Review: “The Other You”

By Morgan Roberts

Director: Shoshana Rosenbaum
Writer: Julie Gold
Stars: Beth Hylton, Vivienne Sievers, Staci Dickerson, Dennis Courtis, Kris Arnold, Jules Kanarek
Runtime: 1h 18min
Year: 2025

There are moments in our lives we simply want to get away. Work is demanding, our romantic relationships are strained, the non-stop work of being a parent becomes overwhelming. It is a universal struggle we all at face some point in our lives, and Shoshana Rosenbaum’s film, “The Other You,” explores just that. In the film, writer Annie (Beth Hylton) wants to get away. As she attempts to work on her new book, her husband Jack (Kris Arnold) is barely present as he constantly works. Their children, Scarlet (Vivienne Sievers), Wyatt (Dennis Courtis), and Sophia (Jules Kanarek), when not fighting with each other, are consistently demanding Annie’s attention. But soon, Annie discovers a tiny door in her closet that takes her seemingly perfect life.

In this alternative world, her husband is attentive, her children get along, and most importantly, she can write. It is a first time in a long while where Annie can not only put herself first, but her family supports that. The film certainly highlights the gender disparity when it comes to the labor force motherhood and who bares the brunt of the emotional labor in a heterosexual marriage. We see this woman having to navigate the uneven responsibilities of maintaining a family and household. Moreover, the film also highlights the way in which more creative fields are not usually valued. Jack’s work, though not gone into great detail, is not a creative endeavor. In her reality, Jack’s work, his livelihood is valued far more than hers.  So, when she enters this alternate version of her life, to have her work and her relationship be valued by her partner feels almost revolutionary.

Kris Arnold and Beth Hylton in “The Other You”

Moreover, the film succeeds in allowing there to be a balance within this imbalance. For every character we see in one universe, we see in the other. In stands out from other films which have this subtly sci-fi element. Typically, we see these giant plot holes which can make just sitting with the piece distracting. Instead, this story device is used to elevate Annie’s struggle and how stuck she feels. The film brings it back to Annie consistently, even when Annie is not on screen.

There are moments the film has some repetition, but once it enters its third act, it really catapults its theme to a new level, integrating all facets of Annie’s life into this other dimension. “The Other You” feels quite refreshing as it looks at a specific female experience for a woman of a certain age. So often, the stories of women in their late 30s, their 40s, their 50s, etc. are not really told with the complexity and nuance here. While not every woman has motherhood or marriage in their journey, there remains a universality to the attempted confines of one’s gender. The high expectations with little reward for the emotional intelligence and perseverance can be taxing. Watching a character like Annie navigate that conflict in a way that never takes away her agency nor diminishes her needs feels like a rarity.  “The Other You” spotlights this quest for fulfillment after years of patterns and behaviors which no longer serve you.

Grade: B

Pair This Film With: “Katie’s Mom” (2024) dir. Tyrrell Shaffner, “Nightbitch” (2024) dir. Marielle Heller, “Other People’s Children” (2022) dir. Rebecca Zlotwoski

“The Other You” is playing at the DC Independent Film Festival on Thursday, February 13.  For tickets, visit: https://www.eventbrite.com/e/the-other-you-premiere-feature-film-screening-with-cast-crew-tickets-1215507879789

Review: “Sorry, Baby”

By Morgan Roberts

Director: Eva Victor
Writer: Eva Victor
Stars: Eva Victor, Naomi Ackie, Lucas Hedges, John Carroll Lynch, Louis Cancelmi, Kelly McCormack
Runtime: 1hr 43min
Year: 2025

I’m sorry that bad things are going to happen to you. I hope they don’t.

Cinema has always examined trauma, the tidal wave that hits after, and, because it is film, a phoenix rising from the ashes. A phoenix that would have never found strength without enduring that trauma in the first place. It is an antiquated and tired story arch, that, until recently, has been the most pervasive depiction of trauma. “Sorry, Baby,” which just premiered at the Sundance Film Festival, subverts our expectations in a far more grounded and humanistic portrayal of trauma and survival. In their feature directorial debut, Eva Victor explores surviving trauma and navigating a world that views your experience through a constricted lens.

