It’s been an outstanding 2015 for Pixar. Coming just months after the studio’s conceptually elaborate and ingeniously inventive Inside Out is the more traditional, poetic and pure The Good Dinosaur. The former is a dazzling exploration of the human mind, the latter an agrarian ballad of the soul. Directed by Pete Sohn, The Good Dinosaur flips the classic boy-and-his-pet tale on its head with an odd role reversal: the towering beast is the talkative one, his human sidekick a non-speaking, mangy, doglike traveling partner. Still, the story’s mostly rooted in convention, fueled by good-natured, broad comedy and familiar life lessons to any and all Disney fanatics. It doesn’t break new ground in the same ways Inside Out does, but in the realm of visual artistry and craftsmanship, The Good Dinosaur is king.

Before any of the characters say a word, we get a demonstration of just how insane(ly talented) the digital artists at Pixar really are. Lush landscapes are blanketed by golden sunshine, shadows cast by the plants and animals living in tranquil harmony. It’s unmistakably our world (it’s breathtakingly convincing, really), but with a twist. As the movie opens we see earth 65 million years ago, around the time of the dinosaurs’ extinction. Rather than colliding with big blue, it whiffs and zooms onward into the cosmos, birthing an alternate timeline in which dinosaurs rule the planet for millions of years to come.

With knobby knees and an endearing lack of coordination, our leaf green apatosaur hero, Arlo (Raymond Ochoa), is welcomed into the world by Momma (Frances McDormand) and Poppa (Jeffrey Wright), hard-working farmers who hope he and his siblings, Libby and Buck, will help them tend to the family’s land for generations to come. This first portion of the story feels the most familiar, with the kids learning responsibility by plowing the fields and feeding the chickens at the foot of a toothy mountain range, the teeming landscape looking a lot like the American Northwest.

Arlo’s a bit of a runt and has an issue with fear, an undesirable trait Poppa’s determined to stomp out by taking him on a hunting mission, their target a young human “critter” who keeps stealing from the family’s corn harvest. A dark storm builds during their riverside pursuit, and Poppa tragically gets swept away by a flash flood, Mufasa-style. The family mourns, and just a short time later, Arlo sees the critter swiping corn yet again. He pursues with vengeance on his mind but, like his father, he gets swept away by the river’s current, leaving him stranded miles from home. His unlikely companion on his journey home is the critter, Spot (Jack Bright), a homo sapien who scrambles around on all fours and barks and snarls at anything of interest (Looney Toon the Tasmanian Devil comes to mind). Together, the once-enemies learn to trust one another as they search for home, meeting colorful allies and baddies along the way.

Mother nature is unquestionably the star of the show, arguably taking precedence over Arlo and Spot. There’s a strong sense that nature is the be-all-end-all, this enormous, beautiful, unfathomably powerful thing that the characters are at the mercy of at any given moment. Many movies cast our planet as a pretty backdrop, nothing more. But the folks at Pixar are more thoughtful than that, invoking the almost religious reverence of the great outdoors of classic great plains westerns and the films of Werner Herzog. Dinosaur feels most like a western when Arlo and Spot meet a family of t-rex buffalo herders, led by a grizzly, slow-talkin’ patriarch, played by the most popular cowboy thesp of the moment, Sam Elliott (the designers cleverly fashion the characters’ top teeth to resemble the actor’s signature snowy ‘stache).

The movie’s got a lot on its mind, touching on themes of family, loss, fear, and even the timeless battle between herbivores and carnivores: early on, Spot scavenges for animals and grubs for Arlo to eat, all of which repulse the long-necked plant eater. Eventually, they bond over their shared love of fresh berries and even share a moment where they wordlessly consider the value of fresh fruit. What’s problematic is that the film only touches on these ideas and doesn’t follow through in a fulfilling way, save for the main theme regarding Arlo finding courage in compassion. The story also seems to be leaning towards a message of chosen family, but that all gets undone in the end when Arlo and Spot make a heartbreaking decision that, while emotionally wrenching, doesn’t make a whole lot of sense.

