Synopsis:Two young brothers explore Lagos with their estranged father during the 1993 Nigerian election crisis, witnessing both the city’s magnitude and their father’s daily struggles as political unrest threatens their journey home.
From a childโs perspective, the world, adult by necessity, is a giant mystery. We do not understand the process of the world, at large. But more importantly, we are protected from even our parentโs experience of that world. We must be protected from the complex, difficult reality. This is true no matter the individual context, but becomes especially true in times of great change. Given our own context in the world right now, it is not difficult to imagine the struggles of parents during a period of political upheaval. But this is not the first time, nor the last, that parents will have to make these kinds of decisions. How much can children be told? What can they handle? And even more importantly, how do we remain close to them despite the forced distance of life?
My Fatherโs Shadow, a purposefully distant but deeply emotional resonant film, follows Folarin (Sopรฉ Dรฌrรญsรน) and his two young sons, Aki (Godwin Egbo) and Remi (Chibuike Marvelous Egbo) in 1993 Nigeria. As the film opens, it becomes immediately clear that we are meant to be in the shoes of the two young protagonists, as the camera angles up at Dรฌrรญsรน, making us feel the size and power differential immediately. This is one of many choices that Davies Jr. employs that gives the film both a sense of reality and tangibility which draws the viewer closer, despite the possibility of missing context related to Nigerian history. Given that this is his first feature, Davies Jr. shows incredible acumen and skill from the opening frames and never wavers in tone or prowess. Terms like โone to watchโ are thrown around by critics constantly, but Akinola Davies Jr. is truly gifted and in need of immediate notice.
This possible missing context of Nigerian life actually ends up being a positive, as most children are unaware of the political machinations of governments, as well. As Folarin guides his children through the city of Lagos, they are introduced to many new experiences; including stories of their parentโs love, possible infidelity, the mystery of their fatherโs past, the struggles of class, and, god forbid, food with onions. As most viewers have also never visited Lagos, the opening half of the movie, in many ways, is also an education for us. Davies Jr. also uses side conversations and television reporting of violence (along with constant military presence) and elections to major effect, keeping us tied to that particular moment in time.
The film also jumps in time, using obvious cuts to black, and picking up later in the day. In this way, the director incites the idea of memories. After all, looking back, even on our most memorable times, we cannot remember the entire day, verbatim. Instead, these moments are frozen in time, while still being broken, amorphous and sometimes confused. But when the film decides to spend time in one place, there is a reason. Sitting on the beach, Folarin details the story of his brother to his oldest child, Remi. Finally, just for a moment, we see the reality of the father, becoming fully human in our (and his sonโs) eyes. Dรฌrรญsรนโs performance, particularly in this scene, makes one wonder why he has not yet become a massive star. His ability to be present, along with his delivery of his characterโs continued grief tells us everything we need to know about Folarin. The camera, guided by cinematographer Jermaine Canute Bradley Edwards, finally takes a moment to linger in the sand with father and sons, to great effect. In the midst of pain and strife, family life continues.
The choice to shoot My Fatherโs Shadow on 16mm film gives much needed texture. It gives us the impression that the world created here can be touched, only to dissipate when we get too close. This clearly parallels the boysโ visit to Lagos with their father. As they are raised in the country, this new world in the city is strange, frightening, and intoxicating. And the same can be said of their father, a man who clearly loves them but has made sacrifices that take him away from them and their mother.
As Folarin says, โEverything is sacrifice, you just have to pray you donโt sacrifice the wrong thing.โ This is a powerful statement that every adult understands, while children are left to puzzle. While children sacrifice toys and food, adults sacrifice something much more important, time. We must make these sacrifices, especially with children, so life can continue in a cruel world. This becomes especially difficult because children cannot understand why this must be so, at least not until many years later. And for many of us, by then it is too late to be understood. My Fatherโs Shadow is a truly beautiful film about sacrifice, memory, and family. It is rare that greatness in an auteur is so immediately evident as it is from Akinola Davies Jr., but this film is legitimate, clear proof of this fact.
In the midst of a battle for democracy, this film offers us a deeper look at how we are to process familial loss in the long run. Even when we remember our parents, do we remember them as they were? Or is it more surreal than that? Our connection in these small moments, the lessons they taught us, and yes, the sacrifices they made, help us understand their importance in our lives. And sometimes, when we lose them, all we can do is remember as we cry.
This week on the InSession Film Podcast, we dive into some Gore Verbinski as we rank his ten feature films, from Mouse Hunt all the way to A Cure For Wellness! Not all of his films work, but his ambitious vision has always been something we’ve admired.
– Super Bowl / Halftime Show / SB Trailers (2:02) After some opening banter, we start the show by discussing this year’s Super Bowl and halftime show, which featured one of the best in recent years if you ask us. We also got some Super Bowl trailers, including a surprise teaser for the new Cliff Booth movie from David Fincher. It very much looks like a fusion of Tarantino and Fincher, and it has us quite intrigued.ย
– Evil Dead Trilogy (32:30) After our Sam Raimi draft last week, and revisiting his iconic Evil Dead movies in preparation for that conversation, we wanted to devote an entire segment to them. Evil Dead II is pretty much a remake of its predecessor, but it’s as masterful of a horror-comedy as you can get. The first Evil Dead is astounding given the budget it was operating under, and Army of Darkness is as silly as it gets.ย
– Gore Verbinski Ranking (1:05:19) Once again, this is a consensus ranking between both JD and Brendan, which is the fun of this exercise as we have to put our heads together and debate where each film lands. However, in this case, it wasn’t nearly as challenging as Gore Verbinski is just one of our guys. We love the flawed ambition of his movies, and Pirates of the Caribbean is simply one of the best trilogies of the last thirty years. We had a lot of fun with this conversation. That said, what did you think of our ranking?
Good Luck, Have Fun, Don’t Die / Wuthering Heights
Help Support The InSession Film Podcast
If you want to help support us, there are several ways you can help us and we’d absolutely appreciate it. Every penny goes directly back into supporting the show and we are truly honored and grateful. Thanks for your support and for listening to the InSession Film Podcast!
We are in the heart of awards season, with Oscar nominations recently announced and the countdown to the annual ceremony officially underway. Multiple categories have sparked mainstream conversation, including the newly added Best Casting. But one competitive field that often flies under the radar is Best Animated Short.
This year, the category turns 94, making it one of the Academy Awardsโ oldest honors, surpassing fields such as Film Editing, Original Score, and Original Song. That legacy alone makes it worthy of deeper discussion, especially as this yearโs lineup proves to be one of the more competitive races in recent memory. Letโs take a closer look at the nominees for Best Animated Short Film and determine who stands the best chance of taking home the gold. Note: All five Oscar-nominated animated short films are available on YouTube and linked below.
Butterfly is a French biographical short inspired by the life of Alfred Nakache, a Jewish Olympic swimmer who reflects on both the beauty and trauma of his life, from childhood to senior age. The film employs a distinctive hand-drawn, pastel-painted animation style that is signature to Miailheโs work. Its grainy, fluid textures evoke oceanic metaphors of love, memory, and loss, immersing the viewer in a deeply tactile experience. The short balances historical weight with emotional warmth, telling a mature story that carries the gentle spirit of a classic childrenโs book. Itโs an evocative meditation on survival, identity, and healing in the shadow of the Holocaust.
Forevergreen tells the story of an orphaned bear who is raised by an evergreen tree, only to place their bond in jeopardy through his reckless appetite for trash. Among the nominees, this United States production is the most traditionally accessible. Forevergreen is a non-dialogue, family-friendly 3D animated short built on a familiar emotional framework. While formulaic on the surface, Forevergreen distinguishes itself through a rigid, paper-crafted aesthetic and raw consequences. Its themes of gratitude, patience, and sacrificial love are clearly communicated without feeling hollow. The shortโs closing quote from John 15:13โโGreater love has no one than this, that someone lays down his life for his friendโโ serves as a fitting capstone, reinforcing its notions of emotional sincerity.
This Canadian stop-motion fable tells the haunting story of an abused girl gifted with supernatural tears, the poor boy who loves her, and the greed that ultimately corrupts good intentions. The choice of stop motion is well-suited to the shortโs intentionally bleak, messy tone, reinforcing its themes of desperation and moral decay. The puppetry favors limited facial expressions and non-moving mouths, relying heavily on voice-over narration in an old-fashioned storytelling approach. Supported by striking art direction and sound design, The Girl Who Cried Pearls may be the most narratively daring of the nominees, particularly due to its ambiguous ending.
Retirement Plan follows Ray, a senior citizen who daydreams about all the adventures heโll pursue once he finally retires. Sometimes playing it simple is the strongest narrative tool, and the short leans fully into that philosophy. Its minimal 2D animation reflects a life of routine and unfulfilled potential, contrasting sharply with the vibrant freedom Ray envisions. The dialogue is straightforward yet poetic, elevated by Domhnall Gleesonโs unforgettable vocal performance. Soft spoken, humorous, and quietly layered, the film becomes a moving reflection on time, longing, and the courage to embrace the extraordinary before itโs too late.
Representing Israel, Cyprus, and Russia, The Three Sisters centers on three women living on a remote island whose daily routines are challenged when they rent out a room to a stranger. While the short adopts a mildly experimental structure, its strongest asset lies in its visual conviction. Set entirely in one location, the film embraces a 2D storybook cadence filled with exaggerated physical comedy and unapologetic cartoon hijinks. Though it may lack the emotional depth of its fellow nominees, its technical craftsmanship and comedic timing are delivered with confidence and clarity.
Predicting Best Animated Short can be deceptively difficult. At times, the category follows clear frontrunners such as Pixarโs Bao at the 91st Oscars or The Boy, the Mole, the Fox and the Horse at the 95th. Other years, the race delivers genuine surprises, like In the Shadow of the Cypress overtaking the heavily favored Wander To Wonder at last yearโs 97th ceremony.
While precursors like the Annie Awards, BAFTAs, and major festivals offer guidance, they aren’t foolproof. Even Dear Basketball won the 90th Oscars despite losing ground to more precursor-friendly shorts like Negative Space and Garden Party. With that in mind, any of this yearโs nominees could take the victory.
That said, patterns still matter.
Given recent voting trends, The Three Sisters appears to face the most challenging uphill battle to win. Despite Bronzitโs having multiple nominations with a potential overdue narrative, the short lacks the emotional gravitas the category often favors.
The Girl Who Cried Pearls may face similar challenges. While stop motion once dominated this category in the 1990s and 2000s, recent winners suggest the branch now gravitates toward broader accessibility of evolved animation styles. Its darker tone and ambiguous ending may bottleneck its appeal to the Academy compared to its co-nominees.
