Author: Mark Goodyear

Exploring the spaces between cultures is one of the most significant roles of cinema today. Whenever a film manages to investigate new and underexplored cultural clashes, it is an achievement worth celebrating. Director Erika Davis-Marsh has found one such clash with her short film “CODA” (Child of Deaf Adults). 

All her life, Alex (Kerrynton Jones) has found herself stuck between two worlds. The first being the world of those who can hear, the second being the world of her parents (CJ Jones and Antoinette Abbamonte), those who cannot hear. She is a CODA, and as she grows up, it leaves her conflicted when finding her place within each world. As she falls behind in her dance class due to the mental distraction, she meets Josh (Ryan Lane), a deaf man whom she begins to fall for romantically.

Alex lies to Josh and pretends to be deaf to fit into this world which has surrounded her all her life, but when Josh finds out the truth, it rejects her for the fair and straightforward reason that she can hear. Feeling betrayed, Josh tells her just to be herself; the problem is, Alex does not know who she is. This leads to her distancing herself from both worlds, leaving her alone. 

Alex practises dance at a dancing school but is under the pressure of possibly being kicked out if she fails to choreograph an acceptable dance for her final exam. Lost in all other aspects of life, Alex needs to find it within herself to express her emotions through dance, and dance she does. Utilising aspects of sign Language in her movements, Alex manages to capture her turmoil and express it to her parents and Josh.

The dance was the perfect decision to tell this story; it encapsulates the space between hearing and the deaf communities brilliantly. Seeing her parents so proud of their daughter at the end was as touching as any film moment I have seen all year and generating that in the 22-minute runtime is incredible. 

The cinematography sings on the screen with how it captures the blurred lines in Alex’s world. The frames slow down, and everything is just a little bit more visceral and absorbing. Moreover, the performance from Kerrynton Jones is movingly heartfelt and casting three deaf actors in the deaf roles is praiseworthy and enhanced the message. The delicate direction by Erika Davis-Marsh is also excellent.

For short films, there must be hardly any wasted seconds, for this one even more so due to the unique story “CODA” is telling. I am happy to report that in this aspect “CODA” excels. Not only are no seconds wasted, but the film also makes sure throughout that the hearing impaired can experience Alex’s story too, thanks to the use of closed captions appearing in every screening, which is a nice touch. 

When investigating the space between cultures, it is vital to know precisely what you are trying to say, and “CODA” does just that. With touching performances and a heart-warming ending, this short film becomes a fine watch. 

“The Price for Silence” is an independent film telling us the story of the Flynn family. Through the eyes of Kira Flynn (Lynn Mancinelli), who is returning home for her father’s funeral after an extended absence, we become witnesses to the atrocities caused by her family, as well those that they must face together. Estranged from her mother Shelia (Kristin Carey), Kira is stuck fighting alcoholism and apparent nymphomania with only her troubled brother Lucas (Emrhys Cooper) to confide in. Along the way, we find out what left Kira so unstable as all her remaining connections to sanity begin to fade.

“The Price for Silence” is not an easy watch. From the second we are introduced to Kira she is deeply damaged. She lies in bed with a woman whose name she cannot remember and spasms as she has a nightmare. Her state does not improve from this point. No explanation of Kira’s mental health is given to us until late on. We do not know why she distances herself from her mother, or why she is so prone to self-destruction. As such Kira to us is a very disturbed woman, whom we can only infer has faced something incredibly dark in her past that saw her remain away from home for so long.

This early portion of the picture has its issues. The film presents so much to us so quickly that it becomes a challenge to keep up. This makes the entire movie from the opening onwards feel as if it would have played better as a miniseries. The meagre budget clarifies why this would never be possible, but had it happened the story would have benefited. As a result, the pacing feels uneven, and constant allusions to Kira’s tragedy without a reveal is occasionally frustrating. 

Forming authentic relationships within the family was imperative, and thankfully, that happens early on and steadies the ship slightly. Brother/sister relationships can be challenging to depict in the simplest of situations, here it must be done with a backdrop of mental distortion, and it still manages to work more consistently than any other aspect of the film. Lucas and Kira are rocks for each other throughout and work hard to help one another overcome their issues. If there is anything to be gained from “The Price for Silence” it is a reminder to have someone you can talk to and rely upon when you begin to struggle. 

Unfortunately, their relationship dissolves in the final third of the film. From this point on “The Price for Silence” diverts fully into its worst tendencies. There is a new crisis behind every corner and it becomes entirely melodramatic. I wanted to empathise with these characters, but they entirely lost touch with reality and left me in no position to follow. Any emotional impact that begins to set in is demolished when an entirely new situation arises and drowns everything else out. It is impossible to understand what writer/director Tony Germinario was trying to accomplish here. The film is rocky all the way through but the bones to say something with this story were there. However, the narrative twists so much everything it had going for it is lost in the process, leaving it void of any meaningful message or insight.

