Tribeca Film Festival 2026 Review: “Bang My Box: The Robin Byrd Story”
By Morgan Roberts
Directors: Jyllian Gunther and Stephanie Schwam
Runtime: 79 minutes
Year: 2026
“Bang My Box: The Robin Byrd Story” tells the true story of one larger-than-life woman who became a prominent figure in public television. In the documentary by Jyllian Gunther and Stephanie Schwam, audiences are introduced to the gay icon and anti-censorship activist in her home, riffling through her library of tapes. Each tape contains the legacy of her career: The Robin Byrd Show. With a magnetic personality, it was not wonder she found herself performing for a living. After a difficult childhood following the death of her adoptive father, Byrd set out into NYC. She attended art school and in order to earn some money, she began modeling nude for various classes. Eventually, Byrd found herself starring in adult films - most famously, “Debbie Does Dallas.” Soon, Byrd found herself guest-appearing on the NYC public access show, “Hot Legs.” In 1977, Byrd used “Hot Legs” and rebranded it as “The Robin Byrd Show.” The show had a variety of performers, largely individuals in sex work, and it was hosted, directed, and produced by Byrd. In her crocheted black bikini, Byrd became a hit gathering a fan base which included celebrities like Barry Manilow and Sandra Bernhard. Her show was sex-positive, which was revelatory during the post-sexual revolution pendulum swing toward social conservatism and the Reagan administration.
Her sex-positive approach soon became another form of advocacy during the AIDS crisis. She had a large following of gay fans - Byrdwatchers, as they called themselves. For many, her normalization of safe sex practices helped them prioritize their sexual health. Moreover, some members of the community retreated. In their isolation, Byrd became a source of solace. That was almost taken away in the early 1990s when the FCC included Byrd and other queer and sex positive programming as obscene, threatening to cancel them. This was another conservative American attempt to “save the children” - God forbid they address hunger, homelessness, and healthcare, but I digress. Byrd rallied her community to combat the FCC censorship attempts and won.
Robin Byrd for “Bang My Box: The Robin Byrd Story” | HBO
By this point in time, I’m sure you’re assuming I have now given away every bit of information about this film and its central subject. But, I’m merely scratching the surface. In thinking about the film and Byrd’s life story, it is almost too fantastical with all she accomplished. And yet, she touched every corner of counterculture and showcased it far and wide. So, how have I never heard of Byrd? I have faint recollections of the Cheri Oteri impression, pretending to be asleep as my dad watched “Saturday Night Live.” Outside of that blip, nothing. But, without Byrd, fundamental rights would have been dismantled. Without her, who would have led a safe sex campaign during the height of the AIDS epidemic. You may not know her name, but in some way, you’ve been apart of the ripple effect of her work and advocacy.
With “Bang My Box: The Robin Byrd Story,” audiences are introduced - or re-introduced - to the iconic personality. You see her larger than life in archival footage, but the film has interviews and follows Byrd in her day to day. You see her navigate caregiving for her husband who has dementia. You see her both reconcile with and accept aging. We see her try to preserve her legacy through archiving her extensive work. The documentary employs both expository and vérité styles of filmmaking, and it is blended seamlessly by editor Jeremy Stulberg. The way the film effortlessly weaves through these styles not only makes it stand out in a technical manner, but I think highlights Byrd as a film subject who does not neatly fit into a specific mold. Byrd spent much of her lift in front of the camera, but you can tell by how she talks about her work, she has long been used to being in control. After all, she was the one directing her own show, even directing on camera. Nevertheless, there is an openness and vulnerability we get from Byrd. Even in archival footage, you can tell she approaches life by being an open book. She is quite forthcoming with not only her escapades, but there is a real reflection on how she moved through the world affected people. You can only get those moments from a true connection between film subject and filmmaker - or in this case, filmmakers. It is not every day we are afforded the opportunity to truly take stock of what we achieved and who we impacted in life. Byrd not only gets that opportunity, but takes full advantage in her honest rumination.
“Bang My Box: The Robin Byrd Story” is not just an educational documentary, introducing Byrd to audiences who have faint memories at best of her work, while also showcasing the woman, the artist, the educator, the activist who forged her own path. The true epitome of a trailblazer. The film ends on a jovial and vulnerable note. It feels like the most fitting way to celebrate Byrd.
Grade: A+
Double Feature With: “All the Beauty and the Bloodshed” (2022) dir. Laura Poitras
Tribeca Film Festival 2026 Review: “Act One”
By Morgan Roberts
Director: Sophia Takal
Writer: Sophia Takal
Stars: Ella Beatty, Ari Graynor, Nate Mann, Elizabeth Reaser, Sinclair Daniel, Robert Sean Leonard, Tavi Gevinson
Runtime: 104 minutes
Year: 2026
“Act One” is a psychological thriller, coming-of-age film brilliantly explored through the lens of the acting world. Hannah (Ella Beatty) is a high school senior who lives and breathes acting. When she is not cast in her senior play, she seeks out an acting class and finds Act One, taught be the alluring Melanie (Ari Graynor). Soon, Act One becomes all-consuming for Hannah, much to the disapproval of her parents Julie (Elizabeth Reaser) and Tim (Robert Sean Leonard). Pulling Hannah into the orbit of the group is fellow actor Henry (Nate Mann). As Hannah becomes more enmeshed with Melanie, Henry, and the Act One troupe, the more she straddles the line between finding herself and losing herself.
Writer/director Sophia Takal has always had an astute eye for interpersonal dynamics, and how those can come into play (or be at odds) with our own understanding of self. For instance, with her second film, “Always Shine,” Takal examined two actresses, one successful, the other not-so-much, and how their friendship had devolved into a tenuous rivalry. Here, Takal has this central focus on Hannah, but we see her evolve through the relationships she invests in, as well as the relationships she pulls away from. As Hannah, Beatty has this well of interiority which draws you in as an audience. Hannah possesses an emotional intelligence that makes it easy to forget, at times, that she’s still in high school, and still has so much life ahead of her. And so when the film makes the decision to confront you with her age, you’re forced to stew in discomfort.
Melanie as a character is endlessly beguiling. If she wanted to start a proper cult, she absolutely could. Nevertheless, her allure is so understandable, not just for Hannah as an actor, but Hannah as a girl coming into womanhood. Hannah’s relationship with her family, particularly with her mother, is prickly. Early on, it is established that, despite the hard work Hannah has put into her craft, her mom doesn’t take that dedication seriously. So, when Melanie invites Hannah into this group, it plays into two things. First, it is an adult recognizing and validating her; something Hannah has been devoid of both at home and at school. Secondly, and I think quite significantly, Hannah is being seen and guided by a woman who isn’t her mother. There is something that happens to many girls and young women when they build a relationship with a woman older than them, particularly when their other relationship to draw comparison to is their thorny relationship with their mother.
Ari Graynor and Ella Beatty in “Act One”
While Hannah is who the audience sees the world through, you can’t help but notice the structures around her as well. You see the way her earnestness can be both nurtured and exploited. You see how the class is structured with the women reduced, as many women in the industry are, to “character actress” and “ingenue.” You also witness one character assert control, at times manipulate situations and other people. Not that acting or the arts are the only places you find these sorts of dynamics. But, Hannah reflects the best of actors. The people who understand that their job is to express the most human experiences and emotions. And to feel so deeply, some may take advantage of that vulnerability and innate empathy. Certainly, it is not the central focus of the film, but it does exude an air of dread as you witness Hannah navigating these complicated dynamics.
