Director: Nicholaus Goossen
Writers: Nicholaus Goossen, Esther Povitsky
Stars: Esther Povitsky, Bobby Lee, Beverly D’Angelo

Synopsis: Esther Povitsky stars as the titular June, a wannabe influencer juggling multiple issues: her parents pressuring her to move out, her ex-boyfriend accusing her of stalking, and two detectives who suspect she’s involved in the robbery of the local pharmacy.

It has been nearly two decades since Nicholaus Goossen directed the critically reviled, yet underground stoner favorite, Grandma’s Boy. The Happy Madison production may not have ignited the world, but it secured his place in Adam Sandler’s sphere of friends – not a bad place to be based on anecdotal stories. The intervening years have been devoted primarily to television, music videos, and stand-up specials, but Drugstore June marks his return to feature comedy directing. Together with Esther Povitsky, whose latest stand-up special he directed, the pair have created a comedy that feels spiritually in line with Happy Madison productions. The instinct to gather all of your funniest friends and put them into a movie is a good one, even if the final product may not showcase their true depth of talent. Drugstore June is far from a perfect comedy, but it teems with a creative energy that makes it a mostly enjoyable watch. 

June (Povitsky) is a product of growing up with the internet. She is chronically online, attempting to build up a following that we can only assume is a pittance at most. She believes that people want to watch her from the moment she wakes up as she talks about her recurring dreams about her ex-boyfriend (a perfectly utilized Haley Joel Osment). She is completely wrapped up in her own experiences to the detriment of herself and those around her. Despite being confident enough to want to broadcast her entire life, she is also deeply insecure. She is constantly seeking validation from others and soliciting ways to improve herself. The latter is most hilariously demonstrated in what we gather is a frequent visit to the doctor (a cameo from Executive Producer Bill Burr) about constipation that turns into a consultation about plastic surgery.

Under different circumstances, June could very well be insufferable. Yet, thanks to the inherent charms of Esther Povitsky, she somehow always keeps the audience rooting for her emotional breakthrough. Povitsky has quietly been stealing the show for the past several years as sweet vessels of nervous energy in shows such as Crazy Ex-Girlfriend and Dollface. The character of June actually feels like an exaggerated version of her Alone Together character or her stand-up persona – themselves a heightened version of Povitsky herself. Beneath the cherubic facade lies the soul of a troll – absolutely meant as a term of endearment. June is the type of person who will go to great lengths to do nothing. She is the type of person who will weep over a freezer full of ice cream being melted over her place of employment being robbed. Somehow, she can even make stalking seem somewhat innocuous. 

The film does have a firm plot in the aforementioned robbery of the pharmacy at which she works, as June is positioned as a suspect and takes it upon herself to investigate who actually committed the crime. This is merely a smokescreen for the character to cross paths with a cadre of amusing personalities. If you are a fan of the L.A. comedy scene or know the differences between the All Things Comedy, Earwolf, and Headgum podcasting networks; this is probably the movie for you. Jackie Sandler is a hilarious standout alongside Al Madrigal as the bewildered police detectives who cannot believe they are questioning a person with such little sense of self-preservation. Beloved comedians such as Nick Rutherford, Ms. Pat, and Jon Gabrus all make brief appearances, but they rarely land as big of a laugh as they do on stage. Surprisingly, it is rapper Bhad Bhabie (of “Cash me outside” fame) who lands some of the biggest laughs of the movie as a weed dispensary employee. 

Among the untested bit performances that litter the film, it is almost comforting to have someone like Bobby Lee (Mad TV) anchoring the story in a more substantial way as June’s very forgiving boss. Lee has a past of outrageous antics in real life, but the gentle approach he brings to this character is refreshing and aids somewhat in June realizing her potential. Beverly D’Angelo (the Vacation franchise) and James Remar (Dexter) lend some gravitas as June’s parents, who, as June says herself, have set a very confusing example for how she approaches life and relationships. The evolution of her relationship with her family, including her brother in an uproarious turn from Brandon Wardell (I Think You Should Leave with Tim Robinson), is the complementary piece of the puzzle alongside her learned experiences that push the movie towards some sort of thematic excavation. For as unserious as the movie is for most of the runtime, it does have a heart. 

Drugstore June is a somewhat frustrating experience. For as passingly enjoyable as the film is, it should be so much better considering the talent at its disposal. There are enough laughs to make it worthy of your time, but not so much that you will be dying to recommend or revisit it anytime soon. If you have no preexisting affection for any of the talent involved, you will likely be in even more dire straits. Nicholaus Goossen and Esther Povitsky have created a story that is comforting in its familiarity yet, like its main character, not ambitious enough to push the genre forward. It is a fine effort from everyone involved, but coasting on charisma will not work in future efforts. 

Grade: B-

Director: Bas Devos
Writer: Bas Devos
Stars: Stefan Gota, Liyo Gong

Synopsis: A Romanian construction worker living in Brussels crosses paths with a Belgian-Chinese doctorate student of moss, just before the former is about to move back home.

Films of 90 minutes or less, like the ones Belgian filmmaker Bas Devos seems to have a penchant for, are often reduced to descriptors like “small”, or “muted”, or “restrained”. And though these sorts of descriptions can feasibly apply to most of his work, including Devos’ latest 82-minute wonder, Here, his minimalistic approach to storytelling isn’t necessarily what defines his filmmaking. Rather, it’s what makes it sing, what makes it stand out as profound and draped with feeling, something rarely found at the movies these days. 

