Glendale Archives – Page 2 Of 49

Big Emotions, Small Runtime: Why the Oscar Shorts Matter

February 17, 2026 by Lamb Laemmle Leave a Comment

Every year, the Oscar-nominated short films deliver some of the boldest storytelling, the biggest emotional swings, and the most inventive filmmaking anywhere on the ballot. They’re compact, adventurous, and often unforgettable — and seeing them before the ceremony doesn’t just make you a more informed viewer; it gives you a real edge in our ongoing Oscar contest. If you want a competitive advantage (and bragging rights), the shorts are your secret weapon.

Big Emotions, Small Runtime: Why the Oscar Shorts Matter — “Retirement Plan”

Come see the 2026 slate of Oscar-nominated shorts beginning February 20th at various Laemmle locations.

This year’s nominees across the Animated, Live Action, and Documentary categories once again prove that small runtimes can deliver enormous impacts. After all, we love short things: short stories, short ribs, short naps, short lines at the concession stand — and yes, short films.

Animated Short Film Nominees

This year’s entries for animation range from historical to mythic to darkly funny:

Butterfly (France) paints the life of Olympic swimmer Alfred Nakache—from glory to Auschwitz and back again—as a flowing stream of memory.
Forevergreen (USA) delivers an eco-fable about an orphaned bear cub and its arboreal protector.
The Girl Who Cried Pearls (Canada) offers a haunting, handcrafted tale of love, sorrow, and avarice.
Retirement Plan (Ireland) brings wry humor to a man’s elaborate fantasies about his golden years.
The Three Sisters (Israel/Cyprus) unfolds wordlessly, following siblings surviving in isolation.

Live Action Short Film Nominees

The live-action lineup is especially wide-ranging this year as satire, dystopia, tenderness, and social tension all share the same stage:

Butcher’s Stain (Israel) centers on an Arab-Israeli supermarket worker accused of tearing down hostage posters at his workplace.
Jane Austen’s Period Drama (USA) is an Austen-inspired satire about a woman whose sudden menstruation interrupts her much-anticipated marriage proposal.
Two People Exchanging Saliva (France/USA) imagines a future where kissing is punishable by death.
A Friend of Dorothy (UK) follows a lonely widow whose routine is broken by an unexpected connection.
The Singers (USA) builds drama around an unlikely sing-off, inspired by Turgenev’s lauded short story.

Documentary Short Film Nominees

The documentary shorts continue to be a testing ground for urgent, personal, and formally daring nonfiction:

All the Empty Rooms depicts the profound grief of school shootings via the untouched bedrooms of its victims.
Armed Only with a Camera: The Life and Death of Brent Renaud honors the life, career, and death of an American journalist killed in Ukraine.
Children No More: “Were and Are Gone” follows Israeli peace activists holding silent vigils in Tel Aviv for slain Gazan children.
The Devil Is Busy chronicles the day-to-day operations of a reproductive health clinic post-Roe v. Wade.
Perfectly a Strangeness follows three donkeys exploring an abandoned observatory.

Previous short-film winners have gone on to become cultural touchstones and launch major careers, and they frequently preview themes and talents that shape the future of feature filmmaking. Watching them now isn’t just homework — it’s discovery.

‘Starman’ and the Case for Cosmic Curiosity

February 10, 2026 by Lamb Laemmle Leave a Comment

Robert Stone’s documentary Starman is a reflective, wonder-driven journey through the history of space exploration, scientific imagination, and one of humanity’s most enduring questions: Are we alone? Rather than building a conspiracy or chasing sensational revelations, the film takes a more intimate and philosophical route, centering on one remarkable figure—NASA engineer, mission planner, and science-fiction collaborator Gentry Lee—and using his life and outlook as a guide through decades of cosmic discovery.

Tune into Inside the Arthouse on February 11th to hear Gentry Lee and Robert Stone discuss their mind-expanding documentary with co-hosts Greg Laemmle and Raphael Sbarge, or come to the Laemmle Glendale for a series of post-viewing Q&As running February 13-16th.

Now in his eighties, Lee proves an unexpectedly magnetic on-screen presence. Sharp, funny, and visibly thrilled by the prospect of the unknown, he serves as the film’s narrator and emotional anchor. His career connects him directly to many of NASA’s landmark achievements, including the Viking missions to Mars and the Galileo mission to Jupiter, as well as creative collaborations with Carl Sagan and Arthur C. Clarke. Through Lee, the film links the technical realities of planetary science with the imaginative power of science fiction, showing how each has fueled the other’s progress across the generations.

