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. 
Founded in 2004, Big Beach is a Los Angeles-based
One of the most surprising aspects of dementia is the unfiltered confessions of an exhausted brain. Kathy is an open book, always willing to share her innermost thoughts with Max on camera. Max is an angel in her presence. His unconditional love and relentless patience are the things we can only hope to instill in our children. And because he is the primary caretaker, he must suffer the brunt of Kathy’s sporadic disdain. 
Delving into the science behind the rise and cause of Alzheimer’s is fascinating. Food is a 
presents
THE LONG GAME puts racism at the forefront of this sports story. There’s a push and pull between their Mexican-Ametican identity and belonging. Peña encourages the boys to fit in by acclimating to white culture. Even when the boys sneak across the border, the Mexican locals give them a hard time. Joe also battles the unresolved fear of his hyper-masculine father. His own biases stunt his emotional growth. The idea of acceptance, both self and socially, is the key to the narrative.
This ensemble cast is a hole-in-one. Cheech Marin delivers a funny, heartwarming performance as course groundskeeper and inside man Pollo. He is a wonderful addition. Dennis Quaid plays Frank Mitchell, Peña’s war buddy and the only white man in town willing to act as the face and assistant coach of the team. Quaid railroads fear by normalizing every moment. There is nothing “white savior” about his performance. He is charming.
Jay Hernandez gives a complex performance as conflicted JB. His trauma often overtakes his good intentions, but his arc catalyzes change. Hernandez effortlessly holds your attention. Countering JB’s outlook, Julian Works captivates as Joe. As he gains due confidence, Works gives the role an honest vulnerability. He has fierce chemistry with Hernandez.
The upbeat, nostalgic soundtrack elevates the family-friendly feel. Super 8 footage, beautifully shot and edited milestone montages, has the same effect. THE LONG GAME remains relevant in a world where many opinions of race haven’t changed since the story’s origin. This cheer-worthy film educates and inspires. It is the real deal.
Alison Tavel sets off on a global journey to learn more about her estranged father’s mysterious invention and, ultimately, the man himself. 
Ali’s ability to disassociate makes sense. As a child of divorce when I was five years old, few memories remain. My father, like Ali’s, is still a stranger. She wrestles with differing opinions of who Don was. So many questions arise during her search. What the hell is a Resynator anyway? With all the hype surrounding its invention, why didn’t it blow up? Did depression play a part in Don’s accident? 
Danny Madden’s animation transitions are charming. We experience them alongside archival audio of Don demonstrating the Resynator. Ali utilizes a unique device in narrating the film in the form of a letter to her father, which makes more sense when a box arrives from her aunt. Her most poignant discovery comes in the form of long-lost letters from her father, found in the basement after the passing of her grandmother. 
We witness the tragic evolution of Curtis’ extended family through intimate sit-downs with family members, sharing their darkest secrets without a moment of hesitation. Their goal is equal parts redemption and cathartic confession. Some family members try harder than others, though the dark thoughts never leave. Religion lands somewhere between true belief and crutch. Mostly, the latter. 
Thoughtful closeups and the hauntingly beautiful score create heartwrenching transitions. Moyer and Toensing try to offer moments of childhood levity featuring Curtis and his siblings playing with poppers, water guns, and video games, but lurking in the background is the reality of parents severely impaired by drugs. Inheritance breaks your heart. A six-year journey down a rabbit hole of repeated histories. Is Curtis the best bet to break the cycle? One can only hope.
DIG! XX
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.
Filmmaker Henya Brodbeker turns the camera on her, her husband, and their young autistic son, Ari. Through years of filming, we witness the evolution of relationships in her Orthodox community, her marriage, and with herself. This is one family’s story about belonging. 
Anyone who follows my career as a film journalist knows I’m a Mom of a young autistic son. I talk about his diagnosis and navigating the complexities of existing in a primarily neurotypical environment. We are lucky in the grand scheme of ASD possibilities. Our son’s cognitive abilities are off the charts. He is loving, funny, friendly, and would not hurt a fly. Dealing with public meltdowns, particularly if those around you do not know or understand, can be a crushing, demoralizing, tear-filled experience. Nothing is easy. It’s undeniably isolating. It’s the outside world we fear most. THE THREE OF US is irrefutable proof of how equal opportunity changes the lives of families. 
Paul Reiser, who also writes the screenplay with Wally Marzano-Lesnevich, plays Barry. A real estate mogul from NYC, he receives a call from his distant cousin in Ireland, requesting his presence to heal a wound from generations past. The caller is Ciáran, played by Colm Meaney. The two proud, established men momentarily connect for the sake of their family. When Barry finds himself inheriting half of the family land, shenanigans ensue, dividing this small town between old and new ways.
This breezy film is perfect for the festival circuit. Jane Levy grounds the film as Barry’s daughter. While 95% of her appearances occur as phone calls from NYC, her brightness keeps Barry grounded for the viewer. Reiser is as great as ever. His big-city energy is a delicious foil for Meaney’s homegrown pride. Ciáran wavers between forgiveness and fight, and Meaney is a pro.
The landscape of the film is breathtaking. The sets are inviting. The script is heartwarming and silly. Frankly, THE PROBLEM WITH PEOPLE is a film we all need right about now. While it doesn’t break the mold, it makes you smile from beginning to end. I would easily watch a sequel of these two men navigating whatever comes next.
The cast is phenomenal. Focusing on our leading lady, Carmen Madonia, gives Renata an often aloof attitude, hiding a lost mindset. She’s soft-spoken, outwardly feeling othered by her sister’s personality. But little is said. Madonia’s face replaces any unneeded dialogue.
The film consists of informal sit-down interviews, extensive personal writings, archival footage, and plenty of home videos of the generations of strong women in the family. We discover the hurt from Hiam’s past, the emotional baggage of leaving behind the turmoil of Palestine, but also the treasured connections of the women who shaped her. Hiam’s letters and poems serve as both insight and narration. They are intensely affecting. 
Hiam and her family love one another with their whole hearts. They have no filters when speaking to each other, and their words of affirmation are something to aspire to. Lina Soualem captures all of this in an elegant edit. The film is beautifully intimate. It’s a loving commentary on memory, identity, and honoring your past.
KATIE’S MOM
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