Nothing much works in this forced rom-com except the put-together looks of its attractive 30-something cast. Intended laughs fall flat and dramatic situations feel largely shallow and artificial in F*ck Love Too. Some scenarios are surprisingly off-tone for the times, like a man asking his grumpy friend if he "has his period" or advising him to send a "d--k pic" (then sending him one of his own as inspiration), or a woman saying her "days of pleasure are numbered" because she's getting married. You can pile a bunch of beautiful people together, send them to Ibiza, and invent reasons for their relationships to go off course, but stringing it all together into a meaningful hour and a half requires something deeper than this film attempts. Read the full review at Common Sense Media. Images courtesy of Netflix.

Portuguese film The Tsugua Diaries (Diários de Otsoga) provides a thought-provoking and sense-arousing time capsule of a globally unforgettable moment. Within the confines of the summer 2020 pandemic lockdown, co-directors Maureen Fazendeiro and Miguel Gomes probe concepts of storytelling and character development by recounting 22 days on a film set – backwards. The result is at times dull, realistically and symbolically so. But as an intellectual exercise, Diaries proposes some provocative ideas by deconstructing traditional notions of time, story and character. This isn’t the first movie to tell a tale in reverse nor to make a film within a film. But the curiosity here is that there is no real story in either sphere beyond the fact that a group of people has gathered in a rural Portuguese estate to make a movie. It’s often hard to distinguish between real life and what’s being filmed, and we don’t even know there’s a movie being made until well into the tale. The three actors (Crista Alfaiate, João Nunes Monteiro and Carloto Cotta) seem to be simply living their daily lives, taking care of the grounds and their pets. They find an old pool and clean it out, have meetings about the movie, build a butterfly garden, seemingly flirt with each other, and occasionally party. There’s not a lot of dialogue between the trio, and the conversations they do have are largely meaningless. In one scene, a group of people gleefully ride a tractor. Later we hear a prior exchange where one of the directors proposes that scene to the other, who responds, “I’m not sure I see the point.” That sense of pointlessness parallels another conversation where the actors express frustration with the lack of direction they’re getting, and the directors explain that they’re not actually looking to create characters or a story between them. They’re very self-serious about the endeavor, but it’s hard not to suspect that it’s all a big joke too. The film’s backwards title (August – Tsugua / Otsoga – Agosto) suggests the same. Of course, it would be more laughable if it weren’t for COVID, which becomes a scarier reality as the days count down – until we’re right at the start with a man in full hazmat suit and sanitizer spray pack explaining minute hygiene details required by state health officials and the Portuguese Film Commission. Then again, his instructions are conspicuously drowned out by a cat meowing, and things devolve during a Q&A into a debate about the breakfast provided for the crew. We detect a combination of self-aware humor, self-serious filmic commentary and undeniably grave, disorienting pandemic circumstances. A story does slowly evolve, and provocatively so, because by being told in reverse, actions that have already taken place on screen are only eventually explained and contextualized. Also, since we don’t know at the beginning that the characters are being filmed as a part of a movie in progress, we don’t really understand who they are, what they’re doing there or why they’re living in an apparently remote, unpopulated compound. The first time we see a fourth and then more and more people, it’s surprising. The set-up could easily turn viewers off, and the movie requires patience. It could be relegated for the time being to the critical class (The New York Times critic called it her “favorite movie” of last year’s Toronto International Film Festival, and it’s played in other festivals including Cannes). But there’s much here of appeal beyond the narrative. The film’s young cast, the starkly-sunlit, arid location and the occasional acoustic guitar melodies in the background are all pleasing. There’s also clearly some symbolism to unpack, for example in the piece of quince fruit that starts out rotten on day 22 and is gradually restored to freshly picked by day 1. (It’s hard not to think of neighboring Spaniard Victor Erice’s 1992 film painstakingly documenting a painter’s rendering of a quince tree in Dream of Light, or El Sol del Membrillo – The Quince Tree Sun.) Closing credits inform us the film was made “in lockdown regime” between August 17 and September 10, 2020. Diaries is for all those who found those weeks of forced isolation boring and claustrophobic, and for those who felt time was standing still or had lost all meaning. This review originally ran on the Alliance of Women Film Journalists web. Photo courtesy of KimStim Films.

