![](https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_720,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fa0dd0ffd-c1bb-4b38-a8e1-158d12d046dc_960x1280.jpeg)
![](https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_720,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F5a62a24c-91cc-4e7c-b717-7ce835eea428_4032x3024.jpeg)
On any given day this past June, my routine probably looked something like this: a 5 A.M. jog, a whole afternoon sat by my laptop procrastinating this substack entry and abruptly waking up at midnight to put on a film. With the last couple of months being my busiest in recent memory, coming back home this summer has been a welcome change of pace. Admittedly, I initially equated this inactivity with a lack of progress. When everything around you seems to be moving ahead so quickly, it is easy slip into a state of insecurity. FOMO is inevitable.
Regardless, I was quick to realize how much of a luxury it was to lounge around without any concrete obligations. With adulthood creeping on the horizon, it is entirely possible this may be my last full blown summer in a long time. The last time I spend hours alone with my thoughts, daydreaming without a worry in the world, I have never felt so in tune with my present. Not fixating on past decisions or future ambitions, but merely observing where I am in the moment. My summer may not be one of tall tales or impressive feats, but a time of much needed stillness.
My June watchlist was filled with a diverse array of summer-adjacent films: a tumultuous vacation in Tuscany, a tropical meditation on the afterlife and the world of heated gangland scheming. Like millions of people around the world, I found myself unexpectedly entranced by pop icon Charli XCX’s latest release. BRAT summer is in full effect. I ended the month with a short four day stint in Bangkok, each day spent doing nothing but feasting.
Movies
Light spoilers ahead!
‘UNRELATED’ — JOANNA HOGG
Nothing embodies the feeling of an idle summer more than watching depressed Britons roam around the Italian countryside. Films like Roberto Rossellini’s Journey to Italy or the more recently released La Chimera from Alice Rohrwacher all exist within this cinematic canon. The bustling piazzas, the ancient ruins and the vast stretches of greenery all have an ephemeral beauty. With Roman bathhouses and Etruscan tombs buried deep beneath the tourist-filled surface, this is a realm at the end of history, frozen in time and slowly crumbling to dust. In Joanna Hogg’s 2007 debut drama Unrelated, the British filmmaker sets this ancient landscape as the background for her portrait of a lost woman.
After a falling out with her boyfriend, the middle aged Anna (Kathryn Worth) joins her old friend Verena (Mary Roscoe) and her family in a Tuscan villa. Trying to conceal her troubles at home, she awkwardly hangs around the adults on the trip as they obnoxiously drink expensive wines, sunbathe by the pool and at one point lounge on Mussolini’s couch. Anna finds more comfort spending time with the rambunctious Oxbridge-bound teenagers. The kids spend their vacation smoking joints, racing down bumpy countryside roads and drunkenly dancing to Daft Punk. As Anna grows closer to the kids, she exchanges subtle flirtations with the rebellious group leader Oakley (Tom Hiddleston) — a distraction from her marital woes and a taste of hedonistic youth.
On first viewing, there definitely was an impulse to hate on this film: why should I care about this posh, probably Tory-voting, family? Snobby British tourists feeling blue on vacation? Great, end scene. Despite this, the naturalistic performances from the cast — filled with the contrasting moments of emotional subtlety and explosive expression — really help draw you into the quiet chaos brewing in the villa. One of his earliest on-screen roles, Tom Hiddleston creates an intensely magnetic persona in Oakley. Feigning nonchalant confidence, his young eyes are brimming with rage and vulnerability. Similarly, Kathryn Worth’s portrayal of Anna is one that constantly teeters between soft smiles and debilitating sob sessions. With the former approaching a quarter life crisis, and the latter other in the throes of a mid life crisis, it feels both of their worlds are rapidly deteriorating. Surrounded by olive trees and 13th century castles, Hogg perfectly crystallizes the crippling anxieties of adulthood that spread like wildfire.
Like her following two works Archipelago and Exhibition, Hogg’s first feature is an incisive look into upper-middle class domesticity. Simmering tensions between the ensemble are juxtaposed by the serene landscapes and structures that they wander. The ornate cathedral nave in the city, the empty hallways in the villa and the dining room filled with wine bottles highlight both distance and intimacy. In one of the film’s most intense sequences, the sunbaked tourists are all perched nervously poolside as Oakley and his father George (David Rintoul) get into a physical confrontation inside the villa. With the whole villa in the frame, screams and wails emanating from inside its faded brick walls, the camera sits completely still. Like being a child, caught in the crossfire between a friend and their parents, there is a visceral discomfort, albeit one that is mesmerizingly intimate, watching these intensely private crises unfold. Even in the sultry Italian heat, a dreary, anguished, and depressingly English mood prevails.
