P.S. Burn This Letter Please
A box of letters, held in secret for nearly 60 years, ignites a 5-year exploration into a part of LGBT history that has never been told. The letters, written in the 1950s by a group of New York City drag queens, open a window into a forgotten world where being yourself meant breaking the law and where the penalties for “masquerading” as a woman were swift and severe. Using original interviews, never-before-seen archival footage and photographs and stylized recreations, P.S. BURN THIS LETTER PLEASE reconstructs this pre-Stonewall era as Lennie, Robbie, George, Michael, Jim, Henry, Claude, Tish, and Terry—former drag queens now in their 80s and 90s—reveal how they survived and somehow flourished at a time when drag queens were both revered and reviled, even within the gay community. The government sought to destroy them, then history tried to erase them, now they get to tell their story for the first time.
There’s something both nostalgic and tangible about handwritten letters. With technology at our fingertips, they are few and far between and nearly nonexistent to certain generations. In P. S. Burn This Letter Please, a box of letters from the 50s chronicles the lives of a small LGBTQ circle of friends. Through sit-down interviews with the authors, immaculate archival footage and photos, we delve into history. This documentary is phenomenally compelling. If it doesn’t make you grin from ear to ear, you’re out of your mind.
Happiness isn’t the only reaction this film elicits. It is a lesson in oppression, one that sounds all too familiar. We hear about biological family dynamics, the difference between those who accepted and those who broke these beautiful souls down. The majority of the doc is celebratory and juicy. Oh honey, the exquisite fashion. The delicious stories. Hearing the truth from those who lived it is priceless.
I learned an entirely new vocabulary. I learned about the “who’s who” of drag and female impersonators in those years. What was it like to be a performer? Who was actually running the gay clubs? That answer will shock you. To say I was fascinated would be an understatement. The dramatic readings of the letters are to die for. To think what wasn’t included in the film leaves me wanting more. Outside of its Tribeca Festival screening, you can watch P.S. Burn This Letter Please streaming on Discovery +. You will not regret jumping into its fabulousness.
Take Me Somewhere Nice
TRIBECA 2021
Romania’s hit film Two Lottery Tickets is the most enjoyable buffoonery you can think of. In his second feature, writer/director Paul Negoescu takes a story from writer Ion Luca Caragiale and sends us on a €6 million fool’s errand. Local pushover Dinel’s wife fled to Italy with her boss two years ago. He is depressed and going broke trying to raise enough money to bring her back home. Drinking buddy Sile, a womanizing gambler, convinces him to spend his last few euros on a lotto ticket. Against all logic, Dinel’s idiotic chosen numbers end up being the winner. After two thugs steal his bum bag with the ticket inside, Dinel, Sile, and local conspiracy theorist Pompiliu must follow the clues by annoying neighbors, evading the police, and generally being ridiculous. It’s the sincerity of these three men simply being themselves that makes Two Lottery Tickets both loveable and hilarious. Actors Dorian Boguță, Dragoș Bucur, and Alexandru Papadopol all deliver lines in a way that makes you smirk and cringe. This is a film that has such comic ease to it. Once in a while, you come across a film that is like a cinematic hygge (because that’s a thing I just made up but you totally know what I mean, so whatever). Two Lottery Tickets has all the makings of that film you want to tell your friends about. Negoescu and cast have given viewers such relatable characters. In fact, if you watch it in a group setting, someone in the room is probably a Dinel, a Sile, or a Pompiliu. It is truly that delightful.
While the action revolves around the accident, these characters are fully fleshed-out people we recognize. The remarkable performances in SILO might even suggest that this film was a documentary and not a narrative. The cast has a chemistry that genuine. It’s astounding. You won’t have a moment to breathe once things go awry. Even within a 76-minute runtime, the writing is so great that we have enough backstory for every person on the scene to feel the emotional pull. We understand why they’re there and how they’re connected. SILO doesn’t simply address farming safety but gives us a compelling drama about small-town dynamics. It is impossible to watch this and not be consumed by the relationships in this film. That’s what happens when you have the perfect storm of acting, writing, and directing. This is a film that will resonate with a massive audience, regardless of their background. It sheds a light on a culture that is often taken for granted and the very real dangers of farming. SILO is a harrowing film about safety and an undeniably important watch.
What I loved about this film was watching the tenacity of a woman pushed past the breaking point. Using wit and pure gumption, Inga helps a community that’s being taken advantage of. Arndís Hrönn Egilsdóttir‘s performance is out of this world. She is funny, powerful, gutsy, and yet completely vulnerable and grounded. The film doesn’t simply rely on the natural cinematic landscape but smartly uses its scope to tell this story. The script has a beautiful flow to it. 
