I ONLY REST IN THE STORM
Pedro Pinho‘s sophomore film, I ONLY REST IN THE STORM, premiered for NYFF audiences yesterday. The film follows Sergio, an environmental engineer who drives from his homeland, Portugal, to Guinea-Bissau, West Africa, to work on a recently halted project. Tasked with reporting whether building a road from the desert to the jungle would be profitable or even plausible, he tries his best to ingratiate himself with the locals, to mixed reactions. 
Portugal-born, Brazil-based filmmaker Pedro Pinho tackles racism in an unfiltered, confrontational manner. The dialogue is no-holds-bar and yet entirely calm in its honesty. Alongside Sergio, the audience is thrust into a lively group of queer friends, who argue among their own ranks about blackness and identity. It feels very intimate to witness. It’s a head-on white savior complex reckoning. The longer you watch and learn, white behavior feels very self-congratulatory, regardless of true intentions. 
Performances are spectacular. The immersive cinematography is a character all its own. The film often feels like a documentary with elders casually dropping facts about colonialism in social settings. I ONLY REST IN THE STORM captures you in its boldness, if you can hold on for the three and a half hour runtime. While it would undoubtedly benefit to cut that time in half, you cannot deny the meandering plot points. Each is strong, but as a whole, the film is a five-course gluttonous meal. 
Before we were married, my husband and I abandoned our lives in New York and moved to Hyderabad, India, so that he could work for a local microfinance institution. He and I, both white, served more as a spectacle, fully owning our privilege as we navigated endlessly intrusive questions and the knowledge of our ability to leave the city on our own accord. To be the minority was an eye-opening experience. I ONLY REST IN THE STORM plays for a predominantly white NYFF audience. I would have loved to be a fly on the wall after yesterday’s premiere. One can only imagine the justifications over cocktails.
SCARED SHITLESS
Chelsea Clark (
Daniel Doheny plays Sonny with perfect manic energy. He is one panic attack away from implosion. Doheny handily glides through Sonny’s arch as the gross factor increases. He nails this genre. Steven Ogg (
Steven Kostanski serves as both Executive Producer and FX goo god. The amount of physical ick in the film should come as no surprise to fans of Kostanski’s work. 
SHE LOVED BLOSSOMS MORE
The boys flitter between trials, doing whatever drugs they can procure, speaking with utter nonchalance about their intentions. Hedgehog, clearly consumed by sadness, eagerly claws his way towards his ultimate goal. Obsession takes hold.
Cinematographer Christos Karamanis brings the viewer inside their drug trips, of which there are many, blurring the lines of reality. Fair warning: if you are sensitive to light or sound, the film can be overwhelming, but inarguably hypnotic. Performances, particularly Panos Papadopoulos, are fantastic.
Sci-fi extravagance aside, Veslemes takes audiences on a visceral and emotional ride into darkness. There is no denying SHE LOVED BLOSSOMS MORE is a WTF, jaw-dropping watch.
COYOTES
Brittany Allen plays sex worker Julie. Her ability to steal scenes is magic. 
This is essentially an ensemble survival horror. The CGI coyotes are a bit Twilight-y, but the practical FX are legit. The kills are super creative, and one is particularly gnarly and incredibly satisfying for genre fans. Scott’s occupation is a graphic novel artist. Director Colin 
Few films have been able to pull off the one-shot feat. SCURRY owns it. Here is a team that has total trust, impeccable timing, and chemistry between the cast and crew, leading to cinematic magic. The element of enveloping darkness, a small, unpredictable light source, and the blurry infrared of a camcorder create relentless dread.
Jamie Costa and Emalia (
Best Picture: CAMP, directed by Avalon Fast
FANTASTIC PITCHES 
The Hairbrained Salon’s owner is a bawdy broad named Laverne. Martini Bear is one hell of a force, slinging f-bombs on top of the already kitschy, 60s-inspired dialogue. John Waters and Mario Bava are all over this film; think 
The costumes, hair, and makeup are spectacular. The vivacious colors and sparkles pop on the 35mm film. The hyper-augmented sound editing will make you cringe. The script cleverly weaves in menstruation shame, medical gaslighting, and consent, while also playing into the adage that a period is a monthly curse. The ending is perfection. THE CRAMPS: A Period Piece has midnight madness cult classic written all over it. 
Zahra asserts herself as a savior in Noor’s life, flattering her, consoling her, and even intimidating her school bullies. But quickly, Zahra pushes boundaries. Noor’s hobby is photography, specifically of dead animals. Zahra talks her into a picture no one should take. While Amani flails to piece the ensuing madness together, Noor falls back on Zahra’s sway. THE VILE comes to a head as a simple birthday celebration brings darkness to the entire family.
Bdoor Mohammad creates a tangible desperation as Amani. You will easily root for her, particularly when it comes to the emotional dynamics between her and her husband. His oppressive hand will likely infuriate the audience, but it is clear Al Ansari did his research. Mohammad captivates at every turn.
This heartwarming doc has some amazing personalities. Audrey is Sound. Her infectious wonder is the epitome of SILVER SCREAMERS. David is Special Effects. With his puppeteering skills, the film’s villain comes alive. Diane is in charge of Makeup. Her theatre background is key to her role. Sonny is the Camera Operator. He is reactivating the dreams of his youth.
