Todd Haynes’ gorgeous new film Carol is a delicate, romantic examination of queer identity in the 1950s. Based on the Patricia Highsmith’s novel “The Price of Salt”, about a virginal shop girl named Therese (Rooney Mara) who falls for the titular Carol (Cate Blanchett), this understated lesbian romance is an often joyous look at a blossoming relationship that transcends all obstacles of its era. Articulating that imperceptible pull of deep affection, Carol is wonderfully acted by its two leads. Mara and Blanchett develop an instant, intriguing chemistry that breaths life into their reserved initial exchanges. The immaculately crafted love story demonstrates the power of genuine connection, regardless of gender.

Haynes and his actors are able to express more with a lingering hand on a shoulder than most romances achieve in an entire film. Opening with a nervous dinner between Therese and Carol, the pair of women communicate an extensive mutual history without the benefit of the context that will later be added. Blanchett brings a dignified elegance to her fiery character, with a controlled outward demeanor Carol tries her hardest to maintain. To paraphrase a line from Carol’s jilted husband Harge (an excellent, but one-note Kyle Chandler), she’s always the most commanding presence in the room.

Her stoicism gives way when in the presence of her younger counterpart. It’s the radiant Rooney Mara who shines brightest in Carol, in spite of her character’s passive tendencies. The reserved manner in which Mara carries herself—burdened by the men and job that take her presence for granted – slowly gives way to reveal a girl simply unsure of herself. To Therese, Carol is more than someone to love, but someone whose self-assuredness is something to which she aspires (during their first get together, Therese admits she, “barely know[s] what to order for lunch”). To Carol, Therese is an alluring presence that needs to be coaxed out of her shell. Each actor seems charmed by the other’s quirks. It’s only in Carol’s presence that Therese learns to stick up for her own desires.

Carol shares thematic and temporal similarities to another Haynes film, 2002’s Far From Heaven, with the notable difference between being how retrospectively coy Far From Heaven seems by comparison. While Far From Heaven treats its homosexual elements as a reveal, Carol gives the gay relationship center stage throughout. No characters go so far as to use the L-word, G-word or H-word, but they are unrepentant about their “immoral” feelings. Therese and Carol have a harmonious bond. Even with Haynes’ history in making gay-centric movies (Poison, Velvet Goldmine), Carol feels like a step towards normalcy.

Carol could have simply been a story about a relationship falling victim to a bygone age. Instead, Haynes constructs a testament to love’s ability to endure. It’s a beautiful story only partly due to its unfettered handling of the lesbian relationship, but for the precision with which it portrays their romance. There’s a certain stiffness typically associated with Period Pieces—where costumes and era appropriate dialog gets in the way of character. That is never the case with Todd Haynes’ newest film, which uses time period as set dressing for a humanistic drama. The production details are flawless and immersive, but Haynes’ camera draws attention to his actors’ faces and their mindsets.

The culmination of Therese and Carol’s romance comes naturally. Haynes teases out the process until it seems as if the two are simply meant to get together, and that first blissful moment they share is exciting and moving. The film’s careful finale is Carol at its most tender, ending on a touchingly delightful note in sync with the rest of the film. It’s hope from the past to give us hope for our future.

The 59th BFI Film Festival today unveiled its selection of 238 feature films and 182 shorts set to screen during the 12-day festival. While it was already known that the Sarah Gavron feminist drama Suffragette would open the festival, Danny Boyle‘s Steve Jobs biopic would close it, and the Cate Blanchett / Rooney Mara film Carol would feature in a Headline Gala, several other high-profile additions were part of today’s announcement.

The European premieres of Trumbo, Brooklyn, as well as The Lady In The Van highlight the Gala selections, while other anticipated movies like Black Mass, High-Rise, and The Lobster occupy other slots.

