Spanish director Isabel Coixet hasn't posted to her food blog in the last couple of years, but read a few of her descriptive older posts and you quickly grasp why she calls herself “food obsessed.” The idea for Foodie Love, the new HBO Europe series that marks a first foray into television for the veteran director of films like Elisa & Marcela and My Life Without Me, came naturally to her. “For me, Foodie Love is a way to use all the years eating in the most incredible restaurants in the world, and also in the strangest places,” says the Barcelona-based Coixet, whose Miss Wasabi Films banner also produces. “I was convinced it would be something people would love.” The eight half-hour episodes of HBO Europe’s first Spanish drama began airing in Spain on Dec. 4 and will premiere across Europe on Christmas day. In Spain it’s already been nominated for two Feroz Awards — film and TV honors given annually by the Association of Cinematographic Reporters of Spain — for best dramatic series and best lead actress in a series. The story turns on two lonely 30-something professionals who find each other on a foodie app and begin meeting regularly at distinctive eateries. At first the characters, played by Spain’s Laia Costa and Argentina-born Guillermo Pfening, are just looking for companionship. “One of the things about foodie people is we really like to share. When you know a place and the food is amazing, you want to take people,” Coixet explains. “You feel very disappointed if they don’t like it.” “You can eat alone but it’s better if you share with someone.” Read the full story on The Hollywood Reporter. Photo credit Zoe Sala Coixet/ HBO España

With the first confirmed case of the coronavirus in Kittitas County last weekend and news that Seattle-area colleges have moved their classes online, is a community-wide quarantine next for us? If so, a positive attitude is going to be crucial. Especially if you have roommates. Experts are recommending this as well as preserving as normal a routine as possible and tackling pending projects. For me, that means my Netflix list. Here are five international films of very different genres to keep you busy in the case of a quarantine. Let your mind wander – even if you can't. "93 Days" In the "it could be worse" category, the Nigerian film "93 Days" offers a dramatic look at a group of doctors working against the clock to control a possible Ebola outbreak. From the very opening scene, soaring above the massive sprawl of Lagos, the film sets an uneasy tone, conveying the particular risk such a chaotic, impoverished, over-populated city would face. You may view Kittitas County with fresh eyes. Fans of the pandemic genre are going to appreciate this international installment, based on real events. It's a story for our times, if ever there was one. That, and the film's unique setting and international cast (including Danny Glover), keep it afloat, but be prepared for some cringe-worthy dialogues and heavy-handed use of a musical score more appropriate for a telenovela. "The Awakening of Motti Wolkenbruch" For lighter fare, try this Swiss film, whose title character has his life planned out for him. The only problem is that, as an Orthodox Jew, it's his mother's plan, as is the selection of his future wife. Motti decides to take matters into his own hands, embarking on an affair with a non-Jewish college classmate and reveling in the openness of the cosmopolitan Tel Aviv, where his rabbi sends him. Talking at times straight to camera, Joel Basman offers an affecting performance as the wide-eyed Motti, for whom every new experience – a party, a drink, sex – is a life-changing discovery and a step further away from his destiny and his family. But the biggest laughs, and maybe tears, of this heartwarming comedy - long-listed for this year's International Oscar - come from the over-the-top melodrama of his scheming mother, played by Inge Maux. "Okja" As with his current foreign-language phenomenon "Parasite," South Korea's Bong Joon-ho juxtaposes an upbeat look and tone with scathing social criticism and harsh (sur)realism in his 2017 film "Okja." The action takes place between New York City, where a disturbingly cheery CEO (Tilda Swinton) oversees a global project to breed "super-pigs," and Korea, where young girl Mija will go to any length to save her best friend, the sweet (and surprisingly realistic) super-pig Okja. When Okja is returned to New York, Mija follows him into a world of genetically mutated animals, vigilante rights activists and cynical corporate social responsibility campaigns. The gap between the haves and have nots is, as in other Bong works, vast. There's drama, high-speed action, terror and comedy, but the story is at its core a fable. This overlapping of genres makes for an uneven film, an ambitiousness also seen – but better controlled – in "Parasite." "Okja" is such a roller coaster of a viewing experience, with over-the-top performances by Swinton and Jake Gyllenhaal, that its message almost gets lost. As Mija, actress Seo-hyeon Ahn holds it all together, conveying a quiet yet powerful determination. "The Two Popes" Veterans Anthony Hopkins and Jonathon Pryce fully incarnate the conservative, scandal-ridden Pope Benedict and his critic and successor, progressive Pope Francis, in Brazilian director Fernando Meirelles' "The Two Popes." Inspired by real events, the script guesses at what some of the philosophical conversations must have been between the two men, as Benedict vets his outspoken critic. This character study is both insightful and unexpectedly humorous as the two opposites, each struggling with his own existential doubts, find their common ground. "The Two Popes" subtly prompts viewers to examine their own beliefs and reflect on questions of right versus wrong, change versus compromise, duty versus personal freedom, and more. It's entertaining enough that you might not notice how much it's making you think. "100 Meters" In this poignant and funny Spanish film, Manolo (Dani Rovira) responds to an out-of-the-blue Multiple Sclerosis diagnosis with grief and shock, then determination to complete a triathlon. He drags his pot-smoking father-in-law (Karra Elejalde), a one-time Tour de France competitor, along for the ride. Rovira and Elejalde are a frequent pairing in Spanish cinema, and they're perfectly matched here as the patient aiming to complete an Iron Man despite his failing health, and the trainer, quietly facing his own demons but roped in by his daughter to help. The journey ultimately proves cathartic for both men. "Don't be afraid, my friend," the MS patients tell each other. "You can't control everything," Manolo consoles his wife. Good advice in this era of global viruses, too. This article originally ran in The Daily Record. Click on the image below to access.