The antagonists and cause of almost all the heartbreak are the vile father and son Richard (Richard Thomas) and Aiden Davenport (Jon McCormick), and it is these two which encompass the most prominent problem. Their performances are not the issue, each of theirs is two of the stronger in the film; it is how Germinario presents them to us. The most significant revelation is that Aiden perpetrated the most critical and vile act of all, that being what happened to Kira years ago. However, Richard plays the more classical role of the ‘villain’ with Aiden taking more of a side role. More than once, Germinario attempts to generate sympathy for Aiden in what are some of the most confounding scenes I have viewed all year.

Richard is a severely immoral and cruel person, but Aiden’s actions and approaches towards Kira throughout are so depraved that there was nothing to be gained by presenting him this way. He is a far more disturbing individual than his father, yet the film tries to tell us otherwise and provides no justification. There is nothing remotely likeable or relatable about Aiden Davenport, and Germinario acts like he does not know his character when being empathetic towards him. This depiction is a giant misstep that hurts the venture more than anything else.

I want to stress that the performances are respectable. None are entirely consistent, but in certain moments they manage to capture the grotesque mental toll grief can have on you under the bleakest circumstances. Mancinelli and Cooper are standouts. Both have moments where they consume the screen and try their hardest to draw empathy from the audience. The over the top theatrics does make for some missteps, but the cast avoids any significant pitfalls and carries it as best they can. Above all else, Germinario’s script is where “The Price for Silence” goes wrong; the performances are just its most notable victim. 

Despite good intentions “The Price for Silence” is ultimately a melodramatic misstep for director Tony Germinario. A plethora of catastrophe means there is no time left to allow for any emotional exploration of the impact. If Germinario is fortunate enough to have the chance to direct another feature, I hope he manages to capture his vision more vividly than he has here.

“Booksmart” takes us into the lives of best friends Amy (Kaitlyn Dever) and Molly (Beanie Feldstein) as they find themselves, on the eve of their high school graduation, having to face a monumental crisis of their adolescence. They have come to the rude awakening that, despite all their hard work and academic application, many of their year group, who appeared only to party and disregard school, were going onto collages and positions just as good as theirs. Molly, realising tonight is their final chance to live what they have squandered, convinces Amy to attend their first and last high school party together. The two then firmly grasp the curtails of their youth and journey through discovery on both a personal level and together as friends.

With only a fundamental knowledge of key moments of self-discovery, for instance, love and heartbreak, Amy and Molly are forced to experience them before our eyes. As they do, it changes them, at their core, they are the same smart and strong characters introduced to us, but now they have exponentially grown emotionally. They realise they have deeply held misconceptions of their cohort and each other.

They viewed them solely through distasteful eyes, with Molly, in particular, looking down on them. It is the resolutions which come from recognising their peers are much deeper people that is really what the story is all about, and it is wonderful. This story is the major strength of “Booksmart”, it has all the stereotype subversion of “The Breakfast Club” and combines it with all the modern hilarity of “Superbad”. This combo will see “Booksmart” go on to be the hallmark of a generation and will stand as the perfect encapsulation of what so many teens are experiencing right now.

The four screenwriters for “Booksmart”, Emily Halpern, Sarah Haskins, Susanna Fogel and Katie Silberman, have written a pitch-perfect script that is hilarious, heartbreaking and uplifting all the way through. It is one of the finest articulations of growing up to be released this decade. Amy and Molly learn about themselves in a quickfire, often over the top manner, which proved to be the best way to go about capturing the numerous valuable experiences they missed out on.

This direction allows the film to play as a checklist of awkward and hilarious teenaged moments, yet crucially it never loses touch with the overarching story it is creating. The basics of the experience may be familiar, but with its stirring cast of endearing characters “Booksmart” feels profoundly original. It also must be said that the depiction of friendship here is beautiful in its complexity. Various characters intertwine in unique and heartfelt ways that form a thoroughly empathetic experience. It has been done countless times before, but this reminder to not judge a book by its cover is one of the best.

Dever and Feldstein were the ideal choices to be the stars of this film. They come into “Booksmart” as blank canvases and flourish under the weight of the narrative. Both dazzle in their approach in capturing this growth of their characters, and it is their realistic depiction of the trials of being 18 that make this movie as mesmerising as it is in its best moments. From heartbreak to euphoria each of them nails it, with neither missing a beat transitioning from the comedic first half to the dramatic and heartfelt finale. These performances are good enough to launch their careers even further, and I have no doubt we will be seeing more of them very soon. 

