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Review by Sean Boelman
Courtesy Amazon MGM Studios
Michael Showalter has brought us some great, unorthodox romantic comedies, including The Big Sick and Hello, My Name Is Doris. While his latest, The Idea of You, is much more conventional and leans on a lot of cheesy tropes, it also takes advantage of its stars’ charisma and talent to deliver a genuinely lovable entry into the genre.
Based on the novel by Robinne Lee, the film follows a 40-year-old single mother who forms an unlikely relationship with the 24-year-old lead singer of one of the most popular boy bands around. If this sounds cheesy and trashy — like A Star Is Born for the Wattpad generation — it’s because it kind of is. However, if you’re willing to enjoy it for what it is, it’s a diverting hour and 55 minutes. The movie attempts to dive into some of the deeper complexities of its age gap relationship, such as the double standard that is applied to men and women dating people who are younger than them. However, it takes a while for the romance storyline to really reach full speed, and by that time, it ends up feeling rushed to explore all of its themes in the back hour. Still, the characters are so incredibly likable that it’s hard not to get swept away by The Idea of You’s romance. It’s refreshing to see a film told from the perspective of a perspective that’s not too often showcased as a romantic lead in movies like this — even if the actress cast in the lead role is one of the few that Hollywood would still let carry a movie like this. 
Photo Credit: Alisha Wetherill
On the one hand, Anne Hathaway gives one of her best performances in years in this role, bringing a ton of charm and humor to the character but also elevating it with a nuance that many other actors would not have explored. At the same time, the movie seems to treat her as if she’s “plain” — not one of the highest-paid actresses of all time who is known for her beauty. This does make the third act’s conflict somewhat hard to believe.
As for Nicholas Galitzine, one of the brightest rising stars in the film industry today, he yet again proves that he has what it takes to be a movie star. Although he’s quickly becoming typecast as the attractive guy who seems dumb on the surface but has a deeper, more sensitive side, he’s good at doing it, so why should he stop? For the most part, the movie is shot in a pretty straightforward romantic comedy style, with the exception of a few editing flourishes that feel ripped out of classic music movies like Micahel Wadleigh’s Woodstock. However, the real star of the execution is its original music, as there are more than a few catchy original songs for the boy band of the film. The Idea of You is a trashy romantic comedy, but as far as the genre goes, you could do a lot worse than this. Thanks to its leads’ genuinely good performances and a storyline that’s consistently charming — even if it’s not as deep as it seems to think it is — this will definitely find life among audiences both young and old. The Idea of You is now in theaters and streams on Prime beginning May 2. Rating: 3.5/5
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Review by Daniel Lima  In the West, the parameters of acceptable discourse on the subject of Israel and Palestine have been limited to simply acknowledging that there is a cycle of tumult and violence. The perception among the general public has been that interrogating why that is far too complicated, that assigning blame is a fruitless effort, and as a consequence, any solutions are far out of reach. After the past seven months of wanton destruction and killing by the Israeli government against the people of Palestine, that narrative is on the wane, and a situation that had been portrayed as prohibitively complex for decades has undergone a massive reevaluation. It is the perfect time for a film like Lyd, a work that draws a clear line between the sins of the past and our present reality and vociferously argues why contextualizing the present within that broader history is crucial in determining the future. Co-directed by American Sarah Ema Friedland and Palestinian Rami Younis, the film makes no qualms about its perspective: the colonization of the Levant in the aftermath of World War I by Western powers and the Israeli annexation of the city of Lyd represents an original sin that created deep wounds that have never and cannot ever heal so long as the subjugation of the Arab population remains the status quo. To that end, the film explores the city’s history via talking heads, narration, archival footage, and even animation, painting a portrait of a people under occupation and a world that could be different. The firsthand accounts of the Nakba, the 1948 ethnic cleansing of Palestinian families from land seized by Israel that saw thousands dead and hundreds of thousands expelled from their homes, are breathtaking. One man still living in the city recalls being forced as a child by the occupying forces to bury the bodies of those they killed, some so disfigured they had melted; a young man who has spent his entire life in a refugee camp mentions that his grandmother’s house is still standing and occupied by settlers, yet he is not even allowed to enter the city. Most chilling is a collection of testimonies from Israeli veterans, compiled by the IDF itself, where they remember what it was like shooting into building filled with men, women and children. One man, in particular, visibly disturbed, speaks of looking into the eyes of defenseless Palestinians and seeing himself as a murderer through them and how he was to them what generations of oppressors were to his people. Off-screen, someone derisively asks, “What, are you a pacifist now?” as if that is a bad thing. The man clams up. Taken with the contemporary Palestinian accounts, these interviews establish that the origins of this conflict are not ancient, not incomprehensible. They are the direct result of people and are still within living memory, so this conflict is not the hopeless quagmire we are so often told it is.  