We start Here with Stefan (Stefan Gota), a Romanian man working on construction sites in Brussels; this is where the film takes place, though the things it’s most curious about lie beyond the city’s borders. Stefan is about to head home for summer break — back to the familiar — when he encounters another visitor, of sorts, named Shuxiu (Liyo Gong), a doctoral student of bryology, specifically the moss growing in and around Brussels. As Stefan’s urge to return home intensifies, he empties the contents of his fridge to make soup for those he has met while in Brussels as a sort of farewell; Shuxiu, meanwhile, seems to be embracing her newfound home, letting it become part of her as opposed to a piece of her past.

At first, their stories are unfolding and on parallel paths, though they are heading in different directions: One away from the foreignness; the other, further into it. It’s notable that the film starts inside one of the buildings Stefan has been working on, this physical representation of the birth of something bigger, something unknown, perhaps perpetually unknowable. But as we venture further away from the rumbling city, the real birth occurs. Of course, it’s in nature, where the synthetics of the city wash away and Stefan and Shuxiu, both together and apart, are able to find beauty in simpler, natural forms. A drop of water on a leaf; a chirping bird; wind gusts. All things we could hear inside the walls of that building in which we began, now coming into pure focus.  

Devos and his cinematographer, Grimm Vandekerckhove, keep their gaze placed high above the city in these first few moments so as to place an emphasis on nature’s perpetuity amidst the ever-changing infrastructure of a growing city. Despite Stefan’s occupation, we are compelled to be more interested in the things he has the opportunity to witness outside of these concrete structures on which he works. And when not in the forest among the mosses and water droplets lingering on leaves after a rainstorm, we long for its gentle hum. Which is not to say the film falters when it retreats back into the city to further structure our man’s potential departure, but that it is aware of how different every environment tends to be from its outside counterparts.

Here could easily be linked to (or double/triple-billed with) two of its fellow fall festival standouts, Wim Wenders’ Perfect Days and Aki Kaurismäki’s Fallen Leaves. Each of these three films concern, in part, men going to work, battling internal conflicts in some form or another, and finding some kind of  love and connection, whether romantic or platonic, though it doesn’t matter how or where. What matters, to the filmmakers and to these films, is how much beauty lies in the little pleasures that life and mundanity, at large, have to offer. 

In both Here and Perfect Days, the environment, specifically plants, plays a significant role in the lives of its characters; they find serenity when surrounded by nature. In one key moment, Stefan finds a strange assortment of seeds in his pocket, unsure where they came from. Shortly thereafter, he’s safeguarding them as though they’re magic, the makings of a beanstalk. In Here and Fallen Leaves, romance looms, though its fruition doesn’t make or break either work; it’s merely a device deployed in an effort to cement connection between strangers, and far from their connection’s defining element.

In all three films, the act of living life on life’s terms is front of mind. And while Here’s exploration of that idea is not exactly vast, it’s also far from diminutive. Instead, it’s individualized, for both the characters under Devos’ microscope and every unique viewer. Emotions are subtly conveyed in this film, but immensely felt, because that’s what really matters. A lesser film might trigger an emotional outburst of some kind in an effort to prove to audiences that the characters they have invested time in are capable of feeling as deeply as they are. Here, however, is a film that values its characters’ interests and desires almost as much as they do, and thus commands the audience to do the same. If you’ve never cared about moss before, you’ll almost certainly never look at it the same way.

Grade: A-

Director: S.J. Clarkson
Writers: Matt Sazama, Burk Sharpless, Claire Parker
Stars: Dakota Johnson, Sydney Sweeney, Isabela Merced

Synopsis: Cassandra Webb is a New York metropolis paramedic who begins to demonstrate signs of clairvoyance. Forced to challenge revelations about her former, she needs to safeguard three young women from a deadly adversary who wants them destroyed.

Madame Web has some of the most blatant and awful product placement we have seen since Keanu Reeves and Jennifer Connelly pulled up to a McDonald’s parking lot to try their new line of coffee known as the McCafe in The Day the Earth Stood Still. So, you can’t help but be confused about whether to thank the Pepsi-Cola corporation, blame them, or feel bad for them. 

They stop short of Bill Cosby opening up a can of Coke in the center frame of Ghost Dad and replying with “ahh” to signify refreshment. No, the studio has the filmmakers have the product placement practically be the hero of the story in defeating a foe, which is so outlandish that you can’t help but be impressed with the courage to sink the comic book genre to an all-time low.

This is the fourth film in the spectacular downfall of Sony’s Spider-Man Universe. The resounding thud of Madame Web has inspired me to start a petition for the studio never to make another SSU film again. S.J. Clarkson (Anatomy of a Scandal) directed this gigantic cinematic cliche. She co-wrote the script with Claire Parker, who took over the suicide mission from the Morbius writing team, Matt Sazama and Burk Sharpless. The result is a bloated episode of the television series Heroes with the leads sleepwalking through their roles. 

