THE CAST – Katarina Zhu, Rachel Sennott, Austin Amelio, Perry Yung & Jack Kilmer

THE TEAM – Katarina Zhu (Director/Writer)
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THE RUNNING TIME – 86 Minutes

Every generation believes they are going through a uniquely difficult time in their lives, when, in reality, many difficulties have already been faced. The landscape may have altered or, indeed, the technology available has fundamentally altered basic functions within society. However, the internal struggle of self-identity as one moves through the changing phases of adulthood has always been persistent. The birth of the internet and social media created equally opposing forces, manifesting spaces that could bring communities together as often as they pull them apart. Stuck between these points are many individuals who exist in a hazy middle ground, unsure about their final destination in a world that’s hard to find meaningful connections. It’s the foundation for many a character study, and “Bunnylovr” is another attempt to examine the melancholy that is especially prevalent among the young. What it gleams is an intriguing portrait, but it is also inconsistently engaging.

Rebecca (Katarina Zhu) has a life that would seem familiar to many young people navigating the modern world. She is barely invested in the menial office job she has, struggling to find anything about these tasks that is fulfilling. Her social circle is small, but apart from her artist friend Bella (Rachel Sennott) and the on-again/off-again fling with her former boyfriend, there is not much emotional weight there either. The strained relationship with her dying father (Perry Yung) causes even more emotional strain. The only element of her life that seems to indulge in any kind of passion is her work as a cam girl, where she puts on a show for eager voyeurs as a means to earn a significant part of her income. One member of her chat, John (Austin Amelio), takes a stronger interest in her. He frequently requests private communications and video calls and even sends her gifts, like a pet rabbit. She’s intrigued by his flattery but suspicious of the insidious undercurrent that hangs over every interaction. There are multiple crossroads she faces that mean to determine what exactly she means to extract from her existential crisis.

Zhu also fills the role of the film’s writer and director, and there is a compelling atmosphere that is captured by the hazy cinematography. The imagery drenches every scene in an opaque lens, mirroring the protagonist’s own clouded emotional status as she aimlessly drifts between one ungainly support structure after another. Her talents as a filmmaker are mixed at times, usually excelling with stark close-ups that highlight the immense isolation Rebecca faces, even when bombarded by her captive online audience. There is also the uneasy dread in the conversations with John, underscored by a dangerous attraction to violent urges that effectively increases the anxiety. However, the narrative she crafts is intentionally meandering, with little momentum. Every scene moves listlessly into the next, which may emphasize the lack of direction in the young woman’s life but also makes these relationships mostly play out on the surface. The conflicted feelings towards her old lover are not dwelt upon considerably, and the same goes for whatever tension may be there regarding her absentee father. John is the only one who mines any nuance from her psyche, as she finds herself attracted to this older man while still mindful of her surroundings. Yet, even this analysis is fractured, unfocused, and abruptly short-changed. There is evidence of a more compelling character exploration, but the execution struggles to fully engage.

The naturalism that inhabits all these performances is one of the best assets on display. No one brings any kind of heightened persona to these characters. All of them are portrayed in a realistic, grounded way, never quite sure how to find the right words to express their feelings in a way that feels authentic to actual humans communicating with one another. Zhu’s central anchor showcases both the yearning for personal freedom and the unease that can overtake one’s inhibitions. It’s a quiet portrayal that is one of the more talented she offers. The same is extended to Sennott, who really impresses in a turn that is far more toned down than the hyperactive personality she’s mostly known for. It’s less an amazing feat of acting and more an impressive display of range that fits this material. Amelio also has to walk a delicate line between alluring and repulsive in a way that would interest this person, and every scene he conveys that balance. He demonstrates both the charm and danger that lurk within, and he’s quite good. Yung is the one member of this ensemble that doesn’t get nearly enough, as the depth of the father-daughter dynamic is only ever hinted at to be something greater. He has easy chemistry and screen presence. Still, his handful of scenes have the same repetitive streak of attempting reconciliation before the character’s health deteriorates and is mostly regulated offscreen.

