Set in the suburbs of Boulogne-Sur-Mer in northern France, The Worst Ones captures a film within a film as it follows the production of a feature whose director turns to the local Cité Picasso housing project for casting. Eager to capture performances of gritty authenticity, the director selects four working class teenagers to act in the film to the surprise and consternation of the local community, who question the director’s choice of “the worst ones.” As the director and crew audition, rehearse, film, and interact with their hand-picked cast, jealousies are stoked, lines are crossed, and ethical questions arise, with thought-provoking and at times darkly funny results. Winner of the top prize in the Un Certain Regard section of the 2022 Cannes Film Festival, The Worst Ones announces directors Lise Akoka and Romane Gueret as exciting new voices in French cinema.
THE WORST ONES is a meta-narrative that succeeds in conveying hope through hardship. Not only does the film shine in its storytelling, embracing heartbreak and socioeconomic trauma, but the performances also by our four young actors will hypnotize the viewer. Check out the clip below for a taste:
Timéo Mahaut and Mallory Wanecque play the theatrical brother and sister duo, Lily and Ryan. Each pulling from the script an element of abandonment and aggression. This recurring theme is “permission to feel,” The screenplay skillfully taps into the idea that these children struggle to experience a traditional childhood when food, parents, stability, and peace seem out of reach. Their casting becomes the ultimate healing outlet. THE WORST ONES boasts a compelling film-within-a-film structure with an ending that leaves an impression on your soul.
2022’s reboot thrived by finding the perfect balance of new + nostalgia. While that film could be seen as a symbolic passing of the torch from Neve Campbell’s Sydney Prescott to Barrera’s Sam, it is still jarring to watch a Scream film without Sydney. Especially when Scream 6 is so clearly inspired by Scream 2 (talk about sentences you never think you will write), which similarly followed Sydney as she escaped Woodsboro for a fictional college setting. This time though, Courtney Cox is the only original star returning, and she struggles to provide a meaningful link to the weight of original films. Honestly, with so many of the other beloved characters missing in action, a clean break might have been the better approach.
The much-promoted New York setting ultimately feels a bit underused – filming actually occurred in Montreal, and there are only a few scenes that truly attempt to capture the energy of the city. It’s a shame because those scenes are some of my favorites in the whole film. There’s a moment where Sam and Tara hide from Ghostface in a bodega, only to realize that this killer is willing to use weapons even more deadly than a knife. Another scene on the NYC subway captures the rising anxiety facing the city’s public transit today, where a rise in unprovoked attacks has left citizens suspicious of their fellow passengers. But that’s largely it – it feels like a waste of the setting (although to be fair, New York has posed a challenging setting for horror films in the past.) What about Ghostface popping up in a cab, a chase through central park, or a set piece on one of the iconic bridges?
Michael Patrick Lane is Emily’s captor and psycho ex, Charlie. Scary and somehow kooky, he is like the Michael Myers of ex-boyfriends. Missi Pyle plays Carole, and she’s a real asshole. Her performance is both caricature and authentically terrifying. Pyle gives us rich, tacky, gun-toting Karen energy. I mean, had station is in Tallahassee. Her character work is unreal.
Midori Francis is an absolute badass as Emily. Minutes in, I was yelling at the screen, cheering her on. Her shockingly calm demeanor is all the motivation Sam needs to help. Jolene Purdy plays Sam with zero self-esteem and a heart of hold. Her emotional arc in the film will leave you with a smirk. She and Francis have electric chemistry, especially considering they are never in the same space as one another. They are both stars.
Areal shots are stunning. The addition of out-of-focus camerawork puts you in Emily’s chaotic mindset. The splashy neon colors of the Gator Galore station contrast beautifully with Emily’s overcast forest landscape. Directed by Yoko Okumura and written by Salvatore Cardoni and Brian Rawlins, UNSEEN balances comic, over-the-top characters with nuanced ones and the plausible scenario of a woman’s abduction by her ex. The script is a commentary on class and one hell of a story of gender-based violence. It is undeniably entertaining. Some audiences might initially make comparisons with Shudder’s 
Colm Meaney is the abusive Daddy Whelan, heading up the unsavory local family fixing the cottage. Proud and fiery, he is just as volatile as his children. Jaime-Lee O’Donnell and Chris Walley make the aggressive audience relentlessly uncomfortable with their behavior and nationalist words. Kristian Nairn plays Eoin, the quiet, clearly complicated, deemed “simple” son of the Whelan crew. Nairn gives a brilliant performance, more complex than at first glance. 
Douglas Booth wears his emotions on his sleeve as Jaime. He is charming and kind but channels his unresolved trauma into simmering anger and anxiety. Hannah John-Kamen is enchanting and vulnerable. She owns the screen in her self-assured presence. Her chemistry with Booth and the rest of the cast keeps you watching.
