It seems to be quite a difficult task to create a film that features an intrinsically upbeat message without feeling tawdry or mind-numbingly sugarcoated. There’s a reason most films of the aforementioned nature appeal only to toddlers, and it’s because anyone past pre-school age knows that life is never perfect. There are always going to be obstacles, and finding happiness will never be as easy as it seems. In Welcome to Happiness, writer-director Oliver Thompson invites viewers into a world where genuine happiness is obtainable, but only to those who are all too familiar with the inherent difficulties of life.

Kyle Gallner stars as Woody Ward, a children’s book author whose closet features a mysterious door that allows special, troubled people to enter through in order to find happiness. Despite serving as a pseudo gatekeeper of the door, Woody has no idea what lies on the other side, though he is incredibly curious. After he meets Trudy (Olivia Thirlby), a charming young woman with whom he shares an apartment complex, Woody’s life begins to change, resulting in his desire to uncover the truth behind the door to a happier life.

Welcome to Happiness is an extremely “quirky,” Wes Anderson-style adventure comedy with an incredible ensemble cast and a dozens of wacky characters. Make no mistake, though, the film is completely comfortable venturing into very dark places. In order to stress the importance of happiness, Thompson opts to show many of the characters at their lowest. However, these moments of bleakness are never held for too long, and there is always a powerful sense of hopefulness throughout.

While the bizarre plot is reason enough to buy a ticket to Welcome to Happiness, the film’s star-studded cast secures the film’s success. At this point in her career, it seems almost impossible for Olivia Thirlby to not be violently charming, but she outdoes herself here, as one of the most absurdly adorable girls next door to appear onscreen in years. Her chemistry with Gallner is honest and sweet, and ultimately, very realistic. On the complete opposite end of the performance spectrum, the always-hilarious Keegan-Michael Key is absolutely fantastic as a peculiar baseball card collector named Procter, and appears to be having the time of his life in the role. With supporting roles from Nick Offerman, Brendan Sexton III, Josh Brener, and Molly C. Quinn, among others, the film has the feel of a big-budget Hollywood production, but the homey charm of an indie flick.

Thompson (who also edited the film) chooses to use a few strange editing choices throughout. Songs fade in and out somewhat jarringly, and some of the cuts are a bit peculiar. It fits fairly well with the storybook style of the film, but it is still noticeably weird at times. Perhaps that’s part of what makes the film so lovely, though. Welcome to Happiness feels like this strange children’s story but darker and for adults. There’s this universally relatable nature about it, because everyone desires to find happiness in life, but we’ve all experienced hardships that constantly seem to get in the way; and pasts that we can never seem to fully shake.

As a debut, Welcome to Happiness proves to be a pretty remarkable arrival for Oliver Thompson, who quickly stakes his claim as a filmmaker to watch. Despite a few moments that seem out of place in the grand scheme of the story, there’s so much to enjoy about this film that it’s really an easy recommendation. It’s a feel-good tale that manages to remain mature and, most importantly, honest. It’s the ideal two-hour road trip to happiness.

Far too often, it seems that the term “drug thriller” is code for “Scarface rip-off,” which follows the decline of a rich, usually Colombian, kingpin in dull, cookie-cutter fashion. Rarely, it seems, do filmmakers take the road less traveled and tell the story from the perspective of a drug addict. Tim McCann’s The Aftermath does precisely that.

After separating from his wife, Sonny (Sam Trammell) turns to drug use to ease the pain. Addicted, but hoping to make amends, Sonny reaches out to all of those close to his wife in hopes of giving her a necklace on their anniversary. Before he has the chance to do so, however, the piece of jewelry is stolen by a violent pimp. With all other purpose in his life gone, Sonny sets forth on a journey through a brutal criminal underbelly in order to retrieve his wife’s necklace—regardless of the consequences.

Thanks to a commanding performance from Sam Trammell (True Blood), The Aftermath does an incredible job of humanizing a lying, cheating drug addict. There’s no debate about it, Sonny isn’t a particularly likable character. He isn’t rotten to his core, but he certainly isn’t a guy you’d want hanging around. McCann takes this anti-hero and unapologetically thrusts viewers into his world. Though the film isn’t ultra-violent, nor does it feature a large body count, there is a genuine sense of danger present throughout The Aftermath. Nobody appears to be invincible; anyone and everyone could be killed off at the drop of a hat. Much like McMann’s highly underrated mystery film The Poker Club, The Aftermath takes an unlikely protagonist and places him in an unfamiliar, crime-filled situation. And just like in The Poker Club, the result is a thoroughly interesting, occasionally suspenseful, and at all times well-crafted thriller.

