Clint (Willem Dafoe!) operates a bar in the remotest corner of Siberia, where he lives a life of self-imposed exile, barely capable of communicating with most of his patrons. Lusting after a pregnant flasher as her nana chatters away unintelligibly is one of the film’s kinder moments. Even after the pack dogs that once led him become his staunchest followers, one can’t help but notice the regret that haunts every one of Clint’s moves. If one needs to question Clint’s sudden decision to pack up shop to take a journey on a dogsled, chances are a picture steeped in the kind of logic that could only exist inside Clint’s head isn’t the picture for you. He’s a man looking to reclaim his soul by coming to terms with his dreams, and the transitions from one state of fantasy to another are quite jarringly effective: a trip down some cellar steps becomes a nightmare slide down a mountainside, while a man squandering his pocket change on video slots is suddenly (deservedly?) attacked by a marauding bear. As with any great experimental artist, the further director/King of New York Abel Ferrara moves from the neighborhood, the closer he gets to home. Watch it wherever finer films are downloadable. (2021) — Scott Marks
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