‘Nowhere to Lay My Eyes’ (2026; Dir. Hong Sangsoo)
If Hong Sangsoo doesn’t have two films at the New York Film Festival, then is it actually the New York Film Festival? Following last year’s single selection “What Does that Nature Say to You” and consecutive two-fers from 2021-2024 the prolific South Korean auteur returns with two more in the Main Slate, including the modest yet feisty “Nowhere to Lay My Eyes.” Deploying a sturdy stock company of reliable collaborators—especially Hong’s real-life partner, Kim Min-hee—“Nowhere” deftly conveys inter-generational disappointment and familial misunderstanding, mostly over heavily-liquid meals.
Sanghee (Kim) works full time at a food conglomerate but her true love is documentary filmmaking, a hobby that her mom (Choi Myung-gil) can’t seem to fathom. Booze greases the wheels of many a Hong narrative, and “Nowhere” carries that torch, particularly when an imbibing Sanghee bonds and battles (“What do I call you?”) with her mom’s smarmy new partner (Kwon Hae-hyo). Ultimately Sanghee reverts to a familiar mean of detachment from her family—moms just don’t understand—which amounts to a blessing. An added bonus: Sanghee’s pseudo-sister-in-law is a fan of her work, helping to offset mom’s indifference to her daughter’s passion.
Even at 72 minutes, “Nowhere” is far from a breezy sit, as the family grudges unfurl, spike and wither, like the small flower Sanghee so admires. Recalling the fussy artists and resilient, full-of-life drinkers in Hong’s “The Novelist’s Film” (2022), “Nowhere” harbors no treacly sentimentalism for the creative side-hustler or the frustrated matriarch. Instead, Hong imitates Kim’s fictional filmmaker (and Ozu), documenting at a slight remove the universal struggle to connect. And, in “Nowhere” the sense of alienation is both totally relatable and eternally annoying.
Grade: B
“Nowhere to Lay My Eyes,” had its North American premiere at the New York Film Festival. Follow online for scheduled screenings.
‘Everything Else is Noise’ (2026; Dir. Nicolás Pereda)
Not to be confused with Alex Ross’ authoritative doorstopper “The Rest is Noise”—a gigantic biography of twentieth-century classical music—Mexican filmmaker Nicolás Pereda’s “Everything Else is Noise” slims down the scope into a bitesize. At a mere seventy minutes, “Everything” is a charmingly droll, compact chamber piece. The film weaves, rather than marching or preaching forward. Centered around three women composers, “Everything” spotlights the trio of Tere (Teresita Sánchez), Rosa (Rosa Estela Juárez Vargas) and Luisa (Luisa Pardo, a wicked treat). Lying, groaning tricksters, Rosa and her daughter Luisa especially act out if only to please their willing audience of three.
Played out over the course of a single day, “Everything” starts in Rosa’s apartment and stays there, ending with an awkward, candlelit family dinner. Tere borrows Rosa’s place because she accepted an interview offer that her husband (who we never meet) insisted she it’s not right for her “at this point in her career.” The bumbling television crew of two contests with barking dogs, finicky neighbors and, most enjoyably, the sly provocations of the fierce female friends. Luisa, most of all, mirrors the edgy, atonal mood of “Everything,” which volleys from melancholy to silly and lands somewhere between nostalgia and pessimism.
What Made You Want to Be a Composer?
The men here aren’t all fools, exactly, just predictable and meek. Luisa refuses to give her number to the flirting, insecure cameraman (“Find me on Instagram”) and bets with Rosa (her mother) that, whenever she sees her dad again, he’ll make the same comment as he always does, related to a “percussion and voice” symphony that premiered twenty years earlier. Rosa, turning herself from host to subject, has her own fun, concocting a fictional story about her unique sense of smell, in response to the trite question of “What made you want to become a composer?”
Sure enough, Luisa’s dad/Rosa’s ex shows up at night (during a blackout), and the star-struck journalist asks none of the pat, perfunctory questions that he aimed at Tere or Rosa. Packed into a tight kitchen, Luisa and Rosa eavesdrop and laugh hysterically at the obsequious interviewer, providing a welcome break from their extended mother/daughter quarrel. Pereda’s final shot of these two cackling sums up their frustration and resilient pragmatism, signaling to what they’ll have to continue to put up with in the injustices of such a “male-dominated industry,” turning the shrill, everyday noise into chaotic, personal music.
Grade: B
“Everything Else is Noise,” had its U.S. premiere at the New York Film Festival. Follow the festival’s web site for updated screening times.