In many ways, “Bunnylovr” is applying a familiar shade to a traditional tale. Every new generation finds its identity through an arduous journey, and the technology that advances has made these efforts both convenient and exceptionally difficult. The film’s portrayal of this technology feels realistic, and the dialogue has a natural cadence that is appreciated, along with these endearing performances. Still, the languid progression of the storytelling makes it difficult to become fully enraptured by this portrait. There’s some nice attention to detail here that makes Zhu a promising filmmaker, but her debut feature leaves one wanting more from the textured world she’s crafting.

The post “BUNNYLOVR” appeared first on Next Best Picture.

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The post The Next Best Picture Podcast – “Saturday Night” appeared first on Next Best Picture.

THE CAST – Gabriel LaBelle, Rachel Sennott, Cory Michael Smith, Ella Hunt, Dylan O’Brien, Emily Fairn, Matt Wood, Lamorne Morris, Kim Matula, Finn Wolfhard, Nicholas Braun, Cooper Hoffman, Andrew Barth Feldman, Kaia Gerber, Tommy Dewey, Willem Dafoe, Matthew Rhys & J. K. Simmons

THE TEAM – Jason Reitman (Director/Writer) & Gil Kenan (Writer)
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THE RUNNING TIME – 109 Minutes

A movie about the early days of Saturday Night Live? It sounds like a disaster. That was what everyone thought when Jason Reitman (“Juno,” “Up in the Air”) first announced this project. But, much like the disorganized sketch show, produced by a 30-year-old with no production experience and staffed by and starring squabbling counterculture druggies at the film’s center, Reitman’s “Saturday Night” ends up being far more successful than anyone expected. Shrewdly choosing to avoid a sweeping biography of the early days of SNL, Reitman and co-writer Gil Keenan (“Monster House”) opt for the “Steve Jobs” style treatment of SNL—a ticking clock, real-time recreation of the 90 minutes leading up to the first episode.

Reitman acknowledges that in interviewing the participants of that first episode, seemingly every person has conflicting stories about what the first ever episode of SNL was like. What everyone agrees upon is that the experience was pure chaos. The resulting film is a synthesis that attempts to capture the essence of that experience, even if it may not be strictly accurate. The film doesn’t have much to say beyond reiterating that SNL was a chaotic mess, but it’s a miracle it ever got to air. Instead, it focuses on creating visceral thrill ride entertainment while providing some laughs along the way.

30-year-old Lorne Michaels (“The Fabelmans” star Gabriel Labelle) scrambles through NBC headquarters trying to make sense of a live production that even he is unsure exactly how to describe. His scripts aren’t finished. His actors view themselves as serious artists who think they’re too good for the material (John Belushi, played by Matt Wood, Garrett Morris, played by “New Girl’s” LaMorne Morris) or are egotists ready to steal the spotlight from Lorne with visions of becoming the next Johnny Carson (Chevy Chase, played Cory Michael Smith from “May December”), neurotics who just want to understand what’s going on (Billy Crystal, played by Nicholas Podany, Jim Henson played by Nicholas Braun), caught in a confusing semi love triangle with Lorne (Dan Aykroyd played by Dylan O’Brien and Rosie Shuster played by Rachel Sennott), or simply insane (Andy Kauffman played by Nicholas Braun). Lorne’s crew are unprofessional and unqualified, often quitting in the middle of a rehearsal or old school studio union hands who refuse to lift a finger more than they have to. Meanwhile, there is a studio exec (Willem Dafoe) itching for an excuse to cancel the show and NBC middle-men like Dick Ebersol (Cooper Hoffman) and studio censors briefing down Lorne’s neck about the show’s content and budget. Add to the mix fires, lighting equipment collapses, fights, walkouts, drug-induced psychotic breaks, the appearance of livestock, and unwelcome appearances by a spiteful Milton Berle (JK Simmons) all in the 90 minutes leading up to the show, and you have a movie that is more “All That Jazz” or “Birdman” than the tedious recreation of “best of” SNL skits or sentimental ode to “this is why SNL matters” that some feared it would be.

