WHAT YOU WISH FOR
Writer-director Nicholas Tomnay takes us on a journey of twisted morality. Down on his luck, chef Ryan steps into the life of his schoolmate and cooks for a small group of ultra-wealthy diners. The experience is nothing like he imagined.
Nick Stahl plays Ryan, a chef running from his gambling debts. When he assumes the identity of his former culinary schoolmate, he must outpace the threats at home while managing the expectations of “playing” Jack. Questions of morality loom large. You’ll root for a man bending the rules to survive. 
Nick Stahl has been on my radar my entire life. We are the same age, and as a cinephile from the womb, I’ve followed his career from The Man Without a Face to Disturbing Behavior and, more recently, Hunter Hunter and What Josiah Saw. To me, he’s a genre staple. WHAT YOU WISH FOR is another strong role choice for Stahl. His ability to command each frame, often without dialogue, draws you into his world.
Tomnay gives the audience plenty of intrigue from beginning to end, slowly building tension, never quite letting up until the last frame. And boy, it’s a doozy. I cannot say much more. I don’t wish to spoil the film. Trust me when I say it’s a delicious entry into the dark comedic world. It is, as they say, Chef’s Kiss.
WHAT YOU WISH FOR is written and directed by Nicholas Tomnay. The film is produced by Nicholas Tomnay, Francesca Silvestri & Kevin Chinoy.
1991, in the middle of a Massachusetts cornfield, open every day in October, Dave Bertolino‘s Spooky World was a horror con and a theme park. It was the first dedicated haunted attraction, paving the way for every modern-day, big-name fright night across the country. Built on a dollar and a dream, Spooky World grew more popular and went through numerous iterations. As one of the first featured guests, Tom Savini’s direct influence on Spookyworld shifted from a homegrown haunted hayride to a proper frightening experience within a year, with Tom building his own branded Haunted House. The busier the park, the more elaborate and inventive Bertolino had to become.
The townspeople of Berlin had a fantastic relationship with Bertolino. Bringing jobs, money, and recognition to a sleepy farming town. But, not everyone was thrilled with the boundary-pushing additions, playing politics and making Bertilino’s job harder. That’s not to say that his antics and ideas came without skepticism from within.
Growing up in northern Connecticut, I cannot believe I never ventured up the Spooky World as a self-proclaimed Halloween addict and horror fanatic. I’m thankful the park ever existed, and its humble and exciting existence spread like wildfire so that global genre fans could care and scare together.
Opportunity, loyalty, guilt, and greed drive THE WAIT (La Espera) headlong into tragedy. F. Javier Gutierrez‘s 2023 Fantastic Fest film takes our protagonist on a torturous journey into madness. To save his flailing marriage, Eladio agrees to take cash under the table to break the rules. The consequences are deadly. When the drink takes over his existence, visions and strange occurrences send him on a wild goose chase for redemption and salvation.
Striking sun-baked cinematography juxtaposed with nightmare scenarios makes for a visually splendid treat for genre fans. The first third of the film lies firmly in the classic Western genre. The sudden flip into supernatural horror is jarring, but our leading man, Victor Clavijo, has you tied in knots on his emotional journey and the mystery at hand. One nightmarish torment scene boasts fantastic practical and Special FX makeup. The mystery grows steadily. The motive is a slow burn, though it does pay off. THE WAIT (La Espera) is a solid folk horror entry and an even more niche win for the Western horror subgenre.
Riley Rose Critchlow gives a particularly entrancing performance. Their living vs. dead personalities are vastly different but equally grin-inducing. Critchlow captures a relatable sadness, leaving a lasting impression. 
The subtle creepiness is just enough to teeter on the edge, as the film is more drama than your typical horror. THE JESSICA CABIN is a spectacular entry into the LGBTQIA+ genre, perfectly melding comedy, culture, and complex storyline. The film looks at mental health in a stunningly nuanced way. It is crazy charming and superbly funny, pushing moral boundaries while asking existential questions. Seek it out.
The film directly follows 2022’s Death on the Nile and finds Detective Poirot enjoying retirement within the canals of Venice. His services are still in great demand (as evidenced by the constant line of hopeful clients) but he has lost his faith. When he is approached by his old friend and novelist Ariadne Oliver (Tina Fey, in a thinly veiled nod to author Agatha Christie), we know it can’t be long before the body count begins to climb.
