Concepción de León

The documentary offers only what the poet is willing to give.

In peddling the mythical American dream narrative, the film misses an opportunity for conflict or character development and falls short of delving into bigger, more interesting themes: assimilation, immigration, gender roles, family conflict.

There are some laughs and the cast is talented, but the movie ultimately falls flat, missing an opportunity to delve into the insecurity, teen bravado and anger that leads to physical fighting in the first place.

Had the film leaned more intentionally into the interior lives of its characters rather than positioning itself as a thriller, it may have been a more satisfying watch.

The story feels too self-contained and the characters too one-note, which, despite the merits of the subject, makes it hard to feel immersed in their world.

Had it included more current images of the region and the realities of the Navajo people, it may have been more effective in replacing these myths, going beyond film analysis to altering imagination.

Though the concept is promising, and some moments are tender, one wishes the film had delved deeper into the chupacabra myth and the characters’ stories to make for a more satisfying watch.

The relationship between Montana and the kids is a highlight, as are some of the other secondary relationships. And though the film is as predictable and saccharine as one might expect of holiday fare, viewers who grew up in the Black church may enjoy seeing a relatable and chaste romantic story on-screen.

It’s a quiet film that stays close to the central characters, but it could have benefited from broadening its view, giving context to some of the issues presented in the film — in particular how Blackness is perceived and experienced on the island.

The film, directed by Laura Santullo and Rodrigo Plá, ultimately falls flat, with unconvincing dialogue and a strained delivery by the actors.

Though Booker’s story and success are inspiring, the documentary falls flat, feeling more like a political tool than a commentary on the state of politics in Kentucky.

If only the film had taken a broader view, filling in more details about the lives and motivations of the truck drivers as well as the sex traffickers.

There is, perhaps, an argument to be made for representing a time and place truthfully, but because the film does not critically engage with the uglier elements of the society it portrays, these become a distraction. And a viewer might find it difficult to get sucked into the love and music story at its center.

Cech is believable as a troubled teenager, and it’s refreshing to see an Asian American girl as a protagonist, but the film has a limited emotional range, jumping among several plot elements without fully fleshing them out.

The characters, despite their histrionic representation of the wealthy class, are not compelling enough to carry the movie, nor are the horrors of the outside world fleshed out enough to frighten.

Though Nestor’s understated performance is powerful at times, one leaves the film not fully satisfied, wanting for a stronger arc.

In presenting a female character who is attractive, but bereft of substance, the movie subverts its own premise.

It’s arguable that Celina’s emotional distance is a true reflection of how working class women manage their feelings in order to cope. But it could be dissatisfying to a viewer craving to see women’s interior lives; their pain rather than their resilience.