Starman unfolds largely through extended conversations with Lee, interwoven with rich archival footage and a wide-ranging visual collage: historic NASA imagery, cultural touchstones from classic science-fiction films, television broadcasts, and deep-space photography. The result is less a straight chronological history than a flowing meditation on curiosity, ambition, and perspective. The documentary repeatedly returns to the emotional impact of first contact with cosmic imagery: the transformative power of seeing Earth from afar, the shock of planetary landscapes, and the strange mix of triumph and anticlimax that followed the initial moon landing.

At its most interesting, Starman wrestles with ambiguity. Lee openly embraces uncertainty about extraterrestrial life, arguing that the absence of proof is not a disappointment but rather a motivation to continue searching. One of his recurrent ideas—that advanced civilizations may be rare not because they never arise, but because they don’t last—gives the film a quiet philosophical edge. Space exploration, in this view, becomes a mirror held up to Earth: a reminder of our fragility, responsibility, and intrinsically shared fate.

Gentler and more personal than most modern space documentaries, Starman aims less to dazzle than to rekindle, inviting viewers not just to look outward, but to rediscover the nearly forgotten thrill of simply looking up.

“Full of extraordinary footage, Robert Stone’s blissed-out mind-bender of a movie meditates on the possibilities of life in the universe.” – Owen Gleiberman, Variety

“[Gentry Lee] commands the screen every time he is on it telling stories about his involvements with the space program as well as his associations with some of the greatest scientific and science fiction writers of all time.” – Dan Pal, PalCinema

‘The Love That Remains’: Comedy, Melancholy, and the Strange Work of Letting Go

February 3, 2026 by Lamb Laemmle Leave a Comment

With The Love That Remains, Hlynur Pálmason shifts gears from the icy severity of Godland and the simmering grief of A White, White Day to deliver a warm yet quietly devastating portrait of a family learning how to (co-)exist after a marriage ends. Set against Iceland’s imposing yet luminous landscapes, the film follows a separated couple and their three children across the uneasy months following their split, blending domestic realism with eccentric surrealism to capture the strange emotional limbo that follows love’s collapse. Both gently comic and deeply melancholic, the film becomes less about the breakup itself than about what persists in the wake of its dissolution: habit, tenderness, resentment, and the stubborn bonds that refuse to vanish on schedule.

Tune into Inside the Arthouse on February 4th to hear Pálmason discuss his latest work with co-hosts Greg Laemmle and Raphael Sbarge ahead of its debut at the Laemmle Royal and Glendale theaters beginning February 6th.

Rather than tracing a traditional narrative arc, Pálmason presents a series of vignettes that drift between everyday routine and flights of imagination. Magnus, or Maggi (Sverrir Gudnason), works long stretches aboard a fishing trawler, returning home to a family life that no longer fully includes him. His estranged wife Anna (Saga Garðarsdóttir), an artist attempting to push her work into larger spaces, appears steadier but no less burdened, balancing her creative ambitions with the emotional labor of parenting children still adjusting to their new reality.

Their interactions carry an awkward familiarity: shared meals, casual conversations, lingering frustrations, and moments when their prior intimacy briefly resurfaces. But Pálmason repeatedly interrupts these naturalistic scenes with flashes of surreal humor and dreamlike invention: a monstrous rooster stalks Magnus’s nightmares, an art-world charlatan meets an exaggerated fate, and a medieval sword drops inexplicably from the sky beside the children’s play area. These moments lighten the film’s tone while also underscoring the emotional chaos lurking beneath its surface, reflecting how heartbreak rarely unfolds in tidy, realistic beats.

Shot by Pálmason himself on richly textured film stock, the Icelandic landscapes become more than mere scenic backdrops, but dynamic entities that mirror the characters’ emotional isolation while offering tantalizing glimpses of calm and continuity. Everyday play, family pets, and the rhythms of work and weather continue even as adult relationships falter.

What makes The Love That Remains so affecting is its refusal to offer easy resolution. Instead, Pálmason captures the uncomfortable truth that love does not simply disappear—It mutates, lingers, and occasionally resurfaces in unexpected forms. The result is a film that is tender, odd, and quietly profound, finding humor and grace in the messy process of learning how to live with the fractured pieces of our best-laid plans.

