THE KING TIDE
Ten years past the discovery of a baby on the shores of their small New England fishing island, residents have avoided sickness and death through the girl’s mysterious ability to heal those around her. Young Isla is essentially the town’s diety. With her mysterious power, she holds the balance of life and death in her presence. Because of this, the adults have sheltered the children, telling stories of mainlanders as evil outsiders. They know nothing of technology or books from off the shores, nothing of illness that Isla cannot cure. Following a traumatic experience, her talents come into question, launching the village into panic and chaos. With elements of The Village and The Green Mile, themes of isolation, paranoia, morality, and magic pull the viewer into a swirling mystery.
The cast is strong, particularly Alix West Lefler as Isla. She has a purity to her performance that is nothing short of mesmerizing. The overcast skies, neutral costumes, and lantern-lit sets keep us unsettled. The foreboding cello-heavy score makes you catch your breath. The tension builds into an uncontrollable monster. The film culminates in a shocking and award-worthy finale. THE KING TIDE is inarguably one of the best-written films of the year. It deserves a prequel and a sequel. It is a must-see.
Directed by
Christian Sparkes
Writing Credits
Kevin Coughlin … (story by)
Ryan Grassby … (story by)
Albert Shin
William Woods
The overwhelming joy of hearing these kids laugh is infectious. SUMMER QAMP is an education, through and through. As a former theatre kid and current creative adult with two kids, I strive to understand how identity plays a part in overall confidence. I grew up with often crippling anxiety, a stranglehold of perfectionism, and feeling othered. It doesn’t feel good. My job is to protect my kids from the same overwhelming feelings of chaos any way I can.
SUMMER QAMP‘S brave kids allow the audience into their personal lives. They may not fully appreciate how fearless they are. Campers share their gender identity journey, the good, the bad, and the emotionally ugly. This film provides a conversation starter for understanding gender dysphoria from those experiencing it firsthand. It’s an aha of a film. 
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.
Michael Reagan plays Tyler Wilson. Reagan balances a toxic masculinity that hides behind a starving artist’s desire. His dismissive intolerance is loathsome, fueled by Tyler’s not-so-secret problem with alcohol. Tedra Millan gives Jen relatability with her compounding worrying. Jen has a lot on her plate, and like most women, her need to solve all the world’s problems consumes her. Written on her face and the pace of her breathing, it’s a visceral feeling.
This film is an extraordinary story of a power struggle that takes aim at capitalism and cleverly pits mental health against self-preservation. GHOSTS OF THE VOID leaves us with questions of morality and equal parts relief and dread.
Dana Berger plays Jenn with an exasperated aura. She is a woman who has decided that this relationship is over. Berger’s emotional journey is vastly different from her co-star Max Woertendyke, playing Dan. He has some fight left in him as to their marriage. That comes with a caveat of information as the film rolls on. Woertendyke nails the comedy and the horror. Their remarkable chemistry and Elcar’s writing earn a second viewing. The editing is impressive. I wish I could have been in the room while Elcar was storyboarding. The coordinated chaos is delicious. The dialogue is honest and biting, even set against the mysterious goings-on. It’s undeniably ballsy. 
A therapy session from hell, BRIGHTWOOD taunts our protagonists and the audience with macabre twists and turns, dizzying us with theories. Its shocking final reveal (which is a double doozy) seemingly suggests that, in this environment, compromise and teamwork are the only way forward, for better or for worse. No spoilers from me. It’s dark as hell.
Cinematographer Hazem Berrabah offers striking juxtaposing visuals of sheep grazing on open fields next to grey concrete structures. Half-built complexes with their innumerable exposed rebar present like monsters bearing sharp teeth and long claws. 
The defiance by detectives keeps your attention steady. No one wants to be told they cannot do their job. Performances from stars Fatma Oussaifi and Mohamed Houcine Grayaa are spellbinding. Their moody and grounded work feels personal and devastating. Oussaifi’s reaction to the overwhelming amount of misogyny hits hard. The writing is hard to shake, a compliment for writer-director Youssef Chebbi and co-writer François-Michel Allegrini.
The number of King’s books that jumped from page to screen is astounding. As a kid in the 80s, like many of the filmmakers in the doc, I grew up seeing King’s books on my family’s shelf but immersed myself in the films first. The kids in Stand By Me and IT became my peers. I rented The Shining, Creepshow, and Pet Sementary ad nauseum. By the time 1996 rolled around, I remembered the glee I experienced when I discovered The Green Mile in the grocery store checkout aisle. 
While we don’t hear from King directly, we see stills and videos of Stephen on the sets of his adaptations. Filmmakers like Greg Nicotero, Mike Flanagan, David Carson, Taylor Hackford, Tom Holland, John Harrison, Mick Garris, and Frank Darabont share how King’s books inspired their work. They speak to the overwhelming readability of small-town horror. King singlehandedly made Maine an unlikely horror destination. I love that everyone addresses The Shining controversy. Behind-the-scenes footage and anecdotes explain the breakdown between the book and the film. Kubrick obliterates Jack Torrance’s humanity that fans of the book (King, most of all) hate. 
King’s deep dive into the political landscape has always existed. The film explores his ability to explore universal truths, whether religion, race, or greed, and make characters lovable or loathsome based on their moral compass. In the same way, we joke about The Simpsons‘ writers predicting the future, Stephen King uses the global landscape to create villains and heroes that shake us to our core. Translating that from page to screen sometimes takes a slight adjustment. The best filmmakers always ask Steve first. 
For horror fans, KING ON SCREEN is like a kid coming home with a Halloween candy haul that would put you in a coma. For fans of his books, it’s like changing costumes and going out for round two. It’s delicious fun, no matter how cliche you might find the Easter egg-filled bookend scenes. They play like a Where’s Waldo for readers and genre fans alike. (I loved it.) So, turn the lights down and make popcorn. KING ON SCREEN scares up our nostalgia and celebrates a storytelling master.
