Category Archives: New In Theaters

Reviews of what’s out now

Memory Lane

Lie With Me

By Rachel Willis

Past memories and present regrets mix in director Olivier Peyon’s film, Lie with Me.

Returning to his hometown after decades away, celebrated author Stéphane Belcourt (Guillaume de Tonquédec) looks to dig up the ghosts of his past in hopes of inspiring something lost. Or in this case, one ghost. 

In 1984, a young Stéphane (Jérémy Gillet) begins a relationship with popular student, Thomas (Julien De Saint Jean). The only condition of their relationship is that no one can know. What starts as something tawdry deepens as the two boys spend more time together. Scenes from the past intermingle with scenes from the present, as memories of his first love overwhelm an older Stéphane.

It’s not clear if Stephane expects to encounter his past love when he returns, but he is floored when instead he meets Thomas’s son, Lucas (Victor Belmondo). 

There are two very touching relationships in the film as we watch the budding romance between Stéphane and Thomas unfold, along with Stéphane’s friendship with Lucas. The two actors portraying Stéphane are equally skilled at bringing the character to life in a seamless blend of one person at two different times in life. It’s as effectives as the contrasting natures of Thomas and his son, Lucas. Where Thomas is reserved, never revealing who he is, Lucas is at ease with himself.

The slow steps the film takes in trying to reveal Thomas are elusive; can we ever really know a person who doesn’t know himself? In hiding a part of himself from everyone but Stéphane, he essentially lives a stunted life.

There are some scenes that don’t always work. A few are too heavy-handed and sentimental in a film that works better when it embraces restraint. As the older Stéphane, de Tonquédec can convey a range of emotion with his expressions. When his controlled façade slips, we see sadness and radiance as he recalls moments of love and loss. 

The movie isn’t perfect, but it’s touching. There is a quiet sadness that haunts Stéphane as we follow him through his memories. While some scenes carrying a heavy weight, the film is not without hope. While it’s true there are some people we can never really know, often they leave hints, revealing as much of themselves as they can. It’s depressing, but it’s hopeful, too. 

Perhaps one day, the world will learn the accept others for who they are and there will no longer be a need to hide.

Oscar Nominated Shorts: Documentary

by George Wolf

When I was a kid watching the Oscars, I remember always being perplexed by short film categories. How do people manage to see these shorts?

Good news, kids, it’s gotten much easier. Not only to we now have ShortsTV, but in the last several years, all the nominated shorts have been packaged by category for theatrical showings. And in the cases where the combined run times don’t reach feature length, some bonus shorts are added to the programs.

In this year’s Documentary group, you’ll find informative shorts that inspire, surprise and delight.

Island In Between 20 Mins. Director: S. Leo Chiang Taiwan

Taiwanese-American filmmaker S. Leo Chiang calls this his ”op-doc,” as he reflects on a ”three way custody battle” that continues to define him.

The triangle of influence is made up of the U.S., China and the small island of Kinmen, where Chiang’s parents still live. Kinmen is a Taiwanese island only 10km from mainland China, a small piece of land sitting literally and figuratively between vastly different worlds.

It’s often wise to funnel complex ideas through smaller, more intimate perspectives, and Chaing does that effectively here. In documenting his own journey to self-identification, Island In Between becomes an enlightening window into a slice of world history that continues to breed tension.

No trailer available


Nai Nai & Wài Pó 17 mins. Director: Sean Wang United States

In a bad mood? Give this one 17 minutes and it will be gone like a fart in the wind.

Probably one of Wai Po’s farts.

Nai Nai & Wai Po are the paternal and maternal grandmothers of filmmaker Sean Wang. They live together in China, and are happy that their grandson is visiting to make them ”movie stars!”

Wang fills each frame with love and appreciation, allowing each woman to look back, to talk about how they see life and death, and to get gloriously silly.

It’s a wonderful love letter to family that will bring a warm smile to your heart, and make you want to call your Mom or Grandma.


The ABCs of Book Banning 27 Mins. Directors: Trish Adlesic, Nazenet Habtezghi, Sheila Nevins United States

The film quickly gets you up to date on some sobering facts: approximately 2,000 books have been removed from U.S. school districts after being restricted, challenged or banned.

Then, the directors let a group of 8, 9 and 10 year-olds sound ff on these decisions. These kids are smart and thirst for knowledge, and their wonderfully simplistic assessments expose the ridiculous objections to many of these books.

“You’re stealing knowledge.”

“I like to learn.”

“Something’s not clicking in your brain.”