“There’s a deceptive sweetness to [its] simple, hypnotic rhythms.” – Clint Worthington, RogerEbert.com

“Pálmason’s fourth feature is an album of achingly felt, morbidly funny and increasingly haywire scenes from a marriage.” – Guy Lodge, Variety

A Poet: A Darkly Comic Fable About Art, Failure, and the Cost of Belief

January 21, 2026 by Lamb Laemmle Leave a Comment

Simón Mesa Soto’s A Poet is a caustic, unexpectedly tender portrait of artistic failure and the uneasy hope that comes with believing in someone else. Set in Medellín, the film follows a middle-aged, alcoholic poet whose early promise has long since calcified into bitterness and artistic paralysis. When he encounters a gifted teenage student from a working-class background, he seizes the chance to reinvent himself as a mentor, projecting his lost ambitions onto her raw natural talent. What unfolds is a sharply observed fable about ego, exploitation, and the uneasy line between nurturing one’s art and using it as a lifeline.

Catch A Poet in theaters beginning January 30th at the Laemmle Royal, or at Glendale beginning February 6th.

Oscar Restrepo (portrayed by newcomer Ubeimar Rios with remarkable authenticity) is introduced as a man at war with the world and himself. He drinks too much, picks arguments about poetry with strangers, and torpedoes rare professional opportunities through self-sabotage and disdain. Yet Soto never treats Oscar as a punchline alone. His failures are rendered with specificity and compassion, revealing a man who grasps the general shape of the life he wanted, even as he proves incapable of living it. Oscar’s volatility is inseparable from his sincerity; his tragedy is not that he lacks talent, but that he cannot reconcile art with adulthood.

The film’s emotional axis shifts when Oscar begins teaching at a public high school and encounters a student, Yurlady (Rebeca Andrade), whose writing displays clarity, intelligence, and an unvarnished sense of voice. Unlike Oscar, she approaches art pragmatically, weighing its value against economic reality and familial obligations. Their relationship is neither inspirational nor redemptive in the traditional sense: Oscar is an erratic, often irresponsible guide, while his protégée resists being molded into a passive, yielding symbol. Their bond is defined less by uplift than by friction, an uneasy negotiation between belief and self-preservation.

A Poet sharpens its satire as the pair enter elite literary spaces, where well-funded institutions eagerly embrace the young writer as a marketable emblem of authenticity. Here, Soto skewers the art world’s hunger for narratives that flatter its own virtue, exposing a system in which mentorship, patronage, and diversity often function as performance. The film’s critique is pointed but never smug, grounded in lived contradiction rather than broad caricature.

Shot on grainy 16mm, A Poet has a tactile, slightly unmoored quality that suits its blend of farce and melancholy. Bursts of music heighten the absurdity of Oscar’s misadventures while allowing moments of genuine tenderness to land unforced. In charting the gap between artistic idealism and material reality, Soto delivers a film that is funny, bruising, and quietly devastating—a story not about succeeding in art, but about what it costs to keep believing in it at all.

“Rios is so believable as Oscar, you’d think this film was a documentary of his life.” – Murtada Elfadl, Variety

Culture Vulture: Big-Screen Art, Ideas, and Performance at Laemmle

January 13, 2026 by Lamb Laemmle Leave a Comment

Culture Vulture is Laemmle Theatres’ ongoing invitation to experience world-class art, performance, and cultural storytelling on the big screen and with an audience at your side. Curated from across the ballet, opera, theatre, fine art, and documentary landscapes, this series brings exceptional works to the Laemmle Glendale, Monica, and Town Center locations on Saturday and Sunday mornings at 10:00 a.m. and Monday evenings at 7:00 p.m.

Below are the next five Culture Vulture presentations, each offering a distinct outlook on history, creativity, and human expression:

The Hell of Auschwitz: MAUS by Art Spiegelman (January 24)
Blending humor, rigor, and deep emotional intelligence, this documentary explores Art Spiegelman’s landmark graphic novel Maus, a work that permanently transformed how the Holocaust could be represented. By recounting both his father Vladek’s survival of Auschwitz and their fraught father-son relationship in postwar New York, Spiegelman forged a new artistic language, one that made space for memory, trauma, and inherited silence. Director Pauline Horovitz approaches Maus not just as cultural history, but as a personal reckoning, examining its enduring impact through the lens of the “second generation.”