The actress and singer Jennifer Lopez posted a video last week on social media showing her son in quarantine – after serving up a crisp Perrier, he does a few tricks on his hoverboard then cannonballs into his backyard pool. The video came on the heels of headlines suggesting celebrities and the wealthy are getting privileged access to COVID-19 testing in this country. Reactions to Lopez's post encapsulated the disconnect between Americans' "business-as-usual" individualism versus our new #AloneTogether reality in collective social distancing. If you're a film fan, you also might have noticed how reminiscent Lopez's luxurious, manicured backyard was to the house and garden in this year's foreign-language hit "Parasite." In Korean director Bong Joon-ho's Oscar-winning film, the powerless patriarch of a destitute family explodes with resentment at his wealthy employer. It's a story of the malignity of wealth disparity and class conflict wrapped in a disconcerting package of satire and suspense. Its success came a year after Netflix's hit "Roma," Mexican director Alfonso Cuarón's quiet, black-and-white tale of an indigenous housemaid's daily life of caring for others before herself. In "Roma," the protagonist never transcends her social station and seems largely invisible to those around her. The star of "Roma," Yalitza Aparicio, the first indigenous woman ever nominated for a best actress Oscar, now dedicates her time as an advocate and activist on behalf of indigenous culture and domestic workers' rights in Mexico. Films can have a social impact. The kinds of films from abroad which American audiences have paid attention to over the years, I think, says a lot about where we are as a society in different eras, including this unpredictable one. Foreign Films in the US Foreign-language films had their heyday in the US in the 1960s, when a wave of European art movies broke from classic filmmaking styles and electrified buttoned-up, post-World War II audiences in the US with their audacity, intellectualism and, yes, sex. Italian neorealist films like “Open City” and "Bicycle Thieves," and experimental French New Wave movies like "The 400 Blows" and "Breathless," pre-dated the 1960s social upheaval in the US. Fellini, Truffaut, Bergman and Buñuel inspired Coppola, Kubrick, Altman and Scorsese, the "New Hollywood" directors of the 1970s. In the 1980s and 1990s, the nostalgic costume dramas and feel-good period romances US distributors imported en masse said as much about the world's historical self-searching post-Cold War as they did about Americans' growing insularity post-Vietnam. The films we watched from abroad – titles like "Cinema Paradiso," "The Postman" and "Like Water for Chocolate" – offered emotionally satisfying stories in gorgeous, historically idealized settings. There was nothing realistic about Roberto Benigni's concentration camp dramedy "Life is Beautiful," Jean-Pierre Jeunet's dreamy "Amélie" or Fernando Trueba's sexy romp "Belle Epoque." Our insularity only intensified post-9/11. The early 2000s were dominated by Asian action films like Ang Lee's "Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon" (still the top grossing foreign-language film here), Zhang Yimou's "Hero" and "Jet Li's Fearless." More recent box office hits from abroad have offered equally escapist genre fare like Guillermo del Toro's fantastical "Pan's Labyrinth" and Mexican family comedy "Instructions Not Included." The Death of Individualism? Which brings us to the tougher social critiques implicit in recent foreign-language hits like "Roma" and "Parasite." Are we starting to appreciate the message that society as a whole suffers when its members ignore, or even benefit from, vast inequalities? The coronavirus has brought that point front-and-center, showing us explicitly that the health of all directly affects the health of each of us. Americans pride ourselves on our individualism. But corona has reminded us that we all benefit from taking care of each other. Without the bravery and continued work of grocery store and hospital staffs, for example, our lives would already have ground to a halt. The virus is also reminding us of the value of specialized knowledge. In his 2017 book, "The Death of Expertise," Tom Nichols warned Americans about our increasing arrogance and narcissism in an age where the internet makes us feel we have as much knowledge as trained and educated experts. In a "postindustrial, information-oriented world where all citizens believe themselves to be experts on everything," we question our teachers, our doctors, our scientists. We elect a president with no prior political experience or knowledge. But in the age of corona, in turns out, we are also at the mercy of experts and specialists. We have to admit they know more than we do, to accept, as Nichols notes, that equal rights for all does not mean all opinions are equally right. Dr. Fauci, the infectious disease expert, could be the poster child for the "Rebirth of Expertise." If this virus brings about a social revolution, as people are suggesting, maybe it will involve a rekindling of humility and a reawakening of solidarity. This article originally appeared in The Daily Record. Click on the image below to access it online.

