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by George Wolf

Back in 2019, Andrew Patterson’s debut feature The Vast of Night was a welcome surprise. Meticulously crafted with a detailed throwback vibe and some snappy dialog, it got me excited for what Patterson had in store.

We finally get his second feature with The Rivals of Amziah King, and once again, I am charmed.

His timeline shifts to present day, and the setting moves from New Mexico to Oklahoma for an adventure filled with rousing roots music, the basics of beekeeping, a Southern Gothic mystery and one clever plan for revenge.

Matthew McConaughey is electric as Amziah King, a rural beekeeper, musician and all around character who’s asked to help find the rightful owner of twenty barrels full of stolen honey. But after some absurdist violence, a reconnection with his former foster daughter Kateri (Angelina LookingGlass in a captivating debut) and a memorable pot luck/jam session, King finds his own bee colony has been lifted.

Kateri’s affection for King as a father figure has never wavered over their years apart, and she commits herself to payback for the guilty party. And she’s pretty sure the trail will lead right to local tycoon Dob McCoy (Kurt Russell).

Patterson has a delightfully unique brand of storytelling, one that retains a youthful innocence no matter what adult themes are being juggled. His wordplay is fresh and often deadpan funny, and his camera can oscillate between fluidity and bits of slo-motion for effect.

Two films in, it’s clear Patterson is a skilled world-builder. And here, that world is a small Oklahoma community with many interconnected parts and memorable personalities. The parallels that Patterson draws with bee colonies are clear but not force-fed, and his wonderfully eclectic ensemble makes it a kick to follow them around.

Patterson seems to be enjoying the bigger canvas for his second film, with a few strands of excess and a 130-minute run time that does get a tad bloated when we reach some odes to Huck Finn in Act III. But it always feels in service of a big swing and a committed vision, and that will always bee easy to forgive.

Yes, bee.

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by Rachel Willis

Do you remember what it’s like to be in high school and to be desperately in love with someone who doesn’t see you that way? Writer/director Michael Walker and his co-writer Susan Gomes sure do. What’s even better about their film The Legend of Juan Jose Mundo is that they remember being young and in love in the glamorous 1980s.

High school junior Julie (Anna Miroden) is upset when she finds out the Spanish exchange student she was expecting is being replaced by a boy named Juan (Alexandro Byrd). It’s not too hard to anticipate that Julie’s discomfort will give way to youthful lust. But of course, as easy as she seems to hit it off with Juan, he only has eyes for seemingly every other girl in school.

The formula might be familiar, but the film itself is a gem. Miroden is the perfect every girl. She’s the ideal balance of cute and insecure. Even when boys do like her, she freezes before anything can happen. She also has the conundrum of wanting the boys to like her, but only the “right” boys. When those boys don’t like her, it feels like none of them do, even when several show her how untrue that is.

As a perfect mirror to Julie’s insecurity, Juan is the model of confidence. He flirts and hooks up with countless girls. His legend grows within the school, and even Julie’s best friend Suzanne (a fantastic Hannah Kepple) is swept up in his wake.

But despite any mistakes or poor decisions the characters make, it’s impossible not to like them. Each one brings a level of realism that has you rooting for them to make better choices and figure out how to navigate the choppy waters of adolescence. There isn’t a dud among the cast, and the writing gives even ancillary characters enough to bring them to life.

This film has a lot of heart and puts many teen comedies from the 80s to shame.

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by Hope Madden

There is a sweet, delightfully messy coming-of-age film at the heart of director Julia Hart’s Don’t Say Good Luck.

As high school sophomore Sophie (Sunny Sandler) nervously auditions for the school musical, navigating friendship and crush and theatrical nerves, her relationship with her mom takes a hit. What’s refreshing about Don’t Say Good Luck is that each of Sophie’s high school sources of angst takes a back seat to her issues with her mom, rather than vice versa.

In your average John Hughes film, troubles at home are the backdrop for our plucky teen hero. Hart, who co-wrote the script with Laura Hankin and Jordan Horowitz, reframes priorities. The film is about Sophie and her mom (Melanie Lynskey).

Hart goes so far as to soften the villainous stereotypes Hughes trained us to expect. By rounding out the more minor characters and refocusing attention away from high school angst and toward family relationships, Don’t Say Good Luck abandons the age-old trope that teens are on their own, their parents just don’t understand.

It’s nice. Beyond that, it’s often moving.