The rest of the ensemble are also shining lights, with the whimsical Billy Lourd as “Gigi” and the hilariously dorky Skyler Gisondo as “Jared” both being standouts in what is a flawlessly cast movie. Without these side characters providing such a vivid depiction of experiencing high school ‘properly’ than “Booksmart” would not work on any level as Amy and Molly would not be able to learn anything believably. It is no easy task to capture what can be such a personal experience, but every actor involved delivers an authentic and hilarious performance that will well and truly stand the test of time. 

None of this would be possible without Olivia Wilde, who has made the most of her directorial debut. Her eye for capturing her stars in their moments of emotional evolution is stunning. During the second half, “Booksmart” delivers a breathtaking depiction of sexuality and relationships within the context of one final party. The atmosphere in this portion of the film, as well as the sheer amount of emotion poured into it, is mesmerising. It is the most poignant portion of the film with the most to say, and Wilde goes on to generate moments where it is simply impossible to take your eyes off the screen.

Her aptitude for capturing teenaged emotions already rivals the greats of the genre, and I say this without a hint of doubt. Wherever she goes from here and whatever stories she chooses to tell, I hope people will be there to listen, because Wilde’s is a cinematic voice that needs to be heard. 

“Booksmart” is an intoxicating testament to youth that will serve as the moment Kaitlyn Dever and Beanie Feldstein got their names placed firmly on the map. Alongside this, it is also an auspicious directorial debut for Olivia Wilde. Altogether it becomes clear that “Booksmart” has all the potential to become a modern classic.

Many films revolving around loneliness are so often dark and twisted, with many depicting someone experiencing this prevalent human feeling as partially psychotic. This approach has made for some classic movies but presents a fantastical narrative about loneliness, one that fails to translate into reality accurately. John Butler’s “Papi Chulo” takes us away from this to somewhere refreshingly new.

Set in ever sunny Los Angles, we follow TV weatherman Sean (Matt Bomer) who, after a bad break up and being forced to take time off work, finds himself almost entirely alone within his hillside home. After getting rid of a tree left by his ex-boyfriend on the deck, it quickly becomes apparent that the entire space needs repainting. Knowing he cannot do it himself, Sean hires Ernesto (Alejandro Patiño), a 50-year-old Latino family man to paint it for him. Desperately needing a friend, Sean goes on to ignore the need to repaint and begins paying Ernesto to travel around LA with him in order to help cope with his loneliness.

There is a moment in “Papi Chulo” where the two leads talk about how marriage, and relationships in general, are like Ernesto’s estimate for how long it will take to paint the deck, they take more than one day. This scene takes place on a hiking trail in LA where the city looks beautiful below them, and Ernesto is struck by it all, especially since he is paid to be here. As they talk, Sean can only half understand Ernesto due to the language barrier, yet we can tell that the wisdom the older man is granting him is making it through by transcending their cultural differences.

All of this together makes for a poignant scene that perfectly encompasses Butler’s script. At points, it is a comedic look at culture shock, but at its core, it is about Sean, a lonely man who needs a friend, and in this moment, he begins to find one. 

In his depiction of loneliness, Butler has formed it as an unassuming cruel wave we see wash over Sean throughout and slowly wears him down to his lowest. It is a wonderfully human take on feeling alone, one which allows for Sean to genuinely grow as a person and does not leave him emotionally stunted. Yes, it may be altogether simplistic that all Sean needs to ‘cure’ his loneliness is a new friend, but the charm between the pair makes it believable and satisfying. Dehumanising Sean in order to make the story more elaborate would have been a disaster, he is not that kind of character, nor would any character like that suit this setting. Rather, he is a troubled man haunted by his past relationships, and this film’s biggest strength is that it says feeling this way is okay.

Boomer and Patiño are brilliant together. They make for an instantly entertaining mismatched duo, one that charms throughout as their friendship grows. Boomer delivers a surprisingly powerful performance, managing to break off from the comedy in an instant and go deep into the drama of loneliness. At times it is stunning how well he displays Sean’s distress and particularly how he manages to make it convincingly worsen. In the emotionally intense final 20 minutes, he shines even brighter and makes himself well worthy of praise.

Alongside him, Patiño makes for the perfect partner. His performance required him to hit a very different pitch, and he nails it. There is no real conflict within the Ernesto character; he thought he was getting paid to paint a deck but was dragged along this journey instead. So with this performance, it is the kindness he illustrates, as well as the few moments of wonder he captures just by gazing around the sights he has never seen before, that are the most potent aspects and see Patiño underplay himself to an excellent performance. Together they firm themselves as the heart and soul of this story, which was crucial to get right for everything to work as well as it does.

