If suicide is a nonsensical act, leaving all in its wake confused and reeling, then Bridgend just might be its cinematic equivalent. Harsh, violent, and often lacking in reason, the film is a frustrating portrayal of fake people in a very real and very intriguing situation.

Based on real events and a real problem in the constantly wet and dreary Welsh county of Bridgend, where as of right now almost 80 teenagers have committed suicide since 2007. Which, rightly so, has induced rather a frenzy as adults scramble to figure out what’s happening with the youth of that area. First time director Jeppe Rønde’s film is set in this area, at an ambiguous point in the epidemic, but it is mentioned in the film the death count is around 23. The story is from the perspective of Sara (Game of Thrones’ Hannah Murray), who moves back to the Bridgend area with her father, Dave (Steven Waddington), after years away.  Dave, a cop, has come to lead the investigation on the suicide problem. It seems a bit naïve of Dave not to worry about putting his teenage daughter into the middle of a teenage-suicide-centric town, but their bond is tight and at first she keeps herself distracted from the locals by her horseback riding and generally cheery attitude.

But she is after all a teenager, and when a local girl, Laurel, invites her to hang with the main group of teens in the small town, Sara can’t help herself. This group, led by the shaved-headed Thomas, like to hang out by a lake in the nearby woods. Often stripping down and jumping in, drinking beer and building bonfires. Typical rebellious teenage stuff and Sara is entranced by this tight-knit group. When they head back to town, they stop at the spot where the latest suicide took place, in their version of paying respect to their dead friend, they stop to howl the name of the deceased teen at the top of their lungs. Clearly these teens find more satisfaction in uniting and celebrating their friends’ deaths more than grieving or asking questions. Sara gets her first taste that this group may not be as typical as she thought. Hearing that Thomas, who had shown an interest in her, has committed suicide only a few days later—literally the day after Sara came on to him—feels like it ought to strike more fear into Sara’s heart, but strangely just seems to bring her closer to the other teens.

Throughout the film, the teens communicate in an online community. A chat group where they mourn the growing loss of their friends, while simultaneously extolling that each is in another place. That they are “together.” None of these teens seem especially concerned that their friends are dying. Sara, herself, doesn’t ask nearly enough questions of her new friends until much too late in the film. And her father, the cop, seems hell-bent on being insensitive and unhelpful in the investigation.

While it’s difficult to draw too many conclusions about a real-life case that is currently still open, the picture painted by Jeppe Rønde is one of a strange resignation. In the film the parents of these children, while distraught, don’t seem to be trying all that hard to understand what’s happening to their children. Nor does anyone try to keep a closer eye on the teens still living. The total lack of clear-thinking and logical interrogation is rather frustrating. Rønde chose to focus on the characters of the film rather than try to suggest possible answers for a real problem, but unfortunately the characters all feel two-dimensional.

Sara and her father, while close at first, quickly spiral when he starts seeing a local woman, who isn’t present enough to be a real character. And Sara is so utterly transfixed by Jamie (Josh O’Connor, giving the best performance of any of them), the new leader of the group after Thomas’s death, and the others that it’s hard to see her as the “strong” person others in the film keep claiming she is. The few parents who do pop up, also seem motivated and blinded to reality in an inexplicable way.

All of this could have played into the film if Rønde had offered up some sort of suggestion for what exactly is influencing them all. Supernatural? Old-fashioned bad parenting? It’s quite hard to tell what we’re supposed to think. The film builds, somewhat jarringly, to a dramatic climax. The film’s deafening and uncomfortable music pulsing in a way that makes the confusion of what is happening on screen that much more annoying. If we’re supposed to be frightened, Rønde could have at least given us a hint at what we’re supposed to be frightened of.

Much of the imagery used, the teens floating naked in the dirty lake for instance, feels distinctly horror-ish, but it’s hard to feel any real sense of dread. This may be due to the true-story aspects of the film and the very real mystery they present. For a film that couldn’t provide any real answers, it doesn’t seem to want to try to provide any real guesses. The lack of questions make it a puzzling and disturbing film that feels off-putting because it’s using a real and tragic scenario. The phenomena of cluster suicide is a strange and mystifying one, but it is a psychological phenomena and therefore should have been treated with a bit more mindful consideration.

