THE PRESENT
On the eve of their parents revealing a planned separation, a brilliant boy and his two older siblings use an enchanted grandfather clock to manipulate time and get them back together. Director Christian Ditter has audiences reconnect with his latest film, THE PRESENT. This lovely film, filled with silliness and life lessons, is a must for the holiday weekend.
It takes only a few minutes to realize that Taylor’s scheme is already underway. The film’s structure rewinds the day, allowing the audience to experience the time from the viewpoint of each family member.
I must mention a couple of stand-out performances from ensemble cast members Arturo Castro, as the marriage counselor, and Ryan Guzman, Jen’s new client and ardent admirer.
Greg Kinnear and Isla Fisher play the kids’ parents. Kinnear plays it close to the chest at first. His upright, arms-length parenting persona cracks as the plot progresses. He’s a solid foil for Isla and has fantastic chemistry with the kids.
Fisher’s Jen is Taylor’s default parent. As a parent of a child on the Autism Spectrum, I immediately identified with the way she speaks to all her children, carefully choosing her words but putting her whole heart into their interactions. Jen is a fierce feminist but constantly faces misogyny from every angle. She is the heart of the film.
Mason Shea Joyce plays Max with a spirited middle-school energy. He, too, seeks attention, but from his siblings. He is a lovely spark in this trio.
Shay Rudolph gives Emma a relatable sadness between high school drama and feeling ignored as a neurotypical eldest daughter. She is a touch rebellious, but only as a mechanism for control, Rudolph is engaging. She has genuine star quality.
Easton Rocket Sweda is Taylor, a brilliant nonverbal boy who is happier tinkering in the basement than interacting with his family. Sweda delivers a grounded performance. His gentleness pours off the screen. He is a pro, anchoring the emotional truth of THE PRESENT.
The score is full of wonder. The lighting and editing are spectacular. Screenwriter Jay Martel utilizes Taylor’s Augmentative and Alternative Communication device, or AAC, to communicate with his family. Martel also involves it as a creative mechanism in the siblings’ plans. Taylor manipulates the computer’s voice option to replicate his parents and celebrities. It’s a hoot.
While the dialogue never explicitly states that he is autistic, parents of neurodivergent children will immediately recognize all of Taylor’s attributes. Sweda delicately presents the discomfort with physical touch, a genius mind, the brief appearance of stimming, and his hyper-focused nature. Visibility is everything. It moves us from awareness to acceptance.
Each new attempt by the kids is funnier and more creative than the last, but there are consequences to messing with destiny. The script delves into the ripple effects of communication on so many levels. It’s a nuanced and accessible narrative. THE PRESENT is a bit of Parent Trap, a touch of Back To The Future, and entirely family-friendly shenanigans.
The Movie Partnership is excited to announce that their new family comedy,
THE PRESENT, will be coming to UK & Irish cinemas on 24th May.
Featuring an exciting cast lead by Isla Fisher & Greg Kinnear, the film follows a young boy who discovers he can use an enchanted grandfather clock to go back in time. He teams up with his siblings on a quest to bring their separated parents back together again. Directed by award-winning filmmaker Christian Ditter (How to Be Single) and written by Emmy winner Jay Martel (Key and Peele), the film also stars Ryan Guzman (9-1-1) & Shay Rudolph (The Baby-Sitters Club).
Something is happening within the family. Every member has a secret, leaving Sally with no one but her beloved housekeeper to care for her needs. Once Magdelaina, the heart of the household, gets dragged into the chaos, Sally intrusively discovers the extent of the mess.
Kynlee Heiman 
The camera work from Mike Lobello and Paul W. Sauline is brilliant. The audience experiences the goings-on from a child’s eye level. Beautifully lit close-ups of Sally convey the emotional rollercoaster. 
The effervescent joy of being in the room fully translates from the screen. You’ll find yourself smiling until it hurts. LAUGH PROUD features multigenerational comics. The sets range from serious to hysterical. Many comics discuss childhood trauma, coming-out stories, dating, technology, patriarchal structure, aging, and everything in between. A loving and supportive energy is beaming between the performer and the audience. It is an inviting and celebratory special.
Corrine Britti gives Psychic Claire a great quirkiness. Schrack and co-writer Jordan Friedber‘s screenplay allows her to play a dual role. Her commitment is applause-worthy. Andrew Roth does a fantastic job at filling the screen with his presence. His optimism and generally ridiculous “always be selling” persona keep the film in the horror comedy subgenre. Once again, Friedberg and Schrack mix it up in the final act so Roth can show off his acting chops. 
The soundtrack is fun. A handful of sharp jump scares had my heart racing. I wish Schrack and Friedberg had leaned into Mason’s unresolved trauma earlier in the film. That emotional pull hits another level, heightening the dark threats, but I respect them for introducing a redemption arc. While the pacing is uneven, the visuals and sound editing are phenomenal. Essentially, what is good is extremely good. FOR SALE ends with one final genuine gafaw.
Founded in 2004, Big Beach is a Los Angeles-based
DIRECTED BY CAITLIN CRONENBERG
In Caitlin Cronenberg‘s HUMANE, 
Alanna Bale is an aspiring actress and the youngest family member, Ashley. Her selfishness and loose lips cause nothing but chaos. Sebastian Chacon plays Noah York, adopted son, recovering alcoholic, and piano prodigy. Chacon is sensational, bringing a humanity that stands out among the ensemble cast.
Emily Hampshire, whose film cred has exploded since the Schitt’s Creek finale, is the eldest York daughter, Rachel. She is abrasive, unfiltered, and fearless. Hampshire owns every moment of screen time. 