That narrows the race to Butterfly, Forevergreen, and Retirement Plan. Butterfly carries thematic weight that the Academy often appreciates, but Best Animated Short has increasingly rewarded more universally uplifting stories. As a result, it may operate best as a dark horse contender, especially if youโre feeling risky to go for an underdog pick.
Ultimately, the race appears to come down to Forevergreen and Retirement Plan. If we’re talking safe prediction, Forevergreen takes the edge, combining technical ambition, emotional clarity, and a universally relatable message. Retirement Plan remains a strong alternative, but its restrained animation style could hinder its chances to win.
Directors: Charles Kinnane, Daniel Kinnane Writers: Kevin James, John Kinnane, Patrick Kinnane Stars:Kevin James, Nicole Grimaudo, Kim Coates
Synopsis: Left heartbroken in Rome after a wedding disaster, a stranded groom finds his ruined honeymoon transformed by a determined local, and a few meddling travelersโproving that sometimes heartbreak is only the beginning.
Synopsis: Left heartbroken in Rome after a wedding disaster, a stranded groom finds his ruined honeymoon transformed by a determined local and a few meddling travelers, proving that sometimes heartbreak is only the beginning.
Romantic comedies seem to be a tough sell at movie theaters. The once sure-fire genre has shifted heavily toward at-home streaming. They seem to be pumped into the content mills, with beautiful, sometimes vacant faces, selling us the mythos of deep emotional connections built over an hour and a half. If a rom-com makes it to the big screen, it has to have some kind of gimmick. Recently, because, aside from superheroes and sequels, it’s the only other genre that makes a real impact on the box office, rom-coms have been hitched to horror. A serial killer chasing the new couple (Heart Eyes), the monster in the closet is actually really sweet (Your Monster), or the best mate is the one you make yourself (Lisa Frankenstein). Yet, Solo Mio is about as straightforward as a rom-com can be, and it’s refreshing to see a new entry into the storied genre.
It’s not a perfect film in many ways. Its blend of the lonely, aging man, like Marty, and the jilted, confused man, like in Forgetting Sarah Marshall, is at times a bit out of sync. Solo Mio, while maintaining our understanding that this type of narrative requires some suspension of disbelief, doesn’t connect every dot properly. The most confounding piece is that Matt (Kevin James) has no close friends or family in Rome with whom to confide. The wedding scene must be just a room full of strangers because none of them tries to console or talk to him. They don’t even really react when he leaves the venue to search for Heather (Julie Ann Emery), his runaway bride. In fact, when the wedding planner (Julia Messina) calls him asking what to do, the people in the background are just enjoying the reception. None of them call him or try to talk to him, except his mother, who didn’t seem to make the journey. It’s quite jarring to see a room full of people who travelled 4000 miles for him, not caring one way or the other about this devastating moment in his life.
This leaves room for the pushy fellow tourists on Matt’s honeymoon package, led by the thrice-married to the same woman Julian (Kim Coates), to do what Matt’s closest and dearest couldn’t be bothered to do. This crew is the heart of the film. They often have the best lines and the most fun, being the “ugly American” stereotypes. They’re unapologetically for Matt, and it’s fun to watch their cheerleading. Unfortunately, they give absolutely terrible advice. They are well-intentioned, but their own relationships are kind of hopeless, and it is fun to watch these people who stick with each other through their trainwrecks because they know what they’re getting.
The piece of the story that the writers Kevin James, John Kinnane, and Patrick Kinnane could have better developed is that the messy, complicated nature of relationships is often a deeply lonely affair. The truths Matt is realizing throughout the film are intriguing, and as much as he’s falling head over heels again, he realizes it’s just better to have someone with whom he can be himself than just someone to be with. The catharsis for Matt right before the grand gesture that ends the film may be the best part of the whole thing. It encapsulates a lot of the fear of loneliness that takes hold in mature relationships, a fear rarely addressed in the perky new adult rom-coms that dominate the genre.
That idea of being alone is captured perfectly in the scenes of Matt taking the tour as a single among couples. Directors Charles and Daniel Kinnane, along with their cinematographer Jared Fadel, craft scenes that cut through the noise of the people in love around Matt. In a beautiful, simple shot, this team creates a great impact. Matt sits alone on the Spanish Steps. It’s a medium shot, but slowly the camera zooms out. Even when you think the zoom is enough to understand just how adrift Matt is, the zoom continues, and we’re left with a wide shot of Matt, who has no one else closer than ten feet to him. The sea of people around him is made up of couples, groups of friends, and families. He’s an island, pining and thinking, but unable to express himself.
Solo Mio is a cute rom-com. It’s not reinventing the genre or crossing over with something wholly at odds with its romance premise. It’s simply a human love story. It may be easy to predict, a bit too cheesy with some things, strains credulity, and rarely is laugh-out-loud funny, but it gets you in the heartstrings. It’s sweet, tender, and charming, and worth seeking out if you’re a fan of the genre.
Director:Renny Harlin Writer:Alan Freedland, Alan R. Cohen Stars: Madelaine Petsch, Gabriel Basso, Richard Brake
Synopsis: Tethered by a frightening conclusion, Maya and the Strangers are locked on an unavoidable, unforgiving collision course โ a showdown that proves theyโre far from strangers now.
Itโs hard to imagine back in 2008 that Bryan Bertinoโs The Strangers would eventually culminate in a new trilogy of films where each entry is more mind-numbing than the last, but Renny Harlinโs Strangers trilogy is unfortunately a reality. The previous films of the trilogy have been bogged down by predictable plotlines, airless tension, and the blandest characters, but believe it or not, Chapter 3 doubles down in nearly every negative aspect throughout its runtime. There are barely any attempts at scares, tension is non-existent, and any attempts at further delving into the backstory of these characters are so laughable that it’s indistinguishable from a CW TV show. Even with the most thematically interesting concepts and character dynamics at play among the main cast, the film simply picks them up and drops them as it pleases, with no rhyme or reason to anything that occurs in the narrative. The Strangers: Chapter 3is such a failure of a finale for what was once a nerve racking franchise that you have no choice to wonder at the end of the road what the point of this trilogy was besides filling backstory that was meant to be empty in the first place; truly the most meaningless collection of films inflicted upon the cinematic landscape in some time.
After a quite literally unneeded cold open that doesn’t even have the decency of being clever in any aspect, Chapter 3 picks up right after 2โs conclusion, where Maya (Madelaine Petsch) killed the stranger known as Pin-Up girl. The Scarecrow stranger, introduced as Gregory in the previous film (Gabriel Basso), was in a relationship with a Pin-Up girl and mourns her loss before dispatching her as a loss within their plight. Gregory then begins his hunt for Maya throughout the tiny town of Venus, seeking her to take Pin-Up Girl’s place as a killer and, potentially, as a new lover. We also pick up with Sheriff Rotter (Richard Brake), whose shady activities within chapter 2 are finally unveiled here as an essential cog in the machine behind The Strangers’ seemingly random killings. With Mayaโs sister persistent in finding her, she must try her best to survive the terror that awaits her throughout the night, as she looks to escape from the strangers and the town of Venus once and for all.
The insane predictability within every jumpscare, plot beat, and kill within Chapter 3 is nothing new within the standards of this monotonous trilogy, but what makes it exceedingly frustrating here is the actual small scrap of a decent idea thematically here and there. There’s a line or two near the film’s beginning that vaguely centers on the idea that religious cultism is part of the reason The Strangers do what they do. It certainly wouldnโt be groundbreaking, but it’s a shame the film does nothing with this and instead indulges in frivolous origin story plights.
As I mentioned in my previous review of Chapter 2, providing a backstory for the strangers basically ignores the whole reason they were scary in the first place: we didn’t know anything about them or why they decided to randomly kill people. This film literally opens its title card with an “eerie” message that defines the term “serial killer,” discusses how theyโre normally strangers, and yet these films seem to do everything but make the strangers actually scary. The movie doesnโt even show much impact at all on the multiple axe swings and bloody dismemberments that occur despite its R rating.ย
It does help matters when the actual flashback and mystery elements surrounding everything happening in this town are either just made up on a whim or the most basic reveals ever as the film goes along. There exists no firm structure to any of the storytelling here, and the prequel nonsense the movie is so obsessed with explaining is just as boring as everything else that occurs in this shitty trilogy. Just when you think things can’t get even sadder, we reach the filmโs climax, which definitely wants you to feel for these multiple characters weโve spent our time with (especially Maya), and it’s impossible to muster even an ounce of care or really any emotion besides boredom. Madelaine Petsch tries her best to bring any sort of catharsis to anything happening on the screen, but at a point, she becomes just as wooden as the rest of the cast around her, who are done absolutely no favors by such a nothing conclusion to a trilogy that shouldn’t have been one film, much less three.
Now that the nightmares of this terrible Strangers trilogy have finally come to an end, in retrospect, despite Chapters 1 and 2 also being awful, I could at least somewhat see what they were attempting as singular films. Chapter 1 attempted to adopt the silent, unsettling nature of Bertinoโs original film, which worked so well, and Chapter 2 tried its hand at an extended chase scene of thrills and tension, though it failed miserably. Chapter 3 was such a tedious mess of nonsense that I canโt even tell what its ultimate goal was besides mercifully ending things, and I suppose that just shows how thoroughly broken the central concept of these three films was from the very beginning.
Don’t be sad that The Strangers franchise is over, be happyโฆโฆ..that it’s FINALLY over.
Covering Sundance virtually was exciting because of the stacked slate they made available to online viewers. From female-directed standouts like Josephine to the lyrical mythology of If I Go Will They Miss Me, there was something for every kind of festivalgoer. And with the festival moving next year to Boulder, Colorado, it marks the final year in its hometown and the first since the tragic loss of its founder, Robert Redford. Now we just have to wait for the next weeks, months, and even years to see which of these films gets bought up and put into theaters for all to enjoy.
While the online category of films is fewer than the in-person version of Sundance, the quality of the films is just as impressive. Filled with debut features and first-time performances that remind us of the power of independent cinema. Here are 5 standouts from the festival that exemplify the importance of filmmaking through their impactful stories and ambitious choices.