Mance Media sure knows how to pick ’em lately. The distribution company has said publicly they’re looking for films geared toward the millennial generation. Last year’s The Toy Soldiers wasn’t quite there and was mostly denounced by critics (if not our own). Upcoming in July is The Young Kieslowski, which premiered at last year’s LA Film Festival, and is another new-adult dramedy with all the ingredients and under-baked results. Their upcoming film, The Rumperbutts, similarly sounds unimpressive. Knowing all of this, I probably should have lowered my expectations for Lily & Kat, the debut feature from Micael Preysler, written by himself and Megan Platts. Starring Game of Thrones’ Hannah Murray and Jessica Rothe (who’s done a variety of TV and shorts), the film—in theory—falls squarely within Mance Media’s millennial parameters as it follows two recent fashion school grads as they get through life and love and deal with the impending reality that they won’t always have each other. The problem is that Lily & Kat feels like the film equivalent of a selfie binge session, forcing bored audiences to watch every negative millennial trait sociologists have spouted on about without introducing any of this generation’s more positive attributes—of which I believe there are plenty.

The film focuses on Rothe’s Lily, a fashion grad working for a boutique fashion designer whose scarce store includes gray walls and minimalistic all-black clothing. Lily deals with her droll day-job, obnoxiously nosy co-worker (whose breakdown of Lily’s bad evening the night before based entirely on social media clues is one of the few amusing moments of the film), and cheating non-boyfriend by turning to her best friend and partner in crime, Kat, played by Murray and her—at least in this instance—rather grating Bristolian accent. Outwardly the two appear co-dependent, but from our vantage point through Lily, it feels rather one-sided. That impression only further perpetuated by the unexpected news that Kat will be moving back to England within a week to go to grad school. Kat is the more rash and impulsive of the duo, but the news—given to an entire dinner party, no less—hits Lily square in the chest. Her response, immaturely, is to simply be secretly mad at Kat.

When Lily meets a hot artist, Henri (Jack Falahee), she finds a new distraction from the hurt of Kat’s move and the stacking frustrations in her life. Of course, the effervescent Kat complicates things by being a little too present in Lily’s attempts to put the moves on Henri, leading to a farfetched and rather wretched ending. Strike one against Preysler’s script, and reason number one why forming any attachment to either lead character is impossible, lies in these two women’s complete inability to be even half-way decent friends to one another.

Scenes of Lily being interviewed by some faceless person (maybe herself?) in a white room serve as a sort of unnecessary inner dialogue Lily has with her subconscious. It’s an amateur element and one that only furthers our disdain for Lily as she either refuses to face her own insecurities or reveals things about herself that make her more unlikable. Not to mention the two girls’ backhanded comments to one another, their chemistry-less interactions, and their obvious enablement and yet increased judgement of one another. All examples of how frenemies operate and not at all reminiscent of the tight bonds one forms in their early 20’s. Perhaps there has been more of an interest in films and TV shows around twenty-something female friendships of late because women are marrying later and those friendships and roommates are the new relationship of choice, serving as they do a more meaningful connection. Which is great, and makes for engaging and thoughtful dynamics (see Frances Ha), except that in this case it seems clear Preysler has never met a healthy female duo, nor observed the intriguing bond they are capable of. Preysler’s examples of female bonding include affirming each other’s fashion choices and “fuck-ability,” and generally being catty and uncommunicative.

That’s only the biggest offense of Preysler’s half-hearted attempt at assessing his own generation. He also touches on art, which Henri eye-rollingly refers to as beautiful “if [it] has meaning,” as though the personal meaning an artist places in his own work is easily transferable to a viewer. One can only conjecture we’re meant to apply this same statute to this film, whereby any criticism must be the fault of the critic not understanding the meaning. Then I admit it, I don’t get it.

As filler, the film is interspersed with multiple scenes of the girls getting dressed, or walking down Manhattan streets in slow motion, music pulsing, hair flowing. They come across like fashion commercials and only perpetuate the narcissistic feel of the film. Todd Antonio Somodevilla’s cinematography, bokeh littering the shallow depth of field of each nighttime scene, inadvertently creates the perfect metaphor for these girls: sparkly distractions in their shortsighted world. The music, by dance/electronic artist Glowbug, is fun but can’t make up for a lack of substance. It’s also misused in many of Preysler’s slow-moving shots and is outright laughable during a scene where Lily inspects ridiculous-looking artwork in slow motion as though this maneuver alone could infuse some more of that so-called “meaning” Preysler wants us to see. The scene feels as fake as Lily’s interest in Henri’s artwork and is made more silly when Henri goes on to demean Lily’s own lack of a true fashion career, perpetuating that popular modern movie-myth that anyone by aged 22 has found satisfaction and a sense of purpose in their career.