Thirteen features make up the Official Competition line-up, including Cary Fukunaga’s Netflix-bound Beasts of No Nation, the Cannes-awarded Son of Saul, and Sean Baker‘s iPhone shot Tangerine (which has already been released in the U.S.). The First Feature Competition highlights twelve other films from debut filmmakers, with Krisha, Partisan, and The Witch set to take part.

Tickets go on sale to the public September 17th, 20 days before BFI kicks off on October 7th. Check out the full lineup on BFI’s website.

It’s been a tumultuous year at Cannes, and today’s surprising awards ceremony certainly made for a fitting ending to this year’s festivities. Festival head Thierry Fremaux got lots of criticism thrown at him for his picks this year, which went heavy on French films, but this year’s festival jury—headed by Joel and Ethan Coen—had lots of love for the French selections. Best Actor went to Vincent Lindon for The Measure Of a Man, and Emmanuelle Bercot got a shared Best Actress prize for her turn in Maiwenn’s Mon Roi.

But the biggest surprise came when Jacques Audiard’s Dheepan was announced as the winner of the Palme D’Or. Audiard is a fine director (many of us here are fans of A Prophet, which got him the Grand Prix back in 2009), but critics were mostly sour on Dheepan, criticizing it for a startling turn in the final act that didn’t work for most people. And people were shocked that the two critically adored films in this year’s competition, Todd Haynes’ Carol and Hou Hsaio-hsien’s The Assassin, didn’t wind up taking home the big prizes; Hsaio-hsien won Best Director (considering how much of the film was praised for its gorgeous visuals, this sounds pretty deserving), and Carol got a Best Actress prize for Rooney Mara. But with Carol receiving a nice, Oscar-friendly release date in December from Harvey Weinstein, and The Assassin already bought up for US distribution, this certainly won’t be the last we’ll hear of these two films.

The only predictable outcome this year was Son of Saul winning the Grand Prix, which people assumed would be taking home a prize after it screened to a strong reception. It’s an impressive win, considering this is director Laszlo Nemes’ first feature, and it should have a nice tour around the festival circuit for the rest of the year. Another slight shocker was Michel Franco winning Best Screenplay for Chronic, but that might only come as a shock to anyone who’s seen his previous films; he’s a filmmaker known more for his directorial skills, and it sounds like critics were baffled by his win.

Read on below for the full list of winners, and expect to see a good chunk of these films get some sort of release throughout 2015 and 2016. While we only got the chance to see a few films this year, including Jury Prize winner The Lobster, we’re eager to check all these winners out once they play closer to home. Until then, all we can do is wait until we do it all over again next May.

2015 Cannes Winners

Camera D’Or (Best First Feature): La Tierra Y La Sombra

Best Screenplay: Chronic

Best Actress: Rooney Mara, Carol; Emmanuelle Bercot, Mon Roi

Jury Prize: The Lobster

Best Actor: Vincent London, The Measure Of A Man

Best Director: Hou Hsiao-hsien, The Assassin

Grand Jury Prize: Son Of Saul

Palme D’Or: Dheepan

In the near future of Her, LA has a few new buildings in its skyline and is as smoggy as ever. The haze only adding to its dreaminess. The metro extends all the way to the beach (something all Angelinos have been craving for years), and the fashion trends favor nerd appeal, with high-waisted pants for men and minimal makeup on women. People walk around, hardly acknowledging one another, muttering into the small wireless earpieces they wear to stay constantly connected to their smart devices.

We’ve already become a society that doesn’t bat an eyelash at people staring at small square screens in their hands around the clock, so this next possible step depicted in director Spike Jonze’s vision of the future does seem entirely likely. It’s when Jonze presents another technical possibility that a unique, and dare I say plausible, love story emerges.