Up close, hand-held camera work intensifies the manic energy that radiates from this cast. This tragic and explosive story stems from a hit-and-run. With the world in upheaval over police action, this film focuses on the reactions of a small town department. When the mysterious driver flees on foot, chaos reigns when the incident becomes personal. The performances are astonishing. The screenplay is genius. You’re getting multiple narrative stories by watching the reactions of family, coworkers, and onlookers all at once. A naive rookie, a Chief close to retirement, hooligans in the crowd, a female officer’s first day, those connected to the victims, and a villain so loathsome your head will spin. These characters simultaneously clash in Supernova as events play out in real-time. There is not a moment to breathe. The quietest moment is the opening shot. Once the actors enter the frame the energy ramps up and become increasingly intense. Writer-director Bartosz Kruhlik plays with empathy and power dynamics in such an intelligent way. The complexity of the story just keeps growing. Your heart will race, you’ll seethe with anger, Supernova is that good.
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Simply beautiful cinematography and one hell of a leading performance consume the audience in BAM’s Kino Polska’s New York premiere of NEVER GONNA SNOW AGAIN. Alec Utgoff as Zhenia gives an intoxicating performance. There’s something about his gaze that puts you at ease. You’re fully aware there’s a complexity tied to his childhood in Chernobyl. The dialogue from his clients never lets you forget. The nuance of this role is enthralling. The darker mystery slowly makes its way to light as he does his massage and, unbeknownst to them, hypnosis on his clients. They reside in a wealthy, gated estate outside the city. From the outside, each house essentially a replica of the next. Inside, the residents gossip and confess their trauma and innermost thoughts. Sinister undertones always linger. Zhenia’s unique ability to connect with people is merely the beginning of his capabilities. That talent isn’t something that can be hidden indefinitely. The score is haunting and meaningful, heightening this carefully crafted film. Trust me when I say, this movie is special. You’ll be as hypnotized as Zhenia’s clients. NEVER GONNA SNOW AGAIN is bursting with endless intrigue. It’s a journey that you will never see coming.
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The 110% commitment to the absolute absurd is what makes Keep An Eye Out (Au Poste!) so phenomenal. It has an authentic Monty Python level of rapid-fire, totally ridiculous tone to the dialogue. You’re just smirking the entire time. Whatever these guys were selling I was buying. I gutturally laughed out through the entire 73-minute run. Also, can we please normalize these kinds of runtimes? Great, concise storytelling. I’m here for it.
Chief Inspector played by Benoît Poelvoorde is a real prick but in the best way possible. The perfect foil for Ludig. He isn’t really listening to anyone and meanders between genius and complete moron. His presence is commanding. Grégoire Ludig plays the completely unsuspecting Fugain. His character goes on the journey of a lifetime. Ludig is the “straight man” of the cast, which isn’t saying much. In an American version, he’d be played by Paul Rudd; genuine comic timing in an everyman sort of way. His charming panic becomes our panic. It’s a true testament not only to his talents but the magnificent script. The nonchalance of the entire thing will floor you. Enter Philippe, the underling assigned to watch Fugain when the Chief is called away. Actor Marc Fraize was honestly my favorite thing about the entire film. I wanted to put him in my pocket and take him with me. His loveable, quirky oaf delivery was something unto itself. He really completed the circle of greatness for me, personally.
The storytelling style is a mix of interrogation and creative recreations of Fugain’s official statement. All while attempting to hide another matter in plain sight. The cinematography is beautiful; something akin to a Wes Anderson film with its very distinct color palette. The visual gags are to die for. You will not know which end is up. It’s dizzying and meta, and once it takes off it doesn’t let up for a minute. It’s like watching a tennis match of wit and weirdness. I could not recommend KEEP AN EYE OUT more.
The story revolves around the disappearance of an extraordinary woman named Amra. She was a pilot, a leader of the town’s Pentecostal church “Fire Bones”, and a local legend that everyone knew… or so they thought. We follow Greg and Bart’s search for answers as accusations fly and information slowly comes to light in this unusual town filled with eccentric residents. The commitment to this unique format by this cast is magic. It’s weird and wonderful and I guarantee you have never seen or heard anything like it. Each clue gets better and better. Two standouts from the first half of this journey are Chapter 4: Clue #13 – Trainbow – Poetric dialogue set against breathtaking swamp and train imagery. And Chapter 5, Clue #15 Sign of the Times – A hilarious song with a tongue-in-cheek take on church board messaging.
