At The Movies: New Demon Slayer delivers top-tier animation, Arze embarks on a vibrant adventure

Demon Slayer: Kimetsu No Yaiba Infinity Castle (NC16)

155 minutes, opens on Aug 14
★★★★☆

The story: The Demon Slayer Corps ready for climactic battle against centuries-old nemesis Muzan, but are plunged into the demon army’s fortress before they can land a single blow.

Demon Slayer: Kimetsu No Yaiba Infinity Castle is the first film in a planned trilogy on the final arc of the Demon Slayer manga phenomenon; a sequel, essentially, to the fourth season of the television series adaptation (2019 to 2024).

The Taisho-era fantasy adventure is shattering box-office records in Japan and on pace to surpass the 2020 franchise instalment Mugen Train as the highest-grossing anime movie of all time.

Its 2½-hour runtime is not without tedium. There are as many origin stories amid the explosive action as there are characters – and the characters number over a dozen.

The ambitious production is nevertheless committed to giving viewers a fuller understanding of every player in creator Koyoharu Gotouge’s universe beyond the resolute teen hero Tanjiro (voiced by Natsuki Hanae), his accursed sister Nezuko (Akari Kito) and tritagonists Zenitsu (Hiro Shimono) and Inosuke (Yoshitsugu Matsuoka).

The Hashira, the Demon Slayer Corps’ elite soldiers, get their moments.

Even the demons, notably fan favourite Akaza (Akira Ishida), are humanised by their tragic histories of suffering.

The tortured souls have long since been monstrously transmogrified for this epic confrontation between good and evil, with their multidimensional Infinity Castle a treacherous battleground.

The immersive swordplay battles are the apogees of the dynamic graphics by director Haruo Sotozaki at Japanese animation studio Ufotable. Dazzling displays aside, they are the individual heroes’ emotional journeys of physical and moral growth – learning not only courage and sacrifice in their dedication to protect humanity, but also compassion and forgiveness.

Hot take: Believe the fanboys. Japan’s cinematic event of the year is top-tier animation, spectacular yet intimate.

Arze (NC16)

92 minutes, opens exclusively at The Projector on Aug 14
★★★★☆

The story: Struggling single mum Arze (Diamand Abou Abboud) takes her teenage son (Bilal Al Hamwi) on a frantic search for their stolen scooter. She barely makes ends meet as a home baker: How will they deliver the pies?

A job-seeker and his son endured similar hardships to recover their bike in Bicycle Thieves (1948). The transport vehicle was a lifeline in the Italian neo-realism landmark by Vittorio De Sica, a tale of economic precarity Lebanese film-maker Mira Shaib has re-contextualised for her wonderfully captivating feature debut Arze.

Post-war Rome is now 2019 Beirut, where the eponymous heroine is redirected along her stubborn quest from a Greek Orthodox trucker to the Sunni quarter, then on to the Shias, the Maronite Christians and a Palestinian camp.

She changes her accent, swops a hijab for a cross and “pleads to every saint and iman”.

The very amusing absurdist comedy filmed on location belies the hostile sectarianism. Arze’s fatayer spinach pies, which she slyly proffers in exchange for information, symbolise a shared identity – and still, every community suspects the other of being the thief.

Arab cinema is never free from the burden of history and the region’s cultural, religious and societal complexities. It is almost always political, however implicit, like the October Revolution civil protests that background the journey.

Arze’s sister (Betty Taoutel) has, meanwhile, been left a delusional shut-in by her husband’s abduction during the Lebanese Civil War, and her angry son represents a generation that sees little future in the stagnant economy.

Survival is a daily negotiation. But in Lebanese actress Abou Abboud’s award-winning performance under the director’s light touch, it is also a vibrant adventure.

Hot take: It takes skill and sensitivity to navigate current geopolitical realities with such freewheeling humour.