Agnes (Victor) is an academic living in New England. Over a five year span, we witness her life before and after she is assaulted by a trusted faculty member. After the assault, Agnes soon finds herself somehow frozen yet remaining in motion. Life does not stop, and there are moments it feels it is dragging her forward rather than her being an active participant. As her best friend, Lydie (Naomi Ackie) moves away and builds a separate life of her own, Agnes remains in coastal New England, teaching in the very walls which broke her trust.

Victor has been known for their comedy for years - my own introduction to their work being their quarantine “Portrait of a Lady on Fire.” Witnessing Victor balance her same sense of humor with the heavy and human experience of trauma is truly watching a master at their craft. She is able to weave together that humor and serious subject matter with the same sincerity that has always made Victor’s work so captivating. Behind the camera, Victor understands what is important to show, as well as moments that are best left to the imagination of the audience.

Victor never underestimates their viewers, instead, challenges them to meet Agnes where she is at. We are never forced to watch Agnes be assaulted, but we do sit with her and Lydie as Agnes recounts it. And interestingly (and importantly), the language used and not used gives nuance to traumatic experiences, especially sexual assault. Sometimes, bestowing a label to an experience can, for some, speak into existence the true horrors of what someone endured; and doing that could be catastrophic for a person just trying to hold their head above water. Survival and self-preservation look different for everyone.

Eva Victorappears in “Sorry, Baby” by Eva Victor, an official selection of the 2025 Sundance Film Festival. Courtesy of Sundance Institute | photo by Mia Cioffi Henry.

That is perfectly captured in the relationship between Agnes and Lydie. Lydie is in the same graduate program as Agnes. Graduate school can almost be a form of trauma-bonding. It is a grueling and relentless experience that many people sign up for, semester after semester, but the people moving through your program with you understand that experience intrinsically. Lydie is the first person who Agnes tells about her assault, and Lydie clearly weighs what she can say to make sure Agnes feels heard without pushing her too far. It should be noted that Ackie is incredible here. She and Victor have great chemistry, that their friendship feels so natural. And in this scene in particular, Ackie holds so much space in that moment. It takes a really skilled actor to hold space for their fellow actor, remain so grounded and present in a scene like that. Again, it is that work that makes this friendship feel so natural and lived in.

In addition to being able to meet Agnes in her truth, Lydie matches her humor. In one moment, Agnes has an intrusive impulse and finds herself telling lie after lie to her neighbor Gavin (Lucas Hedges) in order to obtain lighter fluid.  Coming home with lighter fluid in hand, Agnes tells Lydie about what she almost did and Lydie offers to follow through. It is both hilarious and touching. It is witty, dry humor which matches the intelligence of the characters.

“Sorry, Baby” is a grounded and authentic depiction of life. Victor manages to make Agnes’ world feel truly lived-in. There is a specificity to this film that makes it such a refreshing cinematic experience, while also being rooted in universal human truths. Whether it is our best friend, our grad school nemesis, the person your friend brought into the world, or yourself, there is a deeply genuine desire in this world for those we love to most to live an unscathed life knowing that will never be true. We will all be shaped by bad things that happen to us, directly or indirectly, and have to learn to make a new wholeness from events that alter us in some way.

The film is deeply moving and clearly so interested in the humanness that finds itself on the other side of trauma. In all of their roles, Victor demonstrates what a capable and sophisticated storyteller they are. The singularity in her vision paints a widely universal story which captivates, stirs, and emotionally devastates. It is one of the strongest directorial debuts I have ever seen, and will likely remain a personal litmus for films in 2025. Victor is absolutely breathtaking and gives an enrapturing performance full of heart, humor, and authenticity. “Sorry, Baby” is a striking film which beautifully depicts the magic and pain of living, and the quiet resilience which exists in us all.

Grade: A+

Pair This Film With: “I Used to Be Funny” (2024) dir. Ally Pankiw, “Sometimes I Think About Dying” (2024) dir. Rachel Lambert, “Wanda” (1970) dir. Barbara Loden

“Sorry, Baby” is apart of the 2025 Sundance Film Festival, and screening online now through Sunday, 02 February 2025.

