briones in her new film, La Cocina. In the movie, the English-language debut of Mexican director Alonso Ruizpalacios (A Cop Movie, Museo), Mara plays Julia, an American waitress working the high-stress lunch rush in the Manhattan restaurant The Grill, whose relationship with undocumented Mexican grill cook Pedro (Briones) is about to be put to the test.
The official posters for the film, exclusively revealed to The Hollywood Reporter, show the Women Talking and Girl With the Dragon Tattoo actress back-to-back with Briones, bound together by a seemingly unending ticker tape of lunch orders. In the bottom corner, a loose lobster appears to be making a break for freedom.
A second poster shows Mara cleaning the glass of the lobster tank while Briones looks on. Submerged inside the tank is a mini Statute of Liberty, symbolic of the (broken?) promise of the American dream for migrant workers like Pedro.
Adapted from Arnold Wesker’s 1957 stage classic The Kitchen, La Cocina will have its world premiere in competition at the Berlin Film Festival on Friday, Feb. 16. HanWay Films, Fifth Season and WME International are handling worldwide sales.
As “Women Talking” costume designer Quita Alfred was prepping for the critically-acclaimed film, she’d often send director Sarah Polley photos she’d come across of the so-called #cottagecore aesthetic.
“It was funny, like, ‘Oh, on page 72 on of Vogue magazine…’ and we laughed because, yes, it’s attractive in many ways, but what it represented to us was so very different,” she says.
The film — based on the 2018 Miriam Toews novel of the same name (and inspired by a true story) — chronicles eight women from two families across three generations, who hold a clandestine meeting in a barn hayloft and, upon the discovery that local women have been repeated victims of horrific crimes committed by the men in their unnamed religious colony (Mennonite in the book), deliberate whether to stay and fight or leave into a world completely foreign to them.
The women are illiterate (only boys can go to school), but share, debate, waver and decide while clad in Mennonite “plain dress.” The traditional puff-sleeve, cinched waist, midi-length A-line silhouette, often covered in floral prints, has now been translated — or co-opted, as fashion is wont to do — into glossy editorials, TikTok trends and this writer’s closet, under the guise of #cottagecore.
“We had a lot of conversations about that look, when in fact [the traditional dress] was meant to be repressive, as a form of submission,” says Alfred, “to remind the women of their submission to their God, to their men and their families — which was really ironic, then, when we would see the fashion spreads of all this beautiful ‘boho’ [styles.]”
Left to right: Mejal (Michelle McLeod), Greta (Sheila McCarthy), Neitje (Liv McNeil, back), Mariche (Jessie Buckley, front), Salome (Claire Foy), Autje (Kate Hallett, sitting on ground), Ona (Rooney Mara) and Agata (Judith Ivey) in the hayloft.
Photo: Michael Gibson/Courtesy of Orion Releasing LLC
Alfred grew up in Manitoba, Canada, home to various Mennonite communities for more than a century, so she had a foundational knowledge of them. Through her extensive historical research and outreach to people in (or who left) the community, she even amassed upwards of 500 authentic Mennonite women’s dresses (and men’s overalls), which outfitted background actors.
The concept of “plain dress” is to present oneself “modestly and with no superfluous prideful elements to your dress,” says Alfred. “Living simply — those dresses are made to make the wearer disappear, to negate the flesh, to take away temptation, in a sense, to remind them of their place, literally and figuratively.”
For the movie, Polley and cinematographer Luc Montpellier decided on an overarching “desaturated” tone and color palette, to further emphasize the conformity in the community, as well as the timelessness of the adversity and repression the women faced in a patriarchal environment. There’s a moment of surprise, when viewers realize the film takes place in 2010 and not the distant past.
“I’ve heard many people talk about the period feel of the film or the ‘period costumes,’ and I try to graciously, but still forcibly remind people these aren’t period costumes,” says Alfred. “These women really live like this, still to this day.”
Rooney, Ivey and Foy have a discussion with director Sarah Polley.
Photo: Michael Gibson/Courtesy of Orion Releasing LLC
Staying authentic to the ethos of plain dress did present a challenge to the costume designer in differentiating the characters, “so I divided the families into moods, rather than personalities,” says Alfred.
In the Friesen family, fiery Salome (Claire Foy) maintains her resolute stance to fight for the future of her children. Pregnant, reflective Ona (Rooney Mara) carefully considers the options and asks the important questions. Matriarch Agata (Judith Ivey) looks out for the brood, while young niece Neitje (Liv McNeil) amuses herself as the adults talk.