The story follows Cassie Webb (Dakota Johnson), a paramedic living her most average life in New York City. She and her partner, Ben (Adam Scott), drive around, saving lives. Cassie was an orphan because her mother, Constance (Halt and Catch Fire’s Kerry Bishe), died looking for a spider in the rainforest that cures hundreds of diseases. 

The twist is that she travels while pregnant with Cassie. When she locates the predatory arachnid, her guide, Ezekiel (Napoleon’s Tahar Rahim), takes the eight-legged freak for himself. Constance is shot, but an indigenous Peruvian tribe can deliver the baby, but not before biting Cassie’s mom, which gives her clairvoyant powers that have remained dormant until now. 

She then has visions of three teenagers who are going to be kill a demonically dressed Spider-Man. One is the daughter of a woman, the shy Julia (superstar Sydney Sweeney) who Cassie saved. Another is Anya (Isabell Merced), who lives in Cassie’s building. The final one is punk rock skateboarding chick Mattie (Selah and the Spades’s Celeste O’Connor), who gave Cassie the middle finger after she stopped her ambulance from running her over during oncoming traffic.

There’s simply no rhyme or reason for almost anything that happens in Madame Web. For one, the four female characters coming together have no real reason for existing other than to sell you diabetes and dementia-causing fizzy water and steal your hard-earned money at theatrical prices. The attempted backstory connecting Cassie and Sims to the teenagers is inexplicably lazy. 

So are the head-scratching time cuts. Cassie can travel to a jungle in Peru to talk to members of the Las Arañas tribe. Yet, Cassie comes back the same day, over 3652 miles a few hours later, to help Ben defend the girls who have no reason to be part of the story, to begin with, other than to spark a franchise for Sweeny, who has little to do in the movie in the first place. 

There’s no backstory to establish Rahim’s villainous character, not even during his jaw-droppingly bad exposition scene with Jill Hennessy’s unnamed NSA agent. That scene defines what’s wrong with Madame Web. Sims repeats the story endlessly. That’s the same device used consistently with Johnson’s titular character. 

However, the scenes are so poorly put together, edited, and acted with Johnson’s trademark “whispering in monotone” (thank you, Please Don’t Destroy) in a wide variety of intense situations that it’s like experiencing nails across a chalkboard repeatedly in a nightmare version of Groundhog Day. We can only pray that the rodent doesn’t see a sequel in our future.

Madame Web even squanders the fun of being an unofficial prequel to the Spider-Man franchise, where Ben is supposed to play Uncle Ben. His sister-in-law, Mary Parker (Emma Roberts), alludes to her unborn baby as the future Tobey Maguire, Andrew Garfield, or Tom Holland. (Considering this SSU entry quality, my money is on Garfield.)

I’m not sure what else you can say about Madame Web. The film feels like the filmmakers are working from a storyboard rather than a script because hardly anything connects individual scenes. All I know is this is my Hudson Hawk. It was one of the most painful theatrical experiences of my entire life. I owe an apology to The Marvels—one with flowers, candy, and jewelry to smooth things over. 

Grade: F

Director: Pulkit
Writers: Jyotsana Nath, Pulkit
Stars: Bhumi Pednekar, Sanjay Mishra, Aditya Srivastava

Synopsis: Revolves around the journey of an unwavering woman’s quest to seek justice and her perseverance in getting a heinous crime to light.

The role of a journalist, or their mission, has been heavily debated over the years. Should they objectively report the news or involve themselves in a story to hold the people in power accountable? In Bhakshak, Vaishali Singh (Bhumi Pednekar) wants to do the latter after she receives a tip from her source that a government-funded shelter home has been engaging in the abuse (and murder) of young girls. The police know what is happening but do not intervene, as the man who runs the home, Bansi Sahu (Aditya Srivastava), has several government officials and police officers in his pockets. 

As Vaishali learns more about what’s going on, she wants to bring this story to light to expose all the figures involved, but her family thinks it’s a futile – and dangerous – effort. Her news channel barely gets any views, and Sahu immediately targets family members to shut her up. However, Vaishali never backs down despite these intimidation tactics, even when her brother-in-law gets severely injured and wants to investigate the story as deeply as she can so the truth can be uncovered to the public and the people responsible for these heinous crimes are behind bars. 

This causes a division in her family, with plenty of one-dimensional dialogue scenes attempting to give emotional stakes to the proceedings. Her family is more concerned about Vaishali’s husband than her quest for the truth and would rather she procreate before it’s too late. Yeah, instead of attempting to save young girls from extreme abuse, her family’s focus is on Vaishali having kids. However, she immediately claps back with one hell of an impassioned monologue, in which she reverses the situation and asks her family, what if she was stuck in a home with no way out and was forced to sell her body to Sahu just to survive? It’s at that moment when Vaishali’s quest for objectivity leaves her mind, as it has now become a life-or-death situation for her and the girls who are still being abused by the men and women who run the shelter. 

Produced by Gauri Khan and Gaurav Verma, Bhakshak asks timely questions about journalism’s purpose in society, especially in a country where corruption runs rampant. And while its flaws stick out like a sore thumb, the importance of a film like this cannot be overstated. Director Pulkit doesn’t shy away from showing harrowing moments of abuse either. While nothing explicit is shown on screen, the agonizing screams from its victims are enough to make your stomach churn. 