Theodore Twombly (Joaquin Phoenix) writes love letters for a living; a romantic profession that fits his introverted and lonely personality. Having recently split with his wife (Rooney Mara), he mopes from work to home, shrugging off invitations from co-workers (Chris Pratt) and long-time friends (Amy Adams and Matt Letscher). Intrigued by new software, he buys himself a new operating system. After answering only a couple quick set-up questions (including a very open ended “how is your relationship with your mother?”), and choosing a female voice for his new OS, Theodore’s new computer is up and running.  She decides to call herself Samantha and with Scarlett Johansson’s sultry voice giving her life, it’s easy to see why Theodore instantly finds himself being pulled into deeper and deeper conversations with her.

Samantha has the ability to learn and adapt and through her newborn digital eyes Theodore begins to see the beauty in his ordinary life, not to mention a companion who always has his best interests at heart. Samantha’s unbridled curiosity and rapacious interest in Theodore are the sort of ingredients that would win any man’s heart. Given he’s also a romantic attuned to the power of words, it isn’t long until he is very much in love with this bodiless digital cloud of a dream girl.

Theodore and Samantha’s relationships have some obvious challenges, which seem surprisingly easily overcome. First off: public acceptance. Turns out people are falling for their operating systems on the regular, and this is a future where people ask very few questions. They overcome their physical differences, being that Samantha lacks any physical form whatsoever, and all I can say is, thank you Mr. Jonze for the black screen during that scene. Later Samantha does try to find herself a surrogate to be with Theodore, but it’s too uncomfortable for him and ends up being a strong “life” lesson for her in accepting her own form. Even the most basic of relational difficulties, jealousy, insecurity, boredom, all seem overcome in time. Instead it’s a more unanticipated technical difficulty that threatens their love in the end and there is no geek squad that can intervene in matters of the heart.

Her is well crafted and engaging to view, with many thoughtful details that include familiar LA locations. Production designer, and long-time Spike Jonze collaborator, K. K. Barrett has thought up a future that seems like it could be one trend away from being the current LA; and set decorator Gene Serdena styles Theodore’s futuristic home in a way that would have the Jetson’s drooling.

Joaquin Phoenix seems to do his best work when given an introverted character, allowing his eyes to convey both the loneliness of Theodore and his reawakening. He and Johansen have a subtle chemistry, the only kind a man and his computer could convey, but one that is believable and endearing. Johansen puts many a voiceover actor to shame, and it’s not hard to imagine the very facial expressions Samantha would make if there were a face to go with that voice.

Whether Jonze really intends for there to be any sort of moral message isn’t exactly obvious. Relationships grow, both together and apart. People, and technology, can and do change. What magic keeps any couple together? It’s really the same old love story we’ve heard a million times, but it never gets old when it’s told right. Society may or may not be headed toward this future possibility, but it can be counted as certain that people will always be looking for love, in whatever form it can and may eventually take. And it’s that age-old quest, reflected in both Theodore and Samantha, that makes Her a fantastic film.

Her trailer

There’s no way around it. David Lowery’s darkly romantic Texas tale, Ain’t Them Bodies Saints (love the title), starring Casey Affleck and Rooney Mara as bandit lovers, begs comparison to the films of Terrence Malick, one of the cinematic masters of our era. It isn’t bad company to be in—the comparisons are a high compliment, actually—but being examined next to the very best can diminish a film’s individuality. With Ain’t Them Bodies Saints, Lowery leaves me no choice.

Lowery’s outlaw tale owes a bit of its spirit to Badlands. Just a bit, though—it owes even more to Arthur Penn’s Bonnie and Clyde. The Malick comparison that’s hugely unavoidable is the film’s unmistakable resemblance to Days of Heaven—both are stunning with sun-soaked natural lighting, a melancholy Texas setting, and ephemeral editing that flows like the breeze. Though the film feels derivative on certain levels, there’s also a sense that Lowery is staying true to himself here. He does have his own voice—it just happens to be one of a film-lover and student of the game who’s been touched by Malick’s work. Other influences are clear—‘70s road films, Paul Thomas Anderson, Cormac McCarthy, and Robert Altman (the latter two of which Lowery has frequently cited as influences)—but Malick’s rings the truest, or at least the loudest.