Anything set in LA always has an inherently picturesque vibe to it. “Papi Chulo” is no different, with it using the constant sunshine to bask its characters in something otherworldly. There is a strange conflict that arises seeing Sean be so troubled yet continuously bathed in sunshine. For the most part, it makes for a significant affirmation telling us anyone can be lonely, even the wealthy weatherman on TV. Outside of this, it does not do much for the story, and at times can be slightly jarring.

However, all in all, Cinematographer Cathal Watters has done a reliable job capturing the famous city, even managing to briefly capture it in the rain for some gorgeous shots. It is a view of LA we have seen many times before yet still feels ageless, which is a testament to everyone who pulls it off. Above all else, Watters and Butler did not try to re-invent the wheel from their side of the camera, and it worked actively in their favour in this instance. Sometimes a beautiful city is enough, and they knew it was here. 

“Papi Chulo” is a charming, well-acted film about a lonely man and the only person he could find to be his friend. The refreshing depiction of feeling alone may not break as much new ground as it could have, but it makes for a pleasantly heart-warming ride.

Our Time Review 

The complex nature of love is a topic that has been subject to investigation over millenniums. There can be no correct answer as to how the emotion of love forms but through the investigation we can, at the very least, come to comprehend its size, scope and most importantly, its ability to change. One such investigation is Carlos Reygadas’ 2018 marital epic “Our Time”. Here the auteur tells the story of Juan (Carlos Reygadas) and his wife Esther (Natalia López) as their love slowly begins to fall apart, as a result of Esther’s affair with American horse trainer Phil (Phil Burgers). Despite their open marriage, Juan and Esther find themselves on the brink of collapse as Esther comes to realise that she intensely craves more independence both sexually and domestically.

From its first shot till its last “Our Time” plays like visual poetry. Reygadas has a spectacular eye for the sublime and has worked wonders with cinematographers Adrian Durazo and Diego García. Reminiscent of Terrence Malick, this movie says just as much with the camera as the characters do with dialogue and it is a force that is impossible to ignore. The sheer amount of emphasis provided by the shots is outstanding, developing the perfect platform for the actors as they emotionally shrivel before our eyes. At times the sheer art of it all does get carried away; some shots linger just a bit too long, and others do not add much to the narrative. I would be lying if I said that I was not struck by impatience at times; at points, it felt as if individual shots took priority over the story in the editing process. Despite this, there is no arguing against the fact that it is entirely masterful cinematography. 

The performances here are well worth applauding. The real-life husband and wife are both in top form with their starring performances. Here López and Reygadas provide realistic and emotion-laden turns that capture the turmoil throughout the film perfectly. Their work is even more stunning upon realising that neither of them is a professional actor, with this being the feature debut for López and only the second credited role for Reygadas. Their ability to convincingly portray a married couple is, to an extent, understandable. The real skill in both performances lies in the fact that they could so convincingly have their characters’ marriage fall apart on screen, especially at the sluggish pace the movie travels. 

Their marriage is in a slow decline, one that analyses every bump in its long road and searches it for meaning. For a long period throughout the 173-minute runtime, Esther proclaims her love for Juan. All the while, she slowly realises the truth within herself that the force behind their love is no longer there. This level of depth and scale would be a difficult task for the most seasoned actors, so to see two non-actors pull it off as well as they did is astounding. 

The script is one that finds conflict within itself and never manages to unravel it to the audience. Opting to play primarily from Juan’s perspective leaves the message stunted and less accessible. Esther’s inner conflict is the heart of this movie, and yet she is not the heart of the screen and in this sense, Reygadas has contradicted himself. Instead, Juan, his emotional reactions and self-evaluation are the heart of the film, and this makes certain portions come across as hollow and at times, even needless. These moments lack the input of Esther, it is her feelings that are the beginning and end of this conflict, and through focusing on Juan, the philosophical insight that Reygadas attempts to generate fails to flourish. 

However, Juan does take us through some compelling and engaging moments. One being when Juan insists Esther sleeps with Phil so that he can spy on them in bed together, allowing him to see who she truly loves. It is a scene filled with Juan’s demons and is one of the few moments he can encapsulate the film’s struggle. Overall his perspective makes for a screenplay that, at its worst is a frustrating tale of the man who does not have much to say about the emotional distortion that fuels the film, while at its best is a new and unique look at the depths of masculinity amid emotional crisis. 

It may run long but to the right audience “Our Time” is well worth the watch. Mixing idyllic beauty with tumultuous romance makes for wonderous viewing, and although prone to getting lost within itself and lacking enough perspective to investigate love clearly, Carlos Reygadas has created something too beautiful to write off.