Review: “All Happy Families

By Morgan Roberts

Director: Haroula Rose
Writers: Coburn Goss and Haroula Rose
Stars: Josh Radnor, Chandra Russell, Rob Huebel, Becky Ann Baker, John Ashton, Ivy O’Brien, and Liz Cardenas
Runtime: 1h 30 min
Year: 2024

Families are sometimes messy, sometimes delightful, and we all have some version of a family. Whether they are blood related relatives, marriage into a family, or chosen family, we all experience the highs and lows of our interpersonal relationships with our family members. In her latest film, “All Happy Families,” Haroula Rose explores one family as the navigate the crossroads they find themselves at.

Graham Landry (Josh Radnor) prepares to rent out a unit in his childhood home. A struggling actor and writer, he’s hoping his new screenplay will be his big break.  As he preps the home, his first interested tenant is Dana (Chandra Russell), Graham’s college crush. But this reunion is further complicated for Graham when his brother Will (Rob Huebel) returns to the family home. Will, an actor, is facing accusations of sexual harassment on the set of his television show. Family tensions further arise when parents Sue (Becky Ann Baker) and Roy (John Ashton) arrive to see their sons.

The film masterfully gives voice to each of its characters, never detracting from the from one story arch in order to uplift another.  The male characters of this film are refreshing. Graham, our introduction into this story, is a tremendously layered character. When we meet Graham, he appears stuck. He knows what he wants out of life, but struggles to make tangible changes to move himself forward. He also tends to have similar characteristics to his mother, Sue. He values his relationships and is willing to do the emotional labor to maintain those relationships. His main source of inner conflict is his self-sabotaging nature. It is refreshing to see our central male character have these layers.

Additionally, with Will and his serious allegations, the film never minimizes the weight of those actions, while not making Will completely villainous. He is complicated. Moreover, there is a resounding sense of disappointment and accountability towards Will in a way that ensures the conflict is not a “did he or did he not” harass his coworker, but more of a struggle to understand how to move forward. It is one of the most tactful depictions of this in film.

While the male characters are given a lot of nuance, the female characters are equally cared for in the film. Sue not only retires from her job but is sexually harassed as she’s leaving the workforce. Not only does she have to grapple with the changes that come with retiring, what that means for her marriage, her sense of self, but she enters what should be a celebratory period being violated by her former boss. It is incredibly relevant to the female experience, and some of the most memorable scenes are Sue confiding in her female friend group of what happened to her, then seeing this group rally to support Sue in this moment.

Meanwhile, Dana frequently serves as our audience surrogate, experiencing this family with us while being on her own journey. Dana is starting anew as she navigates her culinary workplace somewhat recently sober. While she might not be entrenched in this family (yet!), she certainly orbits their universe, bringing her own authentic experiences with her.

At just 90 minutes, the film impressively manages to bring all of these characters to life while sincerely touching on heavy subjects. It never loses the weight of what it is discussing including Roy’s gambling addiction or Evie’s (Ivy O’Brien) coming out story as a transgender woman, but it allows for heart to remain. We have moments where we can share in laughter with the family, or cheer for these characters to succeed. This is largely due to the impeccable script from Rose and co-writer Coburn Goss. The screenplay never doubts the intelligence of its audience and literally plops you into the story. You can pick up on context clues and use your own emotions to gauge where the characters are.

It also doesn’t hurt that the cast feels so effortlessly close. You can understand these characters through their interactions. Everyone feels at the top of their game. They somehow make the craft of acting look easy. And while you can assume having a good script helps an actor in the first place, the way the cast was able to grab hold and go along for the ride with these characters is a testament to how in tune they were with the material.

“All Happy Families” succeeds by having believable, authentic characters shepherding us through this story. Rose’s keen interest in humanity and genuineness keeps this film grounded and effortlessly breezy. In such a short time, the film manages to hook you in and wish you could stay with the Landry family indefinitely.

Grade: A

Pair This Film With: “In the Summers” (2024) dir. Alessandra Lacorazza; “Outside In” (2017) dir. Lynn Shelton; “The Savages” (2007) dir. Tamara Jenkins

If you’d like to spend time with the Landry family, “All Happy Families” is available to rent or own on VOD, and you can physically own the film on DVD.