The premiere last week of "Hamilton" on Disney+ was nothing short of a cultural phenomenon. It's unusual for a film premiering on the small screen to generate quite so much attention across so many sectors of society. That kind of awareness is typically limited to theatrical releases. Obviously, the popularity of the original musical fueled the excitement, and the COVID lockdown has led to more home viewing in general. But so many have also found inspiration in the musical's empowering messages for people of color, immigrants and women. "Hamilton" may have gotten all the recent buzz, but there are plenty of lesser known streaming releases that invite us to consider other cultures, perspectives and ways of living. Homemade Released last week on Netflix, "Homemade" is a series of 17 international short films made during the COVID pandemic, offering a literal window into other lives -- real and imagined. The short films serve as an introduction to the filmmaking themes and approaches of some of the world's most acclaimed working directors. There's a fascinating range of storytelling styles on display. Still, you might find yourself picking and choosing. Some directors address the pandemic directly or just point a camera at their own families. Even in quarantine, it's really not that interesting to watch someone else's home movies (the exception is London-based Gurinder Chadha's fast-paced family diary, sweetly narrated by her kids). More engaging are the shorts that try to capture the emotional effects of this unique global experience, from affection and empathy to nostalgia, boredom, humor and even encroaching insanity. Watch the trailer for "Homemade." Italy's Paolo Sorrentino elicits the biggest laughs in his imagining of the Pope and the Queen of England quarantining together, gently ribbing and even flirting with each other. Chilean Pablo Larrain's simple set-up of an aging gentleman Skyping old lovers, trying to reignite a single flame before his time ends (all with his masked nurse sitting discretely in the background), is funny and poignant at once. A phone-shot thriller by Antonio Campos is haunting, while Chile's Sebastian Lelio stages a captivating home-set musical. French director Ladj Ly's teenage protagonist broadens his horizons by flying a drone around his multiethnic neighborhood, peering into neighbors' windows. It's the flight we may all have taken in our imaginations during the long days of lockdown. The Eddy Rapturous jazz fills every episode of this Paris-set series from creator Paul Thorne and four international director including Damien Chazelle ("Whiplash," "La La Land"). The series follows ex-pat jazz club owner and renowned musician Elliot Udo (André Holland) as he tries to solve the mystery behind the murder of his friend and business partner Farid (Tahar Rahim). From Eddy's tortured affair with the band's lead singer (played by "Cold War" star Joanna Kulig) to his complicated relationship with his troubled daughter, on an extended visit from New York, to the other band members' problems with love, addiction, money, loss and more, the characters all seem on the verge of unraveling. Their lives are messy but genuine – like the Paris they inhabit, where the Eiffel Tower is only suggestively glimpsed from afar. Their restlessness is underscored by the setting, the music and the handheld camera work, all reminiscent of 60s-era films. Some of the cast are professional musicians, not actors, and some of the music feels improvised, adding realism and artistry to this series. Caliphate Another Netflix series follows the parallel stories of two young Swedes recruited as ISIS brides. One is living in Syria and putting her life at risk as an informant to get out. The other is a teenager raised in a progressive Muslim family who is seduced into more radical beliefs. Nothing here is black and white – the ISIS recruiter is a sadistic charmer, while the lead detective, a Bosnian refugee as a child, keeps dangerously breaking rules to try to thwart an imminent terrorist attack on Swedish soil. Fast-paced and moody, "Caliphate" explores sides of Sweden you don't usually see on film. It broke records on demand in its home country, and regular cliffhangers will keep you clicking "Next Episode" right through the full first season. Adu This Spanish film isn't entirely successful in its attempt to weave together three different stories set in Africa, even if all three stories are compelling in their own ways with different takes on themes of immigration, borders and family. The film's namesake, Adu, is the real star – a 6-year-old boy from Cameroon on the run from poachers and traveling clandestinely and dangerously across several countries in West Africa. Adu is resilient and adorable, but his story is both tragic and, sadly, probably not so uncommon. It's rare to see some of these corners of Africa depicted on film. The setting and Adu's tale make this movie a worthwhile watch. This column originally ran in The Daily Record.