Lynskey is characteristically wonderful, and she and Max Greenfield present a very natural, endearing, weary bond as parents going through something tragic. The chaos of their lives—a busy high schooler, twin boys, a deli they co-own where they both work—feels lived in.

Add, in minor supporting roles, the great Bebe Neuwirth and Steve Buscemi, and you’re looking at an impressive ensemble, ostensibly there to buoy Sandler, whose father and mother (Adam and Jackie Sandler) produce.

Sunny Sandler does a fine job in the spotlight. She’s fine, like her sister Sadie Sandler was fine in Roommates. She’s probably not strong enough to anchor this film, but she doesn’t sink it, either.

Still, there’s a refreshing untidiness about Don’t Say Good Luck that keeps you off kilter and helps the climax hit harder. The film lacks cynicism, believes teenage girls do dumb things but are not dumb people, and sees depth where other films choose not to. It’s an enjoyable high school dramedy, and one that acknowledges its audience’s humanity.

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by George Wolf

Union County is an absolutely stunning feature debut from writer/director Adam Meeks. Expanding his short from 2020, Meeks delivers a film that feels like a persistent memory, one with a deceptively subtle grip not easy to shake.

Gripping performances from Will Poulter and Noah Centineo blend seamlessly with a supporting cast of predominantly non-professional actors, imbedding us within a rural Ohio community struggling to escape the opioid epidemic.

Cody Parsons (Poulter) and his brother Jack (Centineo) are both addicts, but they navigate the court-mandated drug rehabilitation program is strikingly different ways. Jack is upbeat and smiley, charming girls at a local bonfire with an aura of positivity. But Cody, from his first day in the 18-month program, is reserved and quietly intense.

The heart and soul of the recovery program – and of the film – is Annette (Annette Deao). She is a tireless anchor of hope for the addicts, picking up the phone at all hours and absorbing their anger and frustration with the patience of a sage who knows there can be better days ahead.

Meeks, an Ohio native, goes straight to the frontlines of this national crisis, but he is careful to show us more than the grim, barren landscapes that so often characterize the Midwest. From the blooming of greenery to the changes in wardrobe to the rebuilding of a wrecked car, Meeks finds understated metaphors that gracefully mirror the journeys in play. His pace is led by a compassion that never wavers, no matter the tragedy or roadblock.

Poulter, who has been compiling a litany of standout performances since his teens, has never been better. We feel Cody’s struggle even in his quietest moments. And when he finally allows himself enough joy to smile, Poulter makes it a moment of internalized triumph. It’s a towering, award-worthy performance.

With more limited screen time, Centineo finds the wayward, fractured heart of a man whose more frequent moments of celebration may be misplaced, given the never-ending road he’s traveling. Jack is the loose family cannon, but Centineo makes his relationship with Cody, and their cautious sister Kat (Emily Meade, also terrific), both sympathetic and heartbreaking. 

And Deao? She’s a revelation. As a fictionalized version of herself, Annette (who did study acting years before her current career) consistently grounds the film with the unwavering commitment to all those – like herself – who are a daily lifeline for their community members just struggling to see another one. One of the film’s most pivotal moments comes from Deao’s real experience in the program, and it’s just one reminder of the life-and-death work being done in these American trenches every single day. 

The struggle is indeed real, in rural Ohio and so many other areas like it. But the hope, the humanity and the steps forward are equally real. Union County doesn’t rest until you feel every bit of all of it, and feel thankful for the time you spent here. 

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by Hope Madden

Horror owes Ireland a huge debt for vampires. Yes, basically every culture and nationality has a vampire myth, but Ireland gave us Dracula and Carmilla. Remmick is the coolest vampire to come along in decades. But those bloodsuckers are predated by some millennia by the Dearg Due, Ireland’s first vampire, who finally gets her cinematic due in Marco van Belle’s indie horror, Feed.

It’s been a year since Orla’s (Grace Collender) tragedy. Her influencer/bestie Nessa (Daisy Jelley) is sure that a week away in a remote Irish cottage will help bring Orla out of her depression, and if Nessa can take advantage of the beautiful spot for some posts, all the better.

This is essentially a cabin-in-the-woods horror, isolating five attractive young people of mixed gender in a natural, even primeval, setting.

Is it a tired set up? It is. Do filmmakers drag it out time and time again because it’s effective? Also yes. Locals are spooky, there’s no phone service, characters are out of their element, and a natural evil is disturbed.