With a million fires to put out, the film is undoubtedly stressful. However, that stress doesn’t translate quite as effectively as it could because, unlike other “ticking clock” movies, the film’s ending is a fait accompli. We all know the show makes it to the air and becomes a mammoth hit. As a result, getting too invested in the stress and uncertainty on display is impossible because there is no world in which everything does not work out in the end.

That said, it is difficult not to be drawn in by the chaos and nervously giggle as one problem is compounded by another. This is partly due to the considerable technical craftsmanship on display. Reitman’s go-to cinematographer, Eric Steelberg, lenses proceedings with a cinema verite feel, smartly utilizing handheld in a way that captures the propulsive motion and chaos amid a sea of neon lights and clouds of cigarette smoke. Meanwhile, editors Nathan Orloff (“John Wick: Chapter 4”) and Shane Reid (“Deadpool & Wolverine”) maintain a breakneck pace that heightens the constant chaos and refuse to let the audience catch its breath, even when there is no true suspense as to the ending. Oscar-winning composer Jon Batiste (“Soul”) provides a Birdman-esque percussion score that enhances the sense of relentless movement.

Of course, “Saturday Night” doesn’t exclusively want to capture the stress of the first night. It also wants to paint a picture of who these people are, which made SNL exist. That is difficult to do while everything is constantly in motion. Reitman and Kenan utilize snappy Sorki-esque dialogue to merge jokes and exposition to flesh out crucial background information. Most of that exposition feels as natural as it could, especially when smoothed over by plenty of amusing one-liners. However, the exposition feels unnatural and clunky at times, such as when Rachel Sennott explains Lorne’s background as an abandoned child and the contours of her own relationship with him.

Similarly, not everyone is fleshed out as a character. Many of the characters are not. There simply isn’t time to do so.  And it doesn’t go unnoticed that aside from Sennott, the women characters end up with the short end of the stick as far as having fleshed-out motivations or standout moments onscreen. There is, however, a recreation of a sketch involving a scantily clad Dan Aykroyd being ogled by a trio of female construction workers, including Ella Hunt as Gilda Radnor, that warrants a special shoutout.

Fortunately, despite one or two amusing recreations, much of the comedy does not default to lazily recreating existing sketches. Instead, the humor mostly comes from punchy one-liners flung about by writers and standup comics who are bored and testing out new material. Unsurprisingly, the jokes batted about tend to often default to dick jokes, which range from amusing to eye-rolling, but it’s hard to imagine that the behind-the-scenes of SNL in the 70s was anything but a constant barrage of dick jokes. I wouldn’t hold the consistently fratty humor on display against the film because I can’t imagine it wasn’t period-accurate.

Regarding period accuracy, the production and costume design are meticulous recreations of the era. The production design, which recreates not only the backstage of SNL but also the surrounding 70s New York streets and the backstage of various other NBC shows, could net Jess Gonchor (“Hail, Caesar!,” “True Grit”) her third Oscar nomination. The makeup & hair design is mostly effective. Cory Michael Smith is uncanny, both in look and performance, as Chevy Chase, as is Matthew Wood as Belushi. Dylan O’Brien captures the essence of Aykroyd but not the look. Other members of the cast, like Nicholas Braun as both Jim Henson and Andy Kauffman, feel more like the kind of impression of a real-life figure that we might see on an actual episode of SNL rather than a performance that actually captures the essence of the real-life figure.