Lily & Kat isn’t even surface-level enjoyable. Given very little reason to root for the main character Lily, especially as we watch this young women continue to act irrationally and be a generally vapid and uninteresting character, the end has us rather rooting for the demise of her one-dimensional friendship with Kat. At one point Lily says defensively, “I think I’ve made some pretty bold choices with my life,” as though she’s done anything so far other than choose a college to go to and which men to sleep with (which actually, on at least two occasions in the film hardly seem like choices she’s making for herself). One thing millennials like are proper renditions of themselves, heck, that’s sort of a human trait, and Preysler seems to have disregarded his instincts and decided to make a film about millennials if one was to use only their snapchats, Facebook updates, and Instagram-ed head shots. Which, as it turns out, makes for a film hardly worth wasting 140 characters on.

Belle & Sebastian frontman Stuart Murdoch’s indie-pop fantasy God Help the Girl is a musical that’s been in the works for a good decade or so. In 2009 he finished and released a concept album of the same name he’d been working on since 2003, and now with the film (his directorial debut), he’s brought his vision to life visually as well as sonically. The film follows three young musicians in Glasgow (played by Emily Browning, Olly Alexander, and Hannah Murray) who form a band and spend a summer writing songs, playing random gigs around town, and ruminating about the virtues of artistic integrity.

We spoke to Murray about Julie Andrews, being a Belle & Sebastian fan, being in her first musical, her favorite songs in the film, the two happiest months of her life, Stuart’s natural knack for directing, and more.

This was obviously a big passion project for Stuart. A very personal film. What was your first conversation with him like about what he wanted from you in this role?
Hannah: He told me to be like Julie Andrews! [laughs] I auditioned for Eve initially, but looking back on it, I think he was always thinking about me as Cassie. He wanted me to be very posh and energetic. He was like, “Think of Julie Andrews in The Sound of Music!” I was so excited to meet him at all. Every now and again, you have these auditions that sort of feel like, “Even if all I get to do is audition, what an amazing experience it’s been to have met this person.” I was really nervous to sing in front of him. Like you say, it was such a personal project for him, so he had so much to say about the characters and the story, and he was always so engaging when he talked about the project.

Stuart said in an interview that deciding on the final cast was one of the most difficult decisions of his life. That’s got to feel good.
Hannah: It makes me happy. Of course you want to make your director happy on any job you’re doing, but I think on this, the three of us felt such an increased desire to impress him because we had so much respect for him because of Belle & Sebastian. I always think about this film like…there were only three people that got to have the experience we had, and we’re so lucky. It’s so flattering that Stuart wanted me to be a part of it.

Do you think you’ll look back at this making this project as one of the most special times in your life?
Hannah: Absolutely. It was one of the most incredible, emotional experiences I’ve ever had. It was two of the happiest months of my life. Really brilliant. I also feel like, whatever else happens in my life and career, I think I’ll always feel so lucky to have been a part of this.

What was it like doing choreography and singing on camera? Was this a first for you?
Hannah: Yeah, definitely a big first for me. It was really fun. It’s one of those things where, you get the job, and you’re like, “What an exciting challenge!” Then, two weeks in, you’re absolutely terrified and hating it. [laughs] But by the end, it’s gone back to being really, really fun again. All those days when we did the musical numbers felt so magical. I never thought I’d get to be in a musical, and it’s such a joy to sing and dance for your job. And to do it with people you really get on with and don’t feel so self-conscious around because you’re all in the same boat is great.

What’s your favorite musical number in the film?
Hannah: I love them all so much! [laughs] “I Just Want Your Jeans” was sort of my song. It was incredibly special, and that number was the last thing that I shot. It felt like the culmination of working on the project, and it was really exciting to have a solo. It think that song’s beautiful, and I love the stuff that it talks about. It’s really unusual subject matter. I love “Musician, Please Take Heed” as well. I think that’s a gorgeous song, and Emily does such an amazing job with it. Of the parts of the filming I wasn’t involved in, that was one of the things I was most excited to see, how that whole sequence came together. It’s so impressive.