This good-natured, Australia-set romance banks on viewers wanting low-effort, formulaic fare that's pleasant, predictable, and easy on the eyes. In fact, A Perfect Pairing is strikingly similar in storyline, tone, and even lead actor (Demos) to the 2019 Netflix title Falling Inn Love. The formula has been improved, though, and Pairing is the more engaging feature, thanks in large part to former Nickelodeon star Justice. She appears in almost every scene and is relatable and charming, though not entirely believable working the farm in perfect hair and makeup. The location is stunning, and the communal cast is affable though thinly developed and largely forgettable. Read the full review at Common Sense Media. Images courtesy of Netflix.

This film exploits a clever concept of combining animation and cartoon styles across a range of characters and eras in a detective tale starring humans and CG characters. The inclusion of dozens of past and present Disney characters, properties, and storylines on display in Chip 'n Dale: Rescue Rangers can feel like an advertisement, one giant billboard or trailer. But there's visually a lot on offer here as well as some fun meta-commentary about what we're seeing, like characters and places representative of styles from specific moments in history. This film is for fans of the characters, of Disney, and of the evolving technologies fueling the animation industry, all of whom could feel like they're in on a big inside joke. Read the full review at Common Sense Media. Images courtesy of Disney+.

This film has the look and feel of a TV movie, and Major Dodson's heartfelt portrayal of a teen with autism is nearly undermined by other, less subtle performances, themes, and concepts. But ultimately Tyson's Run has enough heart and an uplifting story "inspired by a real boy" to balance out and offer a film that may speak especially to those with friends or family members on the spectrum. Some fancy camerawork at the start of the movie (shot from inside a computer screen or football helmet) is mostly abandoned later and doesn't match the rest of the by-the-books filming. The cast is a bit uneven here too, unfortunately. Abdi deserves more screen time, and his Aklilu comes across as both world-weary and wisely optimistic. Smart and Cochrane overly dramatize their performances as Tyson's panicky mom and unhappy dad (Cochrane might not smile once this whole film). But Dodson, billed as "on the spectrum" himself, puts in an affecting performance that gives viewers a character and journey to root for. This, in turn, makes the film's climactic ending moving despite its improbability. Read the full review at Common Sense Media. Image courtesy of Collide Distribution.