5. Night Nurse โ Georgia Bernstein
If there were one single word to describe Georgia Bernstein’s debut feature Night Nurse, it would be โunpredictable.โ A young nurse, Eleni (Cemre Paksoy), gets a new job at a retirement home, where her assigned patient, Douglas (Bruce McKenzie), requires more care than she expected. When the two begin to show less professional interest in one another, Douglas brings her into his world of scam calls and drug parties, where they both get lost in the situation, only for jealousy to arise when Douglas turns his attention to other young women in his nurse entourage. Bernstein draws on many of the genreโs best, using voyeurism to make us question whether we should be witnessing what she shows us. It’s an exciting film whose psychosexual nature keeps each moment more engaging than the last.
4. Silenced โ Selina Miles
There’s something profoundly inspiring about Silenced, even as it’s terrifying. And with a title like that, Selina Miles’ documentary about a post-#MeToo world is suffocating. Featuring stories from women like Brittany Higgins and Amber Heard, who recount the trials that made them the internet’s punching bag. With international human rights lawyer Jennifer Robinson tying the stories together through a shared struggle against defamation laws. Miles uses well-researched statistics from women across the globe, showing how low false report numbers are and how the legal system was made to question victims more than anything. It was emotional to watch as women of all ages talk about their abuse and how the progression and regression of women’s rights come in wavesโan unfortunate historical repetition that needs to end.
3. Lady โ Olive Nwosu
There’s a lot to love from Lady, from its use of music from Sade to its ability to transport us into the streets of Lagos. Olive Nwosu directs and writes this peek into the life of Lady (Jessica Gabrielโs Ujah), a female cab driver working to save money to start fresh in Sierra Leone, specifically Freetown. As she deals with the patriarchal constraints of her home and the rising costs of gas, she has to face the past that she does her best to ignore. An old friend, Pinky (Amanda Oruh), reenters Lady’s life after years of being estranged; now a sex worker, Pinky needs her friend now more than ever. Nwosu’s debut shows the importance of community through female friendship and how deep the bond goes when things get tough. She focuses on how Lagos is in turmoil, with citizens calling for a revolution, reflected in the spirit of Lady, who finds that women must advocate for one another if they want to see change.
2. Josephine โ Beth de Araรบjo
Children don’t get to be children long enough, especially little girls. Beth de Araรบjo’s crime drama Josephine focuses on the life of 8-year-old Josephine (Mason Reeves), who witnesses a brutal sexual assault. A depiction of sexual assault that is extremely hard to watch, making it an unshakable thought throughout the remainder of the film. A perspective that films rarely explore is how these crimes impact the children who are exposed to them, when they don’t have the language to even describe what they’ve seen or the knowledge of the acts. Araรบjo isn’t trying to answer all the questions the film poses, but it offers a realistic view of how families navigate uncharted waters. Reevesโ performance is captivating, with her genuine confusion and sense of morality making it easy to see your childhood self in her.
1. If I Go Will They Miss Me โ Walter Thompson-Hernรกndez
One of the most poetic films from Sundance this year is If I Go Will They Miss Me, based on the short film of the same name by writer and director Walter Thompson-Hernรกndez. Revolving around Lil Ant (Bodhi Dell), an imaginative young boy with a love for Greek mythology, and his fractured relationship with his father, Big Ant (J. Alphonse Nicholson). Both are connected by their names and the visions they see, but they cannot communicate with one another. Thompson-Hernรกndez swept me off my feet with the fantastical aspects of Lil Ant getting lost in his art and in his view of his father. A deeply honest portrayal of how hard it is to heal lost time and how a father wants to shield his son from a world that wants to keep him grounded.
This week on Women InSession, we discuss our favorite Disney animated films and why some of their boldest, more sophisticated films come from a different era! Even if some of their new movies are still pretty good too. The Renaissance Era probably comes to mind first for most people, understandably so, but we also dig into some older classics that deliver a style and tone we wish Disney would go back to in some way.
Panel: Kristin Battestella, Megan Kearns
On that note, check out this week’s show and let us know what you think in the comment section. Thanks for listening and for supporting the InSession Film Podcast!
Synopsis: It’s summer, and 11-year-old Iris is running wild through the streets with her older friend Danae when she learns her estranged father, Aris, is back in town for his own father’s funeral.
Our first glance of young Iris (Maria Petrova) tells us so much about her character that the audience immediately settles into the warm grooves of the film sheโs at the center of. The film in question is Hold Onto Me, the debut feature from Cypriot filmmaker Myrsini Aristidou. Iris is 11 years old, roaming the streets of Cyprus in cut-off overalls with a sagging, oversized blue backpack swinging around behind her. She fraternizes with the older gentlemen playing card games outside her home in passing. She seems to be out and about more often than not. And when sheโs not traversing her neighborhood and beyond by foot, sheโs on the back of a moped being driven around by her older friend, Danae. Despite all the wondrous potential such a youthful childhood might seemingly hold on paper, her quiet demeanor and longing gaze reveals otherwise. Getting into adventurous shenanigans with Danae on the beautiful Mediterranean Sea seems to bring her some joy. But aside from these boating excursions, 11-year-old Iris appears to be filling her time however possible. Given that her older brother whoโd much rather hang out with his girlfriend, her mother constantly working to stay afloat, and a father who has long been out of the picture, it would appear Irisโ childhood is being consumed by a hushed loneliness.
Christos Passalis and Maria Petrova appear in HOLD ONTO ME (ฮฯฮฌฯฮฑ ฮฮต) by Myrsini Aristidou, an official selection of the 2026 Sundance Film Festival. Courtesy of Sundance Institute | photo by Lasse Ulvedal Tolbรธll.
Thereโs a genuine sadness that permeates through much of Hold Onto Me. Despite that, it doesn’t take long to find ourselves becoming immersed within Aristidouโs beautiful style of filmmaking. Her evocative imagery is more than just arresting. It often reflects Iris simply and contemplatively gazing at her surroundings. In hoping to find a break amidst the monotony she feels so isolated by, she seeks companionship wherever itโs available. The unspoken ways Aristidou conveys this speaks to an undeniable talent behind the camera. As Iris sits in quiet observance on the periphery of young adults double her age, itโs easy to feel her isolation. The director is granting her performers and her locations the space to elicit the exact emotions necessary to drive this film towards its central ideas. Iris isnโt just dealing with the pain of not fitting in where she belongs; she seems to have lost the overall desire to fit in at all. Itโs crushing to imagine her believing whether or not the opportunity she craves is even feasible in the first place. But that possibility appears to change upon the return of her father, Aris (Christos Passalis).
Having virtually no memory of Aris as a newborn, Iris turns to an old photo album in the hopes of potentially dredging up something in her mind. Her brother takes notice and encourages her to โlet it go.โ Thatโs easier said than done, especially in Irisโ case. She may not have anything concrete to hold onto, and yet, letting go seems impossible now that her father is conceivably within reach for the first time. And so, what transpires over the middle act of the film feels like a wonderful ode to Paper Moon and films of a similar nature. Itโs not difficult to see why Arisโ presence is so alluring. For the audience and Iris alike, Passalisโ performance works wonders. Thereโs a dingy, gruff edge to him from the first moment he interacts with Iris, yet he slowly reveals a swagger thatโs undeniably charming. But Aristidou very quickly makes him a far more interesting character than the occasionally sly, deadbeat father grappling with the possibility of redemption. In Aris lies quite the broken individual, also grappling with the very real possibility that heโll never have a place he can truly belong. Both he and Iris seem to be affected by the same worry. And yet, they approach their responses to the fear from such differing angles. Where Iris would rather shut down, he canโt seem to slow down for even a moment.
Aris and Iris begin spending more time alongside one another amidst these lonely paths. And every time Aristidou sets up an opportunity for Aris to step up, he seems to toss it aside without any potential consideration. He instead has his sights set on escaping his current predicament as soon as possible. Being harassed by some sort of criminal collectors, the only reason he reappeared in the first place was to attend the funeral of his father. A sighting of Aris appears to be treated as something akin to a miracle if several character reactions can be used as evidence.ย And itโs easy to see why, as Iris and the audience become more attuned to his various scams and shenanigans. But in that beautiful yet potentially dangerous way childhood can warp a perspective, his behavior often comes across as enticing to Iris. But behind such actions lies the truth. Heโs a man who also had a somewhat broken relationship with his father, and is now left to pick up the pieces seemingly alone in the world. And despite his constant mistakes made while spending time with Iris, Aristidouโs script remains tender enough that we hope the two can mend whatever internal wounds remain, instead moving forward with some semblance of normalcy and genuine connection beyond that of the unconditional love between a father and daughter.
Maria Petrova appears in HOLD ONTO ME (ฮฯฮฌฯฮฑ ฮฮต) by Myrsini Aristidou, an official selection of the 2026 Sundance Film Festival. Courtesy of Sundance Institute | photo by Lasse Ulvedal Tolbรธll.
In the end, Hold Onto Me can occasionally feel a bit trite; yet such criticisms of originality lie purely on the surface level of this film. Aristidou has crafted a lowkey drama that still finds a way to pack loads of emotion into its runtime. Whatโs more shocking of an inclusion is the amount of thrill she also finds a way to wrap into her narrative. Hold Onto Me has a massively tense third act. The first time we see the beautifully blue waters of the Mediterranean Sea, it represents such potential for Irisโ life. The horizon stretches on and on as she is left to gaze admiringly at what the world has to offer. Aristidouโs climax instead frames those same waters as a dark, looming abyss. Should we be unable to steer ourselves off the destructive path of self-isolation and selfishness, it has the potential to swallow us up entirely. Aristidou grips her audience for as long as possible before loosening up for an immensely satisfying emotional resolution. Overall, this debut film reveals immense potential in a filmmaker like Aristidou. Her ability to blend evocative imagery in a beautifully captured setting alongside the emotional balancing act we seek through simple and effective character work signals a wondrous talent.
Hold Onto Me celebrated its World Premiere in the World Cinema Dramatic Competition at the 2026 Sundance Film Festival.
Synopsis:Once upon a time, Yuri was one of Japanโs deadliest assassins, but sheโs retired now and spends her days running an underground brothel. A news report about a former colleague who has died under mysterious circumstances doesnโt quite sit right. The dead manโs son is now the target of a military manhunt, and Yuri will do whatever it takes to keep him safe.
2026 already seems to shape itself as a generational year for genre cinema, and weโre off to a pretty decent start with Isao Yukisadaโs Revolver Lily, finally hitting North American video-on-demand devices after a release in Japan in 2023. The Isao Yukisada-directed war epic is a frequently enthralling and visually jaw-dropping motion picture, even if its opening scenes could lead viewers to expect a journey to pure cinema that is much wobblier than anticipated.
