'Let It Snow': An Ironic Title to this Teen Comedy
One Christmas Eve, after a sudden snowstorm, a group of teenagers will discover how their lives will change forever.

Eustache’s grandmother Odette Robert was a key figure in his life, serving as a substitute mother during much of his childhood (My Little Loves was dedicated to her). In 1971, he recorded an interview with her that went largely unseen until 2003—Eustache never screened the complete film publicly, although a radically truncated version was presented on television. In a string of long, stationary takes, the camera watches over Eustache’s shoulder while he pours countless glasses of whiskey and Odette tells the stories of her life. A number of her themes resonate with those of Eustache’s films: cruelty, male philandering, the Rosière festival of Pessac. Number Zero is a return to origins—of cinema and of the self—and an experiment in narration, both restrained and deeply personal.
One Christmas Eve, after a sudden snowstorm, a group of teenagers will discover how their lives will change forever.
Based on the novel by Jennifer Mathieu and directed by Amy Poehler takes on intersectional feminism.
Let it Snow in a nutshell, is a warmhearted coming of age teen Christmas movie.
Dramatic Horror!!! Wait, what?? Did you say "dramatic horror"?? IS there such a thing?? I mean, TRULY. Well, if San Francisco-based, Pakistani-born independent filmmaker Dr. Hassan Zee and this film critic have anything to say about it, there IS such a beast as experienced through the director's newest feature film set to officially debut October 4th in the City by the Bay. Folks, indie film will always be a bastion of experimentation and originality, and this film for me fits that bill.
The plot could’ve really been interesting if the elements of lycanthropy was integrated with perhaps the struggle of identity of being LGBTQ+. It's an experience for so many that as they’re starting to realizing their true selves, they feel like a monster, especially if they come from unsupportive homes or communities. Instead, the horror and transformation elements seem thrown in without contemplation of how this could deepen the narrative.
Like most young people, Leviticus is imperfect. But I love it anyways.