These issues are easier to swallow when you consider how touchingly the characters’ friendship is developed. The movie’s most tender moment involves Arlo and Spot using sticks and lines drawn in the dirt to express to each other the hurt they feel for their lost loved ones. It’s nice to have a movie come along every once in a while that lets its characters shut up for a minute and appreciate their surroundings. The Good Dinosaur is more humble than Pixar’s typical fare, choosing to refine and riff on familiar ideas and themes rather than build new ones from the ground up and live on the cutting edge. It doesn’t feel hip and new, but timeless and classical, like movies from Disney Animation’s ’90s glory days.

An actor earns serious credit when they not only perform incredibly in a role but perform it in a way that makes audiences believe no one else could have possibly played it better. Not to overly gush about a film others have already gushed enough over, but I was oozing with said respect when exiting Grandma. Not only is it a well-written film with a rare and fiercely defined main character, but its title role fits its perfectly casted actor, Lily Tomlin, in perfect symbiosis. Playing this role at this point in her career is perfect timing, and Paul Weitz casting and utilizing her unique talents is an example of the art of directing at its finest. Though comedy might be the safest genre for allowing septuagenarians to shine (though Grandma is more a part of that ambiguous sub-genre of dramedy), it’s films like this that prove there is a trove of older actors who, in addition to the talent they already bring, provide another level of performance that, when given the chance, can absolutely blow us away.

This secret reserve of talent—likely derived straight from life experience—is something Tomlin displays in abundance in Grandma. A taciturn and grieving widow, Tomlin plays Elle Reid, a feminist poet and movement leader, still revered if not much remembered from her glory days. A year and a half has passed since her partner Violet has died from cancer, and her relationship with a much younger woman, Olivia (Judy Greer), is ending and she deals with it with the same cutting rigidity with which she faces all of life’s challenges, telling Olivia she doesn’t love her, and to leave her key on the table. Elle hardly has time to actually process this breakup when her teenaged granddaughter Sage (the curly-haired goddess Julia Garner) shows up on her front door, pregnant and in need of funds for an abortion.

Elle does her due diligence as a grandma—complaining about the price of an abortion these days—and also as a wizened woman, asking Sage if she’s thought through the decision since she’s likely to think of it at some point every day for the rest of her life, but never tries to talk her out of it. Instead, she grabs the keys to her vintage Dodge and agrees to help Sage scare up the $600 she needs by 5:30 that afternoon. As Elle attempts to collect on old debts and the goodwill of friends, more of her varied and complicated life is revealed. Laverne Cox is a tattoo artist buddy who tells of Elle’s kindhearted gift of loaning her money to fix a botched transgender boob-job. Elizabeth Pena is coffee shop owner who puts Elle in her place by offering $50 for some of her old first edition hardbacks, including The Feminine Mystique (and Sage wonders aloud if the book has anything to do with The X-Men). Elle challenges Sage’s sensibilities, teaching her along the way by standing up to her deadbeat boyfriend when Sage won’t (hilariously kicking the teenager’s ass) and making a scene in a coffee shop when the proprietor asks her to quiet down when discussing abortion.

While clearly pro-choice, the film doesn’t especially try to conventionalize or even trivialize abortion but instead bring it into colloquial terms. Sage’s decision is treated with gravity and respect. It’s even given an interesting dual-perspective by another character in the film, who expresses the sadness an abortion once brought them with sincerity and dignity. The crux of the film lies within a scene between Elle and her one-time husband Karl (Sam Elliott, also absolutely shining), he an unfortunate casualty of Elle being gay at a time when no one was discussing such things and thus part of her path of destruction in her youth.  They chit-chat about lovers and grandchildren, roll a doobie together, and then go on to have a fiercely charged and emotionally revealing series of exchanges that perfectly expresses the complexity of real relationships, the many forms of love, and the way our decisions shape us and stay with us as we mature.