“Act One” also leans into the erotic thriller vein of the 1980s and 1990s. With its complex relationships paired with a young woman coming into her own sexuality, I couldn’t help but think about Roger Kumble’s 1999 “Cruel Intentions,” which was an important film personally during my formative years. Much like “Cruel Intentions” or “Wild Things,” “Act One” always has you second guessing who is in control, or even, who thinks they have the most control. But, unlike these films, what Takal manages to accomplish is this exploration through the lens of a teenage girl. The film is squarely focused on her experience, her understanding, and most importantly her growth. I also cannot overstate how brilliantly Beatty takes on Hannah’s full arc. There is a lot of interiority to her performance, and it is in the film’s final moments which highlight how far this character has gone.
Likewise, Graynor is simply magnetic as Melanie. You quickly understand her allure, and the atmosphere she can create. I don’t think I can envision anyone else embodying this bold force the way Graynor does. Her ability to be charming, domineering, nurturing, assertive all at a moment’s notice takes an actor who understands their character inside and out. The cast as a whole is pretty spectacular, and their performances feel quite lived in. Graynor embodies her character in the most exhilarating ways. Beatty has the trickiest task of bringing an interior subversive performance to life, and effortlessly sticks the landing. It is exciting to watch both of these actors in this film.
“Act One” is an audacious rollercoaster, oozing with style. Takal has largely worked in the horror/thriller space, and each time, she finds new ways to elevate the genre. With “Act One,” she has managed to craft a stylish film rich with flawless technicality and excellent performances.
Grade: A+
Double Feature With: “Forbidden Fruits” (2026) dir. Meredith Alloway
Tribeca Film Festival 2026 Review: “The Tropic Sun and His Eyes”
By Morgan Roberts
Director: Elisee Junior St Preux
Writer: Elisee Junior St Preux
Stars: Stevenson Jean, Blangue Machiny, Ulrick Remy
Runtime: 80 minutes
Year: 2026
Ruben (Stevenson Jean) is on a journey. Traveling on foot, Ruben traverses across Haiti to reconnect with his estranged father. Followed by a persistent street kid (Blangue Machiny), Ruben crosses the country with the boy on two conditions: help him find a shortcut and keep some distance. Through his voyage, Ruben traverses the Haitian landscape, reckoning with his path, reconnecting with his country, and walking forward into his future.
With “The Tropic Sun and His Eyes” filmmaker Elisee Junior St Preux makes a stunning feature film debut. The film is the first shot entirely in Haiti. There is a preconceived notion about the Caribbean country, with most American-centered cinema focused on the political and economic crises - without care or consideration of the nation’s rich (and at times difficult) history. St Preux uses his film as a conduit for audiences to be introduced to Haiti, its people, and its culture. We are able to witness the country and its landscape in all its wonder, thanks in part as well to the stunning cinematography by Dawit Adera.
Stevenson Jean and Blangue Machiny in “The Tropic Sun and His Eyes”
The film is also centered on this man’s journey. As Ruben walks closer to his estranged father, closer to his family, closer to his home, he is forced to reckon with not only the direct traumas of his life, but the inherited trauma from the generations before. His struggles with his own mental health are touched on, but are never heavy handed. Jean navigates Ruben’s emotions with great care. We are able to witness a man processes in real time his fear, his apprehensions, his loneliness. What I found most profound was this journey of a man starting to heal his own childhood wounds. We are able to see that through his interactions with the street kid, how he is first put off by this child, but soon grows to care for him, and, in turn, care for that reflection within himself.
Furthermore, “The Tropic Sun and His Eyes” explores masculinity in all of its complexity. Far too often, cinema focuses on the stereotypes associated with masculinity, giving great weight to them. The film interrogates and deconstructs those in truly thoughtful ways. It is not only through these powerful interactions between men, but we are able to witness that through Ruben opening himself up to the world. Moreover, when we are able to see Ruben reunite with his father, we witness something truly raw and impactful. “The Tropic Sun and His Eyes” is a rare look at masculinity, men’s mental health, and generational trauma all told tenderly in an intimate portrait of a film.
Grade: A-
Double Feature With: “Blue Heron” (2026) dir. Sophy Romvari
Tribeca Film Festival 2026 Review: “Summer War”
By Morgan Roberts
Director: Alicia Scherson
Writer: Alicia Scherson
Stars: Dan Beirne, Lux Pascal, Aline Küppenheim, David Gaete, Agustín Pardella
Runtime: 104 minutes
Year: 2026
Dan Beirne and David Gaete in “Summer War”
In Alicia Scherson’s latest film, “Summer War,” the precipice of change is explored in this historical drama. Udo (Dan Beirne) has returned to Chile as an adult just as the Pinochet regime is on the decline. He and his girlfriend Ingrid (Lux Pascal) are vacationing when a friend suddenly goes missing at sea. Occupying his time, Udo becomes overly invested in his tabletop war game, and invites a mysterious local to join him.
Akin to the political thrillers of the 1970s and early 1980s, “Summer War” has this air of tension, yet, it does not exist solely in the space of the geopolitics of the late-1980s. While a vital element of the film, there is also taut atmosphere built both by Udo’s general suspicions but also his growing obsession. His tabletop war game feels like an outlet for his hubris. It becomes all consuming that as the film progresses, it becomes the singular focus before you even realize it.
Nevertheless, unlike those political thrillers, the film manages to have life outside of this tense atmosphere. We get to see Udo and Ingrid on vacation - despite his frequent distractions. We are able to see Udo shoot his shot with various women, many times facing rejection, and going back to do it again. The cinematography by Alejo Maglio is impeccable. While it has a way of not only framing the region in its natural beauty, but it has the aesthetic of the political thrillers of the mid-1970s.
As someone unfamiliar with the source material by Roberto Bolaño, I do have to wonder what was adapted and what was omitted. There are times that the film’s ambitions muddle the central story. There are times the film becomes a touch convoluted, but luckily, it really sticks a landing in its final act.
“Summer War” is a daring political thriller, exploring one man’s journey in a political climate on the brink of change.
Grade: B
Double Feature With: “Night Move” (2013) dir. Kelly Reichhardt
Review: “Honeyjoon”
By Morgan Roberts
Director: Lilian T. Mehrel
Writer: Lilian T. Mehrel
Stars: Ayden Mayeri, Amira Casar, José Condessa
Runtime: 80 minutes
Year: 2025
**This review originally ran on June 7, 2025
In “Honeyjoon,” June (Ayden Mayeri), an American, and her Persian-Kurdish mother, Lela (Amira Casar) vacation in the beautiful Azores islands. However, this is more than a mother-daughter trip. Their visit to the Azores islands coincides with the one year anniversary of the death of June’s father. Surrounded by honeymooners at their resort, the pair confront their grief and their desires in life in different ways. In her feature directorial debut, Lilian T. Mehrel explores how grief can take shape in diverging ways and how it can reshape a mother-daughter relationship.
The film presents June and Lela at odds, not in blatant conflict but in only the subtle, nuanced ways mothers and daughters can be. Lela harbors some slight disapproval with her daughter in how she dresses and presents herself to the world. Yet, deeply cares, worrying about her daughter in not always the most helpful of ways. Meanwhile, June is constantly in fear her mother will say something which embarrasses her, especially in front of their attractive tour guide João (José Condessa). June reads her mother’s concerns largely as critiques, frustrating her. Mehrel cleverly embeds the dynamics between these women in her script, exploring the layers of their relationship through this tug of war as June aims to recapture her joy and Lela desperately wants to interrogate how this profound loss has changed them.
Left to right: Ayden Mayeri as June, Amira Casar as Lela | Photo Credit: Inés Gowland
“Honeyjoon” is anchored by two powerful performances. Mayeri, known for supporting roles in films such as “Spin Me Round” or series like “I Love That For You,” shines in the central role. She gives June nuance and layers which allow for all of the messy, vulnerable parts of her grief to come through in a beautiful way. June’s thirst for joie de vivre is made all that more believable by Mayeri’s honest and sensitive performance. Casar, likewise, gives an emotionally charged and deeply moving performance. A veteran of both American and European cinema, Casar feels so effortless as Lela, exuding her grief through her care and concern for her daughter. Casar and Mayeri are a natural fit as mother and daughter, perfectly balancing their characters’ different but parallel journeys.