Accompanied by: EGG CREAM (short)
Screening alongside Maus is this affectionate documentary short about the iconic New York City drink that contains neither egg nor cream. Through family stories, archival material, and neighborhood rituals, “Egg Cream” is a meditation on Jewish-American identity, immigration, and the bittersweet pull of nostalgia—small pleasures standing in for much larger histories.

Hamlet – National Theatre Live (January 31)
Shakespeare’s most enduring tragedy returns in a filmed presentation from London’s National Theatre. This production emphasizes Hamlet’s psychological intimacy and moral uncertainty, bringing fresh immediacy to a timeless play about grief, power, and the impossibility of clean action. Captured live for the screen, it preserves the electricity of theatre while granting audiences an unusually close encounter with one of drama’s greatest roles.

Frida: Viva la Vida (February 7)
This vivid documentary portrait of Frida Kahlo draws directly from the artist’s own letters, diaries, and writings to illuminate her life beyond the rich mythology she left behind. Moving seamlessly between themes of art, illness, love, and political commitment, the film illuminates Kahlo as both fiercely self-aware and profoundly vulnerable, tracing how pain and creativity became inseparable forces in her work.

Ain’t No Back to a Merry-Go-Round (February 21)
An urgent and inspiring civil rights documentary, Ain’t No Back to a Merry-Go-Round examines and unpacks the first organized interracial protest in U.S. history. When Black students and white allies joined together in 1960 to desegregate a Maryland amusement park, their sustained picket line became a training ground for future Freedom Riders and a crucible for grassroots activism. Told through immersive storytelling, archival footage, and firsthand accounts, the film expounds upon a pivotal but largely forgotten chapter of American protest history.

Water Lilies of Monet: The Magic of Water and Light (March 7)
This visually sumptuous film immerses viewers in Claude Monet’s lifelong obsession with water, reflection, and light. Moving between art history and sensory experience, it explores how the Water Lilies series redefined modern painting, and how Monet’s garden at Giverny became both subject and sanctuary. Seen on the big screen, the paintings’ scale, texture, and color take on renewed power.

Culture Vulture is an ongoing celebration of art in all possible forms. Whether you’re drawn to history, performance, or visual beauty, these curated screenings offer a rare chance to encounter such landmark works on the big screen, as they were meant to be experienced. Buy your tickets today and prepare to be wowed!

Father Mother Sister Brother: Jim Jarmusch’s Quiet Meditation on Family Ties

January 6, 2026 by Lamb Laemmle Leave a Comment

Jim Jarmusch’s Father Mother Sister Brother, winner of the coveted Golden Lion at the 2025 Venice Film Festival, offers a signature turn from one of independent cinema’s most distinctive voices, culminating in a gentle, contemplative triptych that quietly observes the tangled, often unspoken dynamics between children and their parents. Opening January 9th at the Laemmle Monica, Claremont, NoHo, and Glendale theaters, the film invites audiences into three subtly interconnected stories about siblings, aging, and legacy, all rendered with the iconoclastic filmmaker’s characteristic blend of wit, understatement, and emotional precision. Tune into Inside the Arthouse to hear Jarmusch discuss his latest work with co-hosts Greg Laemmle and Raphael Sbarge ahead of its debut.

Structured in three chapters set in New Jersey, Dublin, and Paris, Father Mother Sister Brother foregrounds ordinary domestic encounters over flashy, overt drama. In the first story, adult siblings Jeff (Adam Driver) and Emily (Mayim Bialik) make a quiet, tentative journey to visit their widowed father (Tom Waits) at his remote home, negotiating the awkwardness and muted affection that define long years of estrangement. Jarmusch’s direction attends closely to how the three characters move and speak around one another, revealing a lifetime of shared history through pauses, glances, and half-finished thoughts.

The second segment moves to Dublin, where an accomplished novelist (Charlotte Rampling) receives her rarely-seen daughters Timothea (Cate Blanchett) and Lilith (Vicky Krieps) for an annual tea. Here, the emotional choreography is just as rife: politeness, competition, and unspoken disappointment circulate beneath measured exchanges, offering a quietly sharp exploration of how adult relationships with parents can continue to bear the marks of youth.