The team takes on their jobs with a refreshing enthusiasm. Watching each one tackle their assignments is like a boot camp into the complexities of filmmaking. Editor Lee Walker delivers an incredibly engaging montage of their initial endeavors. The opening credits are integrated into the film’s storyboards. It’s a brilliant device.
SILVER SCREAMERS acts as an advocacy pitch for art therapy at every age. Wait until you hear the ADR session. It’s a riot. The horror homage final scene is the cherry on top. Fantastic Fest audiences are in for a real treat.
Parts Two & Three: now wandering the land, the animals in tow, Gaspar’s existential crisis continues as he meets spirits, resides in a manor, converses with religious icons, all while Ogre and his minion pursue him. The film is A LOT. Green continues his signature style with static cameras capturing 4th wall-breaking deadpan delivery. Honestly, it will either be a winner for audiences or a total miss. The complexity of satire is laugh-out-loud funny, but outside intellectual circles, it might be a tough pill to swallow.
HAPPYEND
This predominantly young cast is incredible. Yukito Hidaka is captivating as Kou. His brooding aura and genuine wonder are the perfect foil for Hayato Kurihara‘s intense Yuta. Each actor wears their heart on their sleeve.
Based in part on her 2017 film BIRTH OF A FAMILY, Tasha Hubbard brings her scripted narrative debut to TIFF 50. MEADOWLARKS stars Michael Greyeyes, Carmen Moore, Alex Rice, and Michelle Thrush as four Cree siblings who were separated by the Sixties Scoop, who are meeting for the first time as adults.
Performances are fantastic. Each character is incredibly nuanced. Four siblings with varying goals for the trip and vastly different personalities. But what links them is far deeper than the ways in which they were raised by white families.
For more TIFF coverage, 
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As he prepares to self-fund his hefty two-act drama with his theatre “besties,” Griffin’s theatrical passion is further fueled by a tumultuous homelife. Colia delivers a truly tangible script. Griffin’s mom seems overwhelmed with her go-getter and rather demanding son, but under the surface, something else is simmering. She hires a neighbor’s son to help with yard cleanup. What begins as an annoyance to Griffin transforms into a sexual awakening, a test of relationships, and a piece of art that mirrors his unresolved trauma.
Owen Teague plays Brad with an initial aloofness that perfectly contrasts Griffin’s overzealous nature. As Teague taps into Brad’s motivation, *no pun intended,* the performance captivates in an entirely unexpected way. Everett Blunck is a star. His portrayal of Griffin feels like a documentary rather than a performance. It is one well beyond his years. He exudes fierce confidence that is infectious. Teague and Blunck have magnetic chemistry. Colia skillfully creates a subtle doppleganger effect between the two. It is an incredibly nuanced balance of characterization and performance.
Colia cleverly speaks to art as catharsis, the plight of a tortured artist, and the meaning of authentic friendship. Existing between childhood and adulthood is wrought with emotional chaos, impossible questions, self-loathing, fear, and awkwardness. GRIFFIN IN SUMMER playfully touches on each of these with unfiltered heart and humor.
A father wishes to compliment the chef for his signature dish, only to discover that an actual shrimp is responsible for the deliciousness. In this mockumentary-style short, The Shrimp insinuates that his entire schtick was stolen by the Disney rat. The two then compete on a food competition reality show. The producers secretly chat with the man under The Shrimp, Chef Dave. Shrimp is a foul-mouthed asshole, for lack of a better word. Shenanigans ensue, confessions reveal themselves, and insults fly.
There are multiple Shrimp puppet creations. The smaller version sits on Yung’s head, and a larger-scale handheld puppet fills the screen for the sit-down interviews. The detail is award-worthy. Puppeteers Benjamin Fieschi-Rose, Kirsten Brass, and Amelia Blaine are spectacular.
For all things Fantasia, 
Evy sits in front of a blurred open doorway as she listens. This trope alone keeps your heart in your throat. Graham Beasley‘s overall framing is jarring as hell. Darkness plays an important role. Beasley rarely places Evy in the center of the frame and uses odd angles and stationary camera pans to keep you off balance in every way. It almost suggests the camera is haunted.
Don’t get ahead of yourself in viewing. ANYTHING THAT MOVES is far more than a high-concept soft porn. I mean, it is also that. The cast fearlessly embraces full frontal nudity, which is incredibly rare for male actors, but more importantly, it honors kink. Audiences will not expect the hidden trauma. Phillips also addresses the demoralization of sex workers.
Shot in Super 16mm, its gritty look completes the homage to 1970s adult films. The Joshua Rains‘s artwork is diabolically genius. The bright spotlight device that denotes an orgasm is brilliant. Casting Nina Hartley and Ginger Lynn Allen was a superior move, as the two essentially served as the film’s intimacy coordinators. By the way, can we acknowledge the importance of that role on a set? I am thrilled we’re adding a Stunt category to next year’s awards season, but Intimacy Coordination is also an art.
Liz Atwater deserves applause for her role, but for the sake of the journey, I won’t say anything more. Todd Terry gives Clive a notable balance of paranoia and fear. It has a solid 10 Cloverfield vibe, with Terry playing the John Goodman role, a would-be savior with perhaps ulterior motives. The audience goes on a rollercoaster of emotions with Terry.
Production design is incredibly detailed inside the trailer. The soundtrack is fantastic. Handheld camerawork from Andrew Duensing is thrilling. It is Bodell’s script that holds you captive. Lena’s relationship with grief becomes an unexpected emotional stronghold. Genre aside, the film comes from a place of transformation and new beginnings.
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