This semi-autobiographical drama will captivate Almodovar's fans and attract followers of Spain's two biggest film exports, Banderas and Cruz. But it's unlikely to bring the director many new or younger followers. Its natural audience, beyond existing fans, is people of a certain age who are susceptible to themes about aging, lost loves, and nostalgia for the past. Banderas, who won the best actor award at the Cannes Film Festival for his work in Pain and Glory, offers a subtle and vulnerable performance. He sports a look and mannerisms that are purposefully reminiscent of Almodovar's, although the director insists the film isn't entirely autobiographical (in interviews, he's talked about some of what was invented, including the heroin use). Cruz, in turn, explodes on screen in a role that may remind audiences of her Oscar-nominated performance in the director's 2006 Volver. Together with rising Spanish star Etxeandia and a memorable, understated scene with Argentina's Sbaraglia, the actors carry the movie, and their on-screen magnetism is impossible to deny. Fans will enjoy picking out cameos by the director's producer-brother, regular "chicas Almodovar" (Cecilia Roth, Julieta Serrano), and up-and-coming Spanish stars (like pop flamenco artist Rosalía, who sings in an opening scene), as well as spotting omnipresent literary and cinematic references. All this is intentional: Almodovar films blend together, with characters, storylines, scenes, settings, themes, and references mingling throughout his filmography, providing endless fodder for enthusiastic cinema fans and critics. So much repetition can get, well, a little repetitive after 20+ films, yet the director remains a darling of the international circuit, an icon at home in Spain, and a regular presence at Cannes, where Pain and Glory premiered to rave reviews. Read the full review at Common Sense Media .