What was it like watching yourself sing and dance with an audience for the first time?
Hannah: It was really amazing. I got to see it at Sundance, and I’ve never felt so proud of something I’ve done and been so excited to have other people see it. All of us kind of feel like we had such an amazing time making it that it doesn’t really matter if people like it. It’s like a bonus, really. I’m really excited for it to come out because I feel such a warmth toward it. It’s nice to feel that way, and it’s a new feeling for me. I know that I love the film, and that kind of stands on its own.

You obviously gelled with Stuart and your co-stars quite well. Is there an itch to work with them again, or was this experience something so dear that you just sort of put it away?
Hannah: I worked with Olly on a TV job just a couple months after shooting. I also got to do a Belle & Sebastian music video about a year after we did the film, which I was so flattered to be able to do. I had to sort of act with Stuart, which was a fun experience. [laughs] I would love to keep working with all of these people again. They’re the best.

What made this project different from others you worked on? What did Stuart, Emily, and Olly bring out in you?
Hannah: I always used to believe that good work came out of being miserable and angst-y and tortured and that if you were playing someone that was unhappy, you had to be as unhappy as them. I thought creativity had to be hard, with a lot of conflict. My career has progressed to the point where I really don’t buy into that anymore. This film was probably the biggest thing that made me switch that off. I felt so supported by the people I was working with, and I felt really relaxed and safe. Because of that, I could try anything. We did quite a lot of improvisation, which terrified me in the past, but this was fine because I knew these guys wouldn’t judge me. It was the freedom they gave me that allowed me to take risks.

Stuart’s a first-time director, but anyone who’s familiar with his music knows that his songs are quite cinematic already.
Hannah: Absolutely! I really agree with that. He’s such a great storyteller, and he creates these characters in his songs, so it feels like a very natural progression for him to make a film. I really hope he does more films, because he’s really naturally gifted at it. He didn’t really know what the “rules” were, and he had a bit of a different approach, but that was very exciting. Also, he loves cinema, and he has such an incredible knowledge of movies. He gave us so many references to think about, introducing me to films I never knew about. He obviously shouldn’t give up being a musician, because he’s brilliant at that, but I think he’s very strong in both disciplines.

I kind of miss movie musicals. I wish there were more of them.
Hannah: Me too! I’m a huge musical fan, and early on when I was 12-years-old and wanted to be an actor, I thought I only wanted to be in musicals. It seemed like the most fun way of doing it. There definitely aren’t enough musicals out there. I think what’s great about this film is that we’ve shown that you can make a musical on a much smaller budget than people would have necessarily thought. I hope that’s going to open up people making more and more smaller musicals that aren’t exactly Les Miserables or Chicago. Not that I don’t love those films, but I think musicals are having a renaissance right now, and people really love them. I hope people make more and more.

Belle & Sebastian frontman Stuart Murdoch’s indie-pop fantasy God Help the Girl is a musical that’s been in the works for a good decade or so. In 2009 he finished and released a concept album of the same name he’d been working on since 2003, and now with the film (his directorial debut), he’s brought his vision to life visually as well as sonically. The film follows three young musicians in Glasgow (played by Emily Browning, Olly Alexander, and Hannah Murray) who form a band and spend a summer writing songs, playing random gigs around town, and ruminating about the virtues of artistic integrity.

In our conversation with Alexander (the lead singer of his own band, Years and Years), we talk about the fun he and his co-stars had on set, having the best job in the world, landing the role with a “shitty” keyboard, where being an actor and musician intersect, his songwriting process, and more.

Thanks for taking the time to chat, Olly! I know you guys are having a really busy afternoon.
Olly: That’s okay! It’s quite exciting.

Oh good! So you like talking to press?
Olly: I don’t normally get to do this, so it’s quite fun!

Speaking of having fun, I interviewed Hannah as well, and she was saying that you guys had a lot of fun making this movie.
Olly: We did! Too much fun. I feel like it’s probably wrong to have that much fun at work. I can’t really think of another film I’ve done where I’ve looked back on it with such fondness. Everyone always says, “It was such a great group of people,” or “The script was so good,” but I feel like they’re lying a lot of the time. Making movies is sometimes really hard and depressing, but this one was so fun all the way through. I’m just happy I got to be in it, really.