Judith/Margot’s curated existence managing two identities and two families begins to crumble, exposing her lies, motives, and underlying trauma. 
Virginie Efira wows audiences as a woman wearing all the hats. Effortlessly embodying each distinct persona, Efira proves, once again she is a star. It is a balancing act of power structures, dangerous satisfaction, and unusual sacrifice. 
Antoine Barraud gives audiences a film almost best viewed without prior knowledge of the plot. Enticing the audience and challenging their sense of morality, MADELEINE COLLINS hypnotizes with twists, turns, and deep complexity. Barraud and co-writer Héléna Klotz carefully weave an unmissable commentary about beauty, unrequited male infatuation, and childhood trauma into the narrative. The film overflows with nuance, and its final reveal changes everything. It is a wildly elaborate hurricane of grief.
A manipulative sociopath armed with a dangerously ambitious spirit, her wits, and an affinity for snorting wasabi voyages into the high-intensity game of stock market trading and wages war against the financial world. When she stumbles upon news of a monumental pharmaceutical trade, she risks everything to complete her ultimate success story no matter the cost.
Kimberly-Sue Murray owns every second of screen time. Her manic energy drives the narrative like a runaway freight train. The character is slick, interested only in the genuine long con. Murray masters everything from various accents to grounded emotional release through interpretive dance. She truly is the smartest person in the room. Filmmaker Corey Stanton gives the trader a backstory that slowly reveals itself, adding a new level to the complexity of TRADER. Just when you think you’ve got the story pegged, think again. TRADER is relentlessly tense. It is a conspiracy theorist’s wet dream. 
TRADER is a one-woman show. I would love to see this live onstage, to feel the energy in person. TRADER is an indictment of capitalism and how, with the aid of the internet, the combination of the two may be the undoing of society. This twisted film is a one-of-a-kind ride. It’s an ever-evolving endgame that sucks you in. Don’t forget to unclench your jaw and draw a breath while you watch. TRADER is the ultimate disruptor.
Les Dents Du Bonheur (Sweet Tooth)
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.
Ben Kingsley stars as Milton Robinson, a melancholy widower going through the motions in a quiet Pennsylvania town. He attends town halls, watches tv, and tends to his garden. The only break in his routine seems to be occasional visits from his daughter, Denise (Zoë Winters). A son is mentioned, but only barely.
As compared to our current media environment, Jules’ vision of our interaction with aliens is refreshing delightful, if not a little far-fetched. Nobody seems particularly threatened by the alien, nor the alien by them. In fact, calm would be the best way to sum up reactions on both sides. While there are some darker themes that emerge throughout the film, they are brief. At its core, this is a sweet and thoughtful film.
Jules is a perfect film for today’s fascination with the idea of aliens. Everyone is looking at the news and asking “What’s out there?”. Jules’ introspective focus answers that big question, but also suggests that it is what’s going on inside us that continues to matter the most.
When a bride flees her wedding day, the groomsmen track her down, shall we say, to address the problem she has created for everyone involved. Director Timothy Woodward Jr. gives audiences an action-packed romp in TIL DEATH TO US PART.
Pancho Moler and Neb Chupin deserve your attention. This pairing is a buddy comedy in the making. Orlando Jones has fantastic chemistry with Gigandet. He is effortlessly charming. Cam Gigandet nails the villain role with a deliciously overconfident and definitively slimy aura. The camera loves him. His delivery is chef’s kiss. I would be delighted to watch a spinoff film featuring Jones and Gigandet in a heartbeat. Hell, 
Ser’Darius Blain is elegant as The Groom. His presence is genuinely beguiling. Jason Patric elevates the film with his captivating storytelling. It’s a killer turn. Natalie Burn holds her own against this primarily male cast. Quite literally sticking it to the patriarchy, Burn is tailor-made for this genre. 
Markos Keyto’s production design is phenomenal. The fight choreography is entertaining as hell. The soundtrack is a character all its own. Together they are the perfect marriage of camp and kick ass. Shout out to the practical fx team. There is a brilliant moment with a chainsaw. The editing keeps things interesting, forcing you to pay attention to the story as it unfolds. Comparisons to Mr. and Mrs. Smith are inevitable, but this film has an unexpected nuance from writers Chad Law and Shane Dax Taylor. Besides the runtime feeling a little long, TIL DEATH DO US PART is an undeniably fun action-thriller.
It’s the year 2041, and humanity has reached the point where it can cheat death. Anyone who dies an unnatural death has the right to be brought back to life. All you have to do is to create a backup of your personality – a restore point – at least every forty-eight hours. But there exists a movement of people who try to sabotage this concept. “Agent Em” finds herself drawn into a case that is not as simple as it first seemed and the consequences of which reach to the highest levels of politics.
Matej Hádek plays David with an intentional glitchiness. The physical and emotional choices draw you into the mystery. Andrea Mohylová brings humanity that grounds her performance. You can see the gears turning, the struggle between the personal and principles of the case. Mohylová is badass, effortlessly carrying the action. She is extraordinarily watchable. As a duo, they are inarguably compelling.
Both films also ask complicated questions surrounding the way ideals or symbols exist or endure once they are exposed to the whims of the broader world. When Barbie and Ken leave Barbieland, they quickly learn that what they believed to be universal truths no longer apply. The way they see themselves may not be how others see them. Similarly, an initial vision for how the atom bomb might be leveraged quickly shifts when the weapon rolls out of the lab and into the hands of the US military. Both Barbie and Oppenheimer are forced to realize that intention doesn’t necessarily translate to reality.
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