Perhaps the antagonists are stretched out to be as one-note as possible, but Srivastava’s portrayal of Sahu is terrifying in and of itself. He posits himself as a calm and patient man who has done a lot for the community, which is what he continuously says to Vaishali, only for his darker side to reveal itself as the camera observes him in the shelter, making innocent girls beg for their lives as he beats them with a belt and rapes them. Vaishali sees right through Sahu’s calm demeanor and fake smile and will stop at nothing until his entire operation shuts down. 

However, it will prove far more complex than she initially thought, especially when she learns that Mithilesh Sinha (Chittaranjan Tripathy), who works for the Child Welfare Association, is a key player in Sahu’s operation, paid off to tamper with files and bring anyone who escaped from the shelter back into Sahu’s hands. The corruption is even deeper when government officials deliberately ignore taking action at Sahu, but some things will have to change once Vaishali publicizes their involvement. 

The best parts of Bhakshak are when Pulkit observes Vaishali believing in the transformative power of journalism as a vehicle for truth to be conveyed since the ones in power don’t want it to come out. In that sense, journalism is treated here as a watchdog for democracy, which many scholars believe is its primary function (Rasmus Kleis Nielsen disagrees, but that’s a story for another time). Pulkit treats it as such and gives its central figure enough time to shine so that the truth comes out naturally when all the pieces are laid out. 

As such, Pednekar gives a career-defining performance after a streak of lousy turns. Her plentiful monologues as she gradually gives more proof to the public are confidently delivered, and the film’s bravura sequence in which she begs Indians to fight for what’s right and stand up against oppressors is as timely of a message as ever. This arc is the only reason Bhakshak is worth watching — showing the lengths a journalist has to go for the truth, especially in a climate where trust in the media is at an all-time low, and users turn to angrier, less truthful depictions of society. 

Against all odds, Vaishali shows how transformative journalism can be, especially when used against corrupt governments who would rather fill their pockets with dirty money than bring these criminals to justice. It’s a tale as old as time but one whose message needs to be reaffirmed in an era when journalism faces more challenges than ever. Journalism is a deeply human activity in which its best pieces humanize its subjects in a way that no one else can. Vaishali not only brings out the truth of a corrupt system but also humanizes the ones who have been oppressed and abused for years when nothing has been done. As a result, the victims saved by Vaishali’s journalistic activities are the real heroes of the story, the ones we must remember when the full picture of this story is revealed. 

Through this figure of a truth-seeking Vaishali, Pednekar reminds us all why journalism must – and will – survive. 

Grade: B

Director: Emma Westenberg
Writers: Vera Bulder, Ruby Caster, Elle Malan
Stars: Ewan McGregor, Clara McGregor, Jake Weary

Synopsis: A father takes his estranged daughter on a road trip in an effort to get her out of trouble. Along the way they meet all types of strangers, as their strained relationship is put to the test.

Emma Westenberg’s New Mexico set drama Bleeding Love is, at times, too raw to not feel that it is a deeply personal story for Clara McGregor and her father Ewan McGregor. Both actors have spoken openly about their issues with addiction. Ewan became an alcoholic after starring as Renton in Trainspotting in 1996. Clara was heavily medicated for anxiety disorders. Clara publicly denounced her father for divorcing her mother and starting a new family with a younger actor. The issues of abandonment, addiction, and resentment fuel Turbo’s (or Daughter – Clara McGregor) deep distrust of her father. She almost died of an overdose earlier in the day when Father (Ewan McGregor) convinces her to go from San Diego to Santa Fe to meet a man who might be interested in exhibiting her art.

The screenwriters, including Ruby Caster, Vera Bulder, Elle Malan, and Clara McGregor waste no time setting up the fractured dynamics between Daughter and Father. Daughter is listening to “I’m Yer Dad,” by Grlwood and ignoring every effort Father is making to communicate with her. She stares out the window, sickly and sweaty. She makes Father pull over so she can pee and then runs off into the desert. Where she was planning to escape to is irrelevant. There is nothing for miles. She just doesn’t want to be with her father.

The opening circles back to Ewan McGregor’s breakout role as Renton in Trainspotting. One thing Renton did a lot of in that film was running. Here, as a man playing someone in his late forties, he is chasing after his daughter – aged twenty. It is a reminder that there is a generation who saw Renton and his escapades as something almost cool before it lurched into inevitable tragedy. The question the film asks is if Daughter, who is now faster than Father, is going to end up a statistic to drug abuse. And just how much of her predilection for addictive behavior came directly from the alcoholic man who walked out on her when she was a child?

Bleeding Love has the gritty realism of someone hitting rock bottom and trying to ignore the fact that they have. But it also has a hazy fairy tale quality. From the flashbacks to young Turbo (Devyn McDowell) and the perceived fun that a child has with a reckless parent, to the odd assortment of people Father and Daughter meet on the road. Some are magical helpers, and some are big bad wolves. Westenberg’s flashbacks have a distinct Florida Project feel. 

Father has rebuilt his life via AA and is doing everything he can to help daughter rebuild hers. Yet, daughter has no reason to trust him. Why should she? For his part, Father has to do more than say sorry; he has to prove he does love the child he abandoned. No easy task because a ‘mea culpa’ doesn’t suffice when he has been gone for her formative years. He can be as good humored and concerned as he likes in Daughter’s eyes – but nothing fixes the fact he now has a new family with a son who he reads bedtime stories to. Something that she didn’t get in her chaotic childhood.