What was the chemistry like on set between yourself, Emily, Hannah, and Stuart? Tell me about some of the fun you guys had.
Olly: We hit it off instantly. I’d known Hannah for a few years prior, and the three of us met on a train up to Glasgow for rehearsals. We got a bit drunk and talked about our love for Belle & Sebastian. Our sense of humor is quite similar, so we have a lot of in-jokes and we’re probably terrible to be around. [laughs] We’re just laughing all the time. Also, if your job is just singing and dancing, that’s pretty much the best thing ever. I can’t think of a more fun thing to do, you know?

That is a cool gig, my friend.
Olly: Right? I’m not having to break down or play some tortured, abused person. It’s just fun!

Stuart said that casting you three was one of the hardest decisions of his life.
Olly: He’s been living with this movie for 10 years, so it must be hard to find the right people. I’m hoping he feels like he made the right choice. [laughs] Stuart told me that the reason I got the part was because the other guys who auditioned for James did these guitar covers of Springsteen or Bowie or Bob Dylan or whoever. I wrote my own song and played it on my tiny, shitty Casio keyboard, and he said that that was something James would have done. He intended for James to be way older, so I’m glad I got it!

You’re a musician and an actor. Where do the art forms intersect for you? In other words, what creative tools do you use in both?
Olly: That’s a good question. I’m still trying to figure that out. When you’re acting, the idea is that you’re creating the character, and emotions, and stories. But you have a much more direct relationship with that when you’re a musician, because you’re writing the music. You’re performing on stage. You’re the writer, director, and producer all at once. I feel like it’s a much more instant creative satisfaction than acting, in a way. Actually, the more and more I act and play music, the more I feel like they’re really different. [laughs]

Because of your background as a musician, I’m sure you were able to pull from your own life experiences quite a bit when acting out scenes like the fight with the drummer and passing out fliers to recruit band members.
Olly: Oh yeah. I never did the flier thing, but I’ve definitely played a lot of shows where stuff has gone wrong. I haven’t gotten into a fight on stage, though! [laughs] But I’ve played lots of shows where the audience isn’t really into you and stuff. I get that frustrated musician thing, because that was my life for a long time.

Talk to me about Stuart as both a director and a musician.
Olly: What’s really great about Stuart is how relaxed he is. I imagine making your first movie is a pretty terrifying experiences. I’d be having daily nervous breakdowns. But he was so calm, and that really filters down to the rest of the crew. He’s so easy to be with and work around, and he also trusted in what we were doing, so we could just do what we wanted. [laughs] He’s also quite instinctive. I wish I’d picked his brain more on his songwriting process, but as a musician, I think he’s so prolific and instinctual.

What’s your songwriting process like? Do you start with the chords or do you start with the melody?
Olly: I start with chords and sort of vocalize a melody over it. I write on piano.

Piano is the best songwriting instrument, I’d say.
Olly: Yeah, definitely. It’s the most forgiving songwriting instrument for sure.

I miss movie musicals. I wish there were more of them. Do you feel the same way?
Olly: I do now, but I have to be honest; I wasn’t a fan of the musical film genre. I just wasn’t. I haven’t seen Grease or Cabaret…I just haven’t seen that many musicals. But now that I’ve been in one and seen how fun it can be, I want there to be more, definitely. I feel like people love them, right? This one’s sort of different because it isn’t a glossy, high-production-value musical. I mean, I think there’s a part of everyone that thinks life would be better if you could just burst into song and dance. They’re right! [laughs]

In your opinion, is the film emblematic of a music genre, a time period, or Stuart himself? What does it represent?
Olly: It’s very much Stuart’s vision. I think people will know what to expect if they’re Bell & Sebastian fans. Why I love the movie so much is that it’s Stuart’s story–all the films he loved growing up, living in Glasgow, creating a band–it’s all an expression of him.

It’s a scary thing for a first-time director to take on a musical in his first at-bat, but Stuart Murdoch is a seasoned artist with experience in another art form. That art form happens to be music: Murdoch is the frontman of Belle & Sebastian, which obviously gives him a unique advantage in his charming debut, God Help the Girl, an indie-pop fantasy set in his beloved hometown of Glasgow. Murdoch released a concept album of the same name in 2009, and the film version of his passion project is a natural, seamless extension of his initial vision. It’s a bit too restrained on all fronts, but the film’s young leads are wonderful, the songs are catchy and clever (Belle & Sebastian fans will be thrilled), the cinematography is shimmery and sharp, and it’s an all-around pleasurable experience.