Paul Weitz is a wonder in being able to capture saturated morsels of the different humor associated with different age ranges and genders. In American Pie he nailed the adolescent male mind without demeaning it, and here he’s traveled the length of the spectrum (galaxy?) to home in on the perfectly evolved humor of an aging widowed lesbian academic. I’ve certainly never heard anyone insult another by calling them a “writer-in -residence” but the joke is among the sharpest of the film. All involved should certainly remain in the minds of voters when awards season rolls around.

Filled with laughs, realistic love, and a freedom to emote, Grandma is as cathartic as it is hilarious. Even while seeing the pain that comes from a lifetime filled with loss and experience, the wisdom and humor of a lifetime’s experience is given equal merit. It’s enough to make being a grandma look like the coolest job out there, and a reason to look forward to advancing through our years.

A version of this review was originally published as part of our Tribeca 2015 coverage.

Go through the massive list of stars that appear in Joe Swanberg’s Digging for Fire and it might be easy to claim that one of the most prolific names in modern indie has “gone mainstream.” But actually watch Digging for Fire (or Happy Christmas or Drinking Buddies), and it’s clear that the mainstream has actually come knocking on Swanberg’s door. This is the same low-key, character-based storytelling Swanberg has been honing for years, only now with a plethora of talent and established names thrown into the mix. And, if anything, Digging for Fire shows Swanberg as a filmmaker in total control, using his ensemble and skills at creating a casual, inviting tone to make a subtle and fascinating exploration of commitment, aging and marriage.

Taking place in Los Angeles, the film opens with married couple Lee (Rosemarie Dewitt) and Tim (Jake Johnson, who co-wrote with Swanberg) taking their son Jude (Swanberg’s own son, stealing every scene he’s in) to house-sit for one of Lee’s wealthy clients. While Lee goes off working as a yoga instructor, Tim—a public school teacher—stays at home during the summer break. Soon after arriving, Tim starts poking around the house and discovers a bone and an old gun buried in a yard behind the house. Tim wants to keep digging, but Lee doesn’t want him messing up her client’s property, and a host of other small disagreements between the two (including Tim’s refusal to put Jude in a private school) leads to Lee taking Jude to spend the weekend with her parents (Sam Elliott and Judith Light).

Tim takes the opportunity to invite some of his old buddies over (Sam Rockwell, Chris Messina, Mike Birbiglia and Kent Osborne, to name a few), and before long he’s convincing all of them to help dig up whatever else might be hiding underneath the property. At this point the film forks off into two narrative strands, one profiling Tim’s weekend with his friends, and the other following Lee trying to have a girl’s night out with her sister (Melanie Lynskey). Both Lee and Tim wind up finding themselves conflicted when they each encounter an opportunity to cheat; Lee meets a British restaurant owner (Orlando Bloom), and Tim makes nice with the young, carefree Max (Brie Larson).

Anyone familiar with Swanberg’s previous work won’t be surprised to learn the film’s central mystery is a nonstarter. It’s more of an excuse for getting characters together to casually chat about the themes Swanberg and Johnson really want to explore. “When did you feel like you got back to yourself?” Lee asks her mom at one point, wondering if marriage and motherhood have removed her ability to live her own life, and Tim admits to Max that he feels like he’s not maturing, he’s just getting older. Their brief exchanges with friends, family and strangers around them reveal that both Lee and Max have hesitations about staying in for the long haul of their marriage, with the hypothetical idea of something “better” existing out there tempting them into seeking individuality over partnership.

What makes Digging for Fire such an enjoyable yet fleeting experience is how Swanberg lets these ideas flow organically into the film through his terrific cast and tight editing. Narrative doesn’t mean much here, as it’s more about how Lee and Tim’s actions reflect their concerns. Dewitt and Johnson anchor the film nicely, and there isn’t a single weak spot in a cast that’s as sprawling as LA itself. Shooting on 35mm with cinematographer Ben Richardson (who also shot Drinking Buddies and, most famously, Beasts of the Southern Wild), the film’s keen eye for composition helps give it a cinematic feel that comes across as a surprise given its dialogue-heavy approach. Swanberg has made films for over a decade now, and at a pretty quick pace too (remember when he directed six films in 2011?), but in some ways Digging for Fire feels like the start of a newer, more refined era for him. It’s exciting to watch Swanberg in complete domination of his craft, but it’ll be more exciting to see what he does next.

