PILGRIMS
Paulius and Indre seek answers to a mystery that plagues them. PILGRIMS draws you in from the get-go as we follow our two leads down a path of emotional self-destruction and healing. They share a bond no one wants.
Giedrius Kiela and Gabija Bargailaite play Paulius and Indre, respectively. Each brings qualities of pain. Kiela’s aggression has the audience in a death grip. His volatility is frightening. Bargailaite is more subtle. Her unraveling happens in a finale that breaks you. They are hypnotizing. 
Slick editing and long takes on a stationary camera make the audience an unwilling witness to Paulius and Indre’s plans. The script’s structure leaves much to the imagination as clues come slowly. My mind swirled as I watched Paulius walk Indre through the crime’s timeline. You feel compelled to keep watching. As someone whose close friend died under mysterious circumstances years ago, the unresolved pain and trauma are palpable. The need to understand and reason with the devil never fades, no matter how many years go by. PILGRIMS captures the very messy essence of grief.
Thomas Parigi‘s performance transfixes. His ability to hold the audience in the palm of his hands, quite literally in this case, has the viewer waiting with bated breath for his next move. Parigi is a musician. His Soundcloud is as mesmerizing as his performance in the film. This debut role should garner him the attention he deserves. Parigi pulls you into this one-of-a-kind folklore horror dealing with loss, love, self-confidence, and generational embracement. The Strange Case of Jacky Caillou is an undisputable gem.
The cast’s chemistry is spectacular. Michael Urie is Jamie, Larry’s fiance. He’s the most down-to-earth of the bunch, with the better part of his screen time in sequences over the phone. Urie can do no wrong in my book. Veanne Cox is Sylvia. Her performance is frightening and downright brilliant. I would watch a stand-alone film on her character. 
Nicholas Logan plays Harrison. His overtly masculine energy, physical discomfort, and aggressive nature are a perfect foil for our four friends. His aura forces the audience to take stock of microaggressions and outright bigotry. Logan handles the distasteful behavior like a champ, and Harrison’s arch is a nuanced breath of fresh air.
SUMMONING SYLVIA is one of the funniest queer films of the year. As a theatre girl, I was in my element. I knew these characters. The film’s climax has a dual purpose that beautifully mirrors life and the afterlife. The finale is celebratory. Do not miss this hell of a good time.
Two dominant themes in The Lost King are disability visibility and gender bias. Phillipa feels a kinship with Richard, angered he has been deemed a monster due to his severe scoliosis. It seems Shakespeare had a hand in demonizing his appearance for these years. The historical digging that happens in the film is eye-opening. She is whipsmart and undeterred in her mission to clear King Richard’s sullied reputation. We feel the frustration as Philiipa comes up against men taking credit for her work. Cheering her on when she stands up for herself, choosing to spread a strong feminist message to young girls rather than chase the fame regaled onto male archeologists on her dig.
The film’s magical realism adds a beautiful element to Phillipa’s journey. It highlights the emotional pull to finish her search. Not to mention how charming actor Harry Lloyd is as Richard. Steve Coogan plays Phillipa’s ex-husband John, a man going through a mid-life crisis who grows to respect Phillipa’s passion for her subject. Coogan is an icon and is no less intriguing in this role. Sally Hawkins plays Phillipa. Her ability to live in a character’s skin is magnificent. Her physicality dazzles. She can do no wrong in my book. Her enthusiasm is contagious.
THE WORST ONES is a meta-narrative that succeeds in conveying hope through hardship. Not only does the film shine in its storytelling, embracing heartbreak and socioeconomic trauma, but the performances also by our four young actors will hypnotize the viewer. Check out the clip below for a taste:
ENDLESS SEA
2022’s reboot thrived by finding the perfect balance of new + nostalgia. While that film could be seen as a symbolic passing of the torch from Neve Campbell’s Sydney Prescott to Barrera’s Sam, it is still jarring to watch a Scream film without Sydney. Especially when Scream 6 is so clearly inspired by Scream 2 (talk about sentences you never think you will write), which similarly followed Sydney as she escaped Woodsboro for a fictional college setting. This time though, Courtney Cox is the only original star returning, and she struggles to provide a meaningful link to the weight of original films. Honestly, with so many of the other beloved characters missing in action, a clean break might have been the better approach.
The much-promoted New York setting ultimately feels a bit underused – filming actually occurred in Montreal, and there are only a few scenes that truly attempt to capture the energy of the city. It’s a shame because those scenes are some of my favorites in the whole film. There’s a moment where Sam and Tara hide from Ghostface in a bodega, only to realize that this killer is willing to use weapons even more deadly than a knife. Another scene on the NYC subway captures the rising anxiety facing the city’s public transit today, where a rise in unprovoked attacks has left citizens suspicious of their fellow passengers. But that’s largely it – it feels like a waste of the setting (although to be fair, New York has posed a challenging setting for horror films in the past.) What about Ghostface popping up in a cab, a chase through central park, or a set piece on one of the iconic bridges?