But above all else, Murdoch gives indie kids a film that speaks (and sings) to them directly. Our two central characters meet at a rock show in a small club. Watching the show from the crowd is Eve (Emily Browning), an aspiring musician herself who’s just escaped the walls of the mental health center where she’s being treated for anorexia and anxiety. On stage is a nerdy singer-songwriter named James (Olly Alexander), who gets into an on-stage (eventually spilling off-stage) tussle with his drummer because he can’t hear his vocals over the drums. After the show, James finds Eve sulking in a stairwell, and a friendship (and a band!) is born. They soon recruit another musical collaborator by the name of Cass (Hannah Murray), a cheery confidant who’s cute as a button and loves riding bikes. Anyone who came up in the indie club scene will recognize just how truthful a representation of the culture Murdoch’s put on screen.

But the film isn’t grounded in authenticity or reality; this is a musical after all, and the summer of songwriting, random kayak rides, and bowling alley gigs we see our trio share is a more heightened, wondrous version of the culture it represents than an accurate portrait of it. They’re living in an indie dreamworld. If you’ve ever tried to recruit band members by posting fliers around town, you know how unfruitful (albeit classic) a recruiting method it is. (Yes, I’ve done this before and yes, it was pathetic.) Eve, James and Cass have no trouble with this, as they find themselves literally running away from a hungry pack of would-be band members, giant smiles on their faces. Moments like these are genuinely gleeful, warm and fuzzy, adorable, and unstuck from reality.

Cracks eventually do begin to form within the band, because if they didn’t, the already paper-thin plot would be all but shapeless. There are disagreements about band names, debates on the virtues of artistic integrity and commercial appeal, and a weak romantic angle revolving around Eve, but none of the drama is affecting. The story is completely formulaic, but the good news is that Murdoch’s music isn’t; the musical numbers are the film’s strongest asset, with Murdoch’s lyrics conveying the characters’ mindsets nicely. The jaunty, sometimes tender songs are beautifully written and orchestrated, and a few Belle & Sebastian classics are weaved in as well. (The playful “Funny Little Frog” is a welcome inclusion.)

Alexander is sweet and likable, and it’s clear that he can genuinely play the instruments in his hands. (Outside of acting he’s in a band called Years and Years.) James is more than a little archetypal, but Alexander is so good you won’t really care. Murray’s enthusiasm is enchanting, but her singing voice feels a bit withheld and faint. Browning’s voice, on the other hand, is extraordinary, as is her non-singing performance, and her dollish look works well with cinematographer Giles Nuttgens’ vibrant visual style. The intimate moments between Eve and Olly are tender without feeling mushy, like when she crawls in bed with him late at night because she can’t sleep. He gently drapes his arm around her with no motive other than to ease her worries.

If there’s anything to knock about the film’s look, it’s that the camera movement feels too choreographed and rigid. A more free-flowing approach might have reflected the characters’ wild spirits better. Murdoch and Nuttgens make Glasgow look absolutely gorgeous, with the blue-ish gray urban architecture nestled in lush greenery acting as the perfect setting for their modern fairy tale.

God Help the Girl trailer

Not content with merely being the singer/songwriter for a beloved band, Belle and Sebastian frontman Stuart Murdoch makes his feature film debut as a writer/director with God Help the Girl. Murdoch’s first film features stars Sucker Punch‘s Emily Browning as Eve, a girl in Glasgow who forms a pop group and spends her summer crafting songs alongside friends Cass (Hannah Murray) and James (Olly Alexander).

The new teaser, set to songs by Stuart Murdoch, gives the new movie a quirky look and feel. Almost as if the objective is a Wes Anderson-esque approach to the movie-musical. Many shots utilize parallel framing in the style that Anderson loves, and there are bright, contrasted colors in many scenes. The result seems like a charming take on coming-of-age, and many of the reviews out of Sundance (as well its other festival stops) corroborate that idea.

God Help The Girl will be released in New York City on September 5th, see the poster and watch the teaser trailer below:

Trailer for God Help The Girl

God Help The Girl movie poster