Is it really possible that Lily Tomlin has gone this long without a starring vehicle of her own? The iconic actress has decades of perfectly timed, naturalistic punchlines under her belt, yet for years her parts have been largely reduced to limited arcs on TV shows or small, supporting roles in middling movies. Writer/Director Paul Weitz clearly saw the enormous potential in this market gap. Following his 2013 Tina Fey comedy Admission, in which Lily Tomlin played Fey’s mother, Weitz wrote an entire movie with Tomlin in mind.

Grandma premiered at this year’s Sundance Film Festival to slew of praise for Tomlin (Way Too Indie caught up with it at Tribeca and had glowing things to say, too). Despite its title, Tomlin’s character is far form a withered, weakened old lady. In Grandma, Tomlin plays Elle Reid, a misanthropic lesbian poet, whose granddaughter Sage (Julia Garner) shows up broke and in need of an abortion. Together, the two journey to collect cash, confront their pasts, and hit Nat Wolff in the balls with a hockey stick.

Grandma also stars a collection of familiar faces, many of them in the trailer, including Sam Elliott, John Cho, Marcia Gay Harden, Judy Greer and Laverne Cox. While New Zealanders will get a early chance to see Grandma at the New Zealand International Film Festival in July, Americans everywhere will have to cope with Granmda‘s August 21st release date by watching and re-watching the pleasant new trailer below:

It’s common, even in the early days of summer, to fall victim to what I like to call “big boom fatigue.” After watching face-melting fireworks displays like Avengers: Age of Ultron, Furious 7 and Mad Max: Fury Road, you’re liable to feel a little exhausted from all the excitement. Sometimes you need a little respite from all the CGI carnage and falling debris, a mild-mannered, quiet movie to act as a sort of counter-balance to all the big-budget noise. For this, you’d be hard-pressed to do better than I’ll See You In My Dreams, a moving, silky-smooth character portrait about an older woman’s private lament of a world passing her by and the beauty of life in twilight. It’s your one-way ticket to summertime serenity.

The film’s keystone is Blythe Danner, whose soft, sophisticated performance will occupy your thoughts for a good long while. She plays Carol, a long-widowed, peacefully retired woman who spends her days drifting around her comfy house and lazing about with Hazel, her ailing dog. When she’s forced to put her canine companion down, her lazing turns lonesome (this happens very early in the movie, but by this point Danner’s already won us over, a testament to her talent). The grief over Hazel’s passing strikes Carol like blunt force trauma, scrambling whatever semblance of stability she had.

Thankfully, Carol’s got human friends, too; three of them, in fact (they’re played by June Squibb, Rhea Perlman and Mary Kay Place). It’s straight-up Golden Girls status, and it’s awesome. The girlfriends all live in the same retirement community and get together regularly to play bridge and clink glasses of chardonnay. The three supporting characters are just defined enough to build a fun group dynamic, and the actors are courteous to Danner, being mindful about letting their leader lead.

In a funny scene later in the movie, the girls get high on medicinal weed and trek to the grocery store to quell the subsequent case of munchies that grips them. They’re a wild bunch: they get stopped by a police officer a third their age for pushing home a shopping cart full of snacks on the side of the road. They laugh in his face, because they’re badasses. (Yeah…it was the weed at work, too. But still: GRANNIES RULE!)

After some playful coaxing, the girls convince Carol to revisit her romantic pursuits after a years-long dry spell. She’s persuaded to try speed dating, which doesn’t exactly pan out the way she’d have liked. One particularly horny gentlemen (oaf) comes on to her by proudly proclaiming he “doesn’t mind” if she has herpes. Charming! In any case, Carol finds more desirable opportunities for romance out in the real world, away from the procession of gray-haired creepers.