There are some interesting ideas in this film, as well as solid acting and stunning cinematography, but this respected work from Spain is neither as original nor as shocking as it intends. Films shot entirely or, like Coven of Sisters, partially in the regional Basque language are still relatively uncommon, and the film portrays the Castilian Spaniards as contemptuous of the local language and culture. Yet this is not the first film to address the subject of local witch hunts nor even to be called Akelarre, its original title and a Basque term for 'the witches' Sabbath.' The film successfully builds suspense and moves surprisingly fast for its limited settings, thanks to engrossing, close-up performances by several of the main actors, in particular Brendemühl and Aberasturi. The artistic use of light and shadow, and studied framing (see especially scenes on the sea cliffs and of the six women staged in their makeshift cell), make the film attractive to watch as well. It won several technical prizes at the Oscar-equivalent Spanish Goya Awards. The sense you get watching Coven is that its creators intended very much to shock. The problem is that its predictability doesn't leave a lot of room for that (warning: spoilers ahead). It's more or less expected that the men, even those of the cloth, will be aroused by the idea of attractive young women involved in sexual, albeit satanic, rituals. When the captured girls simulate being possessed, their contortionist moves, wagging tongues, guttural chants, and wild dances are curious but not frightening -- precisely because we believe they're acting. Judging by the final scene (think Thelma & Louise circa 1609), the director seems to want to leave us with a small doubt about whether the women actually hold secret powers. This is less successful than what the film does aptly convey, which is the unjust victimizations of brutal, sadistic witch hunts. Strangely, though, the film teeters on the edge of falling into its own trap -- and undermining its intended feminist messages -- by offering up the actresses' youth and beauty in its own nearly exploitative way. A naked-from-behind bath scene wasn't entirely necessary, nor were repeated female references to large phalluses, nor a cringe-worthy line about Lucifer using charming young women "who have just left childhood behind" as bait for men. Read the full review at Common Sense Media.

This Mexican comedy with some dramatic elements might not leave a lasting impression, but it's easy to digest, offers some laughs, and provides a lovely vision of Mexico City. Tell Me When also provides some insight into how immigrant families straddle two countries and cultures. The highlights of the film involve Mexican American Will exploring Mexico City. He's fulfilling his grandpa's bucket list for him, and the vision is one of a contemporary, trendy, and cultured metropolis. The film would have grown into something bigger had it offered more of these scenes, more description of the significance of the places on the list, and more exploration of what the city and his roots there meant for Will. Local audiences will love the cameos and the insider humor. But despite some fun characters, especially meddling gay best friend Beto (played by Gabriel Nuncio) and Grandma's equally meddling friends, the love story between Will and Dani isn't developed enough to justify his disappointment or explain her attraction. Other ideas are also left half-baked, like a news report about Hispanic unemployment in the US or why Will is so socially awkward yet professionally successful. What is touching is his close-knit family, the love his grandparents show him by pointing out the hard reality of all that he's missing out on in life, and the open-ended finale that suggests positive friendships are as valuable as romance. Read the full review at Common Sense Media.

This film from Mexico looks gorgeous and is well acted, but ultimately the style outweighs the substance. Dance of the Forty One aims to convey a message about the consequences of oppression by contrasting the tense, ultimately abusive relationship between Ignacio and Amada with the tender affair between Ignacio and Evaristo. All three actors do a commendable job embodying this tension as well as their characters' simmering frustration with their respectively inhibited love stories. But the production feels much more concerned with depicting Ignacio's clandestine life, reveling in images of the men at the club performing for each other, than in developing its main characters more fully. As Eva, Emiliano Zurita is particularly underused, and we never really get to know his character. Amada transforms from blushing bride to tortured goat lady to heartless tormentor in record time, and her husband ends a broken man. It's a morality tale dressed in sumptuous period costume and candle-lit rooms (surely there's symbolism in the film's use of light and shadows), but the viewer -- especially outside Mexico, where the historical event is not well-known -- will be left wishing the script had matched the complexity of the production design. Read the full review at Common Sense Media.

