Cortlyn Kelly

Director and producer Robert Sarkies uses interesting, sometimes surreal, scenic transitions. So crisp and entrancing, these shots are artful, aesthetically pleasing, and even contemplative, but the color grading blankets the film with a drab tone. Yet the magnetic chemistry between Lynskey and Malcom, complemented by the lived-in, authentic costuming and production design bolster the movie overall.

This exploration of the unfiltered self leads us to the deepest crevices. Just like in astrophysics, it’s unclear where this black hole will lead us, or if we will ever be able to come back.

Goldberg acknowledges that the film’s power is in its exclusive cast sharing their personal experiences. But his film fails to realize that it, too, is a player in platforming an already undefeated beast.

Despite its flaws, Dear Ms.: A Revolution in Print reminds us that authenticity is essential in acquiring and retaining acceptance and relevance, a message we need to hear now more than ever.

A slow build of suspense steadies the pacing, allowing the audience to piece together the puzzle alongside the characters.

The 95-minute runtime also aids the dramedy’s success: Short, silly, and sweet, the perfect recipe for audience satisfaction.

It’s a story we’ve heard many times, but it always feels triumphant, similar to Marcella’s approach to cooking: it’s “very simple but not easy.”

This disaster can’t be waved off as shallow escapism because “Tyler Perry’s Duplicity” fails on that level too, possibly keeping bored people engaged enough to follow its mystery but never really entertained.