There are some attempts to show what life is like for Arab Israelis, the fallout of the Nakba that continues to rain down. While these slice-of-life scenes serve that purpose, displaying in stark relief what life under oppression is like, there is a certain artifice that is hard to shake. Some moments, like the camera gliding behind a man as he walks through the streets of his ad hoc community, feel perfectly lived in. Then there’s a shot-reverse shot scene of him ordering food at a restaurant, and suddenly, the film has adopted narrative cinematic language in a way that makes it feel inorganic. Nowhere is this more pronounced than in the classroom scene, where a group of children are asked about their identity. Their teacher is brought to tears by the ignorance they display about what it means to be Palestinian, and it is indeed shocking to hear their responses, but that shock can only go so far when the scene is so composed.
That being said, the documentary does have several more fanciful elements that work to varying degrees. The narration is given from the perspective of the city itself, a flourish that lends the film a certain texture but little else. More notable are the animated sequences, glimpses into an alternate world in which the Levant was never colonized by Europe. Admittedly, the rosy vision of a pluralistic society that knows only peace can be seen as a bit fanciful, particularly considering the film does reference religious tensions before the First World war. As is made clear by the finale, however, it is by imagining what could have been and what could be that calcified ideas of how the world is can be shattered. That is the power of Lyd: it shatters assumptions that many may have, until very recently, held unchallenged about the lives of Palestinians under Israeli occupation. The image it presents is filled with pain and suffering, of people forced to see what was taken from them as a daily form of torture, yet it does not simply revel in that suffering. Instead, it diagnoses the root cause, puts a face to the perpetrators, and, in doing so, allows the possibility for justice and a better tomorrow. Lyd arrives in theaters April 26. Rating: 4/5 Review by Camden Ferrell  What do you get when you cross Before Sunrise with an insomniac and troubled New Yorker lead? You get Pratfall, writer/director Alex Andre’s feature debut that premiered at the 2023 Brooklyn Film Festival. A perfect example of the power of low-budget filmmaking, Andre paints a portrait of New York through the eyes of his lead characters in an engaging and simple manner even if it can sometimes lose its way on its journey. Eli is an unsettled man in New York grappling with his own complicated problems both internal and external. His life has become filled with insomnia, conversations with himself, and interacting with the rest of the city. One day, he crosses paths with Joelle, a French tourist. Together, they go on an odyssey through New York City where Eli paints a picture of the city with his embellished words as Joelle joins along for the ride. This story of two people crossing paths for a memorable night of conversation and exploration has been done before, but it also doesn’t make it any less compelling as a premise. At times, it’s hard to distinguish whether dialogue is scripted or improvised, which is a testament to Andre’s ability to write such naturally flowing dialogue. It never feels forced or unnaturally philosophical, a trait that most movies of this kind are guilty of for better or worse. Sometimes the dialogue meanders more than it should, but this also contributes to the heightened realism of the film, so it’s not necessarily a net negative. There are some narrative beats that definitely feel out of place throughout the movie and take the audience out of the small-scale connection it is so good at achieving from the start.  This movie is led by Joshua Burge and Chloé Groussard as Eli and Joelle. Burge takes on the lion’s share of the dialogue and does well with it, conveying the more subtle troubling aspects of Eli without becoming a caricature. It’s a unique character to play especially as a lead, but Burge is able to handle the character well enough to be distinct without undermining the realistic nature of the film. While Groussard is given less dialogue, she plays perfectly off of Burge. Her naïve optimism of New York’s urban landscape works very well with her character, and she really gives the character more personality and agency than she would have otherwise gotten. It really does feel like Eli is a part of Joelle’s story by the end, not the other way around, and this is mostly due to how Groussard carries herself as a character.