Of course, the most important character to nail was always going to be Lorne Michaels. After all, he’s onscreen in nearly every shot of the film. Gabriel LaBelle, at 21, is a decade too young to be the 30-year-old Lorne Michaels. The receding hairline wig and layering of five-o-clock shadow on his face do their best to age him up, but his Lorne Michaels still feels young. And at 30, Lorne Michaels was, in fact, young, but LaBelle feels too young. He mostly nails the neuroticism and borderline madness of a stressed-out Michaels on the verge of losing his show. Still, at times, he struggles to sell the film’s Sorkin-esque monologues convincingly, especially when he’s shouting or sharing the scene with the also 21-year old Cooper Hoffman, who passes more believably as the 30-year-old Dick Ebersol.

Ultimately, how Reitman chooses to tell the story of the early days of SNL was probably the most effective way the story could have been told. Is it deep? Not really. But is it much better than anyone probably expected this kind of movie to be? Absolutely. “Saturday Night” is fun and, more importantly, manages to be so without lazily repurposing iconic SNL bits for comedy. Sometimes, it feels like a cop-out to say a movie is just “fun” and nothing more, but that is precisely the case here. “Saturday Night” is a funny and well-acted piece of entertainment, best enjoyed on a Saturday night.

The post “SATURDAY NIGHT” appeared first on Next Best Picture.

Plot Synopsis: At 11:30pm on October 11, 1975, a ferocious troupe of young comedians and writers changed television – and culture – forever. Directed by Jason Reitman and written by Gil Kenan & Reitman, Saturday Night is based on the true story of what happened behind the scenes in the 90 minutes leading up to the first broadcast of Saturday Night Live. Full of humor, chaos, and the magic of a revolution that almost wasn’t, we count down the minutes in real time until we hear those famous words…

What do you all think of the trailer? I loved this. This is very much in my wheelhouse calling back to films I very much enjoyed such as “Birdman” or “Steve Jobs.” It’s the kind of chaotic energy that makes it feel like Aaron Sorkin penned it, even though he did not. The ensemble is filled with so many talented performers that it’s hard to keep track, but with a fall film festival run planned, it’s looking highly likely this will be one of Jason Reitman’s better efforts in recent years and a wonderful showcase for Gabriel LaBelle following “The Fabelmans” and Cooper Hoffman following “Licorice Pizza.” I wish we could’ve seen more of Rachel Sennott since I believe she is one of the most exciting young performers we have today as well but with a cast this large, not everyone was going to get a chance to shine in under 2.5 minutes. The screenplay has the same foul-mouthed, quick-witted, chaotic messiness of Robert Altman or Paddy Chayefsky, which is also very much up my ally. Obviously, we’ll have to wait and see how this all plays out in terms of awards (Reitman’s “The Front Runner” also had a fall film festival launching pad and fizzled out pretty quickly). Still, with the film taking place in real-time, we can expect this one to be highly impressive on a technical level in all the best ways. What do you all think, though? Do you believe this will be an Oscar player for Sony Pictures Releasing? Which film festival do you think it will have its world premiere at? Please share your thoughts in the comments section below or on our X account.

The post Trailer – “Saturday Night” appeared first on Next Best Picture.

THE CAST – Rachel Sennott, Olga Petsa, Jason Jones, Sabrina Jalees, Caleb Hearon & Dani Kind

THE TEAM – Ally Pankiw (Director/Writer)

THE RUNNING TIME – 105 Minutes

Rachel Sennott has developed a unique comedic persona in a short period of time. She’s dry and witty, but the dryness seemingly emanates from an exasperation with the world around her. She’s not above it all; she’s worn down by it all. Sennott’s performances in “Shiva Baby” and “Bottoms” are calibrated to the specific demands of their respective films. Still, they’re unified by the nagging feeling that her characters have been through the wringer. “I Used to Be Funny” takes this feeling, this subtextual implication, and makes it the core text.

The film unfolds in two distinct timelines. One sees Sam Cowell (Sennott) as a perky and outgoing comedian who moonlights as a babysitter. The other picks up with Sam years later, and she’s retired from comedy and suffering from PTSD. The correlation between the two timelines is evident from the word go, with the former building towards and the latter unpacking the traumatic event that forged Sam’s PTSD in the first place. It’s a structurally effective, if not entirely original, way to tell a story, especially when considering how Sennott effectively splits her screen persona into distinct “before” and “after” stages.