The story is relatively simple โ Yuki Ozone (Haruka Ayase), a former assassin, must protect Shinta Hosomi (Jinsei Hamura), the son of her former boss, after his mysterious death reeks of political corruption. However, Yukisada quickly elevates the material with raw images of tangible, painterly power and a bevy of well-mounted, tightly calibrated action that recalls the heroic bloodshed work of John Woo and Tsui Hark. Of course, this is much less anarchic in its visuals than Hard Boiled or A Better Tomorrow III: Love & Death in Saigon, but the bullets fired by Ozone in each close-knit fight or major shootout all hold meaning.
John Woo was probably the first filmmaker who gave significance to a bullet casing โ transforming them into tears being shed by its protagonists in The Killer or Bullet in the Head, which Tsui then cranked up (and deconstructed) in Time and Tide. In Revolver Lily, Yukisada seems to appropriate this revolutionary meaning to the bullets fired by its central protagonist, represented by the anguish Ozone feels as she returns to a life sheโs desperately trying to leave behind. The best parts of the film arenโt the action but the internal drama at the heart of Yukiโs plight, expressed through a litany of complex emotions as she feels compelled to protect Shinta without resorting to violence, until it sadly becomes essential for their survival.
You can tell by simply looking at Ayaseโs face that Yukiโs journey back to the field of work she wants no business being in is not something she wants to do. But Shintaโs survival currently trumps her personal feelings over killing people, which she is amazingly good at. However, Ayaseโs turn is remarkably soulful and profoundly human, a textured performance that gives Revolver Lily its raison dโรชtreand our emotional attachment to a story that sadly feels far too conventional to justify an overlong 139-minute runtime.
But Yukisada has a few tricks up his sleeve to keep us engaged, and they all involve a succession of action sequences that unfold after the main plot is laid out and the characters’ motivations become clearer. Yukisadaโs sense of rhythm, expressed by Tsuyoshi Imaiโs precise cutting (worthy of Sam Peckinpah and the aforementioned John Woo), keeps us on our toes during high-octane, supremely violent gunfights and surprisingly cathartic one-to-one brawls between Yuki and the numerous powerful antagonists who are all looking for Shinta and the documents he carries related to his father.ย
Only when the film reaches a rather underwhelming climax, where the action becomes more digitized, and the gritty, realistic textures of the gunfights suddenly transform into Fast & Furious logic, does Revolver Lily lose its grip on us. However, what comes before canโt entirely be dismissed, even if it will largely be unseen by the masses who prefer to not exceed the one-inch tall barrier of subtitles and stay within the confines of Hollywood. That said, if you love incredible, jaw-dropping action and compelling character work, you wonโt be disappointed at this must-see modern J-action picture that makes me more than curious to see what Yukisada will do nextโฆ
On this episode of Chasing the Gold, Shadan is joined by our own Will Bjarnar and Megan Loucks to recap this year’s Sundance Film Festival! The festival featured plenty of strong films, but a select few stood out as truly spectacular and we spotlight those in a big way. The Grand Jury Prize winner, Josephine, is especially one to keep on you radar.
Check out this week’s show and let us know what you think in the comment section. Thanks for listening and for supporting the InSession Film Podcast!
Synopsis:The renowned psychiatrist Lilian Steiner mounts a private investigation into the death of one of her patients, whom she is convinced has been murdered.
A common trope that runs through the vast history of cinema is the investigator who just cannot seem to halt their curiosity. Now, this behavior makes sense when the protagonist is an actual detective on a case, but often, we are placed in the shoes of someone who could, if they simply chose to, leave well enough alone and go back to their own life. Some truly great films, including Rear Window, Zodiac, and Blue Velvet, fall directly into this category. All of these protagonists could have lived a normal life, and all of them with willing romantic partners. But then again, it wouldnโt leave us with much of a movie.
Rebecca Zlotowski’s enjoyable, if uneven, A Private Life certainly dives headlong into this well-worn trope, along with some darkly funny moments. However, thankfully, there is a bit of a different and more intimate angle at play. Lilian Steiner (Jodie Foster) is a psychiatrist with a full slate of patients, along with her own troubled relationships. Foster, it should come as no surprise, handles a difficult role with ease, so much so that it is easy to forget that she is not a native French speaker. Despite the difficulties of performing in a second language, she manages to convey not only necessary emotionality, but her performance of silence speaks volumes, allowing us subtly inside her characterโs heart.
Almost immediately following her introduction, Lilianโs patient, Paula Cohen-Solal (a beautifully measured Viginie Efira), has died from a drug overdose. Worse, it is a drug that was prescribed by Lilian to help her sleep. This inciting incident is the perfect beginning for an exploration into not only this death (murder?), but also into the psyche of Lilian, herself. After attempting to attend the wake, after an odd invitation from Paulaโs daughter, Valรฉrie (Luร na Bajrami), she is kicked out immediately by the grieving husband, Simon (Mathieu Amalric). Strangely, this leads later to an odd emotional reaction from Lilian.
Lilian cannot stop crying. Well, crying may not be the right word. She claims to feel nothing, but one of her eyes seems to literally leak tears. And this is doubly odd, seeing as how she is closed off in many ways, especially towards her son and grandchild. Watching Foster, as a therapist who cannot control her emotion, is truly a gift. Her frustration, masking possible real emotion, is something I could watch for hours. In order to โtreatโ this sudden affliction, she visits her ophthalmologist, who we soon learn is her ex-husband, Gabriel (Daniel Auteuil). At first, they seem like a strange match (or ex-match, anyway), but watching them together for the rest of the film, it becomes clear that their bond, even if no longer romantic, is one to last a lifetime. The two performers match each other perfectly, seeming completely in sync, even when disagreeing on screen.
One of the things they disagree on, of course, is what really happened to Paula. There is nothing quite so unmooring for a therapist as losing a patient who showed no signs of suicidality.
Frankly, this film might have been better off staying the course, and avoiding some strange subplots that evoke fantasy and magical realism. It is never uninteresting, but Lilianโs visit to a hypnotist, copying a patient who is threatening to sue her after not being cured of nicotine addiction, wants desperately to delve into both Lilian and Paulaโs shared connection without doing the necessary work to make it truly effective. It should be noted, however, that these sequences are some of the most exciting visually, buoyed by Zlotowski and cinematographer George Lechaptoisโs use of deep color and subtle camera movement.ย
A Private Life takes a wild amount of twists and turns, some interesting, some nonsensical, and some both of the above. However, given that we are allowed to watch Jodie Foster, one of our great actors, traverse these bends in the road makes the film easily worth every minute of its runtime. Sure, it could have used a more focused throughline, but following along with this jagged mystery is rewarding all on its own.
Directors:Rob Bliss and Denise Alder Stars: Rob Bliss
Synopsis:White filmmaker Rob Bliss walks 1500 miles across the US wearing a Black Lives Matter t-shirt. He is challenged by Trump supporters and encounters both deep hostility and unexpected moments of connection.
White Man Walking takes a riskier, more exposed approach compared to previous political documentaries. Co-directed by Rob Bliss and Denise Alder, the film strips its premise down to a single, provocative gesture: a white man walking 1,500 miles across the United States wearing a Black Lives Matter T-shirt. From that deceptively simple act unfolds a portrait of contemporary America that is as uneasy as it is revealing.
You might know Bliss from the largest pillow fight in the US or the largest zombie walk. Safe to say, heโs known for organizing events, standing out, and bringing people together. Here, however, he shows how truly dividedvided people are in his country. By walking roughly 60 miles (no small task), his journey begins in the long shadow of George Floydโs killing (in 2020), and the film is acutely aware of the moment it occupies. This is Trumpโs America, not as an abstraction or a headline, but as roadside diners, rural highways, motel rooms, and chance encounters. Bliss walks toward Washington, D.C., but the destination matters less than the reactions he provokes along the way. The T-shirt functions as a kind of social accelerant, transforming ordinary exchanges into volatile confrontations or, occasionally, surprising moments of solidarity.
Bliss is not positioned as an all-knowing guide or a heroic ally. Instead, he is frequently uncertain, sometimes overwhelmed, and often challenged in ways that complicate his intentions. Awkward silences, raised voices, and unresolved conversations give the film its most compelling texture, capturing the emotional rawness of a country still arguing with itself about race, power, and belonging.
It takes 14 days for someone to start walking with him, no matter how much he asks. Very early on, Bliss meets armed Trump supporters who greet him with suspicion and fury, but also working-class white Americans whose anger is braided with fear, economic precarity, and a sense of historical loss. Whether it was the intention or not, this documentary reveals the total ignorance and stupidity of some Americans, and youโll flit between laughter and a sad realization that these can be the popular opinion in one of the world’s largest countries. Some sections of hostility are worrying and intense. Luckily, it is balanced, and there are heartwarming and encouraging comments from passersby. Towards the end there is a grounded and surprisingly sweet interaction with a Trump supporter.
What the film does well is not excuse hostility, but it does try to understand its sources. Even when arguments feel forced, uneducated and irrational, there is still a level of respect from Bliss. In doing so, it asks an uncomfortable question: why does advocacy for Black lives so often register as a personal threat in communities that feel forgotten?
What is sweet and scary is that his mumโs voicemails are used as a voice-over, showing her concerns. Sweet that she cares so much, scary that she feels she has to watch his movements, as sheโs so worried something bad is going to happen to him. Her meeting her son at the end to walk the last five miles with him is a tender moment, bringing the attention back to Bliss and this mountainous task heโs given himself.
Still, White Man Walking is not without its blind spots. The central conceit, placing a white body at the center of a story about racial justice, will understandably give some viewers pause. While the film acknowledges this tension, it does not always interrogate it as deeply as it should. Black voices appear primarily through absence, implication, or reaction, rather than as sustained perspectives in their own right. This choice feels intentional, but it also limits the filmโs scope, keeping it tethered to Blissโs experience even when a broader context would enrich the discussion.
There are moments of unexpected humor, quiet generosity, and human warmth that cut against the prevailing sense of division. Strangers walk alongside Bliss for a stretch of road. Conversations soften. Certainties wobble. These scenes never pretend to offer easy reconciliation, but they gesture toward the fragile possibility of dialogue.
White Man Walking succeeds as an interesting and thought-provoking piece of political film as it reflects a nation exhausted by slogans yet still capable of being startled by simple acts of moral visibility. White Man Walking does not claim to heal Americaโs fractures. What it offers instead is something quieter and perhaps more honest: a record of what happens when conviction meets reality, one step at a time. When you realize this was filmed six years ago, you might recoil that things donโt appear to have changed or progressed. But Blissโ message is still powerful and reaffirms that life isnโt easy, the road is long but we have to stand up for what we believe in.