Mehrel’s voice shines through as this journey unfolds, finding ways to dig deeper into June and Lela’s grief, while also allowing them moments of joy. Mehrel is able to allow Lela and June private moments from themselves, which then add shades and hues to their relationship throughout the film.
The cinematography by Inés Gowland beautifully gives the film an etherial feel. The imagery allows melancholy and magic, heartbreak and happiness, joy and sadness exist in this practically heaven on earth location. Beauty and grief are allowed to exist simultaneously, and how these characters are captured in this settling only accentuates those muddled mix of emotions.
“Honeyjoon” is a stunning depiction of grief, and the reflections found in the mother-daughter relationship. Casar and Mayeri both give such moving and vulnerable performances, it is easy to join them on their journey. Mehrel clearly gives her all in her first feature, laying bare the human experience.
Grade: A
Pair This Film With: “Lady Bird” (2017) dir. Greta Gerwig; “The Meddler” (2015) dir. Lorene Scafaria; “The Persian Version” (2023) dir. Maryam Keshavarz
“Honeyjoon” is in theaters now!
Tribeca Film Festival 2026 Review: “Hollywood Does Abortion”
By Morgan Roberts
Directors: Babara Attie, Janet Goldwater, Mike Attie
Writer: Jamie Boyle
Features: Rachel Bloom, Adrienne Barbeau, Steph Herold, Janine Sherman Barrois, Eleanor Bergstein, Zoanne Clack, Gillian Robespierre, Rachel Lee Goldenberg, Renee Bracey Sherman, Tanya Saracho, David Schulner, Merrit Tierce, Julie Wong, Kim Mutcherson, Dana Stevens, Lizz Winstead
Runtime: 95 minutes
Year: 2026
Do you recall the first time you saw a film or television show that discussed abortion? I was in middle school, and it was less a depiction of reproductive healthcare and more of a censorship of it. At the time, “Degrassi: The Next Generation,” a Canadian television show that tackled many issues impacting young people decided to move forward with a storyline where one character chose to terminate a pregnancy. However, the U.S. partner refused to allow the episode to be aired, instead, releasing the B-storylines as “mini-episodes.” It was the first time I truly became aware that not everyone viewed abortion as the healthcare it is, and more importantly, that the films and television we watch can have profound impacts on our understanding of this procedure.
In the documentary film, “Hollywood Does Abortion,” filmmakers Barbara Attie, Mike Attie, and Janet Goldwater explore how media depictions of abortions shape our perspectives, what changes have emerged, and what work still needs to be done.
The film opens with the famous episode of “Maude,” where the titular character played by Bea Arthur ultimately decides to have an abortion after an unplanned pregnancy. The two-part episode premiered in 1972, mere months before the historic Roe v. Wade ruling which protected a pregnant person’s right to an abortion. It was the first time abortion had been brought in Americans’ homes in this way. In the 50-some years since that episode of “Maude,” there have been countless depictions of abortion and reproductive healthcare, and not all depictions give accurate messaging.
The film not only features creatives - writers, directors, showrunners - who have been instrumental in crafting the depictions we see, but the researchers evaluating how abortions seen on screen are or are not representative of the current medical practices and lived experiences. Featuring academics and researchers such as Professor Kim Mutcherson and Steph Herold, MPH, provides more than anecdotal evidence to the impacts of abortion in film and television.
While the film has a standard documentary structure with archival footage and talking heads, it does provide a holistic portrait of the history of abortion in media. We see the markers of historical events such as the murder of Dr. George Tiller and the Dobbs ruling which repealed the precedence of Roe v. Wade. But, we also see the subtle, and at times, dangerous ways language has been used to further stigmatize this kind of healthcare. Continuing to call anti-abortion activists “pro-life” or healthcare providers as “abortionists,” gives a both sides approach that undermines the not only the reality of abortion, but normalizes misinformation perpetuated by anti-abortion individuals and organizations. That normalization has also led to sensationalism in what we seen on screen. The fact that the demographics of individuals obtaining abortions are not reflecting of the people who seek that type of healthcare. Healthcare and emotional outcomes are also desperate from media to actuality. The film truly interrogates this and acknowledges where gaps remain.
Nevertheless, “Hollywood Does Abortion” is not just exploring these differences, but showing the rise in more realistic depictions of abortion. Films such as “Obvious Child,” which balance humor and sincerity, have managed to destigmatize reproductive healthcare. Television series such as “Bojack Horseman” are effective in how they displayed and discussed abortion on screen. From “Unpregnant” to “Plan B” to “Never Sometimes Rarely Always,” there are growing examples of barriers, logistics, cost, at levels we have not seen. Even “My Crazy Ex-Girlfriend” had an episode with Paula, a married mother of two, seeking to terminate a pregnancy which is far more reflective of who is obtaining abortions in the United States. The film gives us an opportunity to celebrate the revelatory examples, even if harrowing, of how we discuss abortion, how we portray it, and the conversations we can start being of that media.
“Hollywood Does Abortion” takes a look at over 50 years of television and film, and begins to ponder not just how artists have shaped cinema, but how those depictions have shaped our understanding of reproductive healthcare. We have a long way to go in how we continue to dismantle destigmatization as well as more accurate representation of racial groups and gender identities, but we’re seeing a shift and most importantly, audiences are asking for it.
Grade: A-
Double Feature With: “No One Asked You” (2023) dir. Ruth Leitman
Tribeca Film Festival 2026 Review: “Sad Girlz”
Rocio Guzmán and Darana Álvarez in “Sad Girlz”
By Morgan Roberts
Director: Fernanda Tovar
Writer: Fernanda Tover
Stars: Rocio Guzmán, Darana Álvarez, Tatsumi Milori, Tomás García-Agraz, Mónica del Carmen
Runtime: 90 minutes
Year: 2026
In her feature directorial debut “Sad Girlz”, Fernanda Tovar explores female friendship as two girls try to navigate the aftermath of a traumatic experience. Best friends Maestra (Rocio Guzmán) and Paula (Darana Álvarez) are together constantly; whether hanging out or at swim practice, they are by one another’s sides creating their most formative experiences as a duo. However, after a party, Maestra discover something has happened to Paula. Paula, now depressed, confides in her friend, sending the pair down their own paths in an attempt to repair Paula’s sense of self and safety.
Rocio Guzmán and Darana Álvarez in “Sad Girlz”
“Sad Girlz” is a powerful coming-of-age film. It balances humor, heart, and heaviness in really impactful ways. The film does a beautiful job of taking its time to introduce its characters and setting. Without this, the loss of innocence which occurs later in the film wouldn’t hold the same weight. Giving the audience the change to sit with Maestra and Paula in the before makes the shift to the after jarring and heartbreaking. The cinematography and color grading in the film also aid in this shift. At the beginning of the film, the imagery is bright and airy. As Paula sinks into her depression, cooler tones come into play with the weight of the circumstances looming over the film. Cinematography Rosa Hadit Hernández not only captures these tonally shifts beautifully, but has some of the best underwater shots I have seen in a film as of late. Additionally, Hadit Hernández manages to capture the magical twilight of girlhood and masterfully juxtaposes it to the despair at the loss of innocence.