The actress is in familiar territory during the first timeline, brandishing her charisma and real-life stand-up chops during scenes in which Sam performs. She’s affable and confident in her professional future, and she quickly develops a bond with Brooke (Olga Petsa), the teenager she’s been hired to babysit. The sisterly connection they develop serves as the emotional thrust for the second timeline, in which Brooke has gone missing, and a nearly-bedridden Sam decides to look for her.

There’s a lot to appreciate about “I Used to Be Funny,” and unsurprisingly, Sennott is at the top of the list. The actress pushes her dramatic chops further than ever before and proves she can deliver. Sam’s strained dynamic with Brooke’s father, Cameron (Jason Jones), is where most of the film’s trauma stems from, and without giving spoilers away, Sennott’s ability to convey the discomfort, uncertainty, and overwhelming insecurity of her character’s traumatic incident without having to rely on dialogue is what allows the film to be as effective as it is. Few actresses could convincingly run the gamut from this harrowing encounter to joking about “Twilight,” but that’s precisely what she does here.

Ally Pankiw’s direction is appropriately subdued during the Sam-centric scenes, but she fails to evoke the urgency that the Brooke subplot demands, given how big a part it plays in the film’s final act. Situations and exchanges that should be generating tension, or at least fear for the well-being of the main characters, are repeatedly undercut by Pankiw’s serviceable staging and a desire to work jokes into opportune moments. “I Used to Be Funny” is, fittingly, very funny at times, but the film would have benefited from a willingness to play certain dramatic moments straight.

There’s a self-conscious, self-deprecating bent to Sam’s character that suits both the story and the actress playing her, but when these same tendencies are applied to the film itself, it hampers the overall viewing experience. It’s the same frequency that’s informed the last decade of prestige dramedy TV, as evidenced by “Hacks,” “I May Destroy You,” and “Fleabag.” Still, these stories have broader canvases on which to examine and, in most cases, comment on the detriments of this interjecting self-awareness.”

“I Used to Be Funny” tries to ride this wave and gets decently far on the strength of its compelling lead performance. However, it lacks the runtime to explore its own self-deprecating crutches, which simply leaves them as crutches. The ending of “I Used to Be Funny” is sweet, given the dire circumstances in which it occurs. I just wish the film was more confident in its dramatic side to deliver on the promise of its diptych premise.

The post “I USED TO BE FUNNY” appeared first on Next Best Picture.

THE CAST – Lily James, Rebecca Antonaci, Joe Keery, Rachel Sennott, Alba Rohrwacher & Willem Dafoe

THE TEAM – Saverio Costanzo (Director/Writer)
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THE RUNNING TIME – 142 Minutes

It can be an invigorating experience being able to witness the leisurely passing of a group of people. These excursions don’t always need to have a specific plot to follow. For many of them, all it takes is a loose plot to hang around a few individuals. It’s merely a jumping-off point for a further exploration of a rich tapestry of commentary. However, it is vitally important to make the subjects themselves inviting. These are stories that live and die by their characters, and without a compelling core, these efforts are hardly successful. Such is the case with “Finally Dawn,” a genuinely laborious journey meant to be an illumination of self-discovery that really just ends up being a dour examination.

In 1950s Italy, young Mimosa (Rebecca Antonaci) lives a modest life with her family. She dreams of grander things in life but is content with the reality that she will live a meager lifestyle, already engaged to an uninspiring man her family approves of, but she does not love. On a chance encounter at the cinema, her sister is approached by a man claiming he can get her cast as an extra in a new film. Her sister accepts the invitation, and Mimosa joins along to try out as well. This sets her down a path that takes her into the world of famous actors. Josephine Esperanto (Lily James) and Sean Lockwood (Joe Kerry) are starring in the picture, and they guide her through a tumultuous world of excess, vanity, and deceit. Over the course of a single night, Mimosa comes to learn the true meaning behind this decadence and where her own power lies.