An early-film flashback gives us a sense of what that evil is, but van Belle could mine the mythology more effectively. It would have more effectively set Feed apart from other films. Instead, we spend most of our time inside the cabin with the more predictable storyline.

The cast does a fine job of finding characters hiding in these fairly typical characters. Jelley is the most hamstrung as the vain best friend and failing influencer, but Clinton Liberty, as Orla’s boyfriend, struggles with the film’s most underwritten character.

Collender’s solid and both Rhys Mannion and Oskar Smith find nuance and personality for their characters. Naimh Hogan’s central villain has come cool trickery, but her presence lacks real terror. Charlotte Bradley, on the other hand, is effortlessly frightening as the innkeeper who’d rather keep the vampire.

It’s a good looking movie and van Belle uses the tools of the influencer within the vampire myth well. He just doesn’t break out of routine often enough to make Feed particularly memorable.  

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by Hope Madden

Writer/director Brock Bodell’s Hellcat keeps you guessing and intrigued with a tight premise, two locations, and a cast you can count on one hand.

Dakota Gorman is Lena, and she’s not having a good time. She’s awake, her head is spinning, her stomach is not right, and she’s moving. Unsure of how she got here, Lena’s in an Airstream, rolling down a highway to God-knows-where.

For the majority of Hellcat’s 91-minute runtime, Gorman is alone to throw fits, connive, sleuth, convulse, and rebel inside that camper. Physically alone, anyway. Over a sound system rigged to the pick-up hauling the thing is the voice of Clive (Todd Terry). Clive wants Lena to stay calm and stop busting up his home until he can get her to a doctor. She’s been infected, he says.

It’s a clever but simple premise, and the tensions and questions are mined well. Lena is quite sure she’s been drugged and kidnapped. Bodell drops well-timed hints and clues to keep you leaning one direction and then the other. Evidence suggests that Clive is not what he says he is, although there’s still some proof that maybe he’s not a villainous liar. It’s tough to know.

Gorman’s physical performance is impressive and grueling. She gives Lena a savvy, angry edge that makes you believe she’ll find or fight her way out of this.

Likewise, Terry makes you want to believe Clive.

The long, lonesome highway allows for some clever attempts at escape, and given your conflicting loyalties throughout, Bodell is not afraid to twist the knife.

As we head into the third act, things get a little contrived but weirdly, entertainingly so. The full backstory/mythology is never entirely articulated, which is a bit convenient given the direction things take. And the practical FX are slightly hokey.

But on the whole, Hellcat is lean, mean, and effective.  

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by Hope Madden

Is a horror film writer’s imagination creating real life carnage? Writer/director Spider One (Little Bites) asks the question in his latest, Big Baby.

Brandon Scott is Adam, an insecure but successful horror screenwriter who opens the film by listening to two dumbasses with a podcast say his latest movie is so bad that he should kill himself.

The point is not whether the movie is bad. The point is that Adam continues to listen. Then to stew and brood, even though his girlfriend Kate (Krsy Fox) reminds him that he’s too good to be bothered by these idiots. He’s kind of being a big baby.

Cue the nightmares: a hulking brute in a crying baby mask axes Kate in half. And the only way Adam knows to deal with this nightmare…and the others…and the waking hallucinations…is to write a script about it.

Spider One takes advantage of Scott’s genuine talent to anchor a film with a lot of insights and jabs. When you write horror, people forever wonder what’s wrong with you. Big Baby digs into this, as characters in Adam’s script show up in his life begging for theirs. He can change their fate. He has the control.

It’s kind of a cross between In the Mouth of Madness and Stranger Than Fiction with the baby mask from Happy Death Day thrown in for good measure. And it’s often fun and more often compelling, again due mainly to Scott’s committed performance.

Fox turns in solid support in a part that generates the film’s real tension as Big Baby nudges toward toxic behavior and domestic abuse. Things get sloppy once the film focuses more deliberately on what it is that Adam’s writing.

Had the script’s story tied into the core story in any way, the final product could have been quite rich. Instead, we get a series of non sequitur murders. While the tension outside Adam’s script amps to a spectacular, yell-at-the-screen level, the parallel story within the script Adam’s writing squanders that energy.

The result is curiously unsatisfying. Even as Big Baby leaves room for sequels, we’ve lost interest in the tale it’s telling.

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