Moreover, “Sad Girlz” hinges on its performances, with Guzmán and Álvarez shining in their respective roles. Both actors have the challenge of expressing little hints at their characters’ interiority. Paula, obviously, is shaken by what has happened to her, and in the aftermath, shuts down. Álvarez, even as Paula is consumed by her grief, her pain, and her sadness, manages to give glimpses to her character’s processing of the worst thing to happen to her. Meanwhile, Guzmán must balance the rage, the guilt, and the drive of Maestra who feels as if she has played a part in Paula’s traumatic event and seeks both vengeance and any means to make amends. With their performances and Tovar’s script, the actors manage to capture the magic and turmoil of adolescence.
“Sad Girlz” is a breathtaking coming of age film which takes an honest approach to exploring trauma, its aftermath, and its path to healing. Stunningly shot, the film strikes an emotional chord with its grounded and powerful performances from its two lead actors.
Grade: B+
Double Feature With: “The Chronology of Water” (2025) dir. Kristen Stewart
Tribeca Film Festival 2026 Review: “Mother Future Self”
Imani Jade Powers as Sofi, Betsey Brown as Jordan | Photo Credit: Isaac Banks
By Morgan Roberts
Director: Tori Lancaster
Writer: Tori Lancaster
Stars: Imani Jade Powers, Betsey Brown, Juliet Brett, Ben Groh
Runtime: 90 minutes
Year: 2026
After years of not seeing each other, Sofi (Imani Jade Powers) and Jordan (Betsey Brown) find themselves at the same experimental dance camp in rural Maine. In her directorial debut “Mother Future Self,” Tori Lancaster examines the aftermath of a mysterious falling out between friends, and what occurs during an unexpected reunion. The film has a patient pace, requiring its audience to lean into the artist expressions reflecting the interpersonal dynamics. Interspersed with movement, “Mother Future Self” weaves together a tapestry of resentment and hurt as Sofi and Jordan dance around the root of their shared pain.
Lancaster has a keen eye for who, and what, fills a frame. There are a few shots of the dance rehearsals that are truly breathtaking. Cinematographers Isaac Banks and Tyler Harmon-Townsend give the interiority of the characters so much space for expression. One sequence is shot entirely from a bird’s eye view, giving the movement of the dancing so much breadth. Moreover, the way in which isolation and community are juxtaposed is accentuated in how the characters are filmed in nature versus how they are shot in the dance studio or living quarters.
Left to right: Betsey Brown as Jordan, Imani Jade Powers as Sofi | Photo Credit: Tyler Harmon-Townsend
At the heart of the film, you have two great performances from Powers and Brown. There is a well of history behind every interaction, but they know how to choose what slips in, what’s revealed, and know exactly what to hold back to build or ease tensions. “Mother Future Self” is centered around this dance camp, and it’s not just the movement in the studio we see. Throughout the film, we witness a sort of dance between Sofi and Jordan, sometimes they know the exact metaphorical steps, and other times, there is an anticipatory nature to this back and forth. It is this constant movement, questioning how at odds these two women are, the tension that builds, that the film reaches a surprising crescendo. The films truly hinges upon Brown and Powers’ performances, and both actors truly understand that malleable balance they teeter on together. What I appreciate most about the film, and akin to films such as Lynn Shelton’s “My Effortless Brilliance,” the real wound between these central characters is never fully spelled out. Why should it be? The relatability of a failed friendship, and years later trying to find the same person you once cared for while also being confronted with the person who caused you great pain doesn’t require an over-intellectualization. Rather, it excels by being rooted so deeply in the emotional interrogations of the characters both individually and interpersonally.
“Mother Future Self” is a bold feature debut from Lancaster, drawing in itself audience through the artistic and relational movement between people. Brown and Powers are an impactful duo, knowing how to ease and intensify the tensions between their characters so effortlessly. There is an experimental nature to the film, but if you can lock into the emotions bubbling beneath the surface, the explosive conclusion will be all that more gratifying.
Grade: B+
Double Feature With: “Always Shine” (2016) dir. Sophia Takal
Tribeca Film Festival 2026 Review: “Lucy Schulman”
David Cross and Ellie Sachs in “Lucy Schulman” | Photo Credit: Director o Photography Barton Cortright
By Morgan Roberts
Director: Ellie Sachs
Writer: Ellie Sachs
Stars: Ellie Sachs, David Cross, Thomas Mann, Sandrine Holt, Eisa Davis, Annabelle Attansio, Hasan Minhaj, Dan Perlman, Chelsea Frei, Joanna Arnow
Runtime: 94 minutes
Year: 2026
“Lucy Schulman” is an authentic look at life, love, and finding yourself.
Lucy Schulman (Ellie Sachs) is at a crossroads in her life. After breaking up with her long term boyfriend, Lucy has moved in with her single father Peter (David Cross). Working in a bookstore, but perhaps too afraid to acknowledge her own ambitions, Lucy’s attentions turn after meeting James (Thomas), an artist who is equal parts charming and thoughtful. But cracks soon form in her carefully constructed life, that force her to begin to confront what and who she centers in her life.
In addition to starring as the central character, Sachs has written and directed “Lucy Schulman,” not her first foray into either artistic venture, but her feature film debut. Sachs wholly owns this film, managing to craft a film that feels both nostalgic and authentically original. It felt akin to watching a film like “Frances Ha” or even “Sleeping with Other People” for the first time. Sure, there are these universal themes and elements explored in both, yet each film somehow feels so singularly explored by the writers and directors at the helm. Likewise, Sachs has a gift for putting you right into Lucy’s shoes from the scene, and build out her cast of characters.
David Cross and Ellie Sachs in “Lucy Schulman” | Photo Credit: Director o Photography Barton Cortright
Far too often, we find cinema that tends to give us surface level interpersonal relationships, and even while the film ebbs and flows on who Lucy invests her time with, the dynamics are so clear that you can piece together their history. This is particularly significant when you see Lucy amongst her friend group who, at times, are neglected when James enters the picture.
There is also something to be said about the way in which women in film explore men and their relationships with them. “Lucy Schulman” has an excellent exploration of this with Peter. Cross is his always comical self, but he is given a chance to explore some really soft sides to this single father. Far too often, the complicated men I see in my life are almost nowhere to be found in cinema. In her writing, Sachs has crafted a character so reflective of the real humans who populate my own life, that it feels almost revelatory to behold. Not since Lynn Shelton’s “Sword of Trust” have I been so captivated by an actor in a realm not usually available to them. It is through Peter’s tenderness that we are able to take a peak further into Lucy’s own inner workings.
And like all good New York City films, “Lucy Schulman” allows the city to be just as integral as any human character. There is a pulsating energy only New York can add to a film, and Sachs, along with her cinematographer Barton Cortright, beautifully capture that electricity.
“Lucy Schulman” is a film that manages to balance our own nostalgia while being completely original to the filmmaker’s voice. Throughout the film, you cannot help but become enraptured by and frustrated by, heartbroken for and optimistic for Lucy. There is a beautiful yearning many of us experience to have our lives figured out for us, rather than venturing through the hard parts. But, we all learn, much like Lucy, how to pick ourselves up, and try again.
Grade: A-
Double Feature With: “The Broken Hearts Gallery” (2020) dir. Natalie Krinsky
Tribeca Film Festival 2026 Review: “Kids Like Me”
By Morgan Roberts
Directors: Cynthia Lowen and Jon Cohrs
Runtime: 88 minutes
Year: 2026
Filmmaking duo Jon Cohrs and Cynthia Lowen explore the life and creativity of a preteen with disabilities in their documentary, “Kids Like Us.” The film follows Oliver, an avid fan of murder mysteries living in small town Massachusetts with his family. Oliver also lives with several disabilities. The whimsy of the murder mysteries he enlists his family and family friends exists in the same realm as doctor’s appointments, school functions which lack accessibility features, medical bills, and younger siblings with extensive knowledge of what buttons to push. Often, when we see people with disabilities, they fall into two camps: stigmatized outcasts or single-dimension hopecore. Both rob individuals with disabilities of their complicated, messy, and beautiful humanness. In order for ourselves - the proverbial audience - to feel good we either further ostracize or patronize them. Here, instead, we get to see Oliver not just as a child with disabilities, but as a son, a brother, a student, a filmmaker, a preteen, and more. His multifaceted humanness is on full display.
