THE BECOMERS

THE BECOMERS follows two intergalactic lovers escaping their dying planet. Each lost on Earth, calling the other, and body snatching to blend into the human race. Filmmaker Zach Clark cleverly utilizes aliens as observers to tackle the complexity of human behavior. THE BECOMERS effortlessly joins the catalog of his previous quirky, indie gems. Each new beat gets weirder, and it is impossible to predict.
THE BECOMERS is bold, eschewing any societal norms. Have you ever seen an alien sex scene? Because you’re about to, and it is gooey. Russell Marl voices their backstory with a particular tone that perfectly encapsulates the film’s feel. Fritz Myers’ score is jarring and yet works perfectly. Myers also creates unique Alien vocalizations. The editing is delightful.
The performances from every cast member are spectacular. Karla Monay Shaw brings it home at the governor’s housekeeper, Femmy. Although her appearance is brief, she shows her acting chop. Keith Kelly delivers two distinct versions of Governor Olatka. Clark allows him to showcase quite the emotional rollercoaster.
Isabel Alamin gives Francesca a tentative fear. She’s incredibly compelling. Molly Plunk and Mike Lopez‘s turns as couple Carol and Gordon. Their trust in Clark’s vision is evident. Plunk and Gordon embody the seemingly wacky premise and capture the sincerest longings within the slapstick comedy.
The longer I sat with THE BECOMERS, the more I realized that humanity’s behavior was far more disturbing than any alien display. It was a startling come to Jesus moment. Clark leans into what appears absurd until you conclude that it is merely a fanciful mirror of our hopes, dreams, irrationality, and means of survival. Don’t get me wrong. The camp and over-the-top scenarios solidly place the film in a sci-fi comedy genre, but underneath all the shenanigans is authentic heart.

CLOSE TO YOU
CLOSE TO YOU
CLOSE TO YOU


Augmented color choices in STRANGE DARLING give the film a devilish and addicting quality. The score is grating and decidedly ominous- A genuine compliment. The lighting is simply delicious. The soundtrack is fire, as the kids say.
Fitzgerald and Gallner’s chemistry is sick. There is an undeniable electricity between them, and it’s like watching a a sexy car crash happen in real time. The plot is spectacularly unpredictable. Don’t bother guessing from moment to moment, even though Mollner’s script hypes you up to do so. The sheer number of “Oh Shit” moments! Slow clap, sir.
Filmmaker Patrick Dickinson brings audiences a nuanced tale of loss and love in COTTONTAIL. Following the death of his wife, Kenzaburo travels with his son and his young family to fulfill his late wife’s last wish, to scatter her ashes at Lake Windemere in England. The film flashes back in time, giving us intimate details of the love story between Kenzaburo and Akiko.
Tae Kimura gives an award-worthy performance as Akiko. The depth is mesmerizing. You will remember it. Lily Franky delivers a stunning complexity in Kenzaburo. Dickinson skillfully draws out the rift between him and his son Toshi (a fantastic Ryo Nishikido). The built-up guilt and regret flow off the screen as Franky moves from scene to scene. So, too, does the fierce adoration for his wife.
Dickinson places the audience in a precarious emotional state once we witness the hardships of Akiko’s progressing condition and Kenzaburo’s increasing frustrations with losing the wife he vowed to love through thick and thin. The discussion of the impact of acting as a primary caregiver hangs above the film like a dark cloud, allowing the redemption narrative to hold your heart. COTTONTAIL is about the individuality of grief, keeping secrets, and human connection. It is an undeniably beautiful and affecting film.
Starring Academy Award® Nominee 
TIM TRAVERS AND THE TIME TRAVELER’S PARADOX
Stimson Snead takes us on a comedy of trial and error in DWF: LA sci-fi feature TIM TRAVERS AND THE TIME TRAVELER’S PARADOX. This film is a story of a mad genius’s guide to what if, get ready to have your mind blown.
Samuel Dunning is Tim Travers. He is funny, charming, and owns this role. Travers is stubborn as hell and honest to a fault. The character has authentic mad scientist vibes. The number of alternative death scenes and distinctly unique versions of the same character is Multiplicity on crack. Dunning eats it up.
Director Shannon Walsh shares the extraordinary love story between an artist and his larger-than-life wife. SXSW 2024 audiences discover the legacy of Adrianne and Alan St. George. This documentary is a tale of adoration, art, and Adrianne.
Herein lies the challenge for Alan and Shannon. How do you do justice to such a love story? Experimental musical interludes, Adrianne’s Doll Room, quirky home movies, and the ever-expanding house that grows like a whimsical version of The Winchester House. The mansion is an explosion of color, lavish draping fabrics, sculptures, and murals, all featuring Adrianne and Alan’s likenesses. It is Versailles meets Grimm’s Fairytales, each room mirroring a slice of her exuberant persona. She was and remains Alan’s muse for all things. 

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.
Various animation styles change from scene to scene, from hand-drawn to greenscreen, live-action to stop motion layer and mesmerize, forcing the audience to sit up and pay attention. QUANTUM COWBOYS‘ narrative timeline loops and shifts to give our protagonists a chance at redemption. Butterfly effects cling to each of them as “Memory” plays the storyteller and provides second chances disguised as a mysterious stone arc. This clever device keeps the audience enthralled, wondering how this might end.
The cast boasts faces familiar and iconic. Kiowa Gordon and John Way shine alongside David Arquette and Lily Gladstone ( a near-future Oscar winner IMHO). This one-of-a-kind film will undoubtedly delight with its wacky and meta climax. QUANTUM COWBOYS is an ambitious film that, while currently planned as a trilogy, could easily transition to a series at a major studio. Marslett gives audiences a choose-your-own-adventure-style story whose possibilities are endless.