A filmography full of contradictions, juxtapositions, and personal examinations might be one way to explore the work of Michael Mann. An auteur with absolute command over the stylistic nature of how his films look would be enough praise for most directors, but Mannโs knack for cinema goes far beyond cinematography and mise-en-scene. One need only listen to any actor talk about their experience on a Mann film to discover that the character biography of each (and every) character is all thought out before the shooting starts.
What you, the audience member (eager and starry-eyed), think about the work of Michael Mann may depend on when you were introduced to him. Maybe you were there from the beginning and The Jericho Mile (which wonโt be delved into, but is important to note at the top of his career) and Thief led you to believe that Mann was solely interested in the lives of criminals (both behind bars and actively committing major crimes). Maybe you came in later in the โ80s and discovered the more genre-leaning work of The Keep and Manhunter and thought this would be the guy to bring a more vibrant and propulsive energy to sci-fi and horror. Or perhaps like myself you were brought up in the โ90s and the more commercial Mann films came your way: The Last of the Mohicans and Heat. (Have you heard of this movie? Iโm sure you probably haveโฆ) Quite possibly you waited until Mann hit his โOscar Prestigeโ era with The Insider, Ali, and Collateral before jumping onto the โMann-wagon.โ (And for you Academy Award nerds out there, I am very aware that the only Oscar win that belongs to a Michael Mann movie is Best Sound for The Last of the Mohicans, but the total nomination count of The Insider, Ali, and Collateral is eleven โ including Mannโs only nominations for Director and Picture.) And however unlikely this may seem, you could have waited for the last era of Mann films: the retread and/or commercially unsuccessful era which includes Miami Vice, Public Enemies, Blackhat, and Ferrari.
Upon reflecting on his filmography, numerous themes and choices occur repeatedly. This essay will reflect on many: some of which have been written about ad nauseam and others (I hope) will garner some fresh perspective. As a film fan, I can say without hesitation that Michael Mann has created some of my favorite cinema; full of amazing filmmaking technique, innovative storytelling, and transcendent performances. However, Mann is not perfect despite coming across as a perfectionist and his faults are noticeable to the point of being predictable.
I have created a list of Mann Commandments or โComMANNdments”: choices made either in the screenplay, behind the camera, and/or within that ever-evolving brain of Michael Mann that link all his films together. By focusing on these elements, you can see that Michael Mann (for better or worse) has principles (a code, if you will) worthy of in-depth analysis.
ComMANNdment #1: Thou Shall Live Truthfully and Do as an Actor
Since I was 10-years-old, I have been acting. As you grow with acting, you discover that what acting is changes over the course of time. Early on, the easiest way into the world of performing is pretend, or make believe that everything is fake. โIf itโs fake,โ a young actor may think, โthen Iโll know itโs not really ME up there, but the character.โ Now that is all well and good when you are in elementary school, but as you age and mature you want to lean into the truth and reality of the character and situation. The great acting teacher Sandford Meisner phrased it well: โActing is the ability to behave absolutely truthfully under the imaginary circumstances.โ In this way, the actors arenโt โactingโ โ they are โbehaving.โ The story is fictional and the actor knows that the circumstances have been concocted prior to the performance, but their behavior is honest: how would I respond in this moment?
For such a visual filmmaker with flair and style, Michael Mann is deeply motivated by the psychology of the characters. It is not enough to simply have a character state what their past is โ they need to know every important detail. What Michael Mann is also aware of is that acting (particularly on film) is doing โ the actors need tasks to accomplish and props to hold. When you combine these methodologies of โacting is living truthfullyโ and acting is doing, what you get are compelling performances epitomized in Mannโs films.
The opening of Thief is the perfect example of acting is doing. It would be one choice to just have Frank (played in a career-best performance by James Caan) perform the task of cracking into a safe via a montage of quick cuts and heavy edits to expedite the process and move the film along in a hurry. What Mann does instead is to have us cut in media res to Frank in the middle of the safe cracking, expertly keeping focus, and actually (and accurately, according to Caan) handling the tools. Itโs one thing to see Frank using the drill, but it is something else entirely to see Caan focus on how much torque to use at any given moment. The precision here is what stands out.
What we miss in the opening scene of Thief is made up entirely when we see the job in Los Angeles. This time around we see all the details come together: Frank and Barry (Jim Belushi) use real saws and crowbars to access their way through the roof and attach voltage meters to wires to determine which are phone lines and which are linked with alarms. And as much โdoingโ is done here, itโs the use of the burn rod on the custom-built safe that shows a precision in the dismantling of the box and how the team operates with each other (to be mentioned later in a different ComMANNdment).
NowโฆI really hate for so early on in this writing to say that not all the movies follow all of these ComMANNdments, but sometimes as a filmmaker you try a turn in a new genre, the studio interferes with your movie, and what you end up with is The Keep. My feelings for this movie will come up throughout the different ComMANNdments, but I will say that one aspect of the movie that lacks is the feeling of acting as doing. Chalk it up to the mythological narrative and on-set feel to many of the scenes, but The Keep does not adhere to the dogma of honest acting generally portrayed in Mannโs films. Even with talented, reliable actors like Scott Glenn and Ian McKellan, there is an over-performative nature that feels disingenuous compared to other Mann films.
In most cases, the โacting as doingโ thought involves a physical, visual act performed in a way that makes it quite known just how real the performance we are seeing is. However, in-depth and cerebral performances of really doing need to be showcased and illuminated as well โ here is where William Petersenโs performance of Will Graham in Manhunter comes into view. Petersen handles props and navigates his set well โ this section is not to say that he does nothing physical in the performance, but rather it needs to be shared just how well his thought process as Graham works in the film. Multiple scenes allow Petersen the time to walk into a space (whether in the houses of victims or an anonymous motel room) and think and assesswhat has happened in the past, what is happening now, and how it can all impact the future. For my money, Petersenโs portrayal of connecting the dots works most effectively when he pieces together the home video service that links these slain families. Actors have to be curious and investigative by nature and Petersen brings these traits into the world of a character who also needs to constantly evaluate his surroundings โ the blending of which leads to a wonderfully emotional and understated performance.
At some point after we merge into the 1990s, a transformation takes place within the world of Michael Mann films. Chalk it up to age and experience or being restrained previously in the world of television, but Mannโs detail and precision is ratcheted up post L.A. Takedown and is on full display with The Last of the Mohicans. The amount of actors โreally doingโ or โreally livingโ in this film is what sets it apart from other studio period-piece films of the era. In the opening alone, we see Nathaniel, Uncas, and Chingachgook running through the woods tracking down a deer โ the active chase brought to levels of realism when you see the trees, hear the water, and behold the hills these actors have to navigate. Acting is doing, yes, but this film is so active โ very little time is given to contemplation. After our three Mohicans rescues Cora, Alice, and Duncan, the dialogue continues as they soldier on near a stream and waterfall. Other directors would stop and have the dialogue take focus, but Mann has the actors continue to walk and carry on the conversation which reminds us that they could be found at any moment. This treatment of actors really doing continues through all of Mannโs films.
It is extremely rare that a movie handles a situation so well and realistically that groups in the real-world show scenes from it to show the proper way of handling said situation. Heat is littered with moments that reinforce the โacting is doingโ mentality and both the cops and criminals get to shine here. Vincent Hanna and his team adequately assess the first crime scene after the armored car robbery and we get a mini-Thief moment with Val Kilmer trying to break into the platinum vault. However, I would be kidding myself if I did not list the most obvious acting as doing moment in this film: the bank robbery into the downtown Los Angeles shootout. The fact that military and police trainers show how De Niro and Kilmer reload and cover each other is nothing short of amazing. Heat is a contained epic and there are many instances of really doing that occur throughout the film, but it needs to be made clear that the botched heist and escape is one of the most realistic scenes ever committed to celluloid.
When you consider all the work Michael Mann had created up to and including Heat, one would think that โrestraintโ might not be a word found in his personal lexicon. However, the source material for The Insider grounds us in a world that is both highly relatable (a husband/father navigating both his familial responsibilities and ethical values) and behind closed doors (the inner workings of CBS and โ60 Minutesโ). Given the true-to-life nature of this story, actors performing tasks may seem mundane compared to epic downtown shootouts, police raids on the homes of serial killers, and melting down safe doors. Within The Insider characters are epic in their line deliveries, stares, and reactions. A perfect example of actors doing and living truthfully (especially given when the film was set) is the initial interaction between Lowell Bergman (Al Pacino) and Jeffrey Wigand (Russell Crowe). After two phone call attempts, Bergman proceeds to send Wigand a fax. Itโs an ingenious scene because it subverts our expectations of hearing two people have a conversation โ the gist of what needs to be said is expressed when Wigand replies โI CANโT TALK TO YOU.โ Bergman responds with โCanโt Talk to Me? Wonโt Talk to Me? Donโt Want to Talk to Me?โ โ and Wigand concludes this back and forth with โCanโt. Wonโt. Donโt Want To.โ A fantastic back and forth that gets us to lean in and build anticipation based on the nature of how long it takes faxes to send.
Michael Mann is very adept at getting actors comfortable performing the actions their characters portray. Whether it is the wilderness and survival tactics portrayed by Daniel Day-Lewis in The Last of the Mohicans or the famous L.A. shootout in Heat, actors come across as highly believable and honest in their physical actions. You could make the argument that no other actor or performance fully exemplifies this idea in a Michael Mann film stronger than Will Smith in Ali. The voice and mannerisms that Smith utilizes to depict as Muhammad Ali are quite amazing (garnering that Academy Award nomination), but it is the training and boxing scenes that fully suck us in. The verisimilitude of Smithโs performance is the glue that keeps this film together. If his performance does not expertly combine the personality of Ali with his physical prowess, this film fails.
Tom Cruise is another actor known for his physicality (how many jokes have you heard or memes have you seen that involve him running?). All jokes aside, it is his endless grit and tenacity that makes him so compelling to watch. When we see him hang onto the outside of a moving plane or leap from building to building, we know the physical exertion it takes to make that stunt possible. What makes his performance as Vincent in Collateral so unique and mesmerizing is that he is doing this same level of physicality but as an absolute villain. And while the stunts in this film are not as audacious as those in the Mission: Impossible franchise, the exactitude and ruthlessness with which Vincent carries out these evil deeds are utterly compelling to watch: not just from the observation of Cruiseโs performance, but what that precision says about the character. The raw tenacity of the shootout in the โFeverโ nightclub is the most overt example of this โ particularly the moment when he performs a somersault move to land on the floor and immediately start shooting the armed guards. However, I want to focus on a different scene: the moments after Max, who has been zip-tied to the steering wheel of his cab, is robbed at gunpoint by two men passing by. These random street thugs believe they have made out with a wallet and briefcaseโฆthis is before Vincent returns to the area. Feigning trepidation, Vincent immediately subdues both men with 2-3 gunshots per person. It is not just that he killed these guys, but how he did it โ the ease and precision. It is this gunplay and physical prowess that an actor like Tom Cruise can bring to a role like Vincent and make it feel both incredible and truthful.
