Mike D'Angelo

It’s not a documentary that reinvents the form or will alter anyone’s perception of the war, but sometimes a rich, exhaustive chronicle is more than enough.

Kelly & Cal is worth seeing, if only because it gives Lewis her first truly meaty role in years.

Only those looking to have their bleak worldview painfully confirmed will find this exercise in masochism fulfilling.

Directors Richard Glatzer and Wash Westmoreland (The Fluffer, Quinceañera) do their best to avoid sensationalism, but age difference and statutory rape are the only factors that make the story remotely interesting.

It’s a folly of the first order, but one that many people will nonetheless want to see, if only because it’s so out there.

The ending is intended to be ambiguous, but it’s not too hard to guess what happened in advance, as it’s the only dramatically satisfying option. What’s no longer at all certain is what it means.

Writer-director Catherine Breillat who adapted the film from her own roman à clef, seems content to let the story stand on its own two feet, as if it were something that she’d invented from whole cloth rather than experienced. It’s a laudable approach, in theory, but it backfires a bit in this particular instance, because what occurs is so psychologically inexplicable that Breillat’s alter ego comes across as terminally foolish.

May In The Summer just never distinguishes itself in any way that isn’t superficial.

In the end, it’s Salvo itself that’s murky and obscure.

It works reasonably well as a film, too, though, provided that one isn’t overly bothered by repetition and a general sense of diminishing returns.

Enjoy the wordplay in the title, because that’s as witty as the horror comedy Life After Beth ever gets.

There isn’t much to it, really, but a little truth and loveliness is always welcome.