It would be hard not to be affected by Fire in the Mountains‘ dire story of one woman’s personal struggles in a Himalayan village. Embodied within her story are larger themes, clear but crafted in subtle and realistic ways, about a woman’s place in her world and the simmering conflict between traditional and modern India. Set in a beautiful area touted as the Switzerland of India for its spectacular Himalayan views, the film contrasts that natural beauty with the scarcity and hardships of its villagers. Chandra (Vinamrata Rai) would do anything for her young son, who doesn’t walk although the doctors say his legs work just fine. She has saved up money by renting a room to tourists in their humble mountaintop home. Her goal is to get a road built up to their location so her son, Prakesh (Mayank Singh Jaira), can attend school and tourists can arrive more conveniently. She is so single-minded she seems almost not to notice the physical burdens of her work as she carries her son up and down the mountain for doctor’s appointments, cooks, cleans and labors in the fields without breaks. She ignores her daughter’s significant academic accomplishments, focusing instead on the teen’s burgeoning flirtation with a local boy. And she compromises herself to curry favor from a local decision-maker who could greenlight the road project. Meanwhile, Chandra’s husband, Dharam (Chandan Bisht), doesn’t seem to do much work and passes out drunk regularly. He’s convinced an ancient ceremony will bring the impoverished family better luck and his son the ability to walk. When the local guru suggests Dharam has disobeyed his ancestors’ wishes by not conducting the ceremony, and that he must take charge of his home and his wife, Dharam becomes violent. He beats Chandra up and steals her hard-earned savings. As much as Chandra outworks and outwits her hapless husband, she is still subject to his – and other men’s – whims. But her daughter, Kanchan (Harshita Tiwari), suggests another life for women is possible in their setting. She excels at school, controls the flirtation with the local boy, outwardly explores her own sexuality through Tik Tok videos and is not intimidated by her parents nor convinced to follow in their footsteps. Why Chandra seems to care so much more for her son feels both unfair and perhaps cultural, and her own behavior can border on cruelty. When her husband whips their daughter, there’s a glimmer of a smile on her face. Has she internalized the same gender roles that have oppressed her? Does she hold some resentment towards her daughter’s education and freedom? It’s unclear and typical of how little Chandra outwardly emotes, part of actress Rai’s understated, realistic portrayal of a resolute woman. All the members of the family seem to have secrets, and some are easier to explain than others. No character escapes the harsh reality of writer-director Ajitpal Singh’s prying camera. The son’s motivations for what he’s hiding are perhaps the most opaque, though in light of the bullying schoolchildren surrounding him and the arduous life facing adults in the village, escape certainly seems attractive. Scenes are often set to radio news recounting the progresses and successes of the Indian government, auguring a near future for the country as a modern “superpower” in contrast to the poverty the villagers live in. While the radio announces the government is building roads to every village in India, Chandra’s struggle shows the reality. Dharam’s insistence on trusting a guru and an ancient ritual are juxtaposed against Chandra’s more practical efforts of saving money, greasing hands and exchanging favors. When a miracle seems to take place during the ceremony, shaping the ambiguous final scene of the film, it’s clear the ritual will be unduly credited. This review was originally published with the Alliance of Women Film Journalists. Images courtesy of Kino Lorber.

This is a well-intentioned movie with some solid actors and a refreshingly diverse cast who deserved fleshier characters and a more rounded story. The likable actors make Crush watchable, but the film's world feels largely superficial. It also seems like anything goes at their high school. Partying and sex are promoted by parents, and the characters drink and smoke with surprisingly little reflection -- in contrast to how minutely attuned they are to questions of their own and each other's sexual identity. Paige's homosexuality is her dominant character trait for the first chunk of the movie. When she begins to really connect with AJ, the film gets a bit deeper. The adults, unfortunately, barely scratch the surface, despite a trio of talented comedic actors. The cynical school coach is hilariously played by Aasif Mandvi, and Michelle Buteau deserved a bigger role as principal. But Will & Grace's Megan Mullally is strapped with a mom character who is meant to be hipper than her daughter, but who comes across as pandering (outside of one meaningful advice scene). There are plenty of better films and series out there tackling same-sex teen romance, from Love, Simon to Love, Victor to Sex Education to Heartstopper. Read the full review at Common Sense Media. Image courtesy of Hulu.

As an interviewee in this documentary notes, Marilyn Monroe has always elicited a combination of fascination and empathy among both men and women, and this film proves that point again. The Mystery of Marilyn Monroe: The Unheard Tapes is set up like a whodunit, complete with dramatic music and moody footage to complement the glamorous archive images and clips of 1950s and 1960s Hollywood. The film opens and closes on the voice of the actress and a brisk introduction starring the film's main narrator, author Anthony Summers, who tells us that after years of research and 1,000 interviews for his Monroe book, Goddess, he concluded that the circumstances of Marilyn's death were covered up. Summers delivers evidence about the day and night of her death (no spoilers here, though the book was originally published in 1985) and plenty of analysis from friends and colleagues about Marilyn's psyche, her character, and her actions. There's so much detail here, viewers may feel they need to take notes lest they miss something. Summers leads us through excerpts from more than a dozen recorded interviews to flesh out a story that spans the movie industry, Kennedy-era politics, and the larger Cold War context of the 1960s. The filmmakers opted to use actors -- placed in dimly-lit, mid-century-styled clothing and settings -- to lip-synch the taped interviews. It's a curious choice that gives the viewer something to look at but also puts false faces to the voices of very real people, some of whom were famous in their own right -- like John Huston, Billy Wilder, and Jane Russell. These are supplemented with quite a lot of archive footage and location tape as well, particularly of Los Angeles through the decades. The lasting effect of Monroe's childhood trauma is broached, and it's clear most of the interviewees cared deeply for her. Audiences still seem to as well. Read the full review on Common Sense Media. Images courtesy of Netflix

