Mafroor 

Throughout Brendan Fraser’s career, he has played a plethora of unique, layered characters who explore the importance of not being afraid to display your emotions, something that is often seen to not be a masculine trait. This idea of regulating emotion and what traits men are able to possess creates a toxic atmosphere for men who are often told they should not cry or represent their emotions in any physical way. These characters represent that men can be joyful, emotionally conscious, and sensitive, while also representing their masculine identity instead of painting those qualities as fighting against their masculinity.

Despite its glaring flaws, First Girl I Loved is not entirely undeserving of a watch. For people who can handle the more difficult aspects of the story and graphic scenes, it is worth looking into. It’s not a film worthy of rewatch, but it may still resonate somewhat with those who need a story like this. It is a genuine, if flimsy attempt at a coming-of-age tale. Were the film to be directed by someone with experiences more similar to Anne, it would likely be more powerful--as it is, it feels like a man’s perspective of what it means to come to terms with your identity as a lesbian. 

You'd better buckle up, pack spare underwear, & maybe lay off the drinking for a night, for a gnarly ride in New York!

The film exhibits a respect for the craft and an empathy for human tribulations that have historically been ignored.

With The Father, writer-director Florian Zeller- who wrote and developed the play upon which the film is based- pulls no punches as he confidently makes every effort to put the audience in the mind of someone whose grip on reality has all but vanished. It’s a dazzling testament to Zeller’s abilities as a director as he makes his first transition from stage to film appear as if he’s been working behind a camera his entire career. The dialogue he fashions with co-writer Christopher Hampton, along with the work of production designers Peter Francis and Cathy Featherstone, collectively makes the downward spiral of dementia startlingly tangible, doing so in a way that can be comprehended by everyone except the person it directly affects.

Hanna Bergholm's 'Hatching' shows us that the modern version of the cardboard world trope is social media.