Westenberg uses New Mexico to her advantage. Christopher Ripley’s cinematography captures the beauty and the strangeness of the state. Deserts, dive bars, strip malls, abandoned spaces, bizarre themed motels, and collectives made by people living on the fringe of society. A busted tire means Father and Daughter are picked up by a gun-toting astrologist tow-truck driver. Elsie (Kim Zimmer) takes her to her found and actual family of generous people living mostly off grid. Daughter meets Kip (Jake Weary, who in real life is Kim Zimmer’s son) who is dressed as a party clown and tries to seduce him to get booze and drugs. The hapless guy is half smitten by Daughter, but also intimidated. He doesn’t realize she’s underage and is ill prepared for the blowback he gets from Father.

A gift of a pumpkin gets handed on to a truck stop sex worker, Tommy (Vera Bulder) who helps when Daughter is bitten by a spider on the side of the road. In a glitter filled moment, Father and Daughter watch Tommy perform in the headlights. Tommy is going to get out of town and be a playwright and actor – she’s headed for New York City and the boulevard of broken dreams. Maybe Daughter can provide her art for the background sets to her plays? Maybe Tommy will make it… maybe Father and Daughter will too.

Another encounter which happens after Daughter realizes that Father is not taking her to meet a gallery owner, but instead is driving her to rehab is with a feral drug addict and his partner (Travis Hammer and Eve Kozikowski). Eli and Kentucky fill her full of dangerous drugs and dump her on the road. Father desperately searches for her in bars. While Daughter spins out of control in one scene the cross fade has a bartender putting a shot of liquor in front of Father. Is it possible they will both be overcome by their vices?

Music is the one point where the good memories exist for Father and Daughter. They joyously sing Leona Lewis’ ‘Bleeding Love’ (which doubles as the title of the film, which was originally called You Sing Loud, I Sing Louder). ‘Seabird’ by the Alessi Brothers is another key work. Ewan McGregor is not only a distinguished dramatic and comedic talent – he is also a well-known song and dance man. The connection Father and Daughter through music is essential. It’s unfiltered joy and pain.

Clara McGregor is a captivating screen presence and her natural chemistry with Ewan is palpable. The script takes decided and quite funny digs at Ewan – the presumption that Father and Daughter are actually a couple by many characters is quite pointed. Bleeding Love is obviously fiction – but the elements of emotional truth will resonate with many fathers and daughters. People have to take responsibility for their lives and the damage they caused and are causing. 

Eventually Father has to give Daughter the keys to her own life – a decision which is built out of a tenuous trust on both their behalf. Father admits the damage he has done: “Things start to slip away. I was acting like a child, but I had a child,” he says in an impromptu AA meeting. He is speaking directly to his daughter. Daughter has to admit that she is indeed an addict, and that she can’t stop anytime she likes.

Bleeding Love is an accomplished first feature. There are moments where it can be a bit heavy handed with the metaphors, and like its protagonists it is not without flaws. However, it is ultimately a work about redemption and trust. “You are like me. But better. I love you more,” is inscribed in Father’s diary which he gives to Daughter. A road trip across New Mexico and the space trail with added Roswell weirdness. A fairy tale. An extended apology. An act of forgiveness. Bleeding Love is a calling card for both Clara McGregor and Emma Westenberg. 

Grade: B-

Director: Laura Chinn
Writer: Laura Chinn
Stars: Nico Parker, Laura Linney, Woody Harrelson

Synopsis: While caring for her brother along with her audacious mother, a teenager strikes up a friendship with an eccentric activist who is protesting one of the most landmark medical cases of all time.

The film Suncoast made its debut at Sundance last month and had a short turnaround on Hulu a few weeks later. The movie is a semi-autobiographical tale of its writer and director, Lauren Chinn. She has written a story about her experiences helping raise her brother, who was stricken with a terminal illness. The story is emotionally raw while combining the type of coming-of-age narrative that is empathetic and unafraid to strip away the sugarcoating from the mother-daughter relationship.

Nico Parker (Dumbo) plays Doris, the character inspired by a small window of her high school life. Doris is a loner, socially awkward, and, unfortunately, has no friends. That’s not because she’s a bad kid. She has been cut off from the rest of the world because she is helping take care of her brother, Max, who has brain cancer. The tumor has taken over his body, and he can no longer speak or move. (It appears that he may have a condition known as aphasia.)

As a result, in order to pay the medical bills and send Doris to a better school, her forthright mother, Kristine (Laura Linney), works seven days a week. However, Max’s degenerative disease is progressing to the point where he needs all-day care at a facility called Suncoast, a hospice facility in town. Kristine, overcome with guilt, decides to sleep in the same room as Max so he won’t be alone. The move is devastating to Doris. However, she begins to form new friendships, inviting a group of “cool” kids to her home because her mother no longer lives there.

Chinn’s movie embraces the modern trope of friends forming a support system around Doris, which is refreshing. What’s nice about the script is that these kids act like dumb teenagers but are considerate enough not to dismiss Doris’s situation callously. The other support comes from a man Doris meets at Suncoast, Paul (Woody Harrelson). The character acts as a temporary surrogate parent, guiding her through complex thoughts even if Doris doesn’t want to hear them.