In the final story, set in Paris, twins Skye (Indya Moore) and Billy (Luka Sabbat) sift through their deceased parents’ belongings, reminiscing and confronting the traces of the lives that shaped them. Minimalist but resonant, this segment emphasizes memory, loss, and the ways shared history lingers in objects and quiet conversations.

While some viewers may find Jarmusch’s pared-back rhythms and emphasis on silence challenging, the film’s rewards lie in its textured, patient observation of ordinary life and its capacity to reflect shared human experience without forcing tidy resolutions. The cast—a blend of longtime Jarmusch collaborators and fresh faces—brings this world to life with subtle (yet thematically crucial) commonalities, underscoring the film’s unstated hypothesis that, whatever differences may exist between us, family dynamics follow a universal language.

In a cinematic landscape that often equates drama with spectacle, Jarmusch’s latest anthology stands apart as a humane, reflective study of the ties that bind us—sometimes awkwardly, sometimes silently, but always with a strange, persistent tenderness.

“What makes the triptych of thematically connected snapshots memorable is its deftly unfussy observation of the unknowability that can endure among people who share the same bloodlines.” – David Rooney, The Hollywood Reporter

“[The film’s] laid-back, liquid rhythms are a perfect mood-setter for a film that also understands that loving someone doesn’t mean you know them all that well.” – Jessica Kiang, Variety

Snapshots: This Year’s Shortlist for Best Documentary and International Feature

December 23, 2025 by Lamb Laemmle Leave a Comment

Each year, the Academy’s documentary and international feature shortlists offer an early snapshot of the stories, styles, and concerns shaping global cinema. This season, 15 documentaries and 15 international features have advanced to the shortlist stage in their respective categories, from which just five nominees apiece will ultimately be selected. Reaching this point alone signals extraordinary distinction, marking these films as some of the most resonant and accomplished works released worldwide this year.

Documentary Features

Brandon Kramer’s Holding Liat follows the family of Liat Beinin Atzili after she is taken hostage from her kibbutz during the October 7th attacks, capturing the emotional toll of waiting while navigating grief, fear, and fragile hope. Kramer avoids sensationalism, allowing viewers to feel the weight of time as it stretches unbearably forward. Holding Liat returns to Laemmle Theatres on January 16th, with advance shows featuring Q&As with the filmmakers at Glendale on January 14th and the Royal on the 15th.

Brittany Shyne’s Seeds offers a lyrical portrait of Black farmers in the American South, tracing generations of agricultural knowledge passed down through land, labor, and memory. Shot in black-and-white, the film observes these farmers’ daily rituals (planting, harvesting, repairing equipment) with reverence and care while more broadly addressing the systemic forces that have threatened Black land ownership for decades. Shyne’s approach is contemplative rather than didactic, allowing the resilience, dignity, and perseverance of her subjects to speak for themselves. Seeds opens at Laemmle’s Glendale January 23rd.

International Features — Returning to Laemmle Theatres in early January 2026

Park Chan-wook’s No Other Choice (South Korea), adapted from Donald Westlake’s 1997 novel The Axe, offers a bleakly comic portrait of economic precarity pushed to its logical extremes. The film centers on Man-su, a longtime paper company employee whose comfortable life unravels after a corporate buyout leaves him unemployed. As financial pressure threatens his home and family, Man-su’s desperation hardens into calculation, leading him on a methodical, morally chilling effort to ‘eliminate’ rival job candidates, reframing professional competition as literal survival.

In The President’s Cake (Iraq), Hasan Hadi offers a deceptively simple coming-of-age story set against the backdrop of authoritarian rule. Told through the eyes of a young girl tasked with baking a cake to honor Saddam Hussein, the film balances innocence and menace, revealing how political power infiltrates even the smallest rituals of childhood.

In Oliver Laxe’s Sirat (Spain), middle-aged dad Luis travels with his son Esteban to a rave in southern Morocco in search of his missing daughter, only to be swept into a nomadic convoy pushing deeper into an increasingly unstable landscape. As rumors of global conflict spread and the desert becomes increasingly militarized, the narrative shifts from communal drift to stark survival. When tragedy fractures the group, Sirat becomes a meditation on grief and forward motion, asking what it means to keep walking when meaning itself has collapsed.