![](https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_1456,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F96c3acc3-05c6-4fe5-a1f5-ccf6679921b6_3662x2442.jpeg)
‘UNCLE BOONMEE WHO CAN RECALL HIS PAST LIVES’ — APICHATPONG WEERSATHEKUL
Of the four seasons, summer is most associated with the peak of life. With luminous rays of sunlight leaking through the foliage, dynamism and virility is in the air. Yet, having grown up in Southeast Asia, where the seasons only switch between scalding heat and pouring rain, the tropical heat has always been more than just a sign of youthful beginnings. The sun floats high above in the humid air, even in a person’s dying moments, as they prepare to cross from one world to the next.
Set largely in and around a remote farm in Thailand’s Isan region, director Apichatpong Weersathekul Palme d’Or winning film Uncle Boonmee Who Can Recall His Past Lives realizes a mythical transient point between life and death. Loosely inspired by a real-life account, the main narrative follows the titular Boonmee (Thanapat Saisaymar), a man who has retreated to the countryside after being diagnosed with acute kidney failure. Accompanying him are his sister Jen (Jenjira Pongpas) and nephew Tong (Sakda Kaewbuadee), both of whom care for Boonmee as they look out into the endless sprawl of trees in the distance. As they have their first dinner at the farm, the sick man’s dead wife Huay (Natthakarn Aphaiwong) literally fades into an empty seat, while a tall ape-like creature with piercing red eyes emerges from the shadows. Along with its secondary plots, one about a wandering Ox and another a veiled princess, Weersathekul’s film contemplates karmic spirituality and rebirth.
No one else does slow burn, spiritual longing quite like Weersathekul. Ever since his 2004 debut Tropical Malady, the Thai filmmaker has developed one of the most distinct voices in contemporary cinema. The tropical landscape of his homeland, scored with the natural sounds of cicadas and bird songs, is a canvas where he engages in a naturalistic exploration of the supernatural. Merging something akin to David Lynch’s absurd dreamlike worlds with Edward Yang’s playful, and often ethereal, reflections on life, Weersathekul finds beauty and lyricism in every detail. Even in a film about death, the director’s tone is rarely somber. Seemingly at peace with his forthcoming fate, Boonmee calmly talks to his companions, both living and in spiritual forms. Happy memories are coupled with regrets, though there is never the sense that this is the final chapter of his story, rather the prologue of a new voyage.
More interested in leaving resonant impressions than providing concrete answers, it is likely that some people may leave their first viewing of Uncle Boonmee feeling frustrated. While most of the film consists of beautiful extended shots, lingering on natural landscapes or characters sitting in silence, more ridiculous scenes with spectral lovers, simian apparitions and a catfish mating ritual are interspersed throughout. In the hands of a less thoughtful filmmaker, this jarring combination of the quotidian with the paranormal could come off as a pretentious troll. For Weersathekul, the act of stitching together disparate worlds — the corporeal and the mystic immaterial — is essential in navigating the transfixing bliss of death. The jungle is not just a sight of primitive barbarism or military atrocity, it conceals an inexplicable liminality, a humid terminus between dark pasts and the unknown beyond.
‘ELECTION 2’ — JOHNNIE TO
Jimmy Lee (Louis Koo), a suave Kowloon crime boss with slicked back hair and an all-black suit, stands tall above a hill on the outskirts of Hong Kong. Under the blistering Guangzhou sun, he embraces his wife, promising the construction of a palatial estate looking over a grassy expanse of undeveloped land. This will be the land where he officially cements himself as a legitimate businessman. Here, he can raise his children to be respectable doctors and lawyers, away from the urban decadence of city life. Like a cowboy in the old west, the young mafioso gazes out onto his own frontier: Mainland China. However, back in the city, a brewing power struggle in his volatile outlaw brotherhood risks setting his lofty ambitions ablaze.