Now, the character of Paul may be based on someone or a composite of a couple of characters from Chinn’s life. However, the relationship is inappropriate for various obvious reasons. A teenage girl hanging out with an adult male nearly four times her age without parental consent is borderline negligent. We also consider this a storytelling device to move the plot along and highlight how consumed Kristine is by ignoring her other child’s emotional needs—you have never seen a teenager want to be needed by a parent more.

In a striking scene, when Doris tells her mother she’s her child too, Linney is cold and flippant, snorting at such a remark. Linney can create a character detached from being mindful of the people she has left in her life, which is maddening and also sad. Doris then becomes an evolving character by slowing coming to grips with othechild’Chinn’s time limit. There are several scenes like that in Chinn’s semi-autobiographical tale, including a jaw-dropping one where Kristine harshly pretends Max is about to pass to get her daughter to come home after sneaking out to be with her friends.

The point of Suncoast is that you have a child like Doris who is achingly trying to be seen. By anyone, really. It’s hard to argue with a script inspired by actual events, but Suncoast doesn’t recognize how much Doris is a child in crisis. One of the reasons I have issues with biographical films is that a filmmaker who is the subject has a brutally unfiltered view of others (like Kristine), and the author, in turn, will show a filtered view of themselves. Essentially, deep insights into childhood isolation, loneliness, and depression are largely ignored.
And that’s fine, to a degree. Suncoast’s tale about a mother and daughter’s relationship that a thread has held onto for years can be emotionally raw at times, perhaps using too many film cliches to keep the story moving. However, Linney’s performance, which evolves from an emotional wrecking ball to a cocoon of warm reassurance, has a beautiful candor. Overall, Chinn’s film hits the right notes when the story counts, and her coming-of-age can resonate with her audience.

Grade: B-

Director: Jee-woon Kim
Writers: Jee-woon Kim, Yeon-Shick Shin
Stars: Park Jeong-su, Krystal Jung, Oh Jung-se

Synopsis: Described as an experimental and genre-defying drama shot entirely on sound stages in support of a film-within-a-film narrative.s.

Cobweb can easily be viewed as another exercise in filmmakers’ self-importance in the world around them. And on the surface, it can be. However, as Jee-woon Kim’s black comedy unfolds, the filmmaker’s subversive film experience begins to poke fun at the establishment while simultaneously challenging the establishment about why truth is essential in any entertainment art form. Kim’s South Korean tale of obsession is a darkly funny and skillfully crafted work of meta-cinema.

The story follows Kim (Parasite’s Song Kang-ho), a director obsessed with finishing his current film. The director’s career has been on a downward slope since his acclaimed movie, which was made after the death of his mentor. The production company funding his project is under strict budgetary restrictions and also under the eye of the South Korean government’s censorship program (known as “The Korean Motion Picture Promotion Corporation,” created by President Park Chung Hee, known as the authoritarian Yusin System).

The movie, AKA Cobweb, is finished, but suddenly, a reworked ending develops inside his head, and he asks for two more days. The company’s owner, the widow of his mentor, Chairwoman Baek (Jang Young-Nam), refuses to give Kim extra time. In part, her staff is also worried about how the government may react to such a daring ending. That’s until the daughter of his late mentor and co-owner, Shim (Jeon Yeo-been), a staunch supporter of Kim, reads the rewritten ending and thinks it’s a masterpiece. She grants the days while Baek is out of town.

Kim’s script works because of the supporting characters he draws, one of the best ensembles you may see this year. There is Kang (Oh Jung-se), a Hallyuwood star who never met an actress he shared the screen with but didn’t sleep with, even though he’s married. He gets Yu-rim (Krystal Jung) pregnant and smothers her, to her dismay, when she only cares about returning to being the star of her K-drama. Some of the movie’s best scenes are between Jung’s Yu-rim and Yeo-been’s Shim, who have a legendary feud, while the latter acts like a tyrant to keep the cast in line.

Kim’s Cobweb isn’t a composite of a group of directors but obviously of himself. His obsession offers a dark (sometimes playful) commentary on filmmaking. You learn a lot about the process from the film. In particular, the third act’s climax is how the scene would be shot in one glorious tracking shot. Almost all the actors are offered their moments to shine comedically. In particular, Young-Nam and Yeo-been have often hilarious deadpan deliveries. 

Cobweb will remind you of films like Black Bear and Birdman or (The Unexpected Virtue of Ignorance) in the way you may question what’s real or not. (Kim has several compelling scenes from his film shot in stunning black and white.) Also, there is an obsession with an artist’s vision. What was striking is how Kim’s film puts truth on trial in Cobweb, which is revealed in the film’s highly entertaining third act. For example, someone like Shim could not possibly be an actor, and Yu-rim could find truth in her character, even in salacious scenes.  While, by the end, showing the subversive veracity of what truth means to the central figures themselves. 

That makes Cobweb a story of redemption seen through the eyes of Song Kang-ho’s interpretation of Kim’s moral and professional character. The film is a filmmaker’s journey of self-discovery and reinvention of themselves. 

