Yara (2021): An Unfocused True Crime Narrative
The trouble with Yara (2021) is that in its attempt to tell the whole story, it struggles to tell a consistently engaging story.

Director's statement: "Back home in Hawaii this past summer, the thing that mesmerized me most was the massive amounts of development in the city. This shifting skyline — 22 condos going up in Kakaako alone, I’m told. I’m neither for nor against all this change but I’m not ambivalent either, transitions are always powerful."
The trouble with Yara (2021) is that in its attempt to tell the whole story, it struggles to tell a consistently engaging story.
“To be universal, you have to get specific”: while the film does not attempt to provoke discussions about queerness or race, those watching closely may find something resonant in Sorrentino’s love letter to the Naples of his youth.
At 2:17 a.m., every child in a third-grade class wakes up, leaves their home, and disappears into the darkness—except one. The next day, teacher Justine Gandy discovers that Alex Lily is the only student left, while the rest have vanished without a trace. Did Justine have something to do with it, or is a far more sinister force stalking the town, targeting not just children, but anyone in its path?
Of the 28 total films I watched, just six of them were queer or featured queer characters in some way.
With so many Disney remakes out and about in the world and loosed upon Hollywood cinema, there is one Disney film that truly needs to be seen and witnessed on the big screen: Princess and the Frog.
Holiday hijinks ensue when a recently separated couple are both accidently invited to same holiday celebration.