STUTZ
World-renowned psychiatrist Phil Stutz sits down for an unorthodox, heartfelt session with friend and patient Jonah Hill, bringing to life Stutz’s visualization exercises, called The Tools, and sharing how to apply them while having unconventionally deep conversations on both sides.
Jonah Hill and Dr. Phil Stutz have an awe-inspiring relationship. After recently taking a step back from doing press for the good of his mental health, Hill wanted to make a documentary to share his friend’s therapy method, The Tools, with the world. In STUTZ, Jonah explains why he began therapy at thirty-three. Fame exacerbated his hurt, but with Phil’s help, his self-love grows daily. Admittedly it is not without struggle. That’s not the point. It is a lifelong process, day to day, making it through the next twenty-four hours.
“The Tools,” a phrase writers and actors use often, made complete sense. Dr. Stutz uses hand-drawn visual notecards to explain each one. A simple and concise way to relate the exercises that anyone could carry in their pockets. Life Force, Part X, String of Pearls, The Shadow, The Snapshot, The Maze, Radical Acceptance, and Loss Processing comprise The Tools.
Both Jonah and Phil talk through each one. For example, Hill explains, “Part X would be the villain in the story of being a person.” Stutz describes it as a primal fear of overcoming negative forces. But without Part X, we don’t grow. During the course of their conversations, I found myself closing my eyes when Phil requested it from Jonah. It was as if I were “on the couch” with him.
Phil and Jonah take jabs at one another. They are goofy, loving, and brutally honest. Delving into Phil’s turbulent childhood, it is easy to see why he became a therapist. Jonah asks questions that put him on the spot. We learn how Parkinson’s diagnosis informs his therapy methods and personal life. There are moments you’ll ask yourself, “which one is the therapist here,” as the questions bounce back and forth. Their trust is mesmerizing.
I learned so much about my behavior, generational trauma, concise ways to dig into my parenting methods, and how to forgive the hurt from my childhood. STUTZ is surprisingly hilarious, making it an insightful and simultaneously breezy watch. Hill’s thoughtfulness in crafting this film makes for a deep revelatory experience. It’s the oddest warm hug in a documentary form I can imagine. I highly recommend STUTZ.
Now streaming on Netflix
Daniel Craig returns as Benoit Blanc, the debonair southern detective. This time around, Blanc is invited to an isolated Greek island by billionaire Miles Bron (Edward Norton, giving Elon Musk post-burning man vibes.) Bron has invited several of his closest friends for a weekend getaway that just happens so happens to include a murder-mystery game. Things go wrong faster than you can say “bad idea.”
I was worried that Glass Onion would suffer from an overreliance on Craig’s detective. Knives Out benefited immensely from a core focus on Ana de Armas’ fish-out-of-water character. The film smartly employs him as a foil for its many new cast members. The new faces are stellar across the board. Janelle Monae shows incredible versatility. Leslie Odom Jr. and Kathryn Hahn have the tough job of playing the respective sticks in the mud while the rest of the cast gets to have fun. Kate Hudson and Dave Bautista really let it rip. We’re used to this from Bautista, but it is a particularly welcome departure for Hudson. As I reflect back on the past years of the pandemic, her character provides particular hilarious relief. There are also several delightful cameos. I won’t spoil them for you, but suffice it to say it seems like nearly everybody wanted in on this thing.
Whodunit films seem to be light work for Rian Johnson. His 2005 debut, Brick, was an exceptionally hard-boiled film noir that just happened to be set in a high school. Despite their common director, Brick and Glass Onion could not be more different. Where Brick was pitch black noir down to its very bones (even down to the dialogue), Glass Onion is a sun-drenched delight inspired by holiday mysteries such as Evil Under the Sun and The Last of Sheila. It provides necessary effervescent support as we head into the cold winter months. I can’t wait for the next chapter!
Yale University’s meticulous record-keeping in the Sterling library proves invaluable. After scanning 60, 000 pages in the microform media room, the aha moment appears; a 1959 letter between 
Kimi’s traumatic childhood and Russia’s national political upheaval created the perfect ticking time bomb of existence. He and Marusya needed each other to stay alive, but unresolved trauma is a killer lying in wait. Through marriage, rehab, divorce, and Kimi on a headlong downward spiral, Marusya must find other ways to dull the inner chaos. She had to decide, make a plan to live, or join her innumerable friends in suicide.
The systemic failure at Fort Hood will leave you seething. After two months of desperate outcry, the Army finally makes a statement and begins to search, but it is too little too late. With the pro bono help of maverick lawyer Natalie Khawam, The Guillen family takes their fight to Capital Hill. 