And, after being told that a book having same sex parents is objectionable: ”Why? It’s not like they turned into a werewolf!”

The clear objective here to give voice to those who don’t often get to weigh in on an issue that directly concerns them. But to rest its case, the film spotlights a 100 year-old woman’s impassioned speech to a local school board debating banned books.

Neither age group has much use for BS. Well done.


The Barber of Little Rock 35 mins. Directors: John Hoffman Christine Turner United States

Get to know Arlo Washington.

A Little Rock barber and small business owner, Arlo’s commitment to confronting the racial wealth gap led to his forming the People’s Trust bank in 2008, a Community Development Financial Institution specially designed to combat the economic segregation of his community.

I.e. ”banking while Black.”

You feel inspired just spending time with Arlo, and smarter for the way he and the film break down the ways CDFI’s can make truly impactful differences in both lives and communities.

Arlo’s work provides freedom, which is precisely why a friend advises him to watch his back. The film lets you understand why the friend’s words are well taken, even as you’re hoping Arlo’s work is just getting started.


The Last Repair Shop 39 mins. Directors: Kris Bowers, Ben Proudfoot United States

The team behind the 2020 Oscar nominee A Concerto Is a Conversation returns to spotlight the people inside a musical instrument repair shop, and the students whose lives they are touching.

Since 1959, the L.A. school district has been providing free instrument repair for its music students. It is one of the last U.S. districts to still offer this service, and the film shows us the joy the practice can bring to the kids, while it profiles the unique circumstances that brought four expert craftspeople to the same repair shop.

It’s a captivating and warm approach to illustrating this one degree of separation between generations, and reminding us of the enrichment possible through music education.

Oscar Nominated Shorts: Live Action

by George Wolf

When I was a kid watching the Oscars, I remember always being perplexed by short film categories. How do people manage to see these shorts?

Good news, kids, it’s gotten much easier. Not only do we now have ShortsTV, but in the last several years, all the nominated shorts have been packaged by category for theatrical showings. And in the cases where the combined run times don’t reach feature length, some bonus shorts are added to the programs.

In this year’s Live Action group, we get four tear-jerkers, two big plot twists and one Wes Anderson cavalcade of whimsy. Enjoy.

Invincible 30 Mins. Writer/director: Vincent René-Lortie Canada

Based on the last 48 hours in the life of Marc-Antoine Bernier, a 14 year-old boy struggling with incarceration in a youth centre, Invincible finds humanity amid heartbreak.

Young Léokim Beaumier-Lépine gives a terrific performance as Marc, whose continued outbursts have put his weekend visits home at risk. Marc has shown himself to be both smart and talented, but has not responded well to his confinement. The situation is also beginning to take a toll on his younger sister, Justine (Élia St-Pierre).

René-Lortie brings an artful touch of grace to this tragic story, allowing a troubled spirit to soar toward freedom.

Knight of Fortune 25 mins. Writer/director: Lasse Lyskjær Noer Denmark

Karl (Leif Andrée) has come to the morgue for a last look at his beloved wife. He’s told to be prepared for the changes in her appearance, but he can’t quite bring himself to open the coffin and accept that she is gone.

In the restroom, Karl meets Torben (Jens Jørn Spottag), another grieving widower who would like Karl to accompany him to the room with his own late wife’s coffin, and help him say goodbye.

The men’s quick bond is bittersweet and warmly funny. And when Karl learns some surprising facts about Torben, the film becomes a wonderfully touching message about love, loss, and what it takes to keep moving forward.

No trailer available

Red, White and Blue 23 mins. Writer/director: Nazrin Choudhury United State

Brittany Show stars as Rachel, a struggling single parent in Arkansas who is suddenly faced with an unwanted pregnancy. She’s forced to cross state lines for the care she seeks, and Rachel’s choices seem fairly clear cut.

Until they’re not.

Choudhury, a veteran TV writer directing her first film, drops a major twist that changes everything we thought we knew about Rachel. Yes, what follows comes on pretty strong, but Choudbury isn’t interested in whispering, and there’s an urgency in Red, White and Blue that can’t be denied.

The After 19 mins. Writers: Misan Harriman and John Julius Schwabach Director: Misan Harriman United Kingdom

The first of two Netflix films in this group, The After finds Dayo (David Oyelowo in fine form as always) struggling to accept unspeakable tragedy.

Sleepwalking though what’s left of his life, Dayo takes a job as a ride share driver. The lack of personal interaction seems perfect for Dayo’s desire to withdraw, until a certain passenger forces him to confront the past.