There seems to be an attempt from writer-director Saverio Costanzo to slowly unfold this narrative in a manner that reveals new twists and turns. It’s meant to be an evolving odyssey that opens new doors to this menagerie. However, there is a specific element that is desperately missing from the piece: momentum. The film makes a point not to have much of a plot to push the narrative forward, which is a perfectly valid form of storytelling. Yet here, there is very little that actually engages with the personal connections made throughout the runtime. Mimosa is meant to enter this night as meek and self-conscious and eventually come to a greater understanding of her self-worth. The problem is that every interaction she has feels completely hollow. Their randomness comes across as more careless construction rather than specifically designed chaos. It all becomes a laborious enterprise, tedious beyond imagination.

Tedium is one thing, but it’s quite another to force this story to inhabit so much self-importance without ever truly earning it. Every scene is just an exercise in the shallow intellectual capacity this story holds. It lingers on moments with great anticipation, imagining that the looks in the actors’ eyes will be enough to convey its themes. The truth is, it’s nowhere near enough. These characters are all shallow, and not only in the sense of their displayed opulence. These are utterly flat depictions of people with very little nuance. As the film demands nearly two-and-a-half hours to sit with these bland personalities, a revolt in the mind starts to occur. There’s not enough here to justify such a lengthy analysis. Every new venture that is introduced hardly comments any meaningful gesture of such utterly boring caricatures.

To her credit, Antonaci is a well-placed anchor for one to admire. She captures the naivety in a believable manner that makes for one of the few genuine aspects that creates some kind of emotional resonance. It’s a shame that her arc is not earned at all, and she’s forced to endure such terribly conceived scenes. The only other performer who makes it out with some dignity is Willem Dafoe as, a caring chauffeur, the only one who seems concerned about Mimosa’s well-being, and he has an endearing turn. It is unfortunate to see Kerry and James reduced to playing such badly executed archetypes, especially the latter. While Kerry is mostly bland and anonymous, James’s portrayal doesn’t give off an ounce of authenticity. The character is meant to be boastful and performative, but her performance signals more of a surface-level reading that lacks any nuance. It’s a shame because these are talented actors, but this is not their finest moment.

One could make the joke that by the time “Finally Dawn” ends, the sigh of relief is “finally over.” The film is just such an excruciatingly tiresome effort. The thematic commentary it aims to dissect is not captivating in the slightest, and the performances range from adequate to completely inauthentic. There’s even a problem with the score, one that casually switches back from being inspired by classic cinema to modern synth-pop compositions. It’s yet another odd facet to a film that challenges you to retain attention and interest. It wants to create a deeply felt character drama, but completely forgets the character and the drama.

The post “FINALLY DAWN” appeared first on Next Best Picture.

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The post The Next Best Picture Podcast – “Bottoms” appeared first on Next Best Picture.

THE CAST – Rachel Sennott, Ayo Edebiri, Ruby Cruz, Havana Rose Liu, Kaia Gerber, Nicholas Galitzine, Miles Fowler, Marshawn Lynch, Dagmara Dominiczyk & Punkie Johnson

THE TEAM – Emma Seligman (Director/Writer) & Rachel Sennott (Writer)
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THE RUNNING TIME – 92 Minutes

Ah, the high school comedy! A staple of American cinema, these films tend to become generational touchstones in the way many other types of films don’t because they have to perfectly capture the culture of the moment in which they’re made in order to play to their target audience. These are the films we see and quote with our friends all the time when they get released and then rewatch for decades. We may age, but the films never do, and while with enough time and distance, we can cringe-laugh at elements of them (the fashions, the slang, the fact that we ever thought that these people looked like high schoolers), the best ones have a timeless quality to them because they capture something universally true about being a teenager, the worst, most confusing time in nearly everyone’s life.