Okayโฆsoโฆhmmmโฆwhat is actuallyโฆdoneโฆin Miami Vice? My trepidation here is earned, I believe, because it is hard to really land on the living truthfully portion of this film. As far as actors โdoingโ what their characters do, I can point to Colin Farrell: he (seemingly) drives a โgo-fastโ boat and dances with Gong Li. Before Trudy gets abducted, our team led by Sonny & Rico do a good job of showing us how the drugs are getting offloaded from the ship. But who are we kidding? This is a Michael Mann film (you know, the guy who did Heat?) โ the best moments of acting as doing come from both the trailer park raid and the shootout by the boatyard. Whether it is Jamie Foxx taking out 2 people in the trailer with his hands and a knife, Barry Shabaka Henley using his night-vision camera to spot snipers, or the epic boatyard shootout; Mann shows us a scene of violent carnage masterfully choreographed. Related to this, Naomie Harris gets a very earned acting moment after she has been freed from her chair restraints: in a violent outburst she tries to kick her captor who lies dead on the floor. Her moment of rage and elation feels genuine here and is the singular standout acting performance in the film.
The โacting as doingโ ComMANNdment gets harder and harder to place the further into Mannโs filmography we get. In Public Enemies, the mise-en-scene is so accurate to the period and the characters being real, historical, & larger than life make the art of reality a bit hard to pin down. John Dillingerโs life is so well documented that trying to โreally doโ is less substantial to the film than presenting the sights and sounds of the 1930s. With that in mind, some much deserved praise needs to be given to the actors who took part in the โLittle Bohemiaโ raid in the film. There are multiple close-up shots of actors where you can see their breath frozen in the air. Shooting on location in Wisconsin, filming deep in the woods, and having to shoot at night makes for treacherous and exhausting hours for the actors. It should also be stated that we are not talking about actors on the rise trying to make a name for themselves: this is Johnny Depp and Christian Bale โ quite possibly the biggest male actors working in Hollywood around 2009. Watching their dedication and craft in this particular scene shows that actors who want situations to feel as real as possible can create powerful moments on screen.
This thought will permeate throughout more sections of this collected writing, but let me start off my thoughts on Blackhat by saying this: watching people type on keyboards or look intently at a computer screen is not interesting. No one has yet succeeded in making this mundane task look exciting. Actors have tried staring harder at screens and directors have had fun putting cameras in unique locations, but it is a rather boring activity. Having expressed that, it will surprise no one that watching the โhackingโ of Chris Hemsworth (more movie star than actor), a man who looks like he regularly snaps laptops in half to work on forearm strength, is not engaging. So as far as the โacting as really doingโ idea goes, Blackhat is functionally persuasive in two areas: using non-actors and having Chris Hemsworth run and hit people. Let me focus on the Aussie for a moment โ because even though I am being hypercritical about him as a computer whiz, his physical stature and athletic capabilities make portions of this film really engaging. Running through alleyways, using screwdrivers as lethal weapons, breaking necks with tables โ Hemsworth shines here and impressively pulls this off. For me, the moment that really made me think that this was all real was when we cut to the trade floor after soy futures have been altered โ the chaos and frenetic energy of those traders really pulled me in. Authenticity is a huge part in convincingly portraying โacting as really doingโ โ and when Blackhat felt authentic is when I believed the circumstances of the narrative.
Bit of a story before launching into this section โ bear with me. I once directed a play that was near and dear to me. When the run of the show was over, a trusted colleague of mine asked about one of the actors in the show and why I cast them because they thought (and I agreed) that they were the โweak linkโ of the play. And my honest response was essentially this: they brought something to the audition that blew me away, but it never grew or changed โ it was the same throughout the entire rehearsal process and performance. The tricky thing with casting someone off an audition alone is what will they bring beyond just those few minutes. I mention this experience because I truly wonder what Mann saw in Shailene Woodley that led him to believe that she should be one of three main characters in Ferrari.
As far as this ComMANNdment goes, I was going to do a whole thing about accents because that IS acting as doing. Dialect work is no small feat and can be the reason why certain performances (and films) can be publicly derided. Penelope Cruz being from Spain handles the Italian beautifully in this film; Adam Driver coming fresh off the Ridley Scott biopic House of Gucci gets a second crack with dialect and I would say manages it fairly well; and then there is Shailene Woodley. The purpose of this section is not to overly-ridicule Woodleyโs performance, but this is the second consecutive film where an actor is asked to do an accent and doesnโt fully commit to it (Iโm referring to Chris Hemsworthโs attempt at Chicagoan/American in Blackhat). This is important to me as an actor because our goal is to convey the truth of the character and situation at every moment โ not committing to the dialect of a character is a way to disconnect with the audience. From my perspective, itโs no wonder why the scenes with Cruz & Driver are riveting โ itโs because they are both committed to their parts.
On this episode, JD and Brendan discuss Sam Raimi’s new film Send Help, starring a phenomenal Rachel McAdams! Raimi’s horror sensibilities are back in a big way with this tense, darkly funny survival thriller that also has a surprisingly poignant message given the times. In short, Send Help has all the Raimi-isms we love from it as an exercise in horror, but it’s not without a bit of meat on the bone.
Review:Send Help
Director: Sam Raimi Writers: Damian Shannon, Mark Swift Stars: Rachel McAdams, Dylan O’Brien
Director: Andrius Blaลพeviฤius Writer: Andrius Blaลพeviฤius Stars: ลฝygimantฤ Elena Jakลกtaitฤ, Marius Repลกys, Amelija Adomaitytฤ
Synopsis: Set in Vilnius in 2022, high-flying executive Marija chooses the worst moment to discuss divorce with husband Vytas – one day before Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine. The couple navigates separation amid a refugee crisis.
Broaching the subject of a divorce seems as if it would be an impossible task even on the best of days. And yet, it must sometimes be a necessity faced head-on, akin to ripping off a band-aid. Itโs those exact nerves which Marija (ลฝygimantฤ Elena Jakลกtaitฤ) is facing in the day leading up to her conversation with Vytas (Marius Repลกys), her husband of 12 years. Itโs this central conflict around which Andrius Blaลพeviฤiusโ How to Divorce During the War centers itself. But as the title of this film indicates, there are far more pressing matters occurring alongside the emotional turmoil weโre introduced to prior to the title card reveal. The moment of truth for Marija and Vytas takes place via an unbroken shot in the confines of their family car while waiting for young daughter, Dovile, to finish up her music class. Itโs a life-shattering revelation for Vytas, and Blaลพeviฤius captures this quiet, shocking implosion with an immense amount of patience. Itโs a stylistic choice he will return to throughout much of the film. Aside from showcasing technical proficiency and trust in both the script and performances, the choice to capture this moment and the aftermath that follows in such a way is indicative of the primary themes this film aims to explore.
Marius Repลกys, Amelija Adomaitytฤ and ลฝygimantฤ Elena Jakลกtaitฤ appear in How to Divorce During the War by Andrius Blaลพeviฤius, an official selection of the 2026 Sundance Film Festival. Courtesy of Sundance Institute.
Vytas is the character Blaลพeviฤius first introduces his audience to. Heโs unboxing a brand new office chair, the likes of which seems to pair wonderfully with the rest of his sleek, contemporary home office. In times of annoyance, frustrations, and unease, we often seek to provide ourselves with maximum comfort however possible. Itโs a reaction which is both completely fair and understandable. And yet, as Vytas sits down, the discomfort in his body language is palpable. With a quick decision, he unceremoniously gets up, pushes the new chair out of the way, and rolls in his older, more worn-down chair from a corner of the room. In this singular motion, the central conceit of How to Divorce During the War reveals itself. Itโs quite easy to forget how much comfort a baked-in sense of familiarity can provide us. But that same familiarity can also stir up thoughts of wanting to break free. In developing a comfortable routine, there lies a yearning for what’s potentially being missed on the outskirts of such familiar regimens. And as is the case with so many of lifeโs largest decisions, chasing that potential is obviously a gamble.
In the case of How to Divorce During the War, the fallout of such a decision occurs in Lithuania amidst Russiaโs invasion of Ukraine in early 2022. Itโs clearly not one that comes lightly for Marija. And this film isnโt particularly concerned with the intricate questions or events surrounding her decision to separate from Vytas. Itโs simply interested in reckoning with how anybody could possibly continue to live life normally despite actively existing within the silence, or chaos, of such physical, mental and emotional turmoil. Whether itโs referencing ongoing doomscrolling in the workplace, being hung up with the weight of such a long relationship, or wondering whatโs to come next for the family dynamic, characters are constantly bringing up the notion of needing to โmove on.โ Is that feasible in even the best of circumstances? Blaลพeviฤius’ response to such an examination is shockingly dour. But itโs in the darker corners of this film where both its comedy and drama elements separate themselves from the most typical examples of divorce cinema. The film seems to actively push away from relying on dark comedy more frequently, but its dramatic beats exist amidst a series of deeply uncomfortable yet painfully relatable truths that will likely resonate with many audience members.
Many of the emotional beats of How to Divorce During the War revolve around its characters’ abilities to confront the issues theyโre regularly brushing up against. The inciting incident of the film is Marija expressing her desire for divorce, and the dramatic crux of the first act lies in her and Vytasโ reactions to such change. But there is little time to actively process such a shift upon their learning of the war breaking out so shockingly nearby. While Blaลพeviฤius never belittles the emotional weight both parties are feeling in this new chapter, their turmoil is undeniably recontextualized. And as selfishly as they might like to behave, they innately understand the example which must be set for their daughter and the people both directly and indirectly around them. In grappling with emotional strife both personally and geopolitically, these characters must face a series of challenges they could have never seen coming. Marija faces it both professionally and socially through decisions she makes with a moral backbone and an ethical heart. Vytas, having just moved back in with his parents, continuously clashes with them upon learning they actively consume Russian propaganda. There’s bravery required in facing such challenging scenarios, and Blaลพeviฤius never plays down or casts judgment on his characters while writing them. But itโs in the messiness wrought upon their lives by Blaลพeviฤiusโ script that makes this film compelling.