Great intentions and solid acting keep this uplifting but predictable film from getting lost at sea. Blue Miracle is one of those stories that remains watchable even if you know from the start exactly how it's going to end. That's thanks to a compelling true story about an orphanage about to go under and a confident central performance by Jimmy Gonzales, whose own life story apparently inspired him in the role. It's also thanks to a cast of engaging kids and a credibly gruff and wind-worn Dennis Quaid. And it's thanks to an upbeat hip-hop soundtrack and an absolutely gorgeous setting, beautifully filmed in blue tones on land, sea, and in sweeping aerial shots. The film also works even despite noticeable shortcomings. It's questionable to have native Spanish-speaking actors talking English to each other in a Mexican setting. The improbable choice, unexplained and not made more authentic by Spanish words and expressions thrown in, could turn off some audiences. Many of the film's dialogues also feel overly scripted, like when the boys are questioning Wade about his own son, or when an old friend is trying to tempt Omar back into high-paying crime. Omar has recurring nightmares involving water that stem from his own experience as a child but also seem to perhaps too obviously symbolize his feeling adrift, sinking low, drowning in debt, watching hopes swirl down the drain. Still, the film is chock full of positive messages that are relatable for the whole family. Read the full review at Common Sense Media.

The Mayan jungle and the local myth of a femme fatale known as Xtabay give form and meaning to this suspenseful Mexican mystery. Most viewers will have to take to Google to grasp the connections between Xtabay and Agnes in Tragic Jungle (Selva Trágica). But even without fully understanding the myth or the historical and geographical setting, and despite Agnes's lack of spoken lines, there are enough clues to convey that all is not as it appears with the mysterious woman. The actors comprising the excellent, expressive male cast have more to work with, as the true nature of each of them must inevitably rise to the surface in the face of temptation and conflict. This story is more wretched than tragic, and it unfolds slowly and deliberately. The life of man and woman -- especially here and then -- was indeed nasty, brutish, and short, but the majestic jungle endures. It can't have been easy to shoot this film, but it pays off. The camera is placed at all kinds of interesting angles to capture the lush, disorientating, disconcerting setting. Animals small and large loom, their noises rising and falling on the wind. Crocodiles, tigers, monkeys, ants, and more lurk at every turn. Rain pours down out of nowhere. Fog settles on top of the river, making dawn and dusk indistinguishable. The jungle is a character unto itself, and it may be the most memorable aspect of the movie. Read the full review at Common Sense Media.

Actor Tamar Novas carries this lighthearted Spanish comedy with beautiful locations and a positive message about the importance of community. Novas hilariously fulfills the physicality of the role of Raúl in 1000 Miles from Christmas, tumbling down snowy hills, choking on candy, falling into a vat of syrup, and more. He also imbues his character with a high-pitched scream and an uptight demeanor, both of which are very funny. Novas is placed in a picturesque mountain village and surrounded by excellent character actors (including veteran Verónica Forqué, who passed away just before the film's release). One of Netflix's better Christmas movies, this film is sweet, entertaining, and uplifting. Read the full review at Common Sense Media.

This Spanish film has the look and feel of yet another Sex and the City knock-off, but with less of the exuberance or charm. Sounds like Love is based on a book by Elisabet Benavent, a trendy Spanish author whose work has also been adapted into the very similar Netflix series Valeria. Love is full of pseudo-feminist messages about self-empowerment among a friend group of three young female professionals grappling with relationships, careers, and identity. It boasts the expected mix of stylish outfits, urban settings, hip music, Instagram influencers, and lots of sex. Astute viewers will even detect some of the same settings and music as Valeria. But it's missing the youthful joy of the early seasons of Sex or even of Valeria, and though its characters are young, they are surprisingly bitter. The up-and-coming cast does their best with the material, but some effects forced on them fall flat, like flashbacks set in present-day scenes or multiple versions of Maca talking to herself. Maca also talks to the camera throughout, sharing knowing glances. But rather than pulling the viewer in as complicit (or as the missing friend in a Sex or Valeria-like foursome), they have an acidic "told you so" vibe instead. When the main character winds up in Paris, Love also steps on the pointy heels of Neflix's Emily in Paris. In sum, the material and ideas here feel overly familiar, and better versions are already streaming. Read the full review at Common Sense Media.