Oliver Odwazny-Beebe and Jon Cohrs in “Kid Likes Me”
Moreover, Oliver is not the only central subject of the film. “Kids Like Me” ensures we hear from his parents, Casey and Chad. We seen glimpses of their lives and people and learn about their experiences as parents of a child with disabilities. We get to witness the world through Willa, Oliver’s younger sister, and hear about her experience as a sibling of a person with disabilities. We see the ways in which Oliver shapes their lives, not just in relation to his identity as a person with disabilities, but as a storyteller. We see him include his family in the murder mystery film he’s making. Include them in the making of special effects - there is some great DIY fake blood made in the family’s kitchen. What “Kids Like Me” accomplishes is not only showing a child with disabilities, but seeing the community around them and the many dimensions of their lives. We are able to see a holistic picture of Oliver’s life and the important people who populate it.
“Kids Like Me” is also deeply personal. Lowen and Cohrs have known the family for years, giving great care and attention to who they are as people. (You can check out my interview with the filmmakers to hear more.) And in that attention, the filmmakers certainly highlight the seemingly little elements of inaccessibility which greatly impact the lives of people with disabilities. They are able to humanize a call to action to be more cognizant of how your community, your school, your workplace, your favorite third spaces, can have better accessibility. How seemingly minute things like a ramp for events can improve someone’s accessibility. How accessibility needs vary by person, by place, by circumstance. And, in turn, how can you, now become active in finding new means of accessibility in your own life and community?
“Kids Like Me” is a thought-provoking and touching documentary. Grounded in the lived experience of one family, the film invites its audience to critically examine how they show up for their community. The film also has the distinction of the whimsy and creativity of one ambitious child.
Grade: A-
Double Feature With: “CODA” (2021) dir. Sian Heder
Review: “Tuner”
Dustin Hoffman and Leo Woodall in “Tuner” | Courtesy of Black Bear
By Morgan Roberts
Director: Daniel Roher
Writers: Robert Ramsey, Daniel Roher
Stars: Leo Woodall, Havana Rose Liu, Lior Raz, Tovah Feldshuh, Jean Reno, Dustin Hoffman
Runtime: 107 minutes
Year: 2026
In director Daniel Roher’s latest feature, “Tuner,” the filmmaker tackles the heist genre with a musically inclined twist in his narrative feature debut. “Tuner” follows Niki (Leo Woodall), a piano tuner with exceptionally sensitive hearing. Niki and his mentor Harry (Dustin Hoffman) travel throughout New York City, tending to the pianos of the wealthiest New Yorkers - for the most part. Despite their clientele, Harry’s financial struggles coupled with his ailing health come to a head. Wanting to help, Niki finds himself working for Uri (Lior Raz), a man who works in security with the more lucrative side hustle of robbing his rich clients. To complicate matters further, Niki meets student composer Ruthie (Havana Rose Liu) at her university. At first feeling contempt towards him, Ruthie and Niki embark on a relationship, one eventually threatened by his double life.
It is hard to reinvent the wheel enough to keep a heist film fresh while also leaning into the elements which make a genre such as this so timeless. The music aspect of the film certainly sets it apart from other heist films. At a time when live performance is becoming less accessible for working class people, to have that as a central element in the film aids the direction of “Tuner” as Niki embarks on these robberies. Moreover, as someone who took many music lessons, the arts are always important culturally and yet, so often, particularly in the United States, the ability to purse music, writing, etc. is relegated to affluence, making is cumbersome for people like Harry and Niki to make a living in that field. “Tuner” does not necessarily outwardly dive into the aspect, but when the film chooses to juxtapose Harry’s and Niki’s working class circumstances with those of their wealthy clients, it is not difficult to see the stark differences in their realities.
Havana Rose Liu and Leo Woodall in “Tuner” | Courtesy of Black Bear
The music aspect is also expanded upon with the Ruthie character, a woman working on her Master’s degree in music composition. The pursuit of musical eduction is refreshing to see on screen as I think in our current sociopolitical circumstances, the arts and higher education face continued devaluation. This element certainly adds stakes to the situation given the interpersonal relationships connected to the music elements in the film. The mentor-mentee relationship between Harry and Niki serves as a catalyst throughout the film. While veteran actor Hoffman plays curmudgeon old New Yorker well, Woodall tends to carry the sincerity in this dynamic, giving a little more texture to this pair. Additionally, the romance storyline in the film work because of the chemistry between Woodall and Liu. The pair give really great performances, making their respective characters feel like people prior to their meeting. Woodall gives Niki a silently stoic exterior eventually revealing his insecurities and desires for connection, while Liu plays into Ruthie’s prickly facade before exposing her inner works, her fears, and her bereavement. They are able to make these two characters feel inevitably drawn to one another.
What does not aid “Tuner,” however, is the script. Co-written by Roher and Robert Ramsey, there are times the tension feels unrealistically manufactured. For a movie about a heist, there are moments that dynamics shift so inorganically, it frankly took me by surprise. It seems that the struggle came between understanding the heightened nature of the heist elements and balancing realistic relationship tensions. There is one particular fight between Niki and Ruthie that feels so forced, I had to wonder if either screenwriter had experienced interpersonal conflict before, which is such a shame since it truly undermined the performances on screen.
“Tuner” certainly takes a fresh spin on the heist genre. The script certainly leaves something to be desired, but the performances at the core of the film absolutely save this film.
Grade: B-
Double Feature With: “Point Break” (1991) dir. Kathryn Bigelow
Slamdance Film Festival 2026 Review: “The Plan”
By Morgan Roberts
Director: Jessica Barr
Writer: Jessica Barr
Stars: Ryan Simpkins, An-Li Bogan, Eve Lindley, Jordan Hull, Arkira Chantaratananond, Percy Hynes White, Logan Miller, Frank Mosley
Runtime: 74 minutes
Year: 2026
“The Plan” from writer/director Jessica Barr is a knockout and haunting slow burn that will have you on the edge of your seat, without realizing it. When a group of friends all convene at an apartment, it seems as if the dynamic of the group is in a major upheaval. In quick succession, the group assembles into this apartment, and as the day unfolds, the tensions in the group reveal a far darker dynamic than one can imagine.
The film largely takes place in a single setting - an apartment. Any film that utilizes a single space for a majority of the film has to understand how to retain its audience’s attention. “The Plan” perfectly executes mounting tension and gradually reveals itself. Employing an almost cinema vérité style of filmmaking, “The Plan” squarely places the audience as a spectator to the events. Often, you feel like a fly on the wall, wondering what in particular is happening in front of you. The audience incrementally learns the dynamics amongst the group. We see who the steadfast, albeit strict, leader is. Who tends to be a disrupter and who aims to keep the peace. But at the center of all of this is the plan itself - and I’m not going to reveal that; it is so brilliantly executed, I would certainly spoil the fun/horror if I wrote more.
What also makes the tension so palpable is how the film is shot. “The Plan” is shot in a single, uninterrupted take, weaving between rooms, characters, and dynamics. It gives the film a real ticking time bomb feel, because, even if you follow a character into another room or pan elsewhere, you’re never truly far from what happened before. I imagine there was an extensive rehearsal process because the timing had to be just right in every single moment.