Like AMC’s The Walking Dead, Ain’t Them Bodies Saints shows you what happens after most movies cut to credits. The setting is a tiny town in Texas, and we start at the end—after a heist gone wrong, Bob Muldoon (Affleck) and Ruth Guthrie (Mara), a dusty pair of outlaw lovebirds (Ruth is carrying Bob’s child) are arrested after a classic shootout with the police. Patrick Wheeler (Ben Foster, an excellent character actor who is uncharacteristically soft-spoken and tender here), one of the cops on the scene, is shot by Ruth, but Bob takes the fall and is sentenced to 25 years in prison. Cut to four years later, and Bob’s escaped from prison to return to and run off with Ruth and his daughter, Sylvie (now 4 years old). Of course, we see nothing of the breakout, as Ain’t Them Bodies Saints is all about emotion as a result of action, not the action itself. The town is alerted of his escape, and Wheeler takes to keeping an eye on Ruth and Sylvie in anticipation of Bob’s impending arrival.

Ruth has come to terms with the fact that she and Bob’s relationship is a doomed one, but she and Sylvie are Bob’s only desire, and still he comes. Bob’s unfettered determination to return to his family is moving, if a little tragic. Affleck and Mara have precious little onscreen time together, but fascinatingly enough, their chemistry is the driving force of the film. In true Malick-ian fashion, they exchange whispers of devotion and mythic romance in thick Texas accents as they’re drenched in melancholic magic-hour sunrays. Though their exchanges are few, Affleck, Mara, and Lowery (who also penned the film) make every word, every longing glance, count. We feel their longing whether they’re both on-screen or not.

Lowery makes time for tender moments like Ruth singing Sylvie an achingly sweet lullaby or Bob laying is head on Ruth’s lap in their parked truck late at night. This is a quiet, almost muffled film, relying on atmosphere to convey the brunt of the emotion. Dialogue is sparse by design. Keith Carradine (a throwback to a time when Hollywood was full of men, not boys in men’s clothes) plays Skerritt, Bob’s adopted father and guardian to Ruth and Sylvie. He says things once, clearly and with authority, because he doesn’t care to repeat himself.

Lowery and cinematographer Bradford Young communicate most of their ideas not through plot, but through dark, dark imagery—the murky, smudged lighting and thick, almost impossibly black nighttime scenes (honestly—I don’t know how they shot them) reflect Bob and Ruth’s bleak and ill-fated future. The rusty, dusty atmosphere is so palpable it’s almost tactile—when Bob kicks up piles of dust while evading the police, you almost want to cough. Another nice touch is that we’re never given a definitive time period in which the story takes place, which lends the film a sense of timelessness.

Here’s the thing—all signs point to this movie being a larger-than-life, soul-rattling Americana tale like Malick is known to gift us with, but the signs lead nowhere. The components of the film—the breathtaking imagery, the superb performances, the tasteful narrative, the tender, perfectly captured moments—ultimately don’t add up to greatness. Malick can shake emotions buried inside us that we didn’t even know we had. He offers grand ideas that can shift your state of mind or even your values. With Ain’t Them Bodies Saints, Lowery has all the pieces to the puzzle, but just can’t put them together like the master can, though his creation is undeniably beautiful in its own right. Perhaps the darkness that pervades the film is the long shadow of Malick, watching over his apprentice as he struggles with his homework. I imagine Lowery would receive an encouraging wink and a B-.

Ain’t Them Bodies Saints trailer:

Last week it was announced that Spike Jonze’s latest film Her will close out the New York Film Festival in mid-October. The film stars Joaquin Phoenix as a lonely man who ends up falling in love with an advanced operating system (voiced by Scarlett Johansson) after the breakup of a long-term relationship. Those two are not the only recognizable names in the cast, Amy Adams, Rooney Mara, and Olivia Wilde all also make appearances.