She’s courted by a leather-skinned widower named Bill (Sam Elliott, whose immaculately groomed, snowy broom-stache is all kinds of epic), a heavy-steppin’ cowboy type whose gravelly voice and bracingly direct advances make Carol quiver like an autumn leaf. He’s all but got her heart in his hands, but there’s another guy. A pool guy, to be exact. Lloyd (Martin Starr), a new, younger male presence in Carol’s life, strikes up an unusual relationship with her. One night they go out for some drinks and karaoke, and Carol tears down the house with a ravishing rendition of “Cry Me a River”. The look plastered on Lloyd’s face as she sings is unmistakably one of desire. There’s some kind of spark between them, but writer-director Brett Haley and co-writer Marc Basch don’t ever bring these blurred lines into focus. It’s a smart choice that gives the movie some depth and color. A little goes a long way.

Speaking of Mr. Haley, he’s in his twenties and wrote a movie about an elderly woman’s acquiescence with mortality. Kudos, kudos, kudos (I’m nearly 30 and can’t figure out women my age). He shows good taste, opting for sly, sardonic humor over broad-comedy pandering. The movie never begs you to laugh, or cry, or do anything. It moves us at its own pace, and though some moments feel like cold spots (some of the “Neo-Golden Girls” banter feels protracted and dips into cliché), the story on the whole is gloriously unhurried.

Utmost respect goes to Danner, whose gift is invaluable. She’s got the gentlest touch. Instead of having a rough-and-tumble grappling match with death himself, she leans in and puts her head on his chest. They engage in a sort of slow dance, swaying tearfully to a dirge from the great beyond. Then, she sticks her tongue out as if to say, “Why so serious?” What a treasure. Respect to Haley as well, who with I’ll See You In My Dreams has declared himself a young filmmaker whose vision is anything but ordinary.

In the midst of Movember, there are a number of men doing their best to spread awareness of men’s health issues with their burgeoning bristles. We at Way Too Indie fully support this “mo”vement — especially if it means that we all get to bask in the glory of millions of moustaches walking around us every day for a whole month. Whether you’ve already got an illustrious comb or you’re just straining to sprout something from a few of your follicles, if you are among the bros striving to grow your own facial man stamp, here’s a list of some of the best moustaches in movie history to keep you in the mood to “mo.”

Groucho Marx, Duck Soup

Among the most famous of moustaches, no ‘Best Of’ list would be complete without Groucho Marx’s trademark broomstache. Shaded by two equally substantial eyebrows, Groucho’s (obviously fake) facial hair was the rimshot to his every fast-flowing joke. Indeed, all one has to do is pick up a pair of those trademark fake nose glasses with attached moustache and anyone can be just as funny as he was. Sort of. [Ananda]

Charlie Chaplin, Modern Times

So Hitler’s toothbrush moustache is a shining example of how one person can ruin a fashion trend (and for the record, even the people of his time hated his look calling it rotzbremse or “snot brake”), but anyone who’s anyone knows Charlie Chaplin had it first, and he made it adorable. Swishing his ‘stache like a broom, he swept up audience’s hearts. And never one to pass up on a comedic opportunity, he went on to parody Hitler in The Great Dictator shortly after. [Ananda]

Frederick Loren, House on Haunted Hill

Because it’s the classiest of classic moves to have at the heart of a haunted house flick a mustachioed and sinister host. Vincent Price combines his wonderful lip crown with a pair of incredibly expressive eyebrows to deliver this most delightful performance. It almost makes you giddy. Yes, even you. [Scarlet]

Rhett Butler, Gone With the Wind

You might have thought it was his sparkling eyes or his darling dimple. But, no, it was most obviously that clever little moustache that kept Scarlett hanging on. Maybe Clark Gable didn’t give a damn, but you wouldn’t think so with how much time and devotion he would need to have taken every morning to keep that well groomed look of his so, well, groomed. [Scarlet]

Sentenza, The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly

Ah, Angel Eyes. Nothing like a good twirly, villainous mustache to bring them out, too. Lee Van Cleef was proud of those beady eyes, his main moneymaker. But what better accessory to pair them with than this wonderful example of a mighty moustache? [Scarlet]