The script is a dark adult version of a Grimm’s fairytale. Costumes are as colorful as the scenery is lush. Gorgeous drone shots down windy roads are breathtaking. The score creeps up on you. The first appearance of the elusive creatures is reminiscent of 80s Jim Henson; think Hoggle and the goblins from Labyrinth. They are awesome in the truest sense of the word. As a person who has been pregnant twice, the violence in the film is visceral. The commitment from the cast is applause-worthy. As the impressive practical effects get more intense, so do their performances. You will find yourself wincing and giggling simultaneously. Yes, it is over the top. And yes, the ending is a real WTF. Just go with it and have fun because in UNWELCOME, keeping the tradition alive keeps you alive.
The plot and narrative are an awkward fit for such an intriguing setting. Troubled young Finn (Hart Denton, toned down from his manic turn on Riverdale) drifts through the town. He’s obviously troubled. His relationship with his parents is strained, and we can tell there’s anger (or worse) bubbling under his quiet exterior. He connects with Eliza, a girl at his school. Eliza is troubled too, in her own quieter way: she lives with her alcoholic mother, the two of them living through a trial separation from her step-father and step-sister. As Finn and Eliza deepen their bond, it quickly becomes clear that he will bring great love or great danger into her life (perhaps both.)
I found much to love about American Cherry, but left confused surrounding its tone and intention. From a genre perspective, it somehow sits right at the intersection of romance and psychological thriller, but that ambiguity was confusing in ways that felt unintentional. Is this trying to be Fear for the zoomer generation? Good Will Hunting with more bite? I felt it needed to commit a little bit more firmly. By seeking such balance, it risks underdelivering on both counts.
Wuthering Heights fans will recognize the inspiration in Frances O’Connor‘s screenplay. Sibling and familial dynamics loom large, as does jealousy. A myriad of topics appears in the script; grief, individualism, and life in the arts. Emily shirks gender norms and yet yearns for the approval of her Father. Betrayal, morality, lust, defiance, sibling rivalry, adoration, and spite play keen roles in EMILY. A particularly sharp monologue serves as a Freudian confessional. It is brilliant and heartbreaking.
Fionn Whitehead plays Branwell Brontë with the vibrancy of a firecracker. He is a delightful foil for Mackey. Their connection is undeniable. Oliver Jackson-Cohen is Mr. Weightman. Battling societal morality and love, Jackson-Cohen gives a stunning performance. His intuition and chemistry with Mackey are explosive.
Swallowed is a genre-obliterating film with fantastic performances. Jena Malone adds gritty believability. To no one’s surprise, she manages to bring charm and intensity. Koch and Colon have spectacular chemistry, and you 100 percent buy their relationship. Koch possesses an accessible vulnerability. Colon’s honesty feels grounded. Bravo for their openness to go full frontal nude. We all know how rare that is, and it makes complete sense given the plot. The film also features a solid villainous turn from Mark Patton, a genre legend from A Nightmare on Elm Street 2. One line, in particular, is slyly redemptive given his status in the horror canon.
The camera work has visceral intimacy. Writer-director Carter Smith (The Ruins) gives audiences a unique genre entry, with the leads being LGBTQ male characters in scenarios we usually see female characters tackle. Swallowed is part crime thriller, part coming-of-age, and body horror. This film is an LGBTQ scenario of nightmares. Get ready to squirm.
It stars Jena Malone (The Hunger Games Film Series, Cold Mountain, Stepmom), Mark Patton (A Nightmare on Elm Street 2: Freddy’s Revenge, Freddy vs. Jason), Cooper Koch (Fracture) and Jose Colon (Feature Acting Debut)
One of the most extraordinary and exciting cinematic experiences of the year, GRIMMFEST 2023 audiences got a taste of the uniqueness of Moon Garden. A five-year-old girl’s trauma manifests as bizarre and visceral images as she sits in a coma. The audience hears the real-time action as the doctors and her parents navigate their tumultuous relationship. Guided by her parents’ voices, Emma attempts to escape her mysterious prison world, wading through creatures of good and evil. Moon Garden is an industrial steampunk fairy tale that is relentlessly haunting and undeniably riveting.
Moon Garden is character and world-building at its best. Fascinating and terrifying all at once, we are right alongside Emma in this frightening in-between existence. A bit of Return To Oz with a touch of Pan’s Labyrinth, the magic of Moon Garden grows with each passing second. The editing is stunning. In addition to the monstrous action, writer-director Ryan Stevens Harris incorporates memories, giving Emma the tools to survive in her strange surroundings. It’s a beguiling screenplay tackling love and fear. 
Ashleigh Murray is Alex’s best friend, Grace. She gives us the perfect balance of sweet, supportive, and firey. She’s a foil for Beauchamp. Sherri Sheperd is outstanding as Alex’s AA sponsor Ronnie. This is a fantastic turn filled with grounded concern, loving energy, and wise words. Her calm demeanor balances the chaos beautifully. She is a thoughtfully curated character.