The film is not subtle, but Oyelowo’s turn is deeply affecting, allowing The After to speak clearly through the tears.

The Wonderful Life of Henry Sugar 37mins. Writer/director: Wes Anderson. U.K./U.S.A.

One of three short films Wes Anderson produced for Netflix last year, Henry Sugar unfolds like a delightful pop-up book being presented to us by a breathlessly enthusiastic troupe.

Benedict Cumberbatch, Dev Patel, Ralph Fiennes and Sir Ben Kingsley lead a stellar ensemble that thrives inside Anderson’s trademark world of unmistakable color, framing and pace.

You could say the film is about a man who learns to see through objects with help from a stolen book, but that would be doing a disservice to the engaging ways the entire tale evolves. Wonderful indeed.

Forest Primeval

Out of Darkness

by Hope Madden

Some 45,000 years ago, Adem (Chuku Modu) and his mate Ave (Iola Evans), his heir (Luna Mwezi), his brother (Kit Young), the elder (Arno Lüning), and a stray (Safia Oakley-Green) left their hunter-gatherer community and crossed the water, looking for the paradise Adem had heard tell of in the old lands.

We know this because the little group spins yarns around a campfire to stave off starvation, and wise Odal (Lüning) is entertaining. He’s also owning the narrative, a concept co-writer (working with Ruth Greenberg and Oliver Kassman) and director Andrew Cumming returns to often as he contemplates early human history with his stone age thriller, Out of Darkness.

Adem, confident of his godlike abilities and his entitlement, believes he will establish his own paradise in this land. But there is no food in sight, and pregnant Ave may die or lose another baby if he does not find food soon.

And yet, starvation may be the least of the little band’s worries. Gathered around the fire at night, they feel movement in the shadows, hear unearthly shrieking. Have they angered demons? Will they become prey?

An imposing Scottish landscape lends the film immeasurable production value, and the invented language adds authenticity. Each performance is solid. Modu, as the steely alpha, is pitiless and selfish. Lüning delivers a conniving turn, and Oakley-Green, as the underdog hero, mines a primitive spirit for complexity.

The film itself treads somewhat familiar ground–a little bit Prey, a touch Quest for Fire, maybe a little Bone Tomahawk.

The film expertly plays with audience expectations. A “brains trump brute force” evolution tale, a la One Million B.C.? A feminist reimagining of prehistory? A pioneering story, or one of invasion? Is it a man versus nature ordeal, or is it a horror movie?

Out of Darkness asks more questions than it answers. That’s not to say there are plot holes–the script is airtight. But what Cumming is out to communicate about our humble beginnings or what that has to say about humanity is a little tougher to decipher.

Willie or Won’t She?

Willie and Me

by George Wolf

Greta is a young girl in Germany who loves her some Wille Nelson. Her unstable mother does not agree.

“Turn it off or I’ll punch you in the face!” Not a lot of gray area there.

But her devotion to the Red Headed Stranger endures into adulthood, when Greta (Eva Haßmann, who also writes and directs her first feature) feels compelled to travel to America and attend Willie’s “farewell” concert in Las Vegas.

So after selling the Porsche behind her husband’s back and setting their kitchen on fire (accidentally?), Greta just can’t wait to get on the road (again).

Flying first into L.A, Greta finds the city pretty welcoming, starting with the helpful hotel desk clerk who sails often on whiskey river (Peter Bogdanovich, in his final screen appearance). A local Elvis impersonator named Nick (Blaine Gray) also takes an interest in Greta’s welfare, stirring echoes of how an entire city instantly rolled over for Elizabeth Berkeley’s character in Showgirls.

But rather than serving up pretentious camp, Haßmann embraces the utter silliness of Greta’s quest. There are snake bites, blow up dolls, stolen cars, pre-teen con artists and more trying to derail Greta’s journey, but she just keeps plowing ahead with the certainty of the Blues Brothers’ “mission from God.”

It’s not really that funny, and the production values can be shaky, but there’s a quirky charm here, thanks mainly to a commitment from Haßmann that mirrors her character. She even writes and performs a song with Willie himself, who handles double duty with a cameo as a mysterious man in black.

It adds up to a madcap slice of Napoleon Dynamite-esque Americana that’s just as likely to leave you scratching your head as laughing out loud. There’s little chance Willie and Me will be always on your mind, but at just 87 minutes, it’s a whimsical tribute to an icon that won’t feel like a waste of time.

We All Float On Okay

Float

by Rachel Willis

It’s often said there are no new stories, only new ways to tell them. Director Sherren Lee’s film Float aptly exemplifies this concept.