Don Vito Corleone, The Godfather 

Marlon Brando is proof positive that there is no need for a dude to be able to nurture a full fledged Yosemite Sam ‘stache in order to illicit the fear of god into those he may need to intimidate. For a good cause of course. Or, at least, family. [Scarlet]

Bandit, Smokey and the Bandit

There are few faces in this world that look downright wrong without their trademark manhandle, and Burt Reynolds is among those people. The Bandit’s smile wouldn’t seem so pearlescent without the accent of a big dark ‘stache. What happens when Burt tries to shave? Deliverance. Enough said. [Ananda]

Peter Mitchell, Three Men and A Baby

Yeah, they were all pretty manly, but there’s a reason Tom Selleck was the Alpha Male of this trio. That facial badge of his just gives him straight up authority among men and they all knew it. Even the baby. [Scarlet]

Hook, Hook

It’s hard to say which is more impressive about Dustin Hoffman’s thin and well-waxed moustache in Hook, the precise way it contrasts under his huge nose or the amazing ability Hoffman had to make it move like its own limb. Never in a movie has a close up on a ticking moustache been so sinister. We’re still getting chills. Good form, old man, good form. [Ananda]

Wyatt and Virgil Earp, Tombstone

Virgil’s moustache is definitely the huskier of the two, but it’s Kurt Russell’s clear blue eyes that would make anyone swoon. And making them pop with that glorious face trophy? It doesn’t help that it’s a perfect replica of something that actually existed in history. #heartbreaker [Scarlet]

The Stranger, The Big Lebowski

As the seminal narrator of The Big Lebowski, Sam Elliott gets very little actual screen time in the film as The Stranger. Which is why it’s even more impressive he made our list. His wisdom for The Dude is added very real depth by the measure of the walrus whiskers accenting his words. The grayness of it has the Gandalf effect of adding poise, even as he mutters such things as “the Dude abides” and “got any more of that good sarsaparilla?” [Ananda]

Bill “The Butcher” Cutting, Gangs of New York

There are villains, and then there are villains with truly impressive facial hair. Daniel Day-Lewis as Bill the Butcher was intimidating enough with his butcher knife and plaid pants, but he took it entirely next level by achieving that most rare of moustaches, what I call the full-bodied rounded point. Like a handlebar, but this version holds on to you. [Ananda]

Borat, Borat

While I would never really suggest anyone sitting through this movie, even for awareness’ sake, there is definitely something to be said for Sacha Baron Cohen’s heavy hitter of man-glory. This was a crowning achievement. How many words can I come up with for moustache? [Scarlet]

Jack, The Darjeeling Unlimited 

When it comes to hitting the facial follicle gene jackpot, Jason Schwartzman had all the right numbers. Jewish Italian pretty much guarantees him the ability to grow whatever kind of facial cover-up he desires. He may play the shortest and youngest of the three brothers, but his distinctive lip luggage gave him all the gravitas he needed.  [Ananda]

Walt Disney, Saving Mr. Banks

When it comes to thinner moustaches it’s (literally) a fine line between your John Waters pencil mark moustache, a pubescent boy’s first attempts at peach fuzz, and the charming subtlety of Walt Disney’s well-spaced bristle. But Tom Hanks definitely pulls it off (I mean, it’s Tom Hanks, he could probably pull off the toothbrush Hitler-look with his overabundance of radiating goodness). Maybe his magic came from the ‘stache? [Ananda]

Theodore, Her

We’re willing to give Joaquin Phoenix some credit and say that his piercing but sad eyes are what made his character so sympathizable in Her, but that common dude brostache added even more of a touch of the everyman. It’s only a shame the virtual Samantha never got to appreciate the comfort some solid lipholstery can bring.  [Ananda]

Charles Mortdecai, Mortdecai

And, coming in 2015, we will finally see Johnny Depp sporting the moustache he deserves.  As a redhead (can I say ginger?) no less.  But that’s your motivation for next year.  Stay strong, my friends. [Scarlet]

Want to contribute to the cause, or grow a ‘stache to support men’s health? Get involved and find details at the Movember website.