One of the more unique aspects of The Aftermath is its soundtrack, which includes classic ‘50s-style tunes as well as hypnotic, synth-heavy pop tracks. The music is tonally all over the place, but each selection fits brilliantly with its corresponding scene. The music just serves to up the energy of the wild journey The Aftermath encompasses. Sonny’s quest takes him through vastly different areas over the course of the film’s 83-minute running time, including strip clubs, residential neighborhoods, sleazy motel rooms, crack houses, and desolate streets. He is welcomed nowhere—an especially interesting aspect of his character—and no matter where Sonny’s journey takes him, he is seen as an outsider; a vagrant; a junkie. As a result, The Aftermath is somewhat bleak, as Sonny’s literal struggle for some sense of redemption from past wrongs is brutal and unrelenting.

Warm cinematography from director of photography Alan McIntyre Smith gives the film a hazy, almost sticky aesthetic. Everyone appears to be covered in so much sweat and dirt that you can almost smell the body odor through the screen. If the subject matter isn’t seedy enough, the onscreen images will have you wanting to take a shower after the credits begin to roll. There’s no John Waters-esque dirtiness on display, but the griminess of The Aftermath is truly disgusting at times.

The Aftermath is a truly fascinating little indie movie; a completely different kind of adventure film, and one that certainly holds attention. In a world of cheesy drug thrillers and crime romps, The Aftermath keeps things subtle and serious, mixing a story of the perils of addiction with an almost neo-noir attitude. With a deceptive amount of twists and turns, Tim McMann’s latest movie is a completely effective, completely engrossing time at the cinema.

Historically, post-apocalyptic films have been filled with dread, bleakness, and no hope for the future. Kristjan Thor’s Astraea opens up with a sign of compassion in a world gone mad, which becomes a recurring theme in the film. Instead of intense action sequences, doomsday gangs, and swarms of villains, Astraea utilizes a low-key, character-driven story to tell the tale of the human struggle to remain hopeful during the darkest of times

After an event known as “the Drop,” most of the earth’s populationis wiped out as human beings drop dead without warning. As a result, the survivors are left in a world of violence and hardship. On their way to Nova Scotia to meet up with their grandmother, teenager Astraea (NereaDuhart) and her brother Matthew (Scotty Crowe) trek through the wintry landscape, surviving off of canned food. They live virtually a rinse-and-repeat life until they run into James (Dan O’Brien) and Callie (Jessica Cummings), who have taken up shop in a suburban home. After moving in with the couple, Matthew grows closer and closer with Callie, much to the disdain of James. As tensions rise, Astraea begins to have what she believes to be psychic premonitions.

Where Astraea really succeeds, where many films of its nature fall apart, is in Thor’s crafting of an honest depiction of life after an earth-shattering event, rather than heightening the drama in more silly ways. There are no zombies, mutants, aliens, or other supernatural beings running around, nor are there armies of bandits attempting to skin survivors. There are just bleak, empty landscapes and a handful of people trying to get by. The superb production design doesn’t feature decrepit or vandalized locations. Instead, the areas look relatively normal, just emptier and void of electricity and people. There’s a genuine sense of struggle, danger, and devastation in the aesthetic.

During the opening fifteen minutes there is a voiceover narration but almost no spoken dialogue between the two leads, which really adds to the already heavy sense of desolation. Even in its subtlety the film stresses the bleakness that the end of the world has created. Astraea carries around a sound recorder with her parents’ voicemail greeting saved and frequently listens to it throughout the film—a truly heartbreaking, sobering aspect. There’s the heart of Astraea. It’s completely depressing in a way that somehow allows its audience to feel hopeful and positive about the future. Though survival is surely unlikely, it is completely possible, and with characters who are easy to cheer for, it’s easy to get overwhelmingly invested in their story.

The acting on display is great all-around, with Duhart delivering a true standout performance in her film début. Young people can sometimes weigh down and annoy in tales of survival, but Astraea is a genuinely interesting and likable character. Having a sixteen-year-old girl lead a post-apocalyptic film (without donning a bow and arrow and fighting in any hand to hand combat) is a unique choice that truly pays off here. Scotty Crowe has a boy next door style of charm that helps create a believable onscreen chemistry with Jessica Cummings, and Dan O’Brien manages to make a curmudgeonly, jealous pessimist sympathetic. Rarely will you find a cast list that is as solid from top to bottom as the one in Astraea.

In 97 minutes, Astraea provides a more honest and emotionally taxing look at the psyche of those struggling to survive the apocalypse than The Walking Dead has in five seasons. It’s simply a good film with emotional stakes and personal dynamics providing the tension, while the world appears to be ending in the background. Those who can check their apocalyptic assumptions at the door, of high-action or zombie-filled adventure, won’t be disappointed with this one.