Watch the trailer for Spike Jonze’s Her:

David Lowery’s unclear and unconvincing script extinguishes what could have been a fiery noir burning with lust and violence. His story contains many great crime genre staples—a love struck criminal, a beautiful country girl, a menacing father figure, lusty cops, and a prison escape; not to mention it’s set in the 30s. The industrious Lowery has lured immense talent to Ain’t Them Bodies Saints but it fails to deliver even an ounce of the proposed excitement. I think Lowery fights to avoid genre clichés and in doing so saps the drama from his story.

Ain’t Them Bodies Saints opens with Casey Affleck and Rooney Mara’s characters arguing, but obviously very much in love. Without earning an investment in their relationship it hardly matters when Affleck goes to prison after a heist gone wrong in the next scene. Now neither character has anything to do but pine for the other. Luckily, Bradford Young’s stunning cinematography breathes some life into scenes with little content. Mara seems to have nothing to do but wander through town at sunset and does not posses the aura to express anything through her inactivity. Lowery always seems to place viewers in the lesser dramatic point of view. He follows Mara while Affleck’s character toils in prison and eventually escapes to win her back. Its lazy execution calls to mind the haphazard prison escape sequence in Down by Law, which Jim Jarmusch plays for laughs. Ain’t Them Bodies Saints, on the other hand, is deadly serious in showing Affleck’s flight from bondage with the mundane image of him emerging from the woods tattered and covered in dirt.

Luckily Affleck proves more adept at wielding inactivity than his co-star. He always hides some mystery behind his eyes as he dances through Lowery’s poetic monologues about escaping prison and his undying love for a woman. Eventually he does act on his goal and attempts to find Mara. However, I found myself struggling to care. He first gets thwarted by Keith Carradine, who seems to be some kind of foster or adoptive father to Mara or even both of them, and then by a band of bounty hunters looking for the loot Affleck kept to himself. These confrontations prove extremely unsatisfying and sometimes even maddeningly confusing as Lowery clouds the circumstances of every relationship. Finally, when Affleck faces down his pursuers, even he appears confounded.

The most vague of all is Ben Foster’s character—a cop involved in the shootout at the beginning of the film that led to Affleck’s arrest. He shyly peruses Mara when he’s tasked to watch her when the police learn of Affleck’s escape. He manages to steal every scene he’s in, but Mara doesn’t provide tough competition.

Without it’s huge stars, stunning cinematography or enchanting music Ain’t Them Bodies Saints would be near unwatchable. Perhaps on paper, Lowery’s picture appeared as a resurgence of period crime drama in the vein of the much beloved Badlands or recent hit Boardwalk Empire. I lament that the film does not live up to its lofty goals and instead it only provides loving references to its superior influences.

Utilizing the script from Scott Z. Burns, Steven Soderbergh delivers a mostly satisfying thriller that presents several twists and turns along the way to keep the audience guessing until the very end. Side Effects starts off as a film about exposing the unethical sides of the pharmaceutical industry but then changes directions several times just as you begin to think the film is about a singular subject. As long as you do not nitpick on the ways the film purposely uses its misdirection to fool you, Side Effects is, at the very least, an entertaining film from the prominent filmmaker.

The brief opening shot of the film is not in chronological order of the story. It shows blood-stained footsteps that lead to model sail boat and an envelope resting on a chair. The film then jumps back three months earlier to show the events that led up to that scene. Side Effects contains many twists that slowly reveal themselves once layers are peeled back, most of which are spoilers, so for your benefit I will not go into great detail about those.

Emily Taylor (Rooney Mara) is eagerly awaiting the release of her husband Martin Taylor (Channing Tatum) who spent four years in prison for insider trading. Although she welcomes Martin with open-arms back into her life, you get a sense that Emily has been dealing with depression ever since he was away. Her mental illness is confirmed very quickly when she heads straight for a brick wall with her car without the intention of hitting the brakes or swerving away. The near-death incident lands her in therapy sessions with Dr. Jonathan Banks (Jude Law).

