'Don't Worry Darling' Review: 'Get Out' But For White Women
Essentially 'Get Out' but for white women, 'Don't Worry Darling' has strong material with its twist reveal, but the writing and directing falter trying to execute it.

Raymonde - diva, queen, enigma, inspiration, survivor, widow, woman, and mother. Armed with a camera, Yael Abecassis followed her mother and stepped into a world where she had always been a stranger. "You know, daughter, Morocco is a kind of therapy," Raymonde says, and for the first time, they embark on a journey together: from a childhood in the mellah of Casablanca to the dunes of Ashdod and back to Morocco, where the mother became the legendary Raymonde El Bidaoia - a world-famous Moroccan singer. As they journey, Yael discovers a woman who articulates her weaknesses and the complexities of her choices with keen self-awareness, even when mother and daughter are transposed, twined together by guilt, admiration, pain, and above all else - limitless love and music.
Essentially 'Get Out' but for white women, 'Don't Worry Darling' has strong material with its twist reveal, but the writing and directing falter trying to execute it.
Joann Kohng’s Subject to IX tells the heartbreaking truth of the Title IX rules that colleges abide by.
It’s dark, uncomfortable, and there are things that don’t make sense.
Carolina Caroline follows Caroline (Samara Weaving), a bored young woman dreaming of escaping a small Texas town where nothing ever happens. When she meets Oliver (Kyle Gallner) at her workplace while he is conning the owner, she sees her perfect opportunity to get out. Their whirlwind romance strongly echoes Bonnie and Clyde, as the two quickly embark on a bank-robbing spree.
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.