Review by Chadd Clubine

​Alexander Skarsgård has made a formidable impression through his film and television work over the past decade, and his name alone may be the film’s strongest draw aside from its premise. Opposite him is Harry Melling, whom many will recognize from the Harry Potter series. The two performers could not be more different, a contrast that ultimately makes them ideal for their respective roles. Skarsgård excels in a part seemingly tailored to his strengths, while Melling emerges as a compelling and assured leading man. Together, their performances bring the film’s themes into sharp focus, allowing its ideas to resonate long after the final frame.
 
Since premiering last May at the Cannes Film Festival, the film has generated significant buzz, maintaining a perfect 100% rating on Rotten Tomatoes across 90 reviews. Given the nature of its plot—particularly its focus on a submissive relationship—the film skillfully balances discomfort with relatability. While such dynamics exist in the real world, few films have captured them on a grand scale as effectively as Pillion. Its deliberate, unhurried pacing draws the viewer deeper into each moment, allowing the audience to intuit the characters’ inner lives without the film ever needing to state them outright.
 
The film’s structure closely recalls Jean-Luc Godard’s Breathless, particularly in its editing rhythms and the way information is withheld and revealed. Key information is deliberately omitted, only to resurface later in fuller detail, a choice that can reframe earlier moments upon rewatch. While this fragmentation can add new layers of meaning, it also risks withholding essential information that might have delivered an even stronger emotional impact. Still, these stylistic decisions create a sense of emotional reserve that mirrors the characters themselves. Skarsgård’s character is as fearful as Melling’s, even if his outward confidence suggests otherwise.

The characters and the world they inhabit are richly textured, with every scene feeling purposeful and deliberate. The cinematography captures the essence of what the characters see and feel, while the sound design reinforces the quiet, insular environment they occupy, deepening the film’s sense of immersion. The score is understated yet effective, becoming especially memorable in the moments when it does emerge. Key lines of dialogue resonate later in the film, gaining greater significance in retrospect. Ultimately, the film is at its strongest in its quietest moments.
 
Several plot threads linger without full exploration, particularly those involving Melling’s character and his family. The film effectively presents him as younger than his actual age, reinforced by the fact that he still lives with his parents. Their support is genuine, though tinged with an overprotectiveness that helps explain his desire to break free. While this dynamic is illuminating, the film largely steps away from his family in its latter half. By contrast, Skarsgård’s character is easy to understand on a surface level, yet the film similarly hesitates to delve deeper into his background, leaving aspects of his emotional makeup only partially explored.
 
By the end, the film may leave you wanting more—but that lingering sense of absence is precisely the point. Writer-director Harry Lighton presents love from every angle, offering a fresh and intimate perspective. Most viewers will recognize themselves in these two characters and the choices they make. While certain events may stretch plausibility, the emotional truth remains intact: the way people can lose themselves in relationships, and how those same connections can ultimately help them grow, change, and move toward something greater.

Pillion is in theaters February 6th!

Review by Adam Donato

Review by Chadd Clubine

The Moment is a film you either get or you don’t. Fans of Charli XCX will likely connect with it most, while those already familiar with the artist may find a degree of satisfaction in its references and tone. Viewers unfamiliar with her work, however, are likely to feel lost, as the film assumes a baseline knowledge of the pop singer and offers little context in return. Tonally, the film reaches for multiple genres—thriller, drama, and comedy—through a mockumentary lens, but never successfully justifies why this stylistic approach is necessary, leaving the film feeling scattered rather than purposeful.

Unlike most A24 films that announce themselves with the familiar logo, this film opts for a more distinctive and invigorating opening—one that immediately plunges the viewer into the chaos of Charli XCX’s world. The colors are vibrant, the editing intoxicating, and the music perfectly attuned to the mood. Yet after those opening minutes, the film quickly drifts into something slower and increasingly uncertain of its own direction.
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Conceived from an idea by Charli XCX herself, the film brims with concepts and succeeds, at least initially, in conveying the frenetic nature of her lifestyle. The issue, however, is that there is little for the audience to hold onto: characterization is thin, narrative momentum is scarce, and the abundance of ideas never coalesces into a compelling story.

Charli XCX proves herself to be a capable actress, suggesting a believable transition from music to film. Her restrained performance—often masking rather than expressing emotion—makes her character surprisingly easy to connect with. Alexander Skarsgård similarly makes the most of his role, delivering several of the film’s strongest moments.

​It’s the film’s handling of the remaining cast that becomes increasingly baffling. Characters appear and disappear with little explanation, and beyond Charli XCX, Skarsgård, and a handful of cameos, few leave any lasting impression. One cameo in particular is given an extended amount of screen time, only for its presence to ultimately feel inconsequential.

Director Aidan Zamiri’s approach closely aligns with Charli XCX’s creative instincts. While the film’s unconventional editing initially stands out, its overuse—paired with relentlessly shaky camerawork—ultimately turns the experience into something overwhelming and even nauseating. The film clearly wants to be funny, but its humor struggles to land when the visual language is steeped in constant panic and sensory overload. That said, this aggressive visual style may resonate with fans of the artist, as it mirrors the frenetic, maximalist energy Charli XCX often channels through her music.

Viewers may be reminded of This Is Spinal Tap—and its sequel—given that all three films are mockumentaries centered on English artists. On paper, applying that approach to a more contemporary figure feels fitting; in execution, however, The Moment never quite measures up to its inspiration. This Is Spinal Tap succeeds because it convincingly mimics a real documentary, despite following a fictional band. The Moment, by contrast, rarely feels like a documentary at all.

Its highly stylized camerawork undermines the mockumentary premise, with only a single scene acknowledging the presence of a cameraman. The film is shot from countless angles, yet the people behind the camera are rarely seen, making it difficult to buy into the illusion. Each time the film reminds you it’s meant to be a mockumentary, the artifice becomes harder to ignore.
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The Moment is ultimately a film made for fans. Admirers of the singer will likely respond to its aesthetic, as it fully embraces her sensibility and creative style. As a narrative, however, the film never quite takes off, offering little in the way of story or characterization for viewers to latch onto. There are plenty of intriguing ideas at play, but most feel underdeveloped and in need of more time to breathe. Still, the film’s willingness to push boundaries gives it a certain appeal, even as it struggles to define exactly what it wants to be.

The Moment is in theaters February 6th!

Review by Adam Donato

Review by Steve Barton II