It is revealed that it is not Emily’s first time in therapy and that she has previously not reacted well to the antidepressants that were previously prescribed to her. This prompts her new therapist to write a prescription for a new drug called Ablixa, which does eliminate her suicidal tendencies at first, but as the title suggests, there are side effects of this drug. And anyone who has heard the long-winded disclaimer at the end of medical advertisements knows, the side effects of medicine can potentially be just as dangerous as the symptom it treats.

The major theme found throughout Side Effects is that things are not quite what they seem at first glance. The film deceives the viewer into believing the film is about one thing right before it quickly changes into something different. Side Effects first presents itself as a study about a person who is out of sync with the world, then as a dark look at the pharmaceutical industry, shifting to the unethical practices of psychiatry, all while making the innocent seem guilty and vice versa. The problem is the final twist ends up being more of a gimmicky eye roller than any of the other possible outcomes.

There are a lot of things to admire about the film. Soderbergh uses all the right camera techniques to convey the appropriate message. For example, he uses a lot of angled mirror shots to illustrate the altered perspective of that person, precise focusing and blurring to mimic foggy state of mind, and removing the camera from the steadicam in some scenes to create energy. Then there are the terrific performances from both Mara and Law. Both were at the top of their game which gave the film the validly it needed.

Because Side Effects purposely misleads the audience there is a constant whodunnit mystery that makes for an overall entertaining watch. The first act of the film is deeply engaging as many layers start to unravel. Although the story starts to get a little too procedural in its second act, the final act kicks everything into high gear again by twisting the plot several times before settling (and that is what it felt like) on the final twist. Unfortunately, some of the misdirection ends up feeling more like swindling than intriguing in an otherwise well-made film.

Short Term 12

SXSW film-goers pegged this picture pretty well when they gave it the audience award a few months ago. Destin Cretin’s second feature in as many years is an honest crowd pleaser that leaves you feeling all warm inside. Brie Larson, in an exceptional dramatic turn, and a solid John Gallagher Jr., mentor a very good ensemble cast as the head staff at foster care facility named Short Term 12. Cretin skillfully reveals that the bright faculty of this care center emerged from a similar backgrounds as many of the children they oversee. He does so with a script that skirts the many clichés of a ‘troubled kids’ drama and renders his characters painfully clear. In a post-screening Q and A he admitted to working in a facility similar to the one depicted in the film and conducting hours of interviews with workers and children as research.

Short Term 12 often deals in extreme emotions and Cretin guides his actors skillfully into restrained performances, yet at times the filmmaking fails to follow suit. Too often the production sound falls to a dreamy silence as the music, an excellent score from young composer Joel West, pumps up the emotion when audiences are already right there with the film. So many recent filmmakers have adopted a “naturalist”, documentary, or handheld style that it feels like the new norm. It’s more shocking to see carefully executed dolly shots and classical editing than shaky close-ups in low lighting. In Short Term 12, Cretin with long time cinematographer Brett Pawlak, execute this style to a tee and allow their actors to shine. Cretin and his team craft a beautiful film about nontraditional families using traditional storytelling.

RATING: 8

Ain’t Them Bodies Saints

David Lowery’s unclear and unconvincing script extinguishes what could have been a fiery noir burning with lust and violence. His story contains many great crime genre staples—a love struck criminal, a beautiful country girl, a menacing father figure, lusty cops, and a prison escape; not to mention it’s set in the 30s. The industrious Lowery has lured immense talent to his film but fails to deliver even an ounce of the proposed excitement.

Full Review of Ain’t Them Bodies Saints

RATING: 5

In a World

Lake Bell, a lovely character actor, makes her feature debut as writer/director with the unique comedy In a World. She draws from an impressive Rolodex of friends, such as Children’s Hospital co-stars Rob Courdry, Ken Marino, and Nick Offerman. Bell delights in filling most of the cast with comedians who all excel in dramatic turns. In a World works because it is not just silly nonsense like many of this summer’s comedies, but a compelling father daughter story set in the goofy, yet interesting, niche world of Hollywood voiceover artists.