At the core of the film is this haunting plan - that, again, I will tease but not reveal. This group consists of young people aiming to make a real change in their world. But, as a true reflection of where we are, how to execute that change, what is born from that change, are difficult to agree upon. It is quite engaging to see not only how these interpersonal dynamics shift, but each individual’s understanding of their own values and morals morph throughout the film. The film has this thought-provoking premise about the disillusion in trust in institutions and the deep seated nihilism from failed promises from previous generations.
“The Plan” is a surprising thriller that will leave you with a pit in your stomach by the end. A true feat in technical filmmaking, this independent film utilizes a single, uninterrupted take to build the most suffocating tension in such an artfully subtle manner.
Grade: A
Pair This Film With: “Night Moves” (2013) dir. Kelly Reichardt
Slamdance Film Festival 2026 Review: “Snowland”
By Morgan Roberts
Director: Jill Orschel
Runtime: 90 minutes
Year: 2025
Societally, we’ve begun to understand the Fundamentalist Church of Latter-Day Saints (FLDS). From many a TLC documentary or television series to HBO’s “Big Love” and beyond, the once locally known fundamentalist sect of Mormons still practicing polygamy has become more widely known. In the documentary, “Snowland,” one woman who had the bravery to leave the FLDS begins the courageous act of facing change once again. Cora Lee Witt was raised in FLDS and was only in the 7th grade when she met her future husband, Richard. Cora Lee, as just a teenager, became the second wife to a man about two decades older than her.
The film bounces between past and present. Audiences find Cora Lee is trying to sell others on the fantasy realm of “Snowland,” and escape she created for herself in her darkest moments. An artist and skilled seamstress, Cora Lee has been crafting this world as a means to reclaim her story. Through interviews, we learn just what Cora Lee endured. In her marriage, Cora Lee tried to emulate what was taught to her and expected of her by both her husband and her sister wife. A literal child bride, she cared for her sister wife’s children as well as the 12 children she would have with their husband. But when her sister wife died at just 33 years old of cancer, Cora Lee became responsible for the well-being of 17 children - and at such an incredibly young age herself.
It is quite easy to be drawn into Cora Lee and her story. A steadfast and resilient woman who also manages to be quite warm, inviting, and deeply vulnerable, it is easy to understand how she became a safe person for the children in her care. And sadly, for the daughters of her husband, she was the only adult looking out of them. In a tale as old as time, Cora Lee discovered her husband was abusing his daughters. While, sadly, not unexpected, it is truly heart-wrenching to hear her recall that moment in her life. And what makes it all the more sickening were the continual protections for abusers in her community.
After leaving the FDLS with her children, Cora Lee fought to survive. Her story is harrowing and it is what makes her fantasy world of “Snowland” so fascinating. In order to endure her unimaginable hardship, she told stories which brought solace. But what was lying beneath that story of wonder were the dark experiences she weathered.
The documentary manages to allow the wonder in Cora Lee’s life to flourish, and allow that story to be the book ends to the unspeakable trauma she and her family lived through. “Snowland” is a document about the power of storytelling and the resilience of mothers in the face of cruelest of monsters.
Grade: B+
Pair This Film With: “The Other You” (2025) dir. Shoshana Rosenbaum; “Women Talking” (2022) dir. Sarah Polley
Slamdance Film Festival 2026 Review: “Brailled It”
By Morgan Roberts
Director: David Grabias
Stars: Salome Cummins, Isaiah Gauthier, Christopher Morgan
Runtime: 73 minutes
Year: 2026
Each year, the best English-speaking braille reading and writing individuals under-18 come to Los Angeles, CA compete in the Brailled Challenge. For one week, blind and low-vision kids are the majority in every room, connecting and making friends (and identifying rivals) as they compete in reading and writing challenges in distinct age groups. In the documentary film, “Brailled It” three participants put audiences in their shoes throughout the week-long competition.
It is an interesting concept to have low-vision and blind individuals are in control of the visuals for audiences. The film does open with a warning for audience members that the camera movements could be jarring or disorienting. I found the approach to be quite unique and engaging. It forces audiences without visual impairments to be mindful of their own relationship with that sense. How do I navigate spaces? What must it have been like for any of these teens to navigate these crowded spaces on their own? The film also uses auditory descriptions throughout. As the film progressed, I found myself relying more and more on the descriptions than all of the visuals themselves which I found quite striking.
While “Brailled It” as possesses these distinct points of view - and we have three of them - it also remains a coming of age film. We follow Chris, Isaiah, and Salome engaging in this completion, we also have them being kids. For instance, Salome holds herself to exceedingly high expectations. We hear her remarks after she has finished part of her competition where she expresses doubt in herself. Even at the awards ceremony, Salome is constantly preparing herself for disappointment. As someone who was a preteen/teenage girl, that self-critique was really honest and vulnerable to witness in the film. We see all of the kids struggle with their nerves, both for the competition and for their peers to like them. There is this widely universal quality to those insecurities, hopes, and fears.
Despite these perspectives, the intricacies of the competition(s) Salome, Isaiah, and Chris were competing in were a bit lost on me. In this more cinema vérité approach, this framework of the competition is not clearly defined. I found it hard to truly understand the stakes for each of these kids. How often have them come to these competitions? Do they participate in every challenge? What do these challenges look like? I was left with a lot of questions unanswered that, had we been able to fully understand this important narrative piece, I would have been able to feel more immersed in this world.
Nevertheless, “Brailled It” is a truly fascinating and thought-provoking film. It is certainly one I have been pondering since watching. As a documentary, it takes the cinema vérité to a new level in such a striking manner.
Grade: B
Pair This Film With: “Crip Camp: A Disability Revolution” (2020) dirs. Jim LeBrecht and Nicole Newnham; “Try Harder!” (2021) dir. Debbie Lum
Slamdance Film Festival 2026 Review: “BRB”
By Morgan Roberts
Director: Kate Cobb
Writers: Sydney Blackburn and Michael Waller
Stars: Autumn Best, Zoe Colletti, Beth Lacke, Keith Kupferer, Richard David, Dan Haller, Cristian Lager
Runtime: 93 minutes
Year: 2026
In Kate Cobb’s latest feature, “BRB,” is a nostalgic sisters roadtrip film filled with hilarity and heart. Dylan (Zoe Colletti) and Sam (Autumn Best) are left home alone when their parents (Beth Lacke and Keith Kupferer) go on vacation in an apparent effort to save their marriage, the two teens embark on a multi-state roadtrip for two wildly different reasons. Sam is a fifteen-year-old whose closest friends are the ones made in chatrooms dedicated to her favorite television show. When she admits to Dylan she has a crush on one of the other members in her fandom, her older sister convinces her to drive to meet her crush. Dylan herself does have ulterior motives as she has recently been broken up with by her musician boyfriend.
There is something particularly sentimental about the early days of chatrooms and internet fandoms. There is an innocence at this burgeoning of the internet. And it pairs perfectly with the roadtrip film. There are plenty of films in the genre all ranging in execution. “BRB” understands the perfect balance of roadtrip antics with important relationship building between the sisters. I find sibling dynamics truly interesting. I know my relationship with my sibling is one of the most imperative in my life. For many, your sibling (or siblings) is the only person who truly understands how your upbringing shaped you.
What “BRB” also does expertly is have throughly explored conversations. Sam, for instance, has body image issues which find themselves peppered throughout the film until it becomes more difficult to ignore. There are conversations about Dylan’s relationship with alcohol - fairly common for U.S. teens. Topics such as these, in lesser hands, would become either flippant and thrown in to have a half-baked conversation or appear after-school special-y. Instead, “BRB” finds the perfect balance of seriously tackling these through-lines without feeling preachy or judgmental. These, and other plot points, feel organic. I also really appreciate the inclusion of Sam’s disability. Best, an actor with a limb difference, has used the opportunities throughout her career to discuss better disability representations in films. As someone who grew up in the mid-aughts, differences were exploited for laughs. I just think on how demonstrative it was to see girls, for example, treated so poorly - I mean, menstruation was mocked by boys and men in the cinema that was popular in my youth . And to think about the very few decorations of disability as a source for mean-spirited and cruel “humor,” being the only depictions I was seeing demonstrates not just how much more still needs to be done, but how revelatory it is for films like “BRB” to exist. The film includes truly thoughtful and honest conversations about disability - and again, doing so in a not patronizing way.