The set is stunning, a stone mansion with deep jewel-toned walls and carved mahogany. The use of solar-lined umbrellas in the brief periods exposed to the sun and the implementation of solar film on the windows make a massive impact. The characters each comment on the ingredients their stepmother has procured, suggesting the food chain has affected every socioeconomic corner. It is all very carefully curated, and undeniably brilliant. 
Jermaine Fowler gives an unforgettable performance as Frank, the exterminator. All eyes are on him in every scene he shows up in. Noni Hazlehurst is loveable as Charlotte’s dementia-ridden grandmother. 
Ryan Corr gives Ethan a palpable charm in his mounting frustration. Charlotte’s stepfather, the building handyman by day and graphic artist by night, the epic snowstorm outside, the needy residents inside, and a giant ass, alien spider severely harsh his mellow. 
The film boasts a sometimes curious childlike score, an absurdly upbeat soundtrack, smart-looking opening credits, and an unmissable homage to Alien and Terminator. Our titular character is a creative wonder. Sting is something you have to see to appreciate. It is magnificent. Thank you, WĒTĀ Workshops. 
Dupieux is a master of providing comedy within social commentary. As Yannick becomes more agitated, he reveals how out of touch he is with general society while simultaneously hurling offensive barbs at his captives. Equal parts hilarious and terrifying, all I could imagine as an actor and theatre patron was how I might escape such a scenario.
The honest laughs come when Dupieux leans fully into the meta satire in new dialogue written by Yannick. Filled with redundancies and mistakes, the audience in the theatre and at home belly laugh at the actors’ forced commitment.
Jessie Buckley is flawless as a foul-mouthed immigrant single mother, Rose Gooding. Buckley’s fierce spirit proves perfection for the role. She and Colman share a delicious chemistry, and I beg the industry to pair them together in future projects.
A massive thank you to screenwriter Jonny Sweet and director Thea Sharrock for gifting audiences with a dazzling story about complex, fearless women. The script is a creative commentary on repression, patriarchal rule, female friendship, and freedom of expression. You’ll be doubled over with laughter at the ceaselessly imaginative insults in the letters. The unadulterated glee in hearing these words feels naughty in a rather freeing and celebratory way. WICKED LITTLE LETTERS is the best fucking film of the year.
Filmmaker Kailee McGee shares snapshots of her innermost thoughts on her journey with breast cancer. Tongue in cheek, manic, clever, stream of consciousness, unfiltered, and hilariously meta, CAN feels revelatory. It is celebratory irreverence. McGee makes her situation relatable and palpable. She is raw and funny as hell. I would 1000% watch a feature-length version. It has that “it” factor, and McGee owns every bit of its magic.
Authentically hilarious, audiences get to know Nellie through a series of sexual romps, engagement parties, weddings, baby showers, and pregnancy panic stories. The inundation of opinions and horror stories sounds familiar to me. I got pregnant at 35 and 36, so, naturally, I was deemed a “geriatric.” The combination of rage and fear was no joke. Leah McKendrick nails the ups and downs of that stage of life. It’s an existential crisis that you only truly understand if you’ve experienced it firsthand.
Mort and Michelle’s dynamic feels incredibly forced. The dialogue is a bizarre mix of awkward bad jokes and deeply personal romantic words. It is a baffling mix. The story is a mess, and there are innumerable superfluous scenes. The pace is glacial. At an hour and fifty-six minutes, this could have been eighty minutes at the most. 
The most successful aspect of the film is Eric Roberts‘ soothing narration, but there are too many inconsistencies for the final twist to go down smoothly. This is one of those times where a flashback montage of all the clues would greatly benefit the film.
George Basil plays Dave, the construction foreman, with a life-affirming kindness. One of his lines perfectly sums up the film’s heart, hitting you square in the chest, “We’re just friends walking each other home.” Hollowell is outstanding as Gloria. Her comic timing is the stuff of the gods, but she also delivers authentic depth. She is a star.
Kate Jean Hollowell is a multi-hyphenate director, comedian and musician, who honed her humor, storytelling and visual style by making her own music videos, showcased at SXSW in 2022 and 2023, as well as her short film Are They Smiling?, which premiered at the 2020 Portland Film Festival and won several awards. Taking on narrative, Kate has managed to find a unique voice that balances humor and heart through all her work. Finding ways to insert unexpected musical numbers in everything she does is a trademark all her own.
DIG! XX
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Coming home for the holidays is always wrought with complex emotions. Directors Caroline Keene and Dan Kennedy give audiences much to ponder in MERRY GOOD ENOUGH. A film about familial chaos across generations, this enjoyable small-town film is sure to strike a chord this holiday season.
Joel Murray is George, the absent but immensely excitable father figure. Writer-director Caroline Keene drops early hints of his toxic masculinity, and Murray eases into the skin of a pretty loathsome man. Daniel Desmarais plays Tim. His sardonic wit meshes perfectly with this cast of fantastic misfits. Comfort Clinton is Cynthia. She is uptight and controlling. Clinton owns the role with her evident daddy issues and needs for approval. 
Sawyer Spielberg is charming as neighbor Sam. His chemistry with Levine is magic, which makes sense since they’ve been married since 2018. Susan Gallagher‘s performance is spectacular. Keene’s script nails the mother of adult children vibe with running errands, asking if we’ve eaten, awkwardly using technology, grabbing coffee, and the overly stocked fridge. Gallagher captivates with her vulnerability. Raye Levine gives Lucy a tangible relatability. She’s funny, a little lost, and yet entirely grounded.
At the heart of MERRY GOOD ENOUGH, this script delves into unresolved childhood trauma, emotional isolation, mental health, and forgiveness. It’s a breezy watch about finding bliss and connection in the imperfect.
DON’T SUCK follows a washed-up headliner and the newbie he agrees to mentor, who just so happens to be a vampire.
Jamie Kennedy
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