One of the aspects I admire most about this film is how it is so effective without breaking the bank. Andre shot this movie himself (on what feels like a low budget camera), and it practically uses handheld, wide-angle shots exclusively, and it’s a perfect fit for the type of story he’s trying to tell. It’s like a combination of Terrence Malick’s signature contemporary look and the more frantic and free-flowing feel of the Dogme 95 and mumblecore movements of filmmaking. Andre’s debut is impressive, and I’ll definitely be citing it as a prime example of how to make a movie regardless of budget or other limitations. Pratfall is a gem of a film. It’s not perfect, and it has some odd moments that detract from its desired effect. However, this film has so much to praise, and it all falls under the umbrella of Andre’s vision on an utterly impressive debut feature. Not without its flaws, this is a sweet and simple story that audiences will connect with in one way or another if they let it. Pratfall is in theaters and on VOD April 26. Rating: 4/5 Review by Joseph Fayed  A parent should always consider what's in their child's best interests. Nowhere Special is a film that takes a child's well-being into consideration and a father having to use his intuition to make a crucial decision in a short period of time. The story packs its punches with a father and son at its forefront, acting out the emotional stakes of this unorthodox parenting tale while keeping its heart on its sleeve the entire time. John (James Norton) is a 35-year-old window washer with just months to live. In light of this, he must work with an adoption agency to find the right family for his four-year-old son Michael (Daniel Lamont) to live with after he dies. John struggles with making this life-altering decision for his son, feeling immense pressure to make the right choice. However, as time runs short, John must learn to let go and listen closely to the input of his four-year-old, who is catching on to why such a heartbreaking decision must be made. One thing the script impressively avoids is tropes about terminal illness. John's diagnosis isn't explained in detail, although there are moments where we do see how his condition affects his job and day-to-day life. John has to carry on with life even in the face of death. The plot never transforms into tragedy porn because there is so much focus on John and Michael and finding a new home for the latter. No life-and-death anecdotes are shared amongst characters or an overdrawn bedside moment set in a hospital. A Nicholas Sparks novel, this is not. It is about parenting first and foremost, and death, while inevitable, is not treated like a standard plot device.  Daniel Lamont really acts like he had such freedom with his character. For someone who is playing a main character who is only four years old, Michael is written as his age and not too mature. Michael is a kid who loves his dad. He seems confused when he and his dad are accompanied by a social worker to visit different families. While he may not fully understand why that is being done at first, it gives Michael a reason to love his dad even more. Normally, in a film, I would roll my eyes at this kind of character development only occurring as a direct result of a personal tragedy, but a child his age shouldn't be expected to grasp the emotional toll this has on the adults around him. That is why, in between potential family visits, any scenes with John and Michael are meant to show them bonding over the smallest of activities. There is such a warm and playful energy with Michael on screen that serves as the perfect contrast to what John is dealing with.
