The Best New TV Shows & Movies This Week: 'Hunters', 'Portrait of a Lady on Fire', and More

Image via Complex

Where to Watch: HBO Now

The seventh episode of The Outsider begins right where the previous episode left off as Jack supposedly leads Holly to the barn to support her investigation. With his face covered in lacerations, his neck searing from that mysterious burn, Jack is nearing total madness. Holly senses his suffering, almost encouraging him to vent and express his confusion about why El Cuco specifically chose him. She doesn’t know why, but she understands that Jack isn’t going to lead her to the barn. But she’s Holly Gibney, and she’s too smart to let him slowly lead her to her death. The cat and mouse chase that ensues not only leaves Jack’s fate open-ended but also complicates Ralph’s one-sided view of the case thus far.  

In the meantime, Glory Maitland tries to move past her family tragedy by returning to work as a realtor. After starting a confrontation with a couple, she realizes that she cannot move past the injustice that she felt happened to her husband and her family. Eventually, she decides to sue the police department and the D.A. Praise be to Glory for not being driven out of her hometown and standing up for herself. 

To complicate matters further, Claude ditches the strip club for good after going through a funk. After learning that Ralph withheld the information that Terry scratched Claude immediately after the murder, Holly rightfully loses all patience with Ralph. Up to this point, he had been willfully ignoring her theories while also not denying them entirely, causing an internal struggle that’s preventing him from directly helping Holly in any way. 

The episode was primarily meant to pull Ralph out of his comfort zone. Ralph, who is so married to reason and evidence, struggles with the possibility that something unexplainable is actually supernatural. While everyone from Holly to Jeannie and even his colleagues are starting to accept her theory, Ralph is the only person left who refuses to indulge them. His unwillingness prevents them from finding not only answers to the Terry Maitland case, but also a possible solution to stopping El Cuco altogether. 

With only three episodes left, we should expect the series to ramp up the pace and re-introduce El Cuco working in real time as it preys on its next victim. “In The Pines” essentially functioned as a buffer to push Ralph to accept the supernatural but also prepare himself (and his colleagues) for its next attack. But it won’t be until Ralph accepts the reality that the series can keep moving forward. —Andie Park

Where to Watch: HBO Now

While it's hard to imagine how this Funkhouser situation is going to end, this week's Curb felt like vintage Curb. Adult (a blow-up doll gift plays into this week's conflict) with dashes of Leon (who, IMO, feels underutilized this season), this week's tale found a professional crier getting thrown in front of Larry's sight; you know he couldn't help but letting the chopper spray whenever he figured she was bullshitting. A classic cameo from Clive Owen mixed with Ted Danson continuing to be a thorn in Larry's side makes for another solid episode in what is feeling like another solid season of Curb. —khal

Where to Watch: Amazon Prime Video

Ed Note: This review only takes into account the first episode of Hunters.

It’s not a stretch to say the enduring fascination with Nazis in film and TV is at an all-time high these days. In the past few years we’ve been blessed with The Man in the High Castle, Inglorious Basterds, Valkyrie, Overlord, and the Oscar-winning Jojo Rabbit. The latest show to embrace this trend is Hunters, which dropped its entire first season this Friday on Amazon Prime.

The main hype behind this series is twofold: 1) Jordan Peele is a producer AND 2) the legendary Al Pacino is in it, marking his first (!) foray into series television.

The series wastes absolutely no time, as the opening scene sees the villainous Biff Simpson (Dylan Baker of The Good Wife) lay waste to an entire garden party. From there, the web of murder, intrigue, and Al Pacino absolutely crushing every scene he’s in unfolds.

We are then quickly introduced to one of the main characters, Jonah Heidelbaum (Logan Lerman! You guys remember Logan Lerman! He’s back! Logan Lerman!) a gifted, nerdy but directionless Jewish kid, we see Logan leave a screening of Star Wars with his two best friends. And then he gets his ass kicked trying to sell weed. Don’t do drugs, kids! Jonah returns home, bruised and bloodied, to be consoled by his grandmother Ruth (Jeannie Berlin) who scolds him for wasting his potential. Oh and then she gets murdered. Like 10 minutes later. This show wastes ZERO TIME.