This is an example of a film with a great premise and a hilarious lead actress that just doesn't get off the ground. That isn't to say that Senior Year doesn't have some very funny moments and lines -- it does, but the package as a whole feels flimsy and potentially rushed. When Stephanie wakes up after 20 years in a coma, she should require more than a day to get accustomed to her new reality and jump back into high school. Obviously, the script needs to get her there quickly, but overstepping any actual adjustments is disconcerting and, as with the rest of the movie, prioritizes scenarios over actual character development and story. Perhaps appropriately for the setting, Wilson and her schoolmates all seem to fit stereotypes rather than having actual personalities of their own. Still, Wilson is the perfect actress for a woman in a 37-year-old's body but who is "mentally still 17." She plays clueless perfectly (and Rice is excellent as her younger self). Speaking of Clueless, Alicia Silverstone has a meta cameo here as a character who lived Stephanie's dream and learned from it that popularity in high school doesn't necessarily bring happiness. The film comments on the "intense but delicate ecosystem" of high school and pokes fun at both contemporary and 90s-era teens. The contrast between the two that Wilson's character allows for is where Senior Year lands its best jokes -- like when she pulls out a chunky calculator to try to fit in with all the kids on their smartphones, or her confusion over the political correctness of today's students (particularly Ari's "authentic, socially-conscious, body-positive, environmentally-aware and economically-compassionate brand"). Read the full review at Common Sense Media. Images courtesy of Netflix.

This gender-swapped Cinderella tale might feel a bit too sweet for teens, but its diverse cast, uplifting story, and genre-blending song-and-dance numbers are charmingly original and fun. Sneakerella is High School Musical meets In the Heights. The action takes place in a Disney-fied New York City (read: safe and tidy, with happy people singing and dancing on streets and subway trains). It brings the HSM aesthetic to Queens and Manhattan with a bit less humor and a bit more street cred (imagine Sharpay on the subway), but no more realism. Some characters deserved more screen time, especially fairy godfather Gustavo and celebrity athlete Darius King, but it's entertaining to see the usual Cinderella roles occupied by the opposite genders. Its young stars are talented and charismatic, especially lead Jacobs and the scene-stealing Nekoda as best friend Sami. Underwood is underused. Two highlights of the movie are a scheming number sung by the evil but dimwitted stepbrothers and a rap battle between El and King. In the first one, cartoon character shadows appear on the walls behind them. It's one of many uses of moving graphics and illustrations on top of the live-action scenes, and the whimsical concept plays off the sneaker theme. Read the full review at Common Sense Media. Images courtesy of Disney+.