Thereโs also a wonderful juxtaposition at play between the messiness of these characters and the restraint with which Blaลพeviฤius captures them. Itโs mainly shot in extended takes, ranging from quiet to shocking outbursts of all sorts. How to Divorce During the War indicates immense patience behind the camera. The inquisitiveness behind its shot composition makes for a directing style that isnโt just highly effective; itโs a style that is challenging to pull off successfully. Itโs amidst the discomforting turmoil of Blaลพeviฤiusโ fictional scenario and the ongoing reality of nearby war that the finale of this film ends on quite the potent note. We might often want things to change in our lives. But thereโs no denying what can be an innate desire for familiarity. This isnโt something we cling onto solely out of comfort; it can equally be due to necessity. To grapple with a relationship, or the world around us, actively crumbling can sometimes be too much to bear. Can we be faulted for seeking escapism whenever possible? We can make an attempt and do what we can whenever possible, but sometimes, it feels as if thereโs no other choice but to pretend everything is as it was. How to Divorce During the War reckons with whether that lifestyle is even possible despite the constant reminders. The emotionally ambiguous coda of this film reaffirms how strong its ideas are overall, and makes for a timely film that is as engaging to watch as it is thought-provoking to ponder.
How to Divorce During the War celebrated its World Premiere in the World Cinema Dramatic Competition at the 2026 Sundance Film Festival.
If thereโs anyone who can match Marty Mauserโs madness and self-focus in Marty Supreme, itโs Martyโs married girlfriend, Rachel Mizler, played by Odessa Aโzion. The two have known each other for years and although Marty believes almost only in himself and his goals to be the greatest tennis table player in the world, there is a small space in his narcissistic heart for Rachel. That space is something Rachel will do anything to make bigger as she hustles her way into his life.
Nadine Whitney spoke to Odessa about Rachel and her gung-ho attitude as she goes into battle for Marty and herself.
Nadine Whitney: Odessa, your character Rachel goes all in on Marty, but also, she goes all in on herself, and she stretches her own expectations for the life that she will lead. Can you speak to that?
Odessa Aโzion: Yeah. I mean, well, if you look at the movie and the time period that it takes place in [1952] and women, like we all know that back then it was a lot harder for them.
So, I think it was scary for her doing that, but sheโs just like she doesnโt give a fuck. You know? Like she doesnโt care about anybody thatโs gonna stand in her way. Whether it be Dion (Luke Manly) or her husband Ira (Emory Cohen), or even Marty. Like even though her goal is this family with Marty and having him in her life and not being trapped to the person that she already gave her life away to.
She wants that and she wants that freedom. And Marty is kind of that freedom for her in her eyes, you know? Sheโs stuck and he is the way out.
I mean, Rachel is such a survivor. And she has a goal just like Marty. Sheโs after something, and she will stop at nothing to get to it. She is super driven and she kind of succeeded, too.
I relate to Rachel because I think everyone kind of has a goal in their minds for themselves and are dreaming big. Maybe Iโm not as loud about it as Marty is. Definitely not as loud about it as Marty is, but I have that feeling in me. If I know this is what I want to do, how do I get there? What do I do to make it happen? How can I push myself or convince the people around me so that I could go on this path that I really care about and want to be on?
Director:Corin Hardy Writer: Owen Egerton Stars: Dafne Keen, Sophie Nรฉlisse, Sky Yang
Synopsis:A group of high schoolers stumble across an ancient Aztec death whistle. Once blown, the whistle summons their future deaths to hunt them down one by one. They must uncover the history of this cursed object and somehow halt what theyโve set in motion before itโs too late.
Whistle almost instantly reminded me of a different era of horror. Hereโs the thing though: it was the late โ90s to early 2000s, which Iโve found to be one a hit or miss period for the genre. What director Corin Hardy and writer Owen Egerton have crafted can be likened to Final Destination (2000) in more ways than one. Thereโs cheesy dialogue, plenty of tropes, and gnarly kills. It does just enough to separate itself from that iconic franchise which includes having a more diverse group of leads, but the similarities are undoubtedly there.
Even if no one is going to mistake this for an Academy Award winning affair, you can make a horror film thatโs unnerving and fun by putting the right pieces together. Whistle builds around Dafne Keen and Sophie Nรฉlisse, who deliver outstanding turns. Keen plays Chrysanthemum โChrysโ Willet, our tortured protagonist who has been sent to live with her cousin, Rel (Sky Yang). Aspiring doctor Ellie Gains (Nรฉlisse) is the one person in this new school who seems willing to accept Chrys for who she is.
Given the story is centered around these two, it should come as no surprise that theyโre the most developed characters who ultimately help turn this experience into something satisfying. Dafne Keen and Sophie Nรฉlisse have excellent chemistry which helps make Chrys and Ellieโs relationship not only believable but worth pulling for. These characters and their actresses bring out the best in each other. Even though there are cheesy exchanges between them, thereโs something relatable about Chrys and Ellie if youโve ever had a high school crush. Keen and Nรฉlisse carry Whistle on their backs with these performances that capture your attention because of how natural they feel compared to the heightened nature of everything else.
Our other leads might as well be named after their archetypes. Rel is the nerd pining after the popular girl Grace Browning (Ali Skovbye) who has a jock boyfriend named Dean (Jhaleil Swaby). Whistle stumbles when it comes to giving these three depth and theyโre so one-note that it becomes hilarious. Egerton leans on tropes rather than fleshing them out which leaves the audience indifferent to their survival even if these actors arenโt terrible.
The most notable of our many one-note characters is schoolteacher Mr. Craven (Nick Frost) and itโs not because his name appears to be a homage to the late, great director Wes Craven. Frost, much like Keen and Nรฉlisse, gets good enough material and runs with it. Heโs funny and an absolute jerk, which is in line with what weโve seen from authority figures sprinkled into horror films. Frost does his job and nothing more in a solid supporting turn.
Fans of over-the-topgoofy horror wonโt be phased in the slightest and should have a blast. Especially when you consider the elements this film brings to the table. Thereโs an enthralling mystery behind this death whistle and Keen and Nรฉlisse are giving their all. Most importantly, youโll constantly be on edge, never knowing when the next kill will come. Those who prefer much more elevated material might not enjoy whatโs being offered here because thereโs little depth and itโs very silly. Considering a character is named Chrysanthemum, it should be clear that this wonโt be on the level of a Jordan Peele film when it comes to writing.
However, some of these kills might stick in your mind like what weโve seen from Peele for better or worse. Theyโre insane and as previously mentioned bring palpable tension to the film throughout. Youโll walk away impressed with how Corin Hardy stages them and how he and his crew use several elements to strike fear into you. One of the cooler things here is when we can see the chill bumps on a characterโs back which is simple, but effective. Itโs very easy to appreciate when the people involved seem like they genuinely want to scare you and put forth the effort to do that in ways that go beyond blood.
Youโll grip your seat over and over during Whistle whether thatโs because of the actual kills or due to your anticipation of them as well as potential jump scares. This might sound crazy, but I appreciated how each death was more vicious than the last. It seemed like the sounds got more guttural and blood soaked as things moved along. Thereโs a death that has so much blood that while I didnโt throw up, I did feel like I needed a shower after. That sort of thing is rare and Hardy and company deserve kudos for making it happen.
Even though Iโve been giving these kills praise, they arenโt perfect. Some of the special effects will make you laugh with their ragdoll physics. When things go according to plan, youโll see some really creative stuff but just know that isnโt always the case. When you mix performers like Dafne Keen, Sophie Nรฉlisse, and Nick Frost with inventive kills and a tantalizing mystery, this throwback to 00โs horror works. Weaknesses like an overreliance on tropes are still there, mind you, but will be easier to look past. Itโs not going to alter the horror genre as we know it, but Whistle will send chills down your spine and turn out to be an amusing time.
Director:Rachael J. Morrison Stars: Josef Carl Engressia
Synopsis: Blind Joybubbles finds he can control phones by whistling specific tones. His discovery, born from loneliness, becomes foundational to hacking culture and tech history.
Before the days of computers, the phone system presented near-constant frustrations. Not only was it the fastest way to communicate, but it could go down for reasons that most of us never understood. With the price rising, a young blind child who would go by the name of Joybubbles started to reinvent what was possible on the lines. Rachel J. Morrison profiles the man who would open the door for phone phreaks and hackers around the world. The documentary, Joybubbles, is both an incredibly sweet view of the man and an uplifting story about community.
Born Josef Carl Engressia, the man who would become known as โJoybubblesโ started playing with the phone. Born blind, he started trying to imitate the tones within the phone systems as a five-year-old. Over the next twenty years, he perfected his craft and eventually found his way into government systems and connections. He helped shepherd for the โphone phreakโ community and even created a positive self-talk line in the vein of Mr. Rogerโs Neighborhood.
Crafting a documentary about an enigmatic figure is a standard practice in the genre. Still, Joybubbles finds more heart and empathy for its primary character than most would expect. There is so much archival footage of Josef that it allows Morrison to really show his evolution as a figure. Along the way, she incorporates talking heads from friends, family, and legends of the tech world to show his importance.
Any time figures like Steve Wozniak and Steve Jobs were influenced by your hobbies, you know that youโve stumbled into someone special. Joybubbles knew that he was exposing flaws in the telephonic systems, and hoped that it would even open doors for him as a professional. Unfortunately, Josef did not always play well with others in the workforce, primarily because of the ways they ignored his contributions.
Morrison drills into this pain and reminds us that non-sighted workers rarely get the same opportunities that their sighted co-workers can reach. Whether or not Joybubbles was a perfect employee, he showed incredible skill and talent. Why that was not cultivated by his companies shows a sad trend of ignoring people with an inclination towards progress, simply because they do not fit the mold weโd expect.
Yet what also sets Joybubbles apart was his perseverance. He found new ways to spread his positive messages, creating new phone lines to contact other phone phreaks and have them observe what he was doing. The creation of the โZzzzyzzerrific Funlineโ allowed him to maintain a childlike wonder as well. While some of this immaturity might have put him on the wrong foot with some people, it also allowed him to overcome bad moments of his life.
Pieced together from a vast array of archival footage and home recordings, Morrison is able to showcase Joybubbleโs influence on a community and culture as a whole. He might not be a household name today, but his pranks and feats often found their way into the newspaper. He was a one-of-one, and his influence remains in the minds of those who changed the world. At the same time, his incredible pain and hurt are on display, showing us that the โJoybubblesโ persona was as much a defense mechanism as a way for him to establish himself as a figure.