Jonny Beauchamp plays Alex. Writet-director Barry Jay‘s screenplay allows him to show his vast range as he assumes some of Shane’s personality traits as the story progresses. Beginning as a meek and mild, lost young man, Alex slowly becomes increasingly more aggressive. Mike C. Manning (Slapface) throws you off balance from the moment he appears onscreen. He oozes toxic masculinity, helped by his intense workout obsession and the score. Shane goes from subtle to overt manipulation quicker than I expected. He is downright scary. While Manning portrays the ultimate gaslighter, his character is more nuanced than at first glance.
Overall, the lighting is a bit dark for my taste, but the score is carefully crafted and smartly used. The script morphs into a sick and twisted revenge story I did not see coming. There is a complex moral ambiguity that is endlessly intriguing. The Way Out is an unexpected journey of self-discovery and one credible psychological thriller.
Like in The Blair Witch Project, each character goes by their real-life name. Banfitch is the sole cinematographer. The shaky handheld camerawork gives the film solid legitimacy. The sound editing varies based on the speaker’s proximity to the camera, lending to the validity of the experience. With the film opening with a horrifying 911 call, memory card number one contains relatively mundane introductions to the characters. Background information reveals itself in what is essentially Robbie’s private vacation footage. But, you’re so entranced by the opening audio, you become obsessed with discovering the cause of those screams. That, my friends, is compelling editing.
Card two introduces the mystery in earnest. Card three is chaos. 99.9% of the film occurs through Robbie’s lens’ perspective. Much of the explosive final hour is lit by nothing but a flashlight. Therefore, a great deal of what we can’t see paralyzes us. Don’t for a second think that the daylight is any safer. What we do get a glimpse of is gag-inducing and chaotic fear. Ultimately, the ear-piercing manipulation of sound grabs you by the throat. I forgot to breathe. Fair warning: Everything is so dizzying you may get queasy. The script evolves in such a clever and unique way I just resigned myself to yelling. “WTF?!” at each new reveal. It simply keeps going and going. I stopped trying to figure out which way was up. THE OUTWATERS‘ final few minutes made me gasp. If that’s not an endorsement, I don’t know what is. Robbie Banfitch is the next great horror auteur. No one can take that away from him.
The film utilizes classic devices. Mirrors and reflection play a dual role. Reds and fuchsias feature prominently in the form of nail polish, shoes, a toothbrush, Kyoko’s blouse, a robe, and phone case, and most importantly, the scar. I can see why this was such a hit on the festival circuit. WOMAN OF THE PHOTOGRAPHS begs a larger conversation about image and self-worth as dictated by the internet and society.
The writing is perfectly genius, as it disguises the mystery within the secretive nature of the religion. I watch a lot of horror. ATTACHMENT had me on the ropes. I had no idea where this script would land. The language barrier raises the stakes, as important revelations become lost in translation, literally. Performances are spectacular and nuanced. The emotional journeys are lush. Their pasts slowly revealed creating a genuine and curious bond. I could not take my eyes off the screen while watching Attachment, fearing I’d miss the smallest detail. Audiences will be hypnotized.
An hour in, we briefly meet a round of new characters. One, in particular, provides a cringeworthy moment that is a complete waste of time. On the other hand, actress April Lang provides a tangible grounding for Vince as a character, but the glaring lack of a thick Boston accent matching her son made me roll my eyes. That’s not on Lang. Her performance is the most natural in the film, and I wanted to see her storyline more than anyone. Kenny Johnson also impressed me as Vince’s pilot Carter. That’s another story I’d like to explore.
Although the zombie makeup is not great, costumes and general makeup are thoughtfully aged and disheveled. Something that is usually a sticking point in low-budget apocalyptic films. I was equally impressed with the locations. It appears the filmmakers had a lot of options, and they used them to their advantage. Performances are strong all around. A large ancillary and featured extra cast makes for a more impressive final product.
While the drama is a touch overplayed, perhaps akin to a Lifetime drama hokeyness, that does not lessen the intriguing arc in a genre that is tricky to conquer with new ideas. So while we’ve seen the sentimental attachment aspect in the past, the surprising plot point surrounding the very badass Ellen Hillman was phenomenal. Alive‘s final reveal garnered an honest, approving nod from me. I applaud the passion and commitment of writer-director David Marantz. It undoubtedly has an audience.
On the surface, the film is an intimate character study of the growing tensions in a family and community in close quarters and the disruption of everyday life. Slyly mirroring the Israel-Palestine tensions in a darkly comedic way, LET IT BE MORNING tackles the status quo, the want for power, and the need for change in a superbly brilliant way. 