Swedish director Ninja Thyberg’s debut feature Pleasure pushes the boundaries between objective storytelling and voyeurism, and it does so with a heavy dose of realism, including a majority of the cast coming from the adult film industry itself, which makes the film both absorbing and very hard to watch. It’s impossible not to feel a sense of dread throughout Pleasure, and that is exactly the point. Nineteen-year-old Swede Linnéa, stage name Bella Cherry (played, perhaps surprisingly, by a first-time actress, Sofia Kappel), has arrived in Los Angeles with a plan: she wants to be the next big porn star. She has an agent who puts her up with other actresses in a small and shabby house, and she starts working immediately. Before her first film, she gets stage fright and almost backs out. But by the end, not only has she successfully shot her first porn, she’s proudly taking and posting selfies of her face covered in semen. The vacillating makes Bella difficult to read. This is clear right from an opening scene, presumably at LAX customs, when she declares with the slightest grin that she’s in town for pleasure (not business). We don’t know why she’s doing what she’s doing. She says she likes to perform, and the film seems to want to comment on life as performance in the age of social media. She’s clearly ambitious – more so than some of her roommates, including Florida native Katie (stage name Joy), who becomes her best friend but seems to have already maxed out her career potential and chooses friendship over career anytime. When she sets her sights on the industry’s top manager, Bella willingly puts herself into increasingly painful, dangerous, and apparently soul-sucking situations to land him. Some of these scenes are brutal to watch as Bella gets tied up, whipped, strangled, spit on, slapped, pushed around, and “raped for hours” (her words). The scenes appear physically and emotionally traumatic. She vomits after one; in another, she’s reminded of her “safe words” and told how best to recuperate from soreness the day after. The graphic sex scenes are filmed with ambient sound, interspersed with disconcerting spiritual hymns, and harsh light. Body parts are shot close up, mostly penises but we do see Bella shaving her pubis and bottom in the shower in an early scene. Other aspects seem plucked from director Thyberg’s months of meticulous on-site research, like the many tools of the trade, handheld filming styles, and exhaustive consent papers and videos. When Bella breaks down and asks to stop filming a scene where two men are physically and verbally abusing her, the tormentors turn into soft-spoken gentlemen, comforting her and telling her what a great job she’s doing. In the end, though, they guilt her into finishing the cut. Not to mention she’s alone in a trailer in the middle of an industrial no-man’s-land with three muscular guys getting increasingly impatient with her. This is an underbelly of Los Angeles. We see Bella driving around for hours (often filmed Lolita-style with just her white sunglasses and red lips showing in the rear-view mirror) to shoot scenes in warehouses, trailers and tract houses. The porn industry is depicted as almost entirely run and consumed by men, but made sellable by beautiful young women put into humiliating and potentially painful situations. Bella wants to “take control” of her career, and Joy suggests they should start their own female-owned business, but it’s clear these dreams are unlikely to happen. Another woman casually tells the story of her agent essentially pimping her out to a man. The most successful of the porn stars appear the most emotionally traumatized. When Bella tries apologizing to one after a rough scene together, the woman doesn’t seem to understand why she’s owed an apology despite having been practically tortured on air. Meanwhile, Bella appears to have a loving family at home, including a mom who thinks she’s in LA for an internship and just needs to stick it out to make it work. It’s one more piece, like the abrupt final scene, that makes Bella – and the adult film industry as a whole – an enigma. Read the full review at the Alliance of Women Film Journalists. Images courtesy of NEON.

Buoyed by a steady pace and restrained lead performances, this film crafts a gentler, calmer world than many teen films. That doesn't mean that Along for the Ride is entirely lighthearted: The main characters are both dealing with letting go of rigidity or stress to live more happily and freely. In subtle but effective ways, writer-director Alvarez shows how carefree and cheerful life could be for happy, healthy teens, a helpful reminder in stressful times. The most memorable is an overhead shot of a pile of content kids lying on each other at the beach watching fireworks above. Other scenes show Auden beginning to loosen up and enjoy real friendship with the energetic trio of local girls. Pasarow's facial expressions and body language convey even slight evolutions of character. The film hints at realistic facts of teen life, like sex, drinking, and differing sexual orientations, but it opts not to explore these more fully. Characters drink out of tumblers and carry what looks like a 6-pack in a paper bag into a party; they spend the night together without specifically revealing what happened; they talk about same-sex crushes without showing any actual same-sex couples. But this works for the story and doesn't feel like obfuscation. The film has a woman's perspective -- on relationships, motherhood, and divorce -- but the male characters are likable and show evolution as well. Veterans MacDowell, Mulroney, and Bosworth deliver understated performances that complement the discovery of newcomers, led by Pasarow, Cameli, and Kariuki. Read the full review at Common Sense Media. Images courtesy of Netflix.