Tag Archives: Heather Matarazzo

What’s New Pussycat?

Booger

by Hope Madden

There’s a particular feeling that often accompanies grief. It’s the feeling of being unmoored, of somehow not really knowing who you are without the person you’ve lost. Writer/director Mary Dauterman details that feeling as well as the mixture of depression, numbness, confusion, and a desire to escape your own reality with her weirdly gross feature debut, Booger.

That’s the name of a cat. Izzy (Sofia Dobrushin) let the mangy stray in through the window one day, much to the dismay of best friend and roommate Anna (Grace Glowicki). It was filthy. Nasty. But Booger grew on Anna, and then, the same day Izzy dies in a bike accident, Anna realizes Booger is missing.

Her aimless quest to find her dead friend’s missing cat and her own slow transformation into a mangy, filthy, nasty beast give Anna the opportunity to avoid dealing with Izzy’s death.

Dauterman gets points for puncturing the nobility of grief and tapping into its necessary selfishness and cognitive dysfunction. Additional points for just being as gross as possible about it.

Glowicki’s awkward, strangely relatable performance helps Dauterman create a tone that’s simultaneously fantastical and banal. Anna’s own loosening grip on reality is balanced by a wonderfully honest turn from Marcia DeBonis (Sometimes I Think About Dying) as Izzy’s mom. Heather Matarazzo delivers a fine cameo in a role, like several in the film, that offset the unpleasantness with broad but dark humor.

The body horror elements are never done to terrify, but they may very well make you gag.

The dramedy doesn’t dig terribly deep, and Dauterman does not complicate the plot. We’re along for the ride as Anna lets her life crumble around her while she imagines she’s turning into a feral cat so she can avoid facing her friend’s death.

The character study pretty studiously avoids letting us get to know Anna’s character. She’s lost who she is and can’t seem to move on. Still, a committed, wryly comical turn from Glowicki and Dauterman’s insightful if unexpected direction ensure a memorable and strangely affecting film.

Family Man

The Mattachine Family

by Rachel Willis

At the heart of director Andy Vallentine’s The Mattachine Family is a story about the families you build in life—the people who aren’t related to you by blood but may know you better than anyone else in the world.

Guiding us through this world is Thomas (Nico Tortorella). A photographer by trade, his images pepper the film, generally accompanied by long moments of exposition. The film opens with one of the longest voiceovers I’ve seen in a film, images flashing across the screen as Thomas introduces us to his story. It’s a curious way to establish characters, rather than letting the story unfold more organically.

Similar scenes periodically interrupt the film, taking you out of the moments developing between characters. This gives things an episodic quality, but the interruption and exposition never cover anything that couldn’t be conveyed in a more natural way.

Thomas’s central conflict is his relationship with husband Oscar (Juan Pablo Di Pace) and their debate over whether to bring a child into their lives. The characters spend most of the film separated, limiting our chance to develop feelings for Oscar’s side of the debate.

Despite this being Thomas’s story, he comes across as selfish, never really considering how his husband feels. There’s no sense of partnership, which is where the couple’s problem truly lies.

A bright spot is Heather Matarazzo’s turn as an internet influencer who chides her child’s father for not dressing him in the “right” outfit for a photo shoot. That the outfits are indistinguishable to an outside observer gives the film its only truly humorous moment.

The Mattachine Family tackles some interesting issues that come up in the lives of LGBTQ+ couples, but the conflicts aren’t effectively fleshed out. Dialogue repeats rather than enhancing how the characters feel, effectively sabotaging any feelings the audience might have for their struggles.

While narrative voiceovers can have a place in a movie (can even strengthen them), in this case we might have had a more relatable story if they weren’t relied on so heavily.