Grade: A

Director: Zelda Williams
Writer: Diablo Cody
Stars: Kathryn Newton, Cole Sprouse, Liza Soberano

Synopsis: A coming of RAGE love story about a teenager and her crush, who happens to be a corpse. After a set of horrific circumstances bring him back to life, the two embark on a journey to find love, happiness – and a few missing body parts.

It’s hard to describe the feeling you get leaving the theater after watching Lisa Frankenstein. There’s a hodge podge of emotions. You’ll find yourself grossed out, confused, strangely melancholy, and in stitches at the wackiness that hit you like a strange dream. Is Lisa Frankenstein perfect? In parts, yes, but as a whole it feels a little too much like chopped up pieces sewn into a new form.

The film is a little slow to get going. With director Zelda Williams’ flair for dreaminess, we sort of get trapped in a state of not knowing how we should feel about certain characters or situations. Much of LisaFrankenstein plays like a fantasy sequence, even with its own fantasy sequences within. It was hard not to wonder if a theory can be developed, like the famous Ferris Bueller’s Day Off theory*, that everything after Lisa gets a shock from a faulty tanning bed is all in her head. This script by Diablo Cody is not as snappy as some of her previous films. It has some excellent laughs, but it lacks some of the bite she’s known for, possibly because of an effort to make this a more accessible PG-13. Where the script really struggles is in the overall story.

Lisa Frankenstein is a mishmash of genres sewn together. While it’s a horror comedy, it also fits into the subgenre of coming of age, with direct homage to ’80s teen films of the John Hughes variety and 19th century love stories a la Jane Austen. None of these really quite connect and they fail to spark something truly supernatural. Though, once the film leans into its strangeness, it takes on something extraordinarily enjoyable.

Especially Kathryn Newton’s exceptional performance as Lisa. Her performance has several different layers to it from her grief over her mother, her anger at her father remarrying so soon, and angst at switching schools just before senior year. She takes every change in circumstance and weaves some beautiful magic from it, releasing Lisa from her cocoon of insecurity into a terrific goth butterfly. It’s just a nerdy girl coming into her own. Newton is matched perfectly by the physical performance of Cole Sprouse as The Creature. Sprouse can communicate so much with a look and a grunt which is as impressive as it is entertaining to watch.

There’s a beautiful alchemy in the craft of the film that keeps the audience engaged. Meagan McLaughlin’s costumes from The Creature’s band tees and blazers to Lisa’s incredible goth outfits are stellar. They bring the characters to life in new ways. The same goes for production designer Mark Worthington, art director Michelle C. Harmon, and set decorator Andrew W. Bowfinger’s teams creating a cemetery to swoon over, superb fantasy sequences on practical sets and some truly amazing ‘80s interiors. Praise to the makeup and hairstyling teams, as well, for a superior job on The Creature’s different states of decay as well as the fabulous period hair.

Lisa Frankenstein, when put under the microscope, is a little lacking. The nuts and bolts are there, but the product seems only partially finished. It could be that the film needs a couple of viewings before it really sinks in. It’s thoroughly enjoyable in spite of its flaws and it will make you appreciate REO Speedwagon’s “Can’t Fight This Feeling” in an entirely new way. See it with a bunch of people because the crowd reaction is almost as enjoyable as the film.

*The Ferris Bueller’s Day Off theory is that when the camera zooms in on Ferris’ friend Cameron’s face at the Art Institute of Chicago, Cameron has a small break with reality and we enter Cameron’s fantasy for the rest of the film.

Grade: B

Director: Reinaldo Marcus Green
Writers: Terence Winter, Frank E. Flowers, Zach Baylin
Stars: Kingsley Ben-Adir, James Norton, Lashana Lynch

Synopsis: The story of how reggae icon Bob Marley overcame adversity, and the journey behind his revolutionary music.

Biographical films are always slippery. There is sometimes a sweet spot where a director can give a meaningful cinematic version of the subject. There are other times when so many details of someone’s life are alluded to but not discussed to retain the perceived integrity of the people involved. Then there is the biographical picture which just jots down key points and makes a lot of the “facts” up. And then, there is the biographical film where the audience feels like they need Wikipedia just to understand what is going on. Unfortunately, Reinaldo Marcus Green’s Bob Marley: One Love is a mix of every category except for the one it should be in – the sweet spot.

Opening with some facts such as Bob Marley was born in 1945 in the Saint Ann Parish in Jamaica, was raised by a single mother, grew up in the hardscrabble area Trenchtown in Kingston. Despite his struggles, by 1976 he was the most famous Jamaican music artist in the world. The film loops back to his early childhood on a plantation with his white British father who left his mother; his teen years where he meets and falls in love with both music, Rastafari, and Alfarita Anderson (later known as Rita Marley), his evolving music career, and the pivotal shooting before the Smile Jamaica concert which made him decide he had to flee Jamaica for the safety of family, friends, and to protect his own life.

Robert Nesta Marley is played by three actors – primarily the regularly excellent Kingsley Ben-Adir. However, there is a mostly wordless child version who leans on his mother’s chest, runs out of a can fire chasing or being chased by a man in British colonial garb. The teen version of Bob has conversations with Alfarita in Trenchtown after his mother has emigrated to the United States. They both feel they are in some ways orphans – they both love to express themselves through music. They become enraptured by the teachings of Ethiopian emperor Haile Selassie I and Jamaican politician, Marcus Garvey.