Bell plays, Carol, a shiftless layabout who specializes in voice coaching dialects because she thinks she cannot make it in the cutthroat would of voice acting, dominated by her father, Sam, played by the marvelous Fred Melamed. Sam seems comfortable to pass the torch to a younger voice stud named Gustav when studios revive the classic movie trailer phrase, “In a World…” for a new round of epic Hunger Games/Twilight-esque films, but Carol begins booking voice over gigs of her own and throws a wrench into this male dominated world. On paper the plot seems a bit trite, but the wealth of supporting characters, touching family drama, and beautiful performances all around make for a great time. Bell perfectly balances the laughs with the drama and never lets the story get too silly or too dire. She crafts a wonderful and heartfelt comedy that also addresses serious issues of family relationships and feminism in Hollywood yet remains entertaining throughout. I look forward to more films from Bell.

RATING: 7

My third day at the Cannes Film Festival brought both my favorite and least favorite films of the festival so far. After hearing some positive buzz around the Japanese film, Soshite chichi ni naru (Like Father, Like Son), I decided to give the film a chance. And I am glad that I did. It was the first film that I have seen here that was able to take a simple narrative and make it into something complex and organized. It is definitely going to be hard to top Like Father, Like Son. Then I headed over to the Miramar theater to catch my first International Critics’ Week film, Ain’t Them Bodies Saints. The film was picked up by IFC Films right after it won a couple awards after it premiered at the Sundance Film Festival. Ain’t Them Bodies Saints‘s director David Lowery came on stage alongside the leads Casey Affleck and Rooney Mara, to introduce his film to a packed theater for its first foreign screening of the film. My third and final film of the day ended up being the biggest bust at Cannes so far for me. I stood in line for nearly 1 and a half hours for the French film, Tip Top, only to realize that I apparently do not get French “humor”. Reactions from a primarily French audience received a lot of laughs, just none from me and a few others that were not able to make it all the way through the film.

Outside of the Miramar Theater in Cannes for Ain’t Them Bodies Saints

Like Father, Like Son

Like Father, Like Son gracefully touches on social class issues, nature versus nurture, and the “right” way to raise a child. After finding out that their six-year-old child got switched at birth, the main focus of the film is the decision to choose bloodlines or the six important years of parenting and bonding with a child, Like Father, Like Son continuously develops its story. The film shows its cards almost right away but it remains intriguing long after you think it has played its hand. As a whole, the film is an excellent display of storytelling as it takes a rather basic premise and turns it into the emotionally complex film that it is.

RATING: 8.9

Read my full review of Like Father, Like Son

Ain’t Them Bodies Saints

Ain’t Them Bodies Saints is set in the sun-filled landscapes of Texas where Bob Muldoon (Casey Affleck) and his recently pregnant wife Ruth Guthrie (Rooney Mara) are on the run from cops after a string of robberies. Only a few scenes into the film, the shootout between them and the police ends with Bob being hauled off to prison where he is sentenced to stay for the next 25 years. However, Bob would only stay there four years before busting out in order get back to his family. This sends a local sheriff Patrick Wheeler (Ben Foster) on the case to track him down. Ain’t Them Bodies Saints ends up being more about the love between Bob and Ruth than it is about the action, which makes for some pacing issues.

However, biggest fault of the film is not investing enough into the one thing that is chose to focus on; the relationship between the couple. Because of this, Bob’s fate feels inevitably doomed but I found myself not caring if he ever makes it back to his wife or daughter. Affleck does dominate the screen when he appears and makes a good case for one of his better roles as an actor, which makes it all the more sad that his character is underwritten. Ain’t Them Bodies Saints takes a risk by starting the film with one of it’s only action-packed scenes instead of spending a little more time setting up its characters. By the end, the film loses too much of its initial steam that results for an unsatisfying ending.

RATING: 6.7