While the characters are thin, the atmosphere and cinematography of the film are incredibly lush – they are the real stars of the show. I would have bet you good money this film had a different cinematographer from the last two – the difference in style is night and day. But it is still Haris Zambarloukos at the helm, so all I can say is keep it up! Venice does a lot of the heavy lifting, of course, but there’s more to it than that. The first two films leveraged green-screen extensively, whereas Haunting is grounded and has a sense of place. The tone of the film is much more focused, and almost every scene contains rich imagery. I loved the way the suspense of the potential supernatural was implied in every scene – walls and windows of the palazzo creak and seem alive in a manner reminiscent of old Hollywood. No need for CGI thrills here. How great was the imagery? I could watch this movie with absolutely no dialogue and still enjoy myself immensely.
When I saw Bad Boys for Life in 2020, I would never in a thousand years have imagined the directors had a picture like Rebel in them. This is an ambitious, profound, and thoughtful film. Like Bad Boys, this is a film brimming with violence. But Rebel never uses violence to entertain, rather aiming to shock the audience or to underline or accentuate a point.
Rebel focuses on the Wasakis, a Belgian family with Moroccan roots. Kamal (Aboubakr Bensaihi) is the older brother, an idealistic drug dealer and rapper horrified by the atrocities he sees in the ongoing war in Syria. His younger brother Nassim is kind and impressionable. Devout matriarch Leila tries to watch over her boys. When Kamal travels to Syria as a volunteer, he believes he has found a non-violent way to make a difference. When he is captured by ISIS, he finds a different path forced upon him, one that will have also cause devastating effects back home.
Kamal’s passion for rapping also provides one of the film’s most interesting elements – at times, the characters will break into musical interludes. Given the serious tone of the film, these moments could easily appear forced or interrupt the flow of the narrative. Luckily, Bensaihi’s talented flow and consistently gorgeous choreography keep this from occurring. The first such interlude, set in a Brussels’ restaurant, is particularly powerful.
The cast is phenomenal. Focusing on our leading lady, Carmen Madonia, gives Renata an often aloof attitude, hiding a lost mindset. She’s soft-spoken, outwardly feeling othered by her sister’s personality. But little is said. Madonia’s face replaces any unneeded dialogue.
As dementia sets in, Yohji’s arc proves devastating to witness. The story also unravels the piles of notes strewn about Yohji’s home. Takashi must piece together this collection of garbled messages, love letters, and diary entries.
Yutaka Yamazaki‘s cinematography is memorable. There is something special about letting the camera be static and allowing the performances to speak for themselves. The script surprises with every scene, which is quite a feat for a two-and-a-half-hour runtime. GREAT ABSENCE is a nuanced look at memory, perception, regret, and the endless complexities within relationships. This film will bring you to your knees.
The film consists of informal sit-down interviews, extensive personal writings, archival footage, and plenty of home videos of the generations of strong women in the family. We discover the hurt from Hiam’s past, the emotional baggage of leaving behind the turmoil of Palestine, but also the treasured connections of the women who shaped her. Hiam’s letters and poems serve as both insight and narration. They are intensely affecting. 
Hiam and her family love one another with their whole hearts. They have no filters when speaking to each other, and their words of affirmation are something to aspire to. Lina Soualem captures all of this in an elegant edit. The film is beautifully intimate. It’s a loving commentary on memory, identity, and honoring your past.
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. 
I was shocked to discover that Max Pelayo and Reese Gonzales are first-time leads. They are two of the most natural talents I’ve ever seen onscreen. Their chemistry feels wholly organic. Each brings a raw vulnerability that’s touching and visceral. No doubt their experiences send you back to your awkward teenage years. Their unrestrained frankness is palpable. Pelayo and Gonzales are undeniable stars. 
The script’s structure is in three distinct acts. The first has Dante and Ari become friends. The second finds Ari and Dante writing letters to one another as Dante and his family have moved to Chicago for the year. We follow Ari’s social and emotional adjustments during this time as he comes to terms with his feelings. We also hear Pelayo and Gonzales’ voiceover acting as they read each letter. It’s a moving choice. Act three sees the return of Dante and the repercussions of living your authentic self. 
Director Aitch Alberto‘s ability to capture the truth in these experiences makes me want to run out and read the source material from Benjamin Alire Sáenz. Lin-Manual Miranda, inspired by Alberto’s screenplay after narrating the audiobook, felt compelled to hop on board as a producer. His stamp of approval carries a lot of legitimate weight. 
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.
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