Joybubbles is a cute documentary and covers a unique era of communication that will feel foreign to anyone under 30. Itโs also an uplifting experience, one that should help reconnect those with the enigmatic man. Joybubbles was a unique guy, and he was pulled away from us far too soon. Still, his legacy of being kind to each other and trying to lift up the world is a worthy one to continue. In 2026, we need more Joybubbles to help us rediscover a world thatโs not so dark, but instead a community to help each other.
Synopsis: In the border city of Juรกrez, Mexico, where violence against women is perpetrated with impunity, an unlikely defender emerges with a desperate call for change. Inspired by true events.
Women’s suffering has been ignored, pushed aside, or hushed into silence for as far back as history goes. And one of the most unfortunate truths that comes with being a woman is knowing that the other women who surround you more than likely have an experience with sexual assault. It’s a hard pill to swallow, especially when justice evades victims through conventional methods. Inspired by true events, The Huntress (La Cazadora) answers the call to even the score between predator and prey.
Adriana Paz appears in The Huntress (La Cazadora) by Suzanne Andrews Correa, an official selection of the 2026 Sundance Film Festival. Courtesy of Sundance Institute | photo by Maria Sarasvati Herrera.
Director and writer Suzanne Andrews Correa takes audiences back to August 2013 in Juarez, Mexico, showing a peek into the life of being a woman in a city that lets violence against its female population run rampant. As the film opens with a crowded bus filled with a mixture of men and women of all ages, there’s a creeping uncomfortability that seeps in. Their driver is ogling a young woman who ignores his advances, and as he pulls up to her stop, his final words before gunshots ring out are those insulting her for not giving him her number. As he lays lifeless in a seat where he once felt power, life in the city will never be the same.
It’s a startling opening, but it’s entirely effective; Correa isn’t concerned with holding our hands while we navigate the harsh realities of the women living here. It sets out immediately to establish how tired women are of having their lives, and their loved ones’ lives, treated as disposable. Luz (Adriana Paz) is one of those women, working in a warehouse with strict rules. Three years ago, she was a victim herself, raped on a bus. And even a few years removed, she canโt escape it, either by reminders of a lack of intimacy from her boyfriend Jaime (Eme Malafe), or by the constant worry that her young teenage daughter Ale (Jennifer Trejo) will become yet another girl with her innocence taken.
Navigating through Luzโs life is enraging; itโs a direct reflection of stories weโve all heard. Sheโs a mother trying her best to keep her daughter from going through what she had to, but the systems in place make it almost impossible. With corrupt police partaking in the same activities they are being asked to stop, to abusive workplaces that refuse to let women off work to heal from their trauma. Paz’s performance is captivating and suffocating all at once. Her character’s actions are hard to disagree with, especially when Paz’s work evokes the panic felt during flashbacks to her assault. So when Luz takes inspiration from the Goddess of the Hunt, Diana the Huntress, a bow-and-arrow-wielding hunter, it isn’t just about snuffing out predators; itโs a warning to those who protect them.
Yet Luz isn’t the only woman whom the film highlights who is trying to find her own way to advocate. Correa places mothers in the deserts of Juarez day in and day out, looking for a sign of where their missing loved ones have gone. Ximena (Teresa Sรกnchez) is one of the women, armed with a pickup truck with the bed filled with tools covered in dirt. Sรกnchez plays a rough-around-the-edges woman; her house, minus her daughter’s room, is a mess, but her ability to make it feel warm and welcoming is a bright spot in a dark film. She shows Luz a future filled with the danger her daughter is in, even partly due to Luz’s own actions, by opening up about the work she doesโcreating a community of other mothers who refuse to accept that the local police won’t do anything, organizing protests and search parties. The Huntress doesn’t ask audiences to accept either as the correct way to change things, but reminds audiences that women create change when they advocate for one another.
Correa doesn’t shy away from the mental and physical tolls of abuse, from young women showing up to work late, covered in bruises, to Luz breaking down as her daughter touches her. The depictions of violence are hard to stomach, and for some viewers, it might be too much. But it’s used to remind us why these women are so passionate about ending that same kind of harm for future generations. Where The Huntress falters is its pacing, starting out with a bang of tension that fizzles out during its second act, only to pick back up just as the film enters its final moments. And not enough time is spent exploring Luz’s and Jaime’s relationship, leaving it in a confusing spot when the film ends.
The strength within the performances, and Correa’s examination of how powerful women’s collective voices can be, are highlighted by picturesque visuals of Mexico throughout the film. Either through the clothing of the elegant dresses Ale sneaks off to try on, the mountains cutting through the horizon, or the colorful paint adorning the walls of their homes. Cinematographer Maria Sarasvati Herrera only intensifies the unease of The Huntress with her unique style. When Luz is experiencing her anxiety attacks, the camera locks onto her face, forcing the audience to look her in the face while she’s panicking. Or when Ximena stands against a police detective, the camera zooms out to show a crowd of like-minded moms.
While the film’s runtime begins to be felt midway through, The Huntress still has enough strength in its performances, visuals, and themes to be more than worth a watch. Correa’s writing and directing are another promising female voice within filmmaking that has an important story to highlight. She uses women’s pain without exploiting it for shock value, giving them the ability to tell their trauma their way.
Director: Beth de Araรบjo Writer: Beth de Araรบjo Stars: Mason Reeves, Channing Tatum, Gemma Chan
Synopsis: After 8-year-old Josephine accidentally witnesses a crime in Golden Gate Park, she acts out in search of a way to regain control of her safety, while adults are helpless to console her.
Witnessing a crime at any age alters a person, but the world just expects them to continue. But what happens when it’s a child who doesn’t have the vocabulary to even describe the crime they see? Beth de Araujo’s newest film, Josephine, is a shocking masterpiece that navigates the trauma an 8-year-old suffers after being a witness to a horrific sexual assault. A harrowing watch that teaches hard truths to swallow, especially for a young girl, about how bad things happen, no matter how fair they are or not. Based on events de Araujo experienced in her own life, Josephine shows a perspective rarely seen.
Gemma Chan, Mason Reeves and Channing Tatum appear in Josephine by Beth de Araรบjo, an official selection of the 2026 Sundance Film Festival. Courtesy of Sundance Institute | photo by Greta Zozula.
Josephine (Mason Reeves) is just like any young girl. She comes from a happy home with lovingly protective parents, Damien (Channing Tatum), and Claire (Gemma Chan). As the film opens early on a Sunday morning, Josephine and her dad are running through Golden State Park. When she gets slightly ahead and takes the wrong path at a fork, she finds herself near the park’s public restroom. She hides behind a tree when she sees Sandra (Syra McCarthy), a young woman in running gear, heading into the restroom. Only moments later, Greg (Philip Ettinger) quickly enters the restroom, and a struggle between Sandra and Greg spills out into the grass near Josephine. As Greg overcomes Sandra and knocks her unconscious briefly, he begins to graphically assault her as the 8-year-old sees every single second.
An unfortunate reality that many women learn is that sexual assault can happen to us all at some point, whether it is directly or happens to someone we know. But comprehension of these acts is hard to understand until we are older, and able to decipher what was consensual and what was not. That doesn’t stop these crimes from happening to young girls, and when they don’t have the vocabulary to put a name to an act, their perception of sex is altered. This makes it increasingly hard for them to heal from what they’ve seen, and in Josephine’s case, the word rape doesn’t even exist in her world. That’s until she snags her mother’s phone and searches for that exact word she overhears from her parents’ conversation, misspelling it as R-A-I-P. Her first encounter with adult concepts like sex comes from violence that blurs the line between both. And she begins to see Greg throughout her life as if he were in the same room with her at all times.
Her parents both have two different ways of dealing with their child, who is experiencing personality changes that get worse the further she gets from the day of the crime. Damien is a sports guy, instilling the idea that being scared is something you should overcome. He’d rather tell Josephine that something like that will never happen to her than accept the reality that it could. Claire, on the other hand, wants her daughter to accept that these things will happen, but when the conversation about the topic comes up, she finds it hard to talk about. Josephine is closer to her dad than her mother due to their shared love of sports, but as her physical training ramps up with self-defense classes, her rising anger comes to a boiling point several times.
Reeves is phenomenal in Josephine as the film’s titular character, marking her first film performance as one where the line between acting and a genuine reaction from a child is blurred. It’s a vulnerable and natural depiction of a girl trying her best to understand the lessons her parents taught her about fairness and the reality that not everyone will believe your truths. She can easily switch from being a curious and sweet kid to using her self-defense techniques to scare schoolyard bullies. What Reeves does in the film’s courtroom scene shows not only the bravery of her character, but of herself as well. Her frustrations left a lump in my throat as she exudes a sense of morality at a young age that is rarely seen in adults.
The film isnโt interested in showing you the right answers on how to handle this situation; it is honest in how it shows the impact of making a child hold this pain. Focusing on just how over their heads everyone is in handling Josephine and her outbursts, with her dad becoming more of a hothead over the course of the film, and her mother breaking down at nearly every question she is asked by her child. Thereโs no one there to talk to about what sheโs feeling, or even what sheโs seeing. Its personal script is unshakable, with de Araujo adding her lived experience. She creates a family dynamic that has you understand each perspective with their layered characterizations. These characters can go from enjoying a morning breakfast to getting into a heated argument about whether or not Josephine should be involved with the trial as the only witness. It highlights the lack of communication they have, and it’s refreshing to see a realistic approach to parenting during a crisis.
Jospehine is hard to watch at times, not only because of its subject matter, but also because of the way it is presented. The sexual assault is incredibly graphic, one of the most disturbing recreations of a film. For some, it’s going to be a huge turn-off, and it’s understandable because the film never shies away from the brutality of the crime. It leaves an impact that connects the viewer with Josephine, and makes us understand this from the mind of someone who is seeing something so violent. Often, cinematographer Greta Zozula puts us at the height of an 8-year-old, the height difference that adults have met drop to their level to see face-to-face. Zozula’s lens rotates often to see each character react to situations, like a conversation with the police, capturing Damien, Claire, and Josephine when their testimony is requested.
Ultimately, Josephine is a masterfully made commentary on how children are expected to handle pain when they don’t understand the cause. Packed with career best work from Tatum, Chan, and one knockout of a debut performance from Reeves; thereโs never a wasted moment of screen time. Used from the writer and director’s life experience that shakes us to our core, Josephine is a feat of indie filmmaking that shows the power of female filmmakers’ voices.