Beyond the short prelude, the audience is thrust into Bob Marley’s life just before the day of the 56 Hope Road shooting on December 3rd, 1976. Bob gets up early. Runs with his friends and fellow Wailers, plays football with them. Has his kids Ziggy and Stephen with him. Gunshots can be heard all around. Kingston is a controlled city and Jamaica was declared to be in a state of emergency in January 1976 by Prime Minister Michael Manley. Violence is everywhere while two parties are struggling for political control. Bob is interviewed by world journalists about the Smile Jamaica concert, ostensibly organized by Manley’s People’s National Party to help usher in a kind of peace in the region.

Reinaldo Marcus Green and his extended list of screenwriters use the early part of the film up to, and including, the shooting to do a massive information dump. We see Bob as the family man, interacting with his children and his wife, Rita (Lashana Lynch). We see Bob the musician and patois speaking Rastafari inspiration to the people of Jamaica. We see Bob interact with his Wailers and jam with them. And we meet his friend and manager Chris Blackwell (James Norton). They are celebrating during the evening at the large house on Hope Road when a group of young men, more than likely sent by Manley’s opposition Edward Seaga, break in and shoot four people. Included in those four are Rita who was shot in the head, Don Taylor, Louis Griffths, and of course Bob. “Is Seaga men! Dem come fi kill Bob!” someone yells in the chaos. 

The most indelible piece of acting Ben-Adir does in the film is when he looks into the eyes of the young shooter. At first, it is almost a warm welcome when he sees the youth, then the realization that the boy has a gun in his hand. That realization registers not as fear but profound disappointment verging on empathy. In that one small exchange, the film has perhaps said everything that needed to be said about the hope for peace which Marley held and his general goodwill to people.

No one is fatally wounded – but the bullets are still bullets, and Rita especially is lucky to have escaped with her life. Two days later, Bob has organized his exit from Jamaica. He is sending Rita and the children to his mother in America, and he will go to London with any of the Wailers prepared to follow him. Two days later he also plays the Smile Jamaica concert beginning his set with ‘War’, his song set to the proclamation of Haile Selassie. After the shooting and the Smile Jamaica concert Bob Marley: One Love just falls into a lot of labored tropes.

Bob is depressed. Bob is disconnected. England is a safer refuge. He goes to see The Clash: which acknowledges the rise of Ska – but also the white nationalist skinheads also around. White coppers are still racist, and he gets put in prison for marijuana. Bob becomes less depressed when making his most famous album “Exodus” (which according to the film was inspired by the “Theme from Exodus” by Ernest Gold written for the 1958 Preminger epic). Bob is cheating on Rita. Bob is the chief who everyone listens to. Bob notices that people around him aren’t acting ethically. Bob flashes back to the shooting, his formative years, his childhood. 

“Exodus” becomes a world-wide smash and Bob Marley and the Wailers tour all over Europe being greeted with champagne by Royalty and politicians. Yet he both longs to return to Jamaica and dreads it. He becomes violent with Don Taylor. Rita tells him, “This is not the way,” and yells at him for his flaws which are almost all justified in the film.

There is a prestigious amount of talent in the film. Both Lynch and Ben-Adir are doing their very best with the material they are given, and both make one feel like they understand Marley’s music. The understanding of Marley’s music comes down to the fact that many of the Wailers are played by children of the original members. Almost all of them are musicians. For the concert performance, Stephen Marley takes on Ben-Adir’s vocals. Do a quick rundown of the cast and it includes Micheal Ward, Ben Gandolfini, and Tosin Cole. Anna-Sharé Blake, Naomi Cowan appear as the other I-Threes along with Lynch.

Bob Marley: One Love is very much a family affair – and perhaps that is what hampers the film the most. Few films can do an adequate cradle to the grave portrait of any artist with a career as influential and important as Bob Marley’s. It is also nigh on impossible to explain everything that was going on in Jamaica not only at the time, but right back to its colonized history. If the audience wants to know anything concrete about Marley they are consistently blocked by vagueness and proclamations by other characters about his greatness. Hence when we see that the man on the horse in the pith helmet isn’t his Norval Marley, but Haile Selassie offering the ten-year-old boy his hand in friendship and fatherhood; the gesture which is supposed to be filled with power and mental liberation for Bob, is just confusing.

Bob Marley: One Love is buoyed by the performances when it slows down long enough for the audience to absorb them. Kingsley Ben-Adir does some outstanding work as Marley – inhabiting his accent, his mannerisms, and stage presence. Likewise, Lashana Lynch, herself of Jamaican background is wonderful as Rita when she actually has a chance to act. James Norton is often doing solid but unnoticed work as an actor. 

Despite everything Reinaldo Marcus Green does to lend veracity to the film, including shooting on location in Jamaica and the Hope Street mansion, and the addition of reputable musicians, Bob Marley: One Love is overwhelmed by shallow artifice. Those who know little about the icon, peace activist, pan-African symbol, and one of the most important musicians of the twentieth-century will emerge from the film feeling not much wiser. For fans, the film is flimsy and overly metaphorical. Bob Marley: One Love claims to be the apogee of understanding who Bob Marley was in encompassing his complexity – yet it is both rote and confounding. Bob Marley deserves better, as does the audience.

Grade: D