Petra Volpe’s Late Shift (Switzerland) turns its attention to the pressures of contemporary labor, unfolding over the course of a single night in a Swiss hospital. With mounting urgency, the film observes a nurse pushed to her limits by understaffing and impossible demands. Volpe’s clear-eyed direction transforms everyday professional stress into a gripping ethical drama about care, responsibility, and systemic neglect.

Cherien Dabis’s All That’s Left of You (Jordan) centers on a Palestinian teenager swept into a protest in the Occupied West Bank, where a sudden act of violence sends shockwaves through his family. From that rupture, the narrative expands outward as his mother recounts the personal and political forces that shaped the critical moment, threading past and present together. Rather than offering a single perspective, the film unfolds as an act of bearing witness, honoring survival not as abstraction, but as something lived, remembered, and passed down.

Annemarie Jacir’s Palestine 36 (Palestine) revisits the 1936-39 Arab Revolt against British colonial rule, foregrounding the human cost of resistance and focusing on intimate relationships shaped by betrayal, loyalty, and survival. Jacir brings emotional depth and political clarity to a story rarely depicted on screen, offering a work that feels both historically grounded and urgently contemporary.

Together, these shortlisted films reflect a cinema attuned to moral complexity and the enduring consequences of power, memory, and choice. Catch them in theaters before awards season really takes off!

Happy Holidays!

A Christmas Harmony: Why Song Sung Blue Is the Season’s Perfect Crowd-Pleaser

December 16, 2025 by Lamb Laemmle Leave a Comment

Arriving on Christmas Day, Song Sung Blue is the kind of theatrical experience that feels tailor-made for the holiday season: warm, generous, and powered by the simple pleasure of shared music. Directed by Craig Brewer, the film blends biography, romance, and performance into a story about second chances and the quiet triumphs that come from believing in yourself as well as one another.

Catch Song Sung Blue in theaters beginning Thursday, December 25th at the Laemmle Glendale, Newhall, Town Center, NoHo, and Claremont to see for yourself why it’s Tish Laemmle’s favorite movie of 2025, a fun fact made even funner by this ringing endorsement of both the film and Laemmle Theatres in general made by iconic filmmaker Baz Luhrmann.

Inspired by a true story, Song Sung Blue follows Mike and Claire Sardina, a Wisconsin couple whose dreams of musical success have dimmed with time. When they form a Neil Diamond tribute band called Lightning & Thunder, what began as a modest idea becomes a lifeline. Through local gigs, long drives, and moments of doubt, the couple reconnects not just with audiences, but with the reasons they fell in love with music—and with each other—in the first place.

Hugh Jackman brings warmth, vulnerability, and charm to Mike, a performer learning to reclaim his voice after years of disillusionment. Opposite him, Kate Hudson gives one of her more versatile performances to-date as Claire, infusing the role with optimism, humor, and emotional clarity. Together, they create a portrait of partnership that feels deeply human: messy, supportive, occasionally strained, but ultimately resilient. The supporting cast—highlighted by Michael Imperioli, Fisher Stevens, and Jim Belushi—adds texture and humor to the world surrounding the band.

Music, however, is the film’s connective tissue. Songs like “Sweet Caroline” and “Cherry, Cherry” are woven naturally into the narrative, not as spectacle but as compelling expressions of longing, joy, and perseverance. Brewer’s direction resists gloss in favor of sincerity, allowing the actors’ performances to unfold with intimacy and ease. Rather than chasing the highs of overnight success, Song Sung Blue finds its emotional payoff in the smaller victories: the applause of a local crowd, the harmony between two voices, and the triumph of simply being seen.

As a Christmas theater-going experience, Song Sung Blue hits a rare sweet spot. It’s uplifting without being sentimental, musical without being flashy, and rooted in the belief that it’s never too late to rediscover one’s purpose. Perfect for audiences looking to close out the year with something heartfelt and communal, the film reminds us that joy often arrives not with fireworks, but with a familiar song sung together and at just the right moment.

“A family movie in the best sense of the term, a crowd-pleaser with a ton of heart.” – David Rooney, The Hollywood Reporter

“Let-it-rip acting with the fussiness burned off.” – Owen Gleiberman, Variety

“If the right Diamond song at the right time can turn you into mush, you’re likely to find that Brewer’s film is capable of tugging on the same heartstrings.” – Christian Zilko, IndieWire