I remember this story. I remember feeling so angry when I heard how long Vanessa had been missing before I heard about it on the news. Then, when the details emerged of her murder and subsequent failure at Fort Hood, I was disgusted. Those feelings returned and multiplied as I watched this film. Understanding the extent of their coverup will blow your mind. The military justice system allows for secrecy and discretion to sweep everything under the rug. It is beyond broken.
Victoria Moroles is Jane. Her precociousness is spot a delight. Segan gives her dialogue deliciously reminiscent of Dawson’s Creek, i.e., she is far too eloquent for fifteen. Her chemistry with Segan is comfortable and endlessly amusing. Her takedown of the film’s misogynist energy is chef’s kiss.
Writer-director-star Noah Segan plays Francis as a Yiddish-spewing loaner. His penchant for a happy-go-lucky attitude is more function over form. We learn about his deep-seated loneliness and unresolved trauma, which creates an equally funny and tragic persona. Segan gives a star-making performance.
BLOOD RELATIVES is an undeniably fun vampire coming-of-age family film. Heartwarming, silly, and intimate, it is easy to see why it garnered so much attention in the festival circuit. Shudder is the perfect platform for Segan’s madcap creation. I formally request a sequel when Jane gets to college. I have to know where this family unit ends up. Don’t forget to bring Fieldner along.
Annet Mahendru gives Alice palpable manic desperation. Her ability to jump from one emotion to another in the same breath is impressive. It is one hell of a turn. Milo Gibson is Dave Hayes. His character arc almost feels like the audience is witnessing a slow-motion car crash. Gibson brings not-so-subtle anger and protective alpha energy. 
MANIFEST WEST addresses a myriad of current and alarming themes in America. The score is melancholy and ominous. Writer-directors Joe Dietsch and Louie Gibson use the girls’ history text as a smart foreshadowing device. Antigovernment sentiment compounds the simmering chaos. Add Alice’s deteriorating bipolar disorder, and you have a powder keg. Children learn from their parents, for better or for worse. MANIFEST WEST runs head-on with its relevance to a shocking conclusion.
The doc also discusses Mainstream Mickey and counterculture Mickey and how his image became synonymous with cultural change through the years. They touch upon copyright infringement and the complexities that grew out of Walt’s loss of Oswald the Rabbit. Filmmakers and interviewees do not shy away from the negative stereotypes appearing in certain cartoons and how Mickey became a corporate symbol. It’s an honest take. 
I was lucky enough to have been a performer at Disneyland in 2000. For the insiders, I’ll say I had the magical title of “pageant helper,” which carries more weight than it suggests. I thought perhaps working at the parks would kill a little bit of the joy, as technically, I had peeked behind the curtain, quite literally. Nothing could be further from the truth. Anytime I stepped onto the grounds out from backstage (the areas no guest ever sees), I would be a giant kid all over again. On one unforgettable day, I had the unprecedented honor of meeting the actor Walt hired to wear the first Mickey costume on Disneyland’s opening day. There I am, a sweaty mess, in half a costume smiling like a fangirl. It was a part of history most people would never get to touch. 
Visually, Mickey: The Story of a Mouse is a cinematic dream. From hand-drawn frame-by-frame cell animation to chemist-mixed paint to the collaborations we see today as animation and technology shift by the day. We experience the sheer artistry involved in Mickey as animators recreate some of his most iconic roles throughout history. In a sort of meta moment, these creators work on the newest Mickey short, “Mickey In A Minute,” during the doc, one hand-drawn scene at a time. The final product is Disney perfection. 
The intimate nature of Bad Axe is visceral. The Siev family could be anyone’s neighbors. They are friendly, hardworking, and respectful members of their community. They bug each other as much as they love each other. They remind me of my holidays when all four siblings invade our childhood home with inside jokes, arguments, and an unconditional adoration for one another. 
I’ve been sitting on my thoughts about this film for two days now. If I’m being completely honest, I think PRESENCE plays like a rushed prequel to a horror franchise. All the elements are in place for some seriously scary storytelling. Yet somehow, I was left with more questions than answers.
I must say that the performance of Dave Davis is my favorite part of the film. Davis gives depth to the building mystery, in some moments with nothing but a panicked stare. His intensity immediately reeled me in, calming me during my desperation to make sense of the plot. I would watch an entire film about his journey with the Presence. That’s the story that hooked me instantly.
Home videos, Tess’ narration, and Liv’s diary entries comprise a narrative that looks and sounds like so many young people. The doc plays out in two distinct halves; before and after. My Sister Liv begins with Tess telling the audience Liv’s story. The second is Tess and their mother’s emotional devastation and how the pandemic rolled into their already heavy grief, with videos of Liv replaced by videos of Tess. Then zoom discussions of Tess speaking with young people Liv’s age and mental health professionals, expressing similar feelings, coping mechanisms, causes, and statistics. 
