Pity (Oiktos)

A disturbing and oftentimes very funny satire-drama, Pity is about that complex, primal human craving called empathy and the distance we're willing to go to summon it.

Its sharpest passages ... exert the bracing, mouth-shuddering tang of neat ouzo: You know how it's going to taste, but it leaves you wincing anyway.

As stylized as Makridis' second feature is, it's grounded in recognizable behavior, and its sly, dry playfulness reverberates with fascinating questions about emotions and how we portray them.

There is no doubt that [Pity] is an interesting proposal, but it's not for everyone. [Full review in Spanish]

In essence, this is more of the same mix of idiosyncratic banality which once seemed novel about a decade prior.

This deadpan style isn't fresh or new, and feels downright lackluster even in the hands of an incredibly talented director and screenwriter.

The Greek Weird Wave's tendency to be uncompromising towards the audience is to be expected, and the cruelty that eventually emerges in Pity is unfortunately pretty predictable thanks to the brutality present in both The Lobster and Dogtooth.

A delightfully nasty piece of work, refusing to let either the lawyer or the audience off the hook as Makridis keenly observes how expressing sympathy has become ritualized to the point it no longer has meaning.

The situations are hilarious and horrifying all at once, the winning combination that makes every moment feel like a metaphorical punch in the gut... exactly the way our protagonist would like it.

Sharp-witted and entertaining throughout, with a cute final scene that will come as a relief to many viewers, Pity is a polished piece of filmmaking and well worth looking out for.

By the end, Pity transcends its simplistic premise to become a cogent allegory for the perils of solipsism.

Markridis has structured Pity as a slow burn, and this works just fine even though he tips his hand early.