The insights into Caro’s work process are breathtaking. One moment, in particular, stands out: while working on one of the volumes focused on the life of Lyndon Johnson, Caro had the opportunity to interview Johnson’s younger brother, Sam Houston Johnson. A tremendous opportunity, but Caro found he wasn’t getting the level of rich detail he craved. So, he brings Sam back into his childhood kitchen and has him sit in the very chair he sat in as a young boy. Caro sits behind him so that everything appears just as it would be in Sam’s memories. It is only then that Caro asks his questions again. Talk about literal background research. 
Turn Every Page offers a peek behind the curtain of a complex and critical industry. Ironically, what it offers very little of is the dynamic between its two titular protagonists. Aside from one scene, they never interact on camera. Despite director Lizzie Gottlieb’s best efforts, this cannot help but feel a bit like a missed opportunity. In this framing, both men are free to lay their own narratives. It would have been a pleasure to see them challenged to edit one another’s perspectives.
Yale University’s meticulous record-keeping in the Sterling library proves invaluable. After scanning 60, 000 pages in the microform media room, the aha moment appears; a 1959 letter between 
Kimi’s traumatic childhood and Russia’s national political upheaval created the perfect ticking time bomb of existence. He and Marusya needed each other to stay alive, but unresolved trauma is a killer lying in wait. Through marriage, rehab, divorce, and Kimi on a headlong downward spiral, Marusya must find other ways to dull the inner chaos. She had to decide, make a plan to live, or join her innumerable friends in suicide.
The intimate nature of Bad Axe is visceral. The Siev family could be anyone’s neighbors. They are friendly, hardworking, and respectful members of their community. They bug each other as much as they love each other. They remind me of my holidays when all four siblings invade our childhood home with inside jokes, arguments, and an unconditional adoration for one another. 
Home videos, Tess’ narration, and Liv’s diary entries comprise a narrative that looks and sounds like so many young people. The doc plays out in two distinct halves; before and after. My Sister Liv begins with Tess telling the audience Liv’s story. The second is Tess and their mother’s emotional devastation and how the pandemic rolled into their already heavy grief, with videos of Liv replaced by videos of Tess. Then zoom discussions of Tess speaking with young people Liv’s age and mental health professionals, expressing similar feelings, coping mechanisms, causes, and statistics. 
Benson and Moorhead’s use of science is a running theme in their films. It is always clever. In SOMETHING IN THE DIRT, history and math (specifically the Pythagorean theory) are quite literally written on the walls. The quick-take editing holds your attention like a vice with a mix of home videos, documentary-style sit-down interviews, visuals of whatever topic Levi and John reference, and handheld cinematography allow the audience to teeter on the edge of doc and sci-fi narrative. This is what Benson and Moorhead do; keep you on your toes from start to finish.
The legwork done by these women is mindblowing. The all-hours phone calls, the messages, the threats, and the intimate and honest way they approached anyone connected with Miramax and The Weinstein Company. The film conveys the emotional exhaustion of it all. Story after story of similar allegations and subsequent NDAs sucker punch you, over and over. As these cases now play out in real-time, it is fascinating to witness how to reach a victim and what compels an enabler. One particular detail I found interesting was Weinstein’s obsession with whether the team had spoken to 
Carey Mulligan
Jafar Panahi travels to a border town in order to direct a movie remotely. The actors and film crew are across the border and are taking directions via Zoom. As Panahi struggles to get the film finished he becomes involved with two sets of lovers, two of the actors, and two people in the village where he is staying. Both pairs want to flee to somewhere safe, something that might not be possible
This time out Panahi has made one of his most affecting films. Forget his personal situation, this story of life in a small town and in a repressive country will leave you shattered at the end. Panahi is juggling a lot of balls in the air and manages to manipulate them perfectly. First, we have his situation which is basically hiding out in a small town to make a movie he shouldn’t be making. In showing us what it takes to make his film we see how the small minds of the village express an openness that really isn’t. there This ties into the story of one of the couples, a doomed romance Panahi captures in a photo, that everyone wants to see, but which he deletes and denies having. It seems the young woman has been promised since birth to someone she doesn’t love and that someone needs proof to hurt the girl’s true love. At the same time, the lead couple in Pahani’s film is making a film based on their lives and their efforts to flee to the West. However, the need for official documents complicates things. All of the threads end in darkness for the characters and soul-searching for the audience.
The era jokes and visual cues are kickass. Wyatt says, “Penis wrinkles,” a phrase I know from my first feature film in theaters, E.T. High five for the obscure homage. Also, the fact that I can remember the lyrics to, “Hey Girl,” days later, says a lot. 
Mark Rylance
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