James Norton gives a stellar performance as John. Norton uses his range to be equally worrisome and wholesome at times. His chemistry with his co-star Lamont makes it seem like the two really bonded and that his wholesome demeanor rubbed off on his fictional son. The potential families they visit all have their own experiences with adoption that they unload onto John and Michael, each trying to seem less chaotic than the previous one. These interactions are kept brief, and one particular family shown is guaranteed to leave a sour taste in almost every viewer's mouth due to how unpleasant they are. The point of that scene is to prove the harsh reality of adoption; despite your appearance, not everyone is willing to cater to your needs. It's a notable departure from the rest of the film that gets John to question everything he and his son have been through. Nowhere Special was done in the name of fatherly love. It is impressive how two topics like adoption and terminal illness were written in such a way that they don't feel exploited for our pity. Kids really want nothing more than parents who love them, and vice versa, and John and Michael were two perfect embodiments of that. Nowhere Special is now in theaters. Rating: 5/5 Review by Cole Groth  Unsung Hero is your standard religious drama. If you're aware of the Christian music scene, you've undoubtedly listened to the work of the Christian pop band for KING & COUNTRY. The band, led by Australians Joel and Luke Smallbone, has won four Grammys since 2015 and has solidified themselves as one of the biggest Christian bands of our time. Now, the band's lead singer, Joel Smallbone, is ready to tell his life story as the director and lead actor in this basic, overdramatic biopic of his family and upbringing. With too much focus on religion and not enough good character moments, this falls flat across the board. Taking place in the early 1990s, Unsung Hero tells the story of David and Helen Smallbone, two hard-working Australian immigrants moving to Tennessee with their six children. The move to America isn't as bright as it seems, with the two facing many trials and tribulations on their journey to raise one of the most successful modern Christian artists. It's a narratively satisfying story that doesn't offer much of a unique perspective — the Smallbones face many challenges along the way but ultimately get through it thanks to their Christian faith. At the beginning of the film, Joel and Luke explain the thesis of the film's existence as a love letter to their parents and God. There's something very endearing about the fact that this was made less as an explanation of why the Smallbones are so successful but as a testament to their parents. David, the patriarch, is played by Joel himself and is shown to be an endlessly hard-working man alongside Helen, who tirelessly stretches every dollar in an attempt to feed her family. Even after working dozens of odd jobs to make ends meet, the Smallbones constantly find themselves with nothing left to their name. It feels a little unbelievable sometimes because even after receiving so much aid from others and getting so much work, the family is still totally broke. So, we're left with two conclusions: Joel is overplaying how much his family struggled or how hard his parents worked. Either one cuts into the credibility of the film.  The thing about Unsung Hero is that because the successful children tell the story, there aren't any flawed characters here. Joel and Helen are unflappable in their efforts to raise their children right and never do anything wrong. I don't get the impression that the story is entirely honest, and even if the Smallbones were such a flawless family, it's just not particularly interesting to watch. Every problem is one entirely because of the doing of others and gets solved through the family's resilience, Jesus, or the generosity of the kind Christians who surround them.
From a production standpoint, this is an entirely competent film. It's a tad long at almost two hours, but the editing is at least interesting enough to be a little captivating. The cinematography can be interesting at times, and the acting is good. Joel Smallbone, Daisy Betts, Kirrilee Berger, and Jonathan Jackson are a few of the actors in a very large cast that delivers a good performance, but Smallbone and Betts are clear standouts as the leads. As a film about for KING & COUNTRY, you'd probably expect more music to be made by the brothers of the band. Instead, all of the bland music featured in the film is from the daughter, Rebecca, instead. Those wanting to see how the band came to be might be disappointed by the lack of the brothers behind it. Unsung Hero falls into the pitfalls of almost all Christian films, having a contrived conflict entirely solved by faith in Christianity. The Smallbones face one true flaw in their parenting: they're too caring. Even when David gets angry at his children, it's clear that he has the best intentions when talking about what he's talking about. Even after the big argument in the film, the next scene undoes any potential conflict viewers might have about the characters. Fans of Christian filmmaking will probably not find much wrong with this, but is it too much to ask these types of movies to be less overbearing? Everybody but the Christians in this film are cruel to the Smallbones, making this feel like an ultimately shallow film. Unsung Hero releases in theaters starting April 26 Rating: 1.5/5 |