The film follows a standard rom-com format while not exactly falling into the rom-com category. There’s romance, yes, and a certain amount of comedy, but also a lot of heart and turbulence as several characters navigate their relationships.

Waverly (an exquisite Andrea Bang) finds herself in Holden visiting her Aunt Rachel (Michelle Krusiec), whom she hasn’t seen in so long neither can really remember when it last was. Waverly’s visit is unexpected. She was supposed to be in Toronto for a career opportunity her parents arranged for her. But even that wasn’t planned. Her original plan for the summer was to fly to Taipei to spend time with parents she hasn’t seen in four years.

It’s clear from the beginning that Waverly’s relationship with her parents is far from perfect. Seeking refuge from their expectations, she finds the small town of Holden a good place to recharge and sort out her feelings.

Waverly meets a host of characters who enliven her experience in the gorgeous town. It can be hard to balance a large cast of characters, but the film does this well.

The one exception is Blake (Robbie Amell), which is a problem since he’s the other half of our romantic duo. Blake never really comes to life, and it can be hard to work out what it is about him that Waverly likes. Most of their time spent getting acquainted is shown in montage, which doesn’t allow the audience to get to know Blake.

The other problem is the lack of depth given to Waverly’s relationship with her parents. This is a big part of the film’s conflict, but Lee doesn’t devote enough time to it.

However, Float boasts an endearing tenderness. Bang can carry the film’s emotional weight, her range of emotion spilling over into each scene. A mixed bag, Float at least has a unique take on the rom-com formula.

Rules Are Rules

The Teacher’s Lounge

by George Wolf

“What happens in the teacher’s lounge, stays in the teacher’s lounge.”

Mrs. (Carla) Nowak uses that line as a condescending quip to avoid some pointed questions from her students’ even as she’s starting to desperately wish it were true.

Carla (Leonie Benesch, fantastic) teaches 12-year-olds at a German grade school. Carla exchanges small talk with her fellow teachers, and doesn’t look away when she notices one who helps herself to what’s in the office coffee fund jar just minutes after Carla donated some change.

It’s a small but meaningful moment that writer/director Ilker Çatak uses to effectively illustrate Carla’s idealism, and to foreshadow her coming clash with reality.

The conflict begins to simmer when Carla witnesses two other teachers try to coerce some “good” students into naming who they think might be behind the recent rash of thefts at the school. Carla objects to the line of questioning, and reacts by using her wallet and laptop camera to set a trap and expose the guilty party.

What follows is a tense and utterly fascinating parable of accusation, distrust, paranoia and anger that has garnered an Oscar nomination for Best International Feature. Çatak crafts the school community as a Petri dish of contrasting agendas, one where teachers, students and parents fight for claims on the moral high ground.

Benesch is simply wonderful. Carla’s care for her students is never in doubt, but as the gravity of her situation begins to dawn on her, Benesch often only needs her wide eyes and tightened jawline to deliver Carla’s increasingly desperate mix of emotions.

As perspectives change, you may be reminded of Ruben Östlund’s insightful Force Majeure. But with The Teacher’s Lounge, Çatak moves the conversation to how the tribal nature of modern society can lead to separate realities, and how quickly those dug-in heels can be weaponized.

Hey, Barbie

Sometimes I Think About Dying

by Hope Madden

Sometimes I Think About Dying feels like the farthest from Star Wars an actor can go. And I like Star Wars, but still, I mean that as a good thing.

Rather than taking place in a galaxy far, far away, director Rachel Lambert’s film takes place in a set of cubicles inside an office near the ocean of a small Washington town. Daisy Ridley (who also produces) plays Fran. Fran likes spreadsheets, almost never talks, and sometimes she thinks about dying.

That is, until Robert (Dave Merheje) takes the cubicle recently vacated by Carol (Marcia DeBonis), who retired and went on a cruise. Robert’s outgoing, as all of Fran’s office mates seem to be, but there is one difference. Robert realizes Fran exists. And now suddenly, as she sits alone in her very modest apartment after eating a microwaved meal of meat patty covered in cottage cheese, Fran no longer thinks about dying. She thinks about Robert.

Lambert’s film benefits immeasurably from an incredibly lived-in, authentic environment. Though each character has its charm, each one also feels apiece of this world. Sometimes I Think About Dying doesn’t satirize the world of the cubicle as The Office or Office Space. It just understands it–recognizes the banality and camaraderie and sparks of humanity and humor.

