And I Miss You Like A Little Kid

From microaggressions to unapologetic emotional manipulation, And I Miss You Like A Little Kid sees a new relationship between strangers Jason and Clarissa begin during the pandemic. It isn’t long before power becomes the focus, and masterminded carelessness drive one of them to their breaking point.
Watching Jason endure ceaseless emotional abuse is visceral. It’s an interesting angle from the typical toxic grooming gender dynamic. Filmed in lockdown adds another layer, the relationship compiling with the isolation that was already a monster when Jason was alone. And I Miss You Like A Little Kid takes you by surprise, over and over.
Teri Reeves plays Clarissa with an edgy, ferocious energy. I loathed her. It is essential to understand this is a compliment. She is great.
Chris Zylka‘s vulnerability is award-worthy. The performance reminds me a lot of Cooper Raiff in Sh*thouse. It is not often we see the softer side of men. Zylka brings freshness. His sadness and overwhelming confusion are palpable.
As someone who had three separate college roommates that were cutters, And I Miss You Like A Little Kid is especially challenging to witness. I had forgotten the impact of catching someone bleeding with a knife in one hand, bleeding from the wrist or forearm, or inner thigh. But, in this film, Jason’s ability to recognize his breaking point is the catharsis necessary before the audience loses all hope. And I Miss You Like A Little Kid hits hard and leaves scars. It will take me a long time to shake. Writer-director Benjamin Hosking strikes a raw nerve and presents us with a clear artistic voice. Whatever comes next, I’ll have my eyes and ears waiting.
And I Miss You Like a Little Kid (TRAILER) from Benjamin Hosking on Vimeo.
Audiences can see the film today at AFI Film Festival Conservatory Showcase 6. It will screen in a block with other short films beginning at 3:45 PM at TCL Chinese Theater.
The entire film festival will run Wednesday, November 2-6th, 2022.
AND I MISS YOU LIKE A LITTLE KID is a short psychological drama displaying the spiraling and abusive domestic relationship of Jason (Chris Zylka, The Amazing Spider Man (2012), 90210, Hannah Montana and Cougar Town) and Clarissa (Teri Reeves, The Punisher on Netflix, ABC’s Once upon a Time, Hulu’s Battleground and NBC’s Chicago Fire) in Covid-era Los Angeles.
Film’s website: https://www.
Instagram: @andimissyoulikealiitlekid
Facebook Page: And I Miss You Like a Little Kid




Demi Moore plays upstairs neighbor Maureen. She’s a hot pink and animal print-drenched eccentric woman and the perfect influence on Suze, giving her permission to let go of her inhibitions. Karl Glusman is Teddy, a member of The Young Gents with an eye for Arthur. Glusman nails the classic greaser role, adding a relentless sensuality to his words. He is fantastic.
The score is brilliant, with a mix of bass plucking, bongo drums, and saxophone wails. Short bursts of choreography smartly encapsulate the mood and era. The sets are deliciously accentuated with neon-colored everyday objects, black light hues, and engulfing blues and magenta. Everything sort of glows like a live-action comic book.














Abigail Fuller’s short film Shepherd’s Song contemplates Earth’s interconnectedness through the eyes of California grazier Jenya Schneider. Climate change threats in the west frequently come in the form of severe droughts and wildfires. Jenya and her partner Jack have chosen a cyclically beneficial lifestyle for the Earth, their clients, and themselves. Four hundred ewes, recycled fencing, and unrelenting passion comprise their venture. Grazing becomes a service to the land, and the sheep produce wool and lanolin. The science behind grazing done right shows the value to the ecosystems it serves. It’s healing the land.
A beautiful score by Serena Goransson moves from subtle to soaring as the film progresses. It feels perfect. Carmen Delaney’s mix of handheld and drone cinematography gives the audience an idea of the landscape scale against Jenya and Jack’s figures through the mountainous grasslands. It is stunning. SHEPHERD’S SONG is part climate film, part nature film, and all heart. We can all learn a whole lot from Jenya and Jack. They are showing the world how to repair the damage we’ve done, one area of grassland at a time.

Paula Gallego plays Marta and brings everything we need from sass to “final girl” greatness. Her chemistry with Ramiro Blas takes you by surprise. It is one hell of a pairing. Speaking of Ramiro Blas, as Blasco, he manages to be slimy and loveable all at once. There’s a reason he won The Grimm Reaper award for Best Actor. You’ll love to hate him and hate and love him. 

The legwork done by these women is mindblowing. The all-hours phone calls, the messages, the threats, and the intimate and honest way they approached anyone connected with Miramax and The Weinstein Company. The film conveys the emotional exhaustion of it all. Story after story of similar allegations and subsequent NDAs sucker punch you, over and over. As these cases now play out in real-time, it is fascinating to witness how to reach a victim and what compels an enabler. One particular detail I found interesting was Weinstein’s obsession with whether the team had spoken to
Carey Mulligan

The era jokes and visual cues are kickass. Wyatt says, “Penis wrinkles,” a phrase I know from my first feature film in theaters, E.T. High five for the obscure homage. Also, the fact that I can remember the lyrics to, “Hey Girl,” days later, says a lot. 
Mark Rylance
Sir Anthony Hopkins plays Paul’s grandfather, Aaron. Hopkins nails the role with charm and grace. He is a crucial moral compass for Paul but is also part of the broader problem. Gray explains how this microcosm of one family is just as relevant today, stating that one can be oppressed and still be an oppressor. This idea is never more true as we watch Paul begin to understand white privilege while simultaneously wrestling with his desire to be an artist and feeling unsupported, behavioral acting out, and the subsequent physical discipline.
Let me explain why the cast’s explanations became of great significance. The most successful aspect of Gray’s script is the nuance in character building. These are not sugar-coated versions of people, but characters in volatile times, racially and economically. Their flaws are exponentially recognizable, regardless of the year. Armageddon Time could be happening right now. The cynical nature of history and generational trauma will have audiences’ hearts in their throats, shaking their heads in shame for much of the film. Therein lies the film’s strongest achievement.
With a little bit of The Blair Witch Project vibe, writer-director Scott Sloane takes on exploitation in a unique and relevant way. Performances are solid across the board. The first half of the film is tightly structured. While the second half is a touch predictable, it is still fun, filled with gore and revenge. If you’re a ghost hunter/paranormal/ true crime/ horror nerd like me, you will appreciate the legit editing. Special shout out to the incessantly creepy contortionist work. Bravo.







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