As someone who holds Andrew Lau and Alan Mak’s Infernal Affairs trilogy in high regard, I finally got around to watching another infamous Cantonese gangland picture from the early 2000s — Johnnie To’s Election 2. A brooding ultra violent action thriller, the finale to the cult filmmaker’s Election series truly stands out in Hong Kong’s withering cinematic landscape. With many industry veterans migrating north to cash in on the burgeoning mainland film scene, it is only appropriate that one of the most iconic films to come out of this era is a grimy gangster flick, oozing with nihilism towards the city’s past and future.
Gangsters, mob bosses and contract killers have always been a subject of fascination in Hong Kong cinema. Blinged out, blazer-wearing gunmen are the urban manifestation of China’s Wuxia vigilantes — agents of chaos that abide by atavistic honor codes amidst morally corrupt regimes. Conversely, the triads themselves are a reflection of Hong Kong’s own inept bureaucracies. It is a faux-democracy that facilitates the avarice of a privileged social elite, a system built on the vicious exploitation of the city’s residents.
Election 2 sits in the pantheon of iconic Hong Kong gangster flicks precisely for its bleak prognosis of To’s hometown in the 21st century. Whether it is a tense dramatic scene or a blood-soaked action sequence, the film often places its cast of thugs in dark spaces. A drink at a dimly lit bar, a kidnapping at a claustrophobic funeral parlor and a late night fishing boat execution, To never lets the camera glorify the gritty barbarism of organized crime. Every step Jimmy takes to consolidate political power further mires him in a bloody cycle of retribution.
If the New Wave cinema of the ‘80s and ‘90s expressed an uneasy optimism towards postcolonial transition, by 2006 To expresses a clear disillusionment with the systems that have emerged in the new millennia. The idiom in the film’s original Chinese title, “以和为贵” (harmony is a virtue), encapsulates the the story’s tragic core. While British imperial rule was founded on the basis of preserving a strict racial hierarchy, the Chinese administration subjugates the individual in favor of maintaining a unitary political power. To’s cynicism is not only towards Hong Kong’s new stewards in Beijing, but also towards the unforgiving tides of global capitalism. It is a force that renders desperation and depravity as the only means to stay alive. Flags change, new anthems are sung and endless opportunities surface over the horizon. Yet, the people of Hong Kong always find themselves at odds with the present — never truly in control and forced to constantly adapt to shifting sands.
Music
‘BRAT’ — CHARLI XCX
An aural cocktail of pulsating synths, gritty vocal fry and repetitive lyricism, Charli XCX’s BRAT is a platonically ideal pop record. Track after track, the industry veteran has concocted infectiously danceable songs, all oozing with unapologetic authenticity. Although her last record CRASH might have indicated a turn towards more clean cut and commercially friendly sounds, BRAT is not just a return to form for the singer-songwriter but a sublime evolution into club banger godhood.
The first three songs of the album — 360, Club Classics and Sympathy is a Knife — are an electrifying opening salvo to the project. Evoking the sweaty, bass-heavy energy of a Boiler Room DJ set, Charli phases between the highs of a pop star ego trip and the vulnerable lows of celebrity life. One of the record's most impressive feats is its ability to transition between playful tracks like Mean girls, to more contemplative songs like I think about it all the time — a song where Charli ponders on maternity and feminine purpose. This broad, messy thematic scope is partly what makes this album so endearing. The sonic texture of the album is rough around the edges, and Charli’s messaging is direct. Every track feels unfiltered, authentic and true to the popstars relatable persona.
Though neither a club rat nor a woman, BRAT has conquered my daily music rotation for the past month. Constantly bumping to songs about it girls in the club and the existential crises of womanhood has irrevocably altered my brain chemistry. When I go for a drive, BRAT is playing on the stereo. When I open TikTok, my feed is filled with BRAT content. Whenever I see a remotely lime green object in public, a tiny voice in my head yells: BRAT! Whether or not it was her intention, Charli’s album isn’t just another billboard hit.
In the pop landscape, catchy tunes are not enough. People want cultural moments. Artists and studio executives alike are constantly on the hunt for marketable authenticity and ways to manufacture virality. The emergence of musical personalities like Chappell Roan and Sabrina Carpenter exhibit this appetite for a persona that listeners can obsess over. Through BRAT, Charli has inducted a whole new generation into her magnetic club music cult of personality. Having persisted in this hyper-competitive industry since the early 2010s, she is one of the few artists who has been able to strike the balance of making a mass product while still making music that feels true to herself.