What Lambert and Ridley mine beautifully is the difficulty people face when they’re trying desperately to be normal, and the only way they can manage is to be utterly invisible. The longing that comes to life in Fran’s face, her slow thaw to tenderness, vulnerability, brittleness, and panic testifies to Ridley’s versatility.

The full ensemble is a delight, but Merheje is particularly perfect in this role. His own insecurity and loneliness bubble to the surface as he tries and fails to figure Fran out and just have a normal relationship.

Working from a script by Stefanie Abel Horowitz (which she adapts from her acclaimed short), Kevin Armento, and Katy Wright-Mead, Lambert shies away from the morbid or fantastical that exists in the tale. It exists, but it’s accepted lightly in a film that is quiet. It sneaks up on you, like death or like love. And it shows an impressive, introspective side of Ridley.

Arhat Get Your Gun

The Monk and the Gun

by Matt Weiner

What if you took the interlocking stories of a Pulp Fiction, but all the gunplay was in the service of a hopeful Buddhist fable?

It’s a fantastical idea, but the film recognizes that so is the sight of a peaceful country being “forced” to go through the early throes of democratic governance. For The Monk and the Gun, there’s no great upheaval accompanying these sweeping changes.

Instead, Pawo Choyning Dorji’s delightful second feature (after 2019’s Oscar-nominated Lunana: A Yak in the Classroom) takes place in the aftermath of the King of Bhutan choosing to abdicate the throne and hold modern elections.

The rural village of Ura is holding mock elections to help prepare its residents, whose reactions to the abdication range from apathy or disinterest to outright hostility toward those voting for parties that do not seem aligned with the former monarch’s views.

Tshering Yangden (Pema Zangmo Sherpa), an elections official from the city, arrives in town to oversee the practice election and educate voters on why democracy matters. Her big city assurances about the great import of the election contrast with Ura’s locals, who question if they really need something that they don’t have to fight for.

As Yangden grapples with proving that democracy is as sacred as the campaign posters around the village proclaim, the village Lama (Kelsang Choejey) instructs his monk Tashi (Tandin Wangchuk) to bring two guns for the full moon ceremony so that the lama can “make things right” in the presence of the election official.

Tashi diligently follows his master’s odd (and unsettling) request, which gets the unassuming young monk caught up with an unscrupulous American gun collector (Harry Einhorn) and the criminal underbelly of Bhutan. While The Monk and the Gun is mostly bucolic satire, it’s a credit to writer/director Dorji that the ominous unease surrounding the ceremony persists up until the very end. Being given the means to control your life—and your national destiny—is serious stuff. But along the way, his film pokes both inward at itself and outward at the west, suggesting that nobody has a monopoly on the best way forward for a community.

Island Vibes

Ghostwritten

by Brandon Thomas

Guy Laury (Jay Duplass of TV’s Transparent) is eight years removed from the release of his successful first novel. Drowning in self-doubt and a healthy dose of writer’s block, Guy accepts an offer to travel to Nantucket Island for an isolated writing retreat. As Guy’s artistic inspiration remains elusive, he begins to wonder if there’s something sinister occurring in the house he’s staying in or maybe even with the entire island community itself. 

So much of Ghostwritten’s success is found in mood and atmosphere. The gorgeous black & white cinematography brings the remote coldness of Nantucket Island to life in a way that chills to the bone. Bursts of color appear randomly to signify Guy’s splintering state of mind–whether it be hallucinations or vivid dreams. It’s an interesting approach to highlight the lack of cohesion surrounding Guy’s perception of what’s real and what isn’t. The abstract weirdness of the film helps keep the audience on its toes and continually asking if Guy is an unreliable narrator or is something kooky really going on.

Duplass plays Guy as a man constantly at war with his own desires. One can almost see Guy’s ego swell on screen when an Island’s residents tells him that they loved his first book. He loves the idea of being a writer and the praise it brings him, but actually putting the work in to write seems almost insurmountable to Guy. That the supposed haunting and other strange occurrences might be an elaborate way for Guy to put off writing is both depressing and mischievously funny. 

Given Duplass’s non-acting work (he co-wrote Jeff, Who Lives At Home, Cyrus, and Baghead with his brother Mark), the abundance of comedy in Ghostwritten shouldn’t come as a surprise. Yes, there are legitimate attempts at scares and an unnerving tone, but the charming quirkiness of the film is undeniable and ultimately what makes the film stand out from this type of isolated genre fare. 

Ghostwritten wades into a lot of familiar territory (The Wicker Man being an easy homage), but it does so with a quirky lead performance and an oddball approach to mood an atmosphere.