“BRB” may use common film genres - road trip and coming-of-age - for its foundation, at its core is a beautiful, honest and authentic story about two sisters at crossroads in their lives. I really wish I had had a film like “BRB” to bring to sleepovers in my youth. Its impeccable script, great cast, and tight editing makes the film a real standout.
Grade: A
Pair This Film With: “The Edge of Seventeen” (2017) dir. Kelly Fremon Craig; “Unpregnant” (2020) dir. Rachel Lee Goldberg
Slamdance Film Festival 2026 Review: “Kings of Venice”
By Morgan Roberts
Directors: Sveinn Ingimundarson & S.D. Saltarelli
Runtime: 95 minutes
Year: 2025
Paddle tennis is a serious business. In the documentary, “Kings of Venice,” filmmakers Sveinn Ingimundarson and S.D. Saltarelli explore the characters dedicated to the sport. Obviously, it’s important to note that paddle tennis IS NOT pickleball. The game play, the court, and the equipment differ between the sports. But as pickleball has taken off with popularity, the defenders and players of paddle tennis aim to keep the sport alive - and relevant.
At Venice Beach, paddle tennis players flock to a tournament organized by Scott Freedman. Freedman was once the reigning paddle tennis champion, but now, much like the sport itself, Freedman’s relevance is waining. In an attempt to relive his glory days - and appease his ego - he organizes this tournament between paddle tennis teams. The sport itself does not have much money, making those who play exceedingly passionate. Freedman isn’t the only one. A whole host of individuals flock to Venice Beach to play paddle tennis on the courts there.
Freedman manages to raise the funds for a $50,000 1st place prize for the mixed-doubles team that wins the championship game. An easy adversary emerges when one of the teams is comprised of two pickleball players. Not only does the tournament become a litmus test of who are the best players in paddle tennis, but the legitimacy of the sport as a whole.
Despite there being tension during the championship itself, it is difficult to root for many of the players. There is an egotism that perfuses the film that makes it hard to see any of the players as true underdogs. Sure, the sport itself is the underdog, but the sometimes childish antics or outbursts that only white men could get away with make it hard to truly connect to the people at the center of this story. These are people who feel more like caricatures than actual humans, and it’s that surface-level exploration that leaves something to be desired.
“Kings of Venice” paints a portrait of an underappreciated sport but lacks an inquisitive interrogation into the people whose personalities are so deeply rooted in paddle tennis. For people looking to learn more about paddle tennis, the film gives a great crash course in understanding the history of the sport and how it differs from pickleball (a sport that has risen in popularity over the past five or six years). Nevertheless, if we had been able to truly delve into the passionate athletes of the sport, it may have rounded out the examination of this world a bit more.
Grade: C+
Pair This Film With: “Battle of the Sexes” (2017) dirs. Valerie Faris and Jonathan Dayton
Slamdance Film Festival 2026 Review: “Danny Is My Boyfriend”
By Morgan Roberts
Directors: Lucy Sandler & Mechi Lakatos
Stars: Mechi Lakatos, Lucy Sandler, Michelle Thompson, Kate Heffernan, Rachel Brunner, Brooke Smith, Eli Powers, Maleah Goldberg, David Brown, Matilda Paulin
Runtime: 100 minutes
Year: 2026
Danny is her boyfriend. And also *her* boyfriend. After discovering they are both dating the same person, Lucy (Lucy Sandler) and Mechi (Mechi Lakatos) embark on a wild series of schemes to get even with the two-timing Danny. “Danny Is My Boyfriend,” directed by Lakatos and Sandler, boasts a cacophony of misadventures, outrageous ploys, and culminating a corybantic ending.
When Mechi and Lucy learn they are dating the same man, instead of a measured revenge plot, the two women clumsily move from one misguided attempt for revenge/reconciliation after another. There are times the pair work together to craft their plan, but largely, they are both separately confronting their own feelings of betrayal - and at times, exceptionalism - with the partner they once thought they knew.
The film has a frenetic energy, never slowing down as each plan begins to unravel, and a new ploy unfolds. The film’s dialogue is completely improvised - something I, as a mumblecore defender, find refreshing in film. It is this “yes-and” improvisation that keeps the film not only paced impeccably, but keeps audiences on their toes as to what could happen next. Lucy and Mechi are not alone throughout the film. We also see Lucy’s family and their enmeshed, messy dynamics. Lucy’s mother is played by veteran actor Brooke Smith, and it is an utter delight to see her in a role and film such as this. When the film has the actors playing off of one another, we truly get moments of gold. My favorite endeavor in the film is when there is a ruse to audition a bunch of actors to hire them to attempt to seduce Danny. It sounds preposterous, yes, but this is the comedic genius of this film.
“Danny Is My Boyfriend” also gets to the core of what makes films like this so special. There is an earnestness that permeates the film. While we may be adults having to confront those who have wounded us and also carry on with our Costco trip, we are also the sum of all the women and girls we used to be. As a van full of women scream sang “Breakaway,” I couldn’t help but marvel at this moment. It was one of the purest, most freeing moments in cinema I have seen all year. Sure, it is hilarious to see a group freestyle pitch, and key, and sometimes lyrics. But it was also the moment peppered between outlandish misadventures, felt so honest. I personally love a film that can not only have a good time, but ultimately wears its heart on its sleeve, even if just for a moment.
The film is a rollercoaster ride, but if you hop onto the wavelength of “Danny Is My Boyfriend,” you are sure to enjoy every surprising twist and turn. As well as the three-legged dog, Paul Wall. “Danny Is My Boyfriend” is a refreshing and hilarious comedy, that is equal parts whip smart and silly billy antics.
Grade: A
Pair This Film With: “Stress Positions” (2024) dir. Theda Hammel
Slamdance Film Festival 2026 Review: “The LeMieurs”
By Morgan Roberts
Director: Sammy LeMieur
Runtime: 75 minutes
Year: 2026
Death is the way of life for the LeMieurs. Generations of the family have worked as funeral directors. But their work took on new meaning at Tony’s funeral. Tony was young, far too young when he passed; and so, the family gathers, meticulously ensuring every detail is handled with the most care and consideration. This is how filmmaker Sammy LeMieur introduces audiences to his family in his documentary feature debut, “The LeMieurs.”
The sudden loss of his cousin - I’m assuming cousin because we’re not quite given the fullest picture of the family tree - isn’t the only change for the LeMieurs. Matriarch Beverly is aging, and her decline is becoming more evident as the days and weeks pass. It is not unfamiliar territory for many Americans. As the last of the Greatest Generation, the entirety of the Silent Generation, and the bulk of the Boomer Generation all age into older adulthood, societally, we are confronted by not just the complex needs of an aging loved one but of the rapid changes in family dynamics. It is one of the elements that makes this film stand-out. Through its specificity, it allows for audiences to ruminate on their own families, their own mortality, and the mortality of those around them.