If the pandemic had never happened, this could have easily been one of the most popular in-person attractions in immersive theatre history. If you’ve ever experienced a show like Sleep No More, which is an intense, live walkthrough of Macbeth in which the scenes play out from room to room as the audience wears masks and is encouraged to interact with the cast, you’d understand what I mean. FIRE BONES could easily adopt this presentation. It could be a permanent exhibit at MoMA. In our current circumstances, it’s a fun thing to do with family members. Fare warning, if you are listening with younger ears, there is a bit of profanity from time to time. While it is ultimately 4 1/2 hrs of content, you easily breeze from one piece to the next. The audio style wavers between true crime and radio drama. The videos are stunning to look at. Sharply shot and puzzling in content, you cannot help but we swept up in the mystery. Because each chapter is short, you never have time to get distracted. And because the format changes, you’re constantly engaged. FIRE BONES has massive expansion potential, but in its current form is undeniably entertaining. In an unpredictable world, some predictable fun is welcome.
There is no female equivalent for the phrase “Ballsy”. What would that even look like? Lippy? I BLAME SOCIETY is extra lippy. Starring as a version of herself, filmmaker Gillian Wallace Horvat says all the quiet parts out loud. Then she acts on them just to make a point. And goddamnit, virtual high five from me. This script is unapologetic, bold, and genuinely hilarious. It’s the “die for your art” meets “tell me I can’t and see what happens” mashup I didn’t know I wanted. Highlighting the ridiculously misogynistic side of the industry in the smartest ways. When the phrases, “This is a really big opportunity for you!” “You’re like the female him!” “We need an ally on your side!” I died laughing and I died inside. But the film also tackles social media, communication, and ambition all inside a twisted presentation of Dexter-esque mayhem.
The pace leading to murderous activities works so well to build up a tense WTF feeling. It’s just so imaginative and absolutely terrifying. You get to a point where you stop thinking it’s funny and start genuinely worrying about everyone she encounters. Wallace Horvat is awesome. I wanna hang out with her in real-life and make fun of everything that she makes fun of in this film. She knows exactly what she’s doing even as she leads you to believe otherwise. She has an overtly narcissistic sociopath nuance to “Gillian” and nothing short of that would have worked as well. When she references makeover sequences, I laughed out loud and then immediately gasped exclaiming, “Holy Shit! That’s her actual hair!” When you see it you’ll fully understand.
The DIY look of the camerawork makes it even more relatable, especially after last week’s Twitter battle claiming “you can’t make a film with just an iPhone.” I BLAME SOCIETY is a giant middle finger to still male-dominated and faux #MeToo accountability in Hollywood. And not just the film industry. I’ve been on the other end of these conversations, yes in writing rooms and screening rooms, but also retail jobs, teaching jobs, do I need to go on? Even outside that theme, I BLAME SOCIETY is for every single person obsessed with true crime yelling at the TV, “The Husband did it,” or “You know what I would have done…” We get to sit back, relax, and watch someone else live out our darkest fantasies and that’s satisfying and entertaining.
Every once in a blue moon a film comes along that pushes you past your own emotional boundaries. The heaviness of the stories in Identifying Features swallows you whole. You are forced to confront the realities that are far too often swept under the political rug here in the US and are dreaded in Mexico. With a score that vibrates your already unsettled soul, the handheld cinematography puts you in the shoes of any one of these individuals getting shoved back across the border… And those who don’t ever make it. The alternating scenes from a mother to a son build up a visceral tension to an ending that is beyond shocking. The intimacy of the sound editing and long lingering beautifully shot close-ups force you to remain engaged no matter how badly you’d like to look away. Identifying Features is brilliant in its unyielding honesty. You will sink so far into the depths of these families’ grief, digging out will take more time than you’ll realize. It’s nothing short of captivating.
Mary and her father survive by the clock. They thrive in routine. Cole is the opposite. He’s chatty, vivacious, and a traveler. Mary feels bound by the obligation to care for her father. She’s never allowed herself to grow. The anxiety that is palpable on Mary’s face is something I know all too well. Then this burst of energy comes barreling into their lives and it the best medicine they could have ever happened upon. Cole challenges everything she’s come to rely on. But she is not the only one who needs awakening.
Beautifully scored, with sharp and glorious cinematography, The Wake of Light is like nothing I expected to see. There is something about the intimacy of the handheld style that feels like the viewer is just out of frame. Boasting stunning and meaningful close-ups. alongside the slightly heightened audio, there is a familiarity that feels lived in.
The screenplay is so charming you will lose yourself in the genuine connection between two strangers. The rhythm of their dialogue is lovely and grounded. Performances are outstanding. Rome Brooks as Mary has the most intentional beats. Her emotional journey is written on her face. There is a complexity that sneaks up on you. Matt Bush as Cole is an open book, as well. Behind his manic but infectious energy is loneliness as thick as Mary’s. He nails this role with shades of unexpected nuance. William Morton as Mary’s father is wonderful. His ability to communicate without dialogue is hypnotic. The chemistry between all three actors is beautiful to watch. Writer/director Renji Phillip has given audiences a special film. It encompasses fear, regret, human connection, and finding peace. It’s an enchanting, must-see.
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