Oh, Hi! ** [Premieres]
It’s kind of sad when the whole vibe of a movie suggests the idea that it’s clever and edgy, but instead it plays out as depressingly retrograde, and that’s kind of what you get in writer/director Sophie Brooks’ attempt at romantic farce. After an ominous prologue, we flash back 33 hours to young couple Iris (Molly Gordon) and Isaac (Logan Lerman) taking a weekend getaway to upstate New York, where all seems blissful and cozy for a while—until an argument over the future of their relationship sends things in increasingly awkward directions. Brooks does find a few solid gags, with a different energy provided when Geraldine Viswanathan and John Reynolds turn up as a pair of Iris’s friends. But the core of the narrative is supposed to be the tension between Isaac and Iris’s conflicting ideas about commitment, one that casts the guy as someone unwilling to be tied down (literally and figuratively), and the woman as someone crazily in need of her partner to want to be with her. And it’s hard for any amount of weird shenanigans to move beyond how simplistic a divide that is, or to make the late attempts to get earnest about it feel anything but forced. The result is a sporadically amusing attempt to make the edgiest sex comedy of 1974.

Bunnylovr ** [U.S. Dramatic]
Near the end of writer/director/star Katarina Zhu’s drama, there’s a fascinating scene suggesting an honest exploration of how we deal with the various weird and not-always-socially-acceptable things that get us off—and I just wish the 80 minutes that preceded it felt like they earned that payoff. It’s the tale of a young woman named Becca (Zhu) who moonlights as a porn-site camgirl, where she meets one particular anonymous patron (Austin Amelio) who seems willing to pay top dollar to indulge in some very particular fetishes. Things to get predictably creepy along the way, but there’s also material involving Becca’s tentative reconnection with her estranged father (Perry Yung), her unhealthy relationship with an ex-boyfriend and her general flightiness, all of which seem to be connected but end up feeling like individual threads rather than a full piece of fabric. And while Zhu’s performance evokes a difficulty finding real connection beyond her many online “fans,” the character is too sketchily drawn for her to be any better known to us than she is to them. It’s frustrating that Bunnylovr seems willing to dip a toe into the idea of fetish sexuality without actually being willing to dive into the deep end, so that it ends up playing like the safe, respectable version of a genuinely unsettling psychological thriller.

OBEX **1/2 [NEXT]
I’m not sure it’s a particularly radical notion to make a movie suggesting that we live too much of our lives virtually, but I guess we can at least thank writer/director/star Albert Birney for offering that idea with some formal playfulness. In a story set in 1987, Birney plays Conor Marsh, a man who spends his entire life locked away from reality: watching movies and news on a tower of three TVs; working out of his house creating commissioned ASCII portraits for a mail-order business; even having a neighbor bring him his groceries so he doesn’t have to go outside. Then he sends away for an innovative computer role-playing called OBEX, and Conor suddenly finds himself on a quest within the world of the game to save his beloved pet dog. Birney embraces a super-low-fi aesthetic with black-and-white cinematography, primitive visual effects and props (like a giant combination lock) that look like they could have been created for a high-school play. It’s fun for a while to enjoy the old-school vibe, and consider the early adapters of screen addiction, but the story ultimately feels pretty psychologically simplistic—Conor has some parental issues to sort through—while a time-frame emphasizing a 17-year cicada emergence allows for an intriguing background drone, but might be a forced metaphor. The result is a moderately entertaining retro fantasy that doesn’t have a lot more to say than “touch grass every once in a while” (or, in this particular case, “touch sand”).

Sugar Babies *** [U.S. Documentary]
Director Rachel Fleit’s four-year chronicle of youth in Ruston, La. starts as a profile of Millennial gig-economy hustle, but evolves into something more complex that incorporates both cycles of poverty and the way the bonds of community can also be weights that drag you down. At the center is Autumn Johnson, a Louisiana Tech University student who finances her education by getting male benefactors to pay her for entirely non-sexual, entirely online interactions, and subsequently also becomes an influencer teaching other young women her tricks of the trade. Some of the most fascinating material involves hearing Autumn describe her tactics, and she remains a lively, compelling protagonist throughout, even as Fleit also touches on other characters like Autumn’s younger sister, her pregnant best friend and her longtime boyfriend. The trickier material comes when Fleit links Autumn’s avocation to Louisiana’s still-$7.25-an-hour minimum wage, and how the expressed desire of young people to get out for something better clashes with the connections of friends and family. The result feels like a recognition that cycles of poverty can be connected to cycles of mutual support—multi-generational families staying in the same place because of teenage parenthood—that Fleit doesn’t have quite enough time to explore in full. It’s both a compliment and a criticism that Sugar Babies left me feeling like there’s even more to this story.

Middletown *** [Premieres]
Middletown—from directors Jesse Moss and Amanda McBaine (Girls State, Boys State)—takes viewers on an emotional, inspiring trip back to the early 1990s. What starts as a fun high school elective, Electronic English, becomes a profound journalistic investigation when a group of teenagers in upstate New York uncover a conspiracy involving toxic waste, organized crime and political corruption. Guided by their unconventional teacher, Fred Isseks, these resourceful students take on a multiyear project that leads to real-world impacts and transforms their lives forever. Through their determination and collaboration, the students learn about journalism and become active participants in unmasking the truth, and the documentary captures their investigative process, from poring over public records to tracking down leads and confronting powerful figures. Along the way, the film explores the complex dynamics of their small town and the significant obstacles they face, including intimidation and immense pressure to abandon their work. Despite these challenges, their commitment to exposing corruption becomes a courageous act of accountability and civic engagement. The film captures the era before smartphones and social media, highlighting the power of investigative journalism and the lasting importance of inspiring educators. Middletown is a thought-provoking celebration of youth empowerment, civic engagement and the pursuit of truth. (Aimee L. Cook)