“In my mind, their mood and their their temperaments were leaning towards intellect, rather than instinct,” says Alfred,” so for them, I chose pure colors — blues and purples — and small repeating patterns and leading lines. I use the word ‘electric’ a lot; I don’t know why that came to me, but it’s busy and forward moving.”
The Loewen family counters, with Mariche (Jesse Buckley, “The Lost Daughter“) pushing to stay in the only home she knows, despite her abusive daily reality. Her teen daughter Autje (Kate Hallett) plays with Neitje in the rafters, while quietly rebellious younger sister Mejal (Michelle McLeod) struggles to be heard, in between taking puffs of her cigarette.
“In my mind, their temperaments were more their reactions, and their temperaments were more leaning towards the instinctive, rather than the intellectual,” says Alfred. “So for them, I chose more colors found directly in nature, like what we associate with with foliage and leaves: browns and greens and colors like that. Their patterns were much more swirling and murky — except for Mejal, who was quite expressive. She’s feisty, and she had a lot to say.”
Augustus (Ben Whishaw, left) documents the meeting, as the women are not allowed to learn to read or write.
Photo: Michael Gibson/Courtesy of Orion Releasing LLC
Alfred also used her connections and resourcefulness to authentically source the fabrics for the custom-made dresses for the lead cast.
Scroll to Continue
“There are ordinary fabric stores [in southern Manitoba] that have whole private sections that are only accessible to Hutterite and Mennonite colonies,” says Alfred, explaining that Mennonite families will go in to buy entire bolts of the same fabric to make identical dresses for entire families.
But not just anyone can access the sequestered sides of these fabric stores.
“In true Manitoba fashion, anybody’s two degrees of separation from you,” says Alfred. “I called a colleague, who called her mom, who had a friend, who called the guy. Then, I had worked with somebody who worked at the other side of the store in Winnipeg, who called the man that ran the Mennonite colony side.” Her helpful contacts also referred her to artisans who helped with building costumes for the film.
‘I bought the fabric quite early with her in mind because it spoke to me of things going on under the surface,’ says Alfred, about the pattern on Mariche’s (far right) dress.
Photo: Michael Gibson/Courtesy of Orion Releasing LLC
The expressive prints, rich colors and even sheens of each characters’ dresses illuminate or darken, concordant with the impassioned discourse peaking and plummeting, as nightfall — when the colony’s men return from town — forebodingly approaches.
“That was Luc’s beautiful lighting that helped me achieve that,” says Alfred, who sent Montpellier fabric samples for lighting tests during prep. She also used her phone to desaturate the lighting up to 75% to determine the ideal composite of textures.
Alfred points out that all the dresses, in true Mennonite fashion, are made from polyester, with the exception of low-key nonconformist and chainsmoker Mejal: Her standout brown-toned, hibiscus-printed dress, with a square neckline, is actually rayon — from the public side of the fabric store.
“Because it was a beautiful pattern,” says Alfred, of making the exception. “As simple as that.”
The construction of the dresses, however, wasn’t so simple. The subtly distinctive details on the bodices — the precise pleating, delicate ruching and paneling — took the costume team 40 hours per look.
Flinty elder Scarface Janz (Frances McDormand, below) — who steadfastly refuses to leave — has the most elaborate dress of them all.
Scarface Janz (Frances McDormand).
Photo: Michael Gibson/Courtesy of Orion Releasing LLC
“In our minds, she was a seamstress, so I wanted her details to be quite fussy, to show a little bit of pridefulness,” says Alfred, who illustrated the trait through one of the very few ways Janz could express it. “Her bodices were quite fussy; a lot of details with small patterns and precise angles.”
Out of respect for the Mennonite culture and for character authenticity, Alfred avoided taking creative license in the costumes. However, she did incorporate one functional liberty, which was suggested by McDormand, who also produced the film: adding pockets. McDormand had previously worn a garment with a Shaker pocket, which dates back centuries, and suggested the idea. The principle fits into the culture of the story.
“The Shakers are very practical people,” says Alfred. “We made these pockets that are like a teardrop shape, with a tie around the waist.”
The pockets also proved extremely functional for filming needs, especially during pandemic.
“The cast needed to look after their own masks. We put mic packs in the pockets. The actors puts their sides in them,” says Alfred. “Fran’s idea was brilliant, practical and fantastic. In true Mennonite fashion in my experience. Problem solved, simply.”
‘Women Talking’ opens in select theaters, Friday, Dec. 23, 2022 and theaters everywhere on Friday, Jan. 27, 2023.