The film is not morose, though. It is actually quite poignant in its pragmatism. Life itself is made of joyful greetings and sorrowful partings. At one point , one of Beverly’s son’s remarks, “It’s a blessing and a curse to live this long, isn’t it, Mom?” The documentary largely takes a cinema vérité approach, though, particularly with Beverly, Sammy becomes a character, a recognition of the person behind the camera. There are interviews that feel more like from a home movie with a curious kid asking the questions. But you begin to see a family begin to grapple with the rapid and sometimes unexpected changes happening around them. The film could benefit from some visual clues on who’s who and how folks are related given the LeMieurs have such a big family. There were moments I wasn’t quite sure which of Bev’s sons I was following. Nevertheless, the home video vibes and intimate portrait of this family were really great touches. Moreover, the film paints an interesting portrait of change, life, and loss over a four year span. Those reconnections with family were particularly poignant to see as Sammy focused on his own father and brother, the former a surgeon and the latter in the family business. It is thought-provoking how interconnected those fields are, and the core of what gives great meaning to those professions become apparent as the audience witnesses Bev’s health deteriorate, with her ultimately ending up in a nursing home.
“The LeMieurs” is a touching documentary which focuses on the lives of a family whose business is death. It is deeply personal, and allows audiences to ruminate on their own family structures. The last shot of the film particularly resonated with me as a viewer, and I think encapsulated the true thesis of the film.
Grade: B+
Pair This Film With: “Thank You and Good Night” (1991) dir. Jan Oxenberg
Review “Send Help”
By Morgan Roberts
Director: Sam Raimi
Writers: Damian Shannon and Mark Swift
Stars: Rachel McAdams, Dylan O’Brien, Edyll Ismail, Dennis Haysbert, Xavier Samuel, Chris Pang
Runtime: 113 minutes
Year: 2026
How would you fair trapped on a remote island with your shitty boss? In Sam Raimi’s latest film, “Send Help,” the ultimate survivalist cat-and-mouse game commences. Linda (Rachel McAdams) has worked at the same firm for years, dedicating her life to this ambiguous corporation. When the new CEO Bradley Preston (Dylan O’Brien), the company automatically becomes a boy club, with Linda now facing the possible loss of her job due to her frumpy appearance and rancid choice for lunch. But she’s given one final chance with an acquisition meeting. While en route, the private plane she, Bradley, and others are on crashes, with Linda and Bradley as the only survivors.
Dylan O’Brien and Rachel McAdams in “Send Help” | 20th Century Studios
“Send Help” squarely positions these two characters at odds with each other. It is not only the employer/employee dynamic which is introduced early on, but there is also subtext of extreme wealth versus working class. Sure, Linda works a more white collar job, sits in a cubicle all day. But she is certainly a cog in a machine that ensures Bradley and his inner circle remain rich without her being able to tap into the rewards of her labor. Nevertheless, on the island, Linda now has the upper hand, shifting the duo’s dynamics.
McAdams is exceedingly entertaining as she manages to clearly have a blast with the more absurdist fun in the film while ensuring the deeply human layers of Linda shine through. She exudes the same earnestness as Linda divulges about her personal life as she does hunting a boar in a truly outrageous scene. These films work well when humor and heart can be injected into them, and throughout her career, McAdams has demonstrated she is a true master of the craft as she effortlessly weaves both into this film.
As she screen partner for the majority of the film, O’Brien clearly understands is role. “Send Help” is very much a McAdams showcase, and O’Brien shows up without showing off. He plays Bradley as vain and petulant man child, who feels entitled to everything despite being well out of his depth. He plays more of a caricature which works perfectly for this film. Much like McAdams, he knows the film is aiming to be audacious in its choices and comedy.
Rachel McAdams in “Send Help” | 20th Century Studios
Where the film suffers is its runtime. It becomes too repetitive to always remain interesting. For a horror film with comedic elements, the fact it ventured anywhere past the 95 minute mark was a real detriment to the film. If it had been tighter, I think it could have maintained its pace and momentum. Additionally, as someone who struggles with Sam Raimi as a filmmaker, his fan service (or self-serving) nods to his other work felt forced. Moreover, some moments appeared to be inspired by Coralie Fargeat’s “The Substance,” and sadly became distracting in not the intended manner.
Despite some minor elements and runtime issues, “Send Help” is a rip roaring great time. With two actors clearly having a blast, it’s not difficult to get swept up in the do-or-die circumstances in the film. And ultimately, the film is a showcase for McAdams who balances the comedic beats, horror elements, and brings earnestness in all the right ways.
Grade: B
Pair This Film With: “Bodies Bodies Bodies” (2022) dir. Halina Reijn; “The Substance” (2024) dir. Coralie Fargeat; “The Watchers” (2024) dir. Ishana Night Shyamalan
Review: “H is for Hawk”
Lindsay Duncan and Claire Foy in “H is for Hawk” | Courtesy of Roadside Attractions
By Morgan Roberts
Director: Philippa Lowthorpe
Writers: Emma Donahue and Philippa Lowthorpe
Stars: Claire Foy, Brendan Gleeson, Lindsay Duncan, Denise Gough, Josh Dylan
Runtime: 119 minutes
Year: 2026
At a funeral recently, in one of the eulogies, someone remarked (and I’m paraphrasing) that to mourn is the burden we must endure for the honor of loving someone. And that sentiment permeates Philippa Lowthrope’s latest film, “H is for Hawk.” Based off of the memoir by the same name, the film follows Helen MacDonald (Claire Foy), after the sudden death of their father (Brendan Gleeson). His love of ornithology leads Helen to getting her own goshawk to train.
Admittedly, I haven’t read MacDonald’s memoir which was published back in 2014. There is a challenge not only transforming a true story, but a memoir. Many memoirs not only involve personal narratives, but internal thoughts and reflections. Thus, an adaptation can be tricky. How far do you lean into the interiority of the piece? Luckily for Lowthorpe, the film hinges upon the performance of Foy, who excels at interiority. In her criminally underappreciated work in Sarah Polley’s “Women Talking,” Foy oscillated between fiery emotion and demure, insular moments. In “H is for Hawk,” she leans heavily into restraint, coaxing the audience into this bereaved person’s inner world.
Claire Foy and Brendan Gleeson in “H is for Hawk” | Courtesy of Roadside Attractions
In the film, Helen is depicted not only has brilliant but a touch flighty. But even with her big and wild dreams, there’s a grounded nature anchoring her to her work, her friends, and her family, particularly her father. We see quick glimpses of her life before the loss of her father peppered throughout the film, many times juxtaposing her further decent into the black hole of grief. It is through her training of her goshawk Mabel that Helen begins to truly reckon with her profound grief. There were moments between Helen and Mabel that felt reminiscent of the classic Ken Loach film, “Kes.” But unlike Loach’s film, the feathered friend of the film is critically central. It is an amalgamation of both Helen’s grief and salvation. The cinematography from Charlotte Bruus Christensen soars when the goshawk is on screen.
The script was co-written by Lowthrope and Emma Donahue - writer of the book and film “Room.” There are times that the dialogue feels a bit on the nose, particularly when comparing Helen to the goshawk they’re training, but the script manages to capture Helen’s grief. While the film is patiently paced, there are moments it feels a touch slow, which, when coupled with more interior central performance can be a difficult to grab your attention. Nevertheless, the film manages to quickly win you back with Foy’s steadfast performance, the stunning cinematography, and the scripts thoughtful rumination on grief. The film can be tricky, since the central focus is not only on this grief, but trying to understand it through the lens of another person’s inner world only shown through cracks. I find that to also be the most compelling part of the film. There are others we encounter every day living through a grief so overwhelming, it begins to rob them of themselves. They live the burden of loving someone so deeply, that their loss becomes a mournful abyss. And yet, there is something that helps guide them through despair. For Helen, that guide was a goshawk.
Grade: B-
Pair This Film With: “All Dirt Roads Taste of Salt” (2023) dir. Raven Jackson; “Vagabond” (1985) dir. Agnès Varda; “Wendy and Lucy” (2007) dir. Kelly Reichardt