The film begins with intriguing flashbacks of a cult murder, newspaper clippings, and a hauntingly saccharine song. The setup immediately captured my attention. A sudden shift in style and time reveals Karma and Sunny living in fear and relying on the kindness of former cult members for protection. Small crumbs of cult life are just enough to keep you invested in Karma’s fate.
Michael Madsen is vile. His iconic voice serves him well as Paul, giving him an effortless presence. He could have been made more menacing with a few tighter shots overall. Kimberly Alexander plays Sunny with extraordinary nuance. This roller coaster ride of a role spans every emotion; adoration, cruelty, and unadulterated honesty. Alexander goes for it.
It takes a solid 25 mins to get to any action, but then it is pretty much maniacal from there on out. The plot gets more sick and twisted as we roll along, both physically and psychologically. WAKING KARMA shines brightest in the scenes between mother and daughter. The shockingly devastating dialogue by director Liz Fania Werner with co-director Carlos Montaner‘s DP work almost demands an in-depth 
The film opens with Jeb Berrier and a glorious 10-plus minute monologue of stories and advice. His delivery lands somewhere between stoic and hypnotizing. It is an extraordinary turn. Charlie Plummer never ceases to amaze me with his grounded portrayals. It’s like watching a documentary. Plummer settles into Nate without missing a beat. His calming demeanor, similar to Berrier’s, grabs you instantly. Rutherford’s script allows Plummer to break free as the story progresses, and again, he nails it. There is a purity to the performance.
Cinematographer Alfonso Herrera Salcedo‘s work is beautiful. The combination of black-and-white and thoughtful framing captures your attention immediately. I adored the stationary swings. Long takes allow the audience to focus on the dialogue, heightening the emotional investment. The location is a cemetery and the surrounding open plains. Something about this choice speaks volumes on a metaphoric level. Short intercut scenes surprise and delight.
The film is a perfect fit for Slamdance 2023. Writer-director Jeff Rutherford offers an intimate portrait of attempted redemption and connection. Complete with full-circle moments, A Perfect Day for Caribou is a mesmerizing character study brimming with complexity.
Slamdance 2023 Premiere of
After jail-time, 12-step programs and five marriages, Annie begins her acting career in her mid-fifties with the help of a young director she met at a Burger King. In this show within a show, Annie tackles both her gigs as an actor and the role of herself in her own life story.
A farcical meta delight, Slamdance 2023 episodic WHO’S ANNIE skewers the absurdity of Hollywood, but that’s only the beginning. Annie Pisapia plays herself and doesn’t. Yup. You read that correctly. This “series within a series” is wildly entertaining and wholly bizarre. 
Writer-director Sophia Peer plays “herself,” a television director with awkward and quirky energy. Peer bears a striking resemblance to Rhea Pearlman. It’s a head-scratching role, and I could not look away. Sofia Dobrushin plays the “series” version of Peers. Wide-eyed and perfectly cast, Dobrushin appears both afraid and at home in coordinated chaos. I adored her. Annie Pisapia owns the screen, as her comic timing is something to behold. Her rough exterior feels part false flag, part true identity. She is so convincing it is genuinely tough to discern between Annie’s real life and the script. That is the entire point of the series, and Peer has succeeded with flying colors. Adding in Peer’s manic confidence and Dobrushin’s “yes, and” attitude, these three women exquisitely complement one another.
Because the show jumps in style, so does the cinematography. It is eye candy that never gets boring. It is pure silliness, and I’m dying for more. It’s Comedy Central meets Mad TV. There is a lot of meat on the bone for series development. Everyone has enough (or a lot) of backstory to expand upon and plenty of weirdness to start. 
Simon’s psychological manipulation appears in many forms. The constant beratement, the gaslighting, the incessant need to control Alice’s appearance, her whereabouts, what she eats, and when she communicates with him. 
Simultaneously frightening and punchable, Charlie Carrick plays Simon with loathsome energy. Kaniehttio Horn, as Tess, brings tough cookie energy. It’s a wonderful balance for Wunmi Mosaku playing Sophie. She arrives with a genuine mother-hen vibe. As tensions rise, Mosaku serves as a mediator and mender. These three women complement each other perfectly. It was a joy to watch such grounded performances.
Anna Kendrick is captivating as Alice. Writer Alanna Francis hands Kendrick a gift by giving the character the hair-pulling disorder, Trichotillomania. She is the physical embodiment of anxiety. Her naturally petite frame and stature lend themselves to heightened physical frailty. But it is Kendrick’s idiosyncracies that place you inside the mind of a woman consumed by terror.
The script’s structure occurs in three distinct acts. The subplot of a local missing woman presents the viewer with a myriad of emotional and narrative possibilities. The gravity of female friendship and the innate protective instincts we carry loom large. The fear women face on a day-to-day basis feels weighty in the narrative. ALICE, DARLING is a keen reclamation of power through the love and support of their fellow sisters.
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