We don’t know much more than that, and we don’t really need to. The film’s premise in many respects takes a backseat to the character dynamics and overall setting. Mia Threapleton brings a quiet, contemplative balance to the role of Alma. She is often tasked with being simultaneously curious, terrified, furious, and even somewhat maternal (kids are complex, even in an apocalypse!) Threapleton is up for the task, and I’m eager to see what roles she pursues in the future. As younger sister Alex, I felt Lola Petticrew suffered from less screen time, which is remarkable in a film with only 3 characters. As Mother, Saskia Reeves dances on a razor wire stretched between empathy and lunacy.
Beyond strong characters, the film leverages its setting to its full effect in an impressive fashion. The hotel is decrepit and terrifying. The simplicity and restraint of the framing will stick with me – lingering shots of empty, silent halls convey an effective chill without excessive soundtracks or jump cuts. I also loved the way the film showcased the more mundane aspects of survival (collecting water, checking on greenhouses, hunting for food) Survival isn’t always about running and jumping.
Charming and breezy, Sam & Kate is a lovely exploration of generational communication and the joy and complexities of newfound intimacy.
Jake Hoffman and Schuyler Fisk learned a lot from their parents because they are spectacular. Hoffman’s boy next door goodness is pitch-perfect. Fisk is effortlessly elegant. Together, they transfix the audience with their wounded imperfection.
The script from writer-director Darren Le Gallo feels like a comforting hug, yet fresh. I love that Sam and Kate aren’t 20-somethings. I respect the grown-up, lived-in realities of caring for aging parents while exploring their place in the world. Tina and Kate’s histories affect every beat. In the end, Sam & Kate boasts incredibly grounded dialogue and flawless pacing. It’s a gem and a notable debut for Darren Le Gallo.
Performances from our five leads are exceptional. Dylan Schombing plays Kyle, a young webcam hacker essential to the audience following any trace of sense. Schombing’s eyes speak volumes. Kelcey Mawema is Court. She has a party-girl spirit with a drinking problem that hides an inferiority complex. Mawema gives us a solid performance, never letting herself become a third wheel as the story progresses. Peyton List plays Zooza. This role is a departure for List, even with her darker character of Cobra Kai. You cannot help but focus on her turmoil.
Brendan Meyer (who I loved in OA, and am still bitter we didn’t get our ending…) plays Rob with a trustworthy boy-next-door aura. But, Ober’s script allows him to explore a nuance that Meyer owns. Kaitlyn Santa Juana‘s turn as Cotton is enthralling. She is the thread we follow through the film as we unravel the game. There’s an “it” quality about her I cannot pin down, but I’m dying to see her in whatever she does next.
The script had me hanging on every word, every visual, and mind-ending twist. Writer Damien Ober and director Scooter Corkle hypnotize audiences with dizzying editing combined with slowly leaking reveals. It’s a ceaselessly engrossing marriage of devices. Add on the notable red/ blue lighting and jarring soundscape, and The Friendship Game holds you captive from the very first frame. It is emotional manipulation at its finest.
Diana’s integration into the family lands somewhere between awkward and essential. Husband Felix and young daughter Roberta (they call her Bobs) are caught in the middle, allowing for gaslighting from Felix and growing distrust from Bobs. Add in the class distinction with Christine and her family living in a lavish mansion, while Diana arrives with nothing but a single suitcase, mostly filled not with clothing. Writer-director Lorcan Finnegan utilizes flashbacks of Diana’s life to illustrate the glaring contrast. Little by little, the audience begins to piece things together, but not before being disturbed by the effects of Diana’s folk healing methods.
As the story progresses and the truth reveals itself, your view of each character shifts. Eva Green plays Chrissy with both a manic and ruthless angle. She is a master at living inside the skin of a character, and Christine is no exception. Chai Fonacier is Diana. This juicy role allows us to see Fonacier’s massive range. I would watch her in all the things, as they say.
*******SPOILER ALERT*******
Chris Zylka‘s vulnerability is award-worthy. The performance reminds me a lot of Cooper Raiff in 
Benson and Moorhead’s use of science is a running theme in their films. It is always clever. In SOMETHING IN THE DIRT, history and math (specifically the Pythagorean theory) are quite literally written on the walls. The quick-take editing holds your attention like a vice with a mix of home videos, documentary-style sit-down interviews, visuals of whatever topic Levi and John reference, and handheld cinematography allow the audience to teeter on the edge of doc and sci-fi narrative. This is what Benson and Moorhead do; keep you on your toes from start to finish.
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