Cloud
We’re all familiar with the dregs of the comment section—whether it’s on social posts, articles, or YouTube videos. Add to that the absurd nitpicking on Yelp reviews and, well… you get the picture. The anonymity of the internet seems to bring out the worst in people, with hordes turning trivial inconveniences into outrage before quickly moving on to the next thing to be angry about. For those caught on the wrong end of the vitriol, even if maybe deserved, it can feel all-consuming. But what if those threats in the comment sections actually materialized? That’s the depressingly relevant idea at the core of Kiyoshi Kurosawa’s new film Cloud.
This isn’t the first time Kurosawa has grappled with the internet’s effect on the psyche—back in 2001, his landmark film Pulse treated the internet itself as something to be go be weary of, a sinister and ever-permeating force that left us more disconnected and isolated with every notification.
What distinguishes Cloud is how Kurosawa reframes that relationship. The internet is no longer just an ominous presence lurking in the background—it’s something that has reshaped us. Not only has it isolated us, it has also dulled us, made us collectively more reactionary, less sincere, unable able to see past the noise and recognize our common humanity.
I think my friend Tom Knoblauch put it perfectly in his review on his blog The Entertainment:
“…Kuraudo (Cloud, 2024), instead confronts the horror of limitations, like he is looking back at the shared by so much of the world in 2001 about the new age and its central technological update and revisiting the subject with the hindsight that everything has turned out to be much dumber and more cynical than his overtly mystical first take.”Tom Knoblauch “In 'Cloud,' Kiyoshi Kurosawa Returns to Internet Horror with the Hindsight of a Much Dumber World”
Although Cloud channels the pacing and style of Kurosawa’s earlier works, the film feels strange in the way it unfolds and in how its characters react. But if you connect with what the film is beginning to suggest, the oddness starts to make sense. Stick with it until the end, and its meaning comes into focus—though only vaguely.
That’s what I love about films like this: they refuse to provide easy answers and instead invite conversation about what they mean to you personally. For me, Cloud reflects something deeply unsettling—it’s bleak out there.
Cloud is now playing at Film Streams.
Read Tom’s full review here.
Artie Shaw: Time is All You’ve Got
As I was watching the film Artie Shaw: Time Is All You’ve Got, I turned to my wife and asked, “How do I review a documentary from 1985 about a legendary musician that won the Academy Award for Best Documentary Feature?” A film like this already has the accolades, it’s been seen by thousands over the years—but now it’s making a comeback thanks to a new 4K restoration and Blu-ray release from Film Movement.
At first, the film plays like a fairly typical documentary of its time—archival photos paired with a generic voiceover walking us through the highlights of an infamous life. But what sets it apart are the sit-down interviews with Shaw himself. He’s a fascinating presence: someone who moved in the most glamorous circles, had all the money in the world, yet maintained a fraught relationship with fame. He’s full of contradictions, and at times even an unreliable narrator. A big band leader who longed to play classical music, an erudite intellectual who dreamed of farm life, and ultimately a man who retreated to the coast of Spain.
For me, Artie Shaw had always just been a name—and a stack of records gifted to me by one of my mother’s friends years ago. But this film did what the best documentaries do: it introduced me to a complicated, deeply human figure.
The restoration makes the interviews look stunning, the cinematography shines, and of course the music is unforgettable. I’m simply glad I had the chance to experience this film.
Artie Shaw: Time Is All You’ve Got is now available on Blu-ray from Film Movement.
For KIOS, I’m Joshua LaBure.