Joëlle Haddad-Champeyroux plays innumerable ancillary characters. It is a fantastic running joke. Thomas Vieljeux gives Thibaut a melancholy and wounded self-esteem that suits the narrative. It also places Claire in an unexpected hero role.
Lizzie Kehoe is hilarious as Claire. She’s the quirky yet emotionally stunted girl who is genuinely charming. Her giddy exuberance is infectious. Kehoe gives it her all as we wade through an increasingly complex coming-of-age story.
The film’s only fault is perhaps its length. It could use a trim on some of the lingering shots. On the other hand, the story would benefit from being fleshed out and turned into a miniseries. I think the characters earn backstories and an even deeper emotional investment. GOODBYE, PETRUSHKA would make an accessible YA series. Writer-director Nicola Rose covers a lot of ground in an hour and forty minutes. Hidden beneath a classic meets modern fairytale structure lies political commentary, gender dynamics, emotional manipulation, and celebrated individuality. GOODBYE, PETRUSHKA has solid development potential. Rose has a voice, and there is an undoubtedly hungry audience for what she’s serving.
Eva takes over as a Foley artist for her hospitalized sibling Zara. With no knowledge or self-esteem for the task, Eva endures shockingly abusive behavior from every angle; Zara, her boss, and the hospital nurse. When threatened with dismissal from Zara’s position, she becomes obsessed with the assigned commercial clip.
PIAFFE gives audiences a fever dream of imagery and sound. Music is an eclectic Giallo-inspired mix of ominous cello and techno. The color Red features symbolically in lipstick, a telephone, tinsel, roses, and lighting. Simone Bucio is fearless as Eva. Her palpable anxiety and social awkwardness pour off the screen, making her relatable in the most unexpected ways.


Luke Evans plays Nicky with a workhorse attitude that comes off as dismissive and arrogant against Billy Porter’s caregiver grace. This dynamic rings authentic for me as the default parent in my marriage. Porter nails every aspect, from his sing-songy tone of voice with Owen to the hesitancy to speak up for his emotional needs. Seeing myself on screen hit hard. While I’ve not had to go through divorce and custody dynamics, I have had these “come to Jesus” moments with my husband. I’ve been lucky.
Directed by: Steve Buscemi











Shazad Latif, as Kaz, has a quiet confidence that draws you in from the beginning. He possesses something special that makes the audience feel safe around him. Anyone would be lucky to have Kaz as a member of their family. Lily James plays Zoe with ambition, smarts, and girl-next-door sass. This character’s depth, flaws, and strengths equally embraced make the film thoroughly relatable. Dating is complicated, especially now. James embodies the modern-day woman and brings an elegance to Zoe that captures the audience immediately. Latif and James have a chemistry that feels earned.
The End of Sex tells the story of a married couple (Hampshire and Chernick) who are feeling the pressures of parenting and adulthood. After they send their young kids to camp for the first time, they embark on a series of comic sexual adventures to reinvigorate their relationship.
Lily Gao
The script nails the unfiltered complexities of adult relationships, particularly co-parenting and the ebb and flow of physical attraction. It centers on communication and the dangers of giving up on ourselves to mollify our partners. Relationships are rarely 50/50. THE END OF SEX goes there and sometimes falls off the edge in the best way possible.
The quirky and overtly sexualized visuals on signs throughout the film become an over-the-top running joke. A brief but brilliant cameo from a comedy legend takes the script to another level. It is an unforgettable scene. THE END OF SEX celebrates kink rather than shaming. It permits viewers to explore fantasy while reflecting on intimacy. It’s a beginning of a conversation between partners, new and old, and a hell of a good time.
Luke Bracey plays Jesse, a photographer who returns with PTSD. His anger, bitterness, and assumptions sabotage a return to normalcy. Bracey takes us along on a journey that provokes real questions.
The script would benefit from more scenes establishing the strength of Emma and Sam’s bond. The humor comes from Sam’s endearing and feisty conversations with his students. These scenes are genuine and hilarious. The film probably needs one or two at the beginning to establish Sam as a fully fleshed-out character, which only happens much later in the plot. Additionally, I would have loved to see Sam pining away for Emma as a kid. These nitpicky issues speak to the editing as a whole. The narrative is tricky as we jump in time. It could use a bit of reworking, in my opinion. I would watch this story as a series. There is so much to dig into.
ONE TRUE LOVES

The cast makes PAINT watchable. Stephen Root and Wendi McLendon-Covey are ensemble highlights. Ciara Renée plays Ambrosia with cool confidence. She is a smart foil for Wilson. Michaela Watkins plays Katherine, Nargle’s producer and ex-lover. Watkins displays a down-to-earth vibe. Her warmth is endearing, and her coping mechanism for rejection is relatable and funny. Owen Wilson brings his iconic vocal stylings to Carl. The character is more complex than at first glance. Underneath the fame is a lack of SF esteem and regret. Wilson does his best to save the script.
The pace perfectly mirrors the setting of a PBS station in Burlington, Vermont. The dry humor will hit or miss with audiences. It plays like a Christopher Guest film without the mockumentary structure. It pokes fun at the art industry in a tangible and blunt way. In the end, PAINT is an unexpected love story. If you can rock with the vibe, good for you. If not, it’s a bit like watching paint dry.
WITH LOVE AND A MAJOR ORGAN

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