Enter Emma Seligman’s “Bottoms.” Sure, you could talk about how the film (co-written with “Shiva Baby” collaborator and star Rachel Sennott) is a love letter to the losers, the outcasts, the people who don’t fit in with any clique in high school for no reason other than that they are so unsure of themselves that they don’t know how to act otherwise – the people on the bottom of the high school food chain. You could talk about how the film excoriates our culture’s obsession with sports and winning at all costs. You could talk about how the film flips the genre on its head by giving the horndog roles traditionally associated with men (“Porky’s” & “Superbad”) to queer women. But really, “Bottoms” will live forever as people’s favorite movie because it’s just plain funny. Really, really funny. Gut-bustingly funny. So funny that you’ll miss a lot of jokes because of the laughter. So funny that you’ll find some new hilarious detail every time you watch it. It is funny in every way that a film can be funny, with visual gags covering every corner of the frame, scalpel-sharp social satire, a parody of other high school comedies, raucous gross-out humor, remarkable physical comedy, cringe comedy, witty wordplay… it’s all there, wrapped up in an unforgettable story that pushes the boundaries of teen comedy farther than you might have thought possible.

“Bottoms” follows best friends PJ (Sennott) and Josie (Ayo Edebiri), who are just starting their senior year of high school. PJ, the more confident of the two, has declared that this will be the year they finally make out with the popular hot cheerleaders they have crushes on, and eventually stumbles into a plan to make it happen: The two will lead an after-school self-defense/women’s empowerment club in which the members will learn from each other how to both throw a punch and take one. Essentially, high school fight club. While at first, PJ laments that the only girls who joined were sixes at best, a misunderstanding about PJ and Josie spending the summer in juvenile detention gets blown out of proportion through the high school rumor mill. Eventually, their crushes join the club, too. Will either of them actually hook up with their crush? Will they be able to teach the club members enough self-defense techniques to protect themselves from the rival school football team that is apparently terrorizing young women all over town?

Even that plot description doesn’t do the film justice. Seligman and Sennott’s screenplay goes to some truly bizarre places, sometimes pushing the satire and parody so far that it gives the film a surreal quality. The club holds a fundraiser car wash/used panties sale. The male history teacher who ends up advising the club (a hilarious Marshawn Lynch) tells his class to reenact the Treaty of Versailles while he reads a porno mag to help himself move past his divorce. The football players are always wearing their uniforms but never seem to actually play football, with the standard-issue hunk of a quarterback far more concerned about his popularity and his dick than about the game. The film’s production design is genius, lining the school hallways with posters satirizing the sexualization of athletes (the team’s main slogan is seemingly “GET HORNY”) and advertising some ridiculous school clubs and events. Nearly every square inch of the frame is packed with jokes, from those posters to some irreverent action happening in the background.

The film is so densely funny that it can be overwhelming at times, but when the hilarity takes a brief rest to let us have a touching moment with the girls, it lands due to Seligman’s brilliant direction and the heart of the performers. Former sketch comedy partners Sennott and Edebiri have fantastic chemistry and are sharp comediennes, but they’re sensitive actors, too, and the moments when PJ and Josie have to drop the facade and get real with themselves, each other and their new friends hit home because they know how to let those moments breathe. Each cast member is hilarious in their own way, and they work strongly together as a true ensemble, building relationships with each other that feel deeply real.

All of this would mean little without a solid directorial hand, and Seligman is more than up to the task. Her tight control of tone ensures that even when the plot goes off the rails, the film itself stays firmly on track, never succumbing to its too-muchness. “Bottoms” has a lot more on its mind than what you might expect, and that’s great, but it goes about saying what it wants to communicate with its tongue firmly in its cheek all the way through. Seligman essentially explodes the high school comedy from the inside out, keeping the traditional genre outline but coloring inside that outline so wildly and with such bright colors that it almost becomes something else. Delectably raunchy, defiantly queer, and most of all deliriously funny, “Bottoms” is a new high school comedy classic.

The post “BOTTOMS” appeared first on Next Best Picture.