At the shiva, Jonah meets Meyer Offerman (Al Pacino), who fondly remembers the time he spent with Ruth (You discover he saved Ruth’s life during the early purges in WWII, via flashback). He hands Jonah a card, and tells him to contact him if he needs anything.

Let’s just say the two definitely get in touch.

The first episode, clocking in at over an hour and a half, sets the stage for the rest of the series. Ruth’s death, the death of Jewish NASA scientist Gretel Fischer (Veronika Nowag-Jones), and the interactions between Jonah and Meyer all play a part in establishing the universe of Hunters. The episode ends with a brilliant juxtaposition: you discover the league of Nazi hunters led by Meyer (Josh Radnor! CAROL KANE!!). You then immediately meet the mysterious Colonel (Lena Olin (IRINA DEREVKO FROM ALIAS!)), the Nazi who may be in charge of all these murders. The episode ends with the lines in the sand clearly drawn. It only gets more bloody, and, perhaps more importantly, more Pacino from there. With nine episodes to go, the pilot episode has set the stage. You want to know how deep the Nazi conspiracy goes. You want to know if justice will prevail.

You want to know how the hunt will play out.

Where to Watch: In theaters

The opening shot of director Céline Sciamma’s Portrait of a Lady on Fire starts with a blank canvas. A woman’s hand carefully traces lines faintly across it. We then see that an art class is taking place—all of the students are teenage girls and they’re carefully studying their subject, Marianne (Noémie Merlant), who is also their instructor. She gently tells them where to look when creating their paintings and to look closely. It’s a philosophy that will guide the rest of Sciamma’s sumptuous film.

The story of Portrait is simple: Marianne is commissioned to paint a portrait of Héloïse (Adèle Haenel), a beautiful woman who recently left a convent and returns home to her mother after the death of her sister. The portrait will then be sent to a Milanese suitor to whom Héloïse is betrothed. Her mother instructs Marianne to paint Héloïse without her knowing, since she refused to sit for her last portrait as a way to protest the marriage. What follows is a journey seen in Marianne’s eyes—specifically through the eyes of a diligent and gifted painter. 

Portrait is a dedicated study of the Gaze—and not the toxic Male Gaze that objectifies its female subjects into aesthetic muses. The gaze that we experience through Marianne’s eyes is that of tenderness and a longing to understand the woman who will become the love of her life. In the beginning of their relationship, we get close-up shots of Héloïse’s neck, face, and earlobes—initially to emphasize Marianne’s disciplinary observations as an artist to memorize her subject’s physicality so that she can paint her portrait in the evening, by firelight.  But through such observations, Marianne also picks up on Héloïse’s emotive quirks—she tells Héloïse that she is annoyed simply by her lack of blinking. Or whether she is embarrassed through the way she bites her lip. Héloïse then quips back with her observations of Marianne. While it’s a back-and-forth of who knows each other better, such minute observations are actually silent proclamations of love that cannot be said aloud.

Portrait observes how a love story can exist within a very specific place and time—the story between Marianne and Héloïse takes place towards the end of the 18th century and on the Brittany Coast of France. Though they exist in a world far less liberating than our present day, the two women find themselves almost frozen in time; they live in an isolated house and take intimate walks along the coast. Almost as if no one in the world can bother them and remind them of the impossibility of their eventual love. We experience the pain and longing between the two women who know that their time together is ephemeral. The film is full of silent moments that burst with tension and longing. When they give in to each other, they give in to each other fully. Watching Merlant and Haenel’s subtle performances evolve into something more rapturous makes for one of the most moving films in recent years. It’s a testament to how love story slowly build into a masterpiece, much like experiencing the completion of an artwork. —Andie Park