Munch(es)
![1. Crab Fried Rice, Fried Crab Omelet and Soft Crab Omelet 2. Soft Crab Omelet 3. Cheeky chef striking a pose](https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_720,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fa68c99e7-a38d-43e1-8fee-5996d64b6eb9_4032x3024.jpeg)
![1. Crab Fried Rice, Fried Crab Omelet and Soft Crab Omelet 2. Soft Crab Omelet 3. Cheeky chef striking a pose](https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_720,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fb8e822c5-e2f5-4f25-a20a-5caf97db6639_4032x3024.jpeg)
![1. Crab Fried Rice, Fried Crab Omelet and Soft Crab Omelet 2. Soft Crab Omelet 3. Cheeky chef striking a pose](https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_720,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fbe62cd9c-74fd-4ef5-8125-b42833c1eb02_4032x3024.jpeg)
![1. Crab Fried Rice, Fried Crab Omelet and Soft Crab Omelet 2. Soft Crab Omelet 3. Cheeky chef striking a pose](https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_720,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F00630809-c078-402b-8dfc-7666a123f897_4032x3024.jpeg)
CRAB OMELETS @ NHONG RIM KLONG, BANGKOK
Located in the Khlong Tan Nuea subdistrict of Bangkok, Michelin-recommended Nhong Rim Klong serves up a plethora of hearty family style seafood dishes. Formerly a street stall located by the canal a few blocks away, the two-story eatery is usually filled with tourists and locals by noon — many ordering plates of stir-fired squid and fragrant bowls of Tom Yum soup. However, Nhong Rim Klong’s claim to Bangkok street food infamy are undoubtedly their crab omelet. The fried crab omelet, Kai jeow pu (ไข่เจียวปู), a dish popularized by Thai culinary icon Jay Fai, combines generous chunks of fresh crab meat with egg, flour and a dash of fish sauce. Cooks toss the ingredients into an oiled-up wok over high heat, shaping the mixture into a perfect golden brown roll — infusing every bite with a smoky wok hei essence. The second variation on the menu, and my personal favorite, is the Khai kan pu (ไข่ขันปู) a soft-cooked omelet that more closely resembles a buttery scramble. Portions of luscious crabmeat are coated in thin layers of silky egg strands make every spoonful of this dish so satisfying. Though on the surface this dish does not look all that impressive, especially compared to its deep fried cousin, Nhong Rim Klong’s Khai kan pu is the epitome of elegant homestyle cooking.
Address: Khlong Tan Nuea
![1. Beef Boat Noodles and Spicy Steamed Wontons 2. Beef Boat Noodles 3. Fried Banana Fritters](https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_474,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fe533c25a-4a65-4f75-83e4-d301cee439e3_4032x3024.jpeg)
![1. Beef Boat Noodles and Spicy Steamed Wontons 2. Beef Boat Noodles 3. Fried Banana Fritters](https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_474,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fa776488c-7826-4852-9e09-ed9e4a62d009_3024x4032.heic)
![1. Beef Boat Noodles and Spicy Steamed Wontons 2. Beef Boat Noodles 3. Fried Banana Fritters](https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_474,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F0be45855-2847-4b97-9a44-9e263655dfb2_4032x3024.jpeg)
BOAT NOODLES @ THONG SMITH, BANGKOK
Thai Boat Noodles (ก๋วยเตี๋ยวเรือ) are criminally underrated in the global noodle discourse. Between the 12th and 16th centuries, during the reign of the Ayutthaya Kingdom, canoe-riding vendors would drift down Bangkok’s waterways dishing out these iconic bowls of blood-soaked broth. Though you can definitely find different variations of the dish all over the city, especially by the capital’s Victory Monument, Thong Smith’s elevated take on the classic is divine. My go-to order, the D10 Beef Noodle, is topped with thin slices of Australian Wagyu ribeye, spongy meatballs, braised beef shank and tendon. Garnished with pork cracklings and the restaurant’s signature chili oil, this deceptively humble dish is packed with an intensely beefy flavor profile. For desert, neighboring sister restaurant Thong Sweet offers an addictive plate of fried banana fritters. Hitting the highest Asian desert compliment of “not too sweet,” this deep-fried crunchy snack will have you picking at crumbs until the plate is completely bare. Having visited this establishment three times in my four day trip, Thong Smith was all I could think about on my flight back home.
Address: Central Embassy (multiple locations)
"troubled woman vacationing in italy" is one of my favorite subgenres of film
First.