Parasitic and parasocial, Red Rooms is a bleak and gnarly descent into voyeuristic obsession. Truly unnerving, capturing the unknowability of evil. 

Chaotic, intractable, and incapable of looking away. Feeling unwell.

Anatomy of a …?

Of walking a fine line between innocent joy, love and transactional fulfillment. Gritty and silly - sad, abstruse and electric. Charged with that flashy yet genuine disposability that lures you in to break you open. Sean Baker hits the mark again.

Posh Victoria.
Mundane Euphoria.

Those pixelated memories. Selective memory and your therapist ChatGPT.

Goofy over intriguing.

What the hell, Megan Park. That's your debut?

You had me bawling and smiling through those moments. Tackling trauma in such an uplifting way without romanticising it. Light-hearted while heavy and not afraid to embrace both. It made me feel so much. Made me laugh, cry, feel scared, feel thrilled, smile. And understand so much. Touching those nuances what it means or not means to heal, or to handle.

Beauty in the slightest movements. Stabbed my heart deep in how it showed the relationships, family, friendships. Real, raw.

Jenna Ortega and Lumi Pollack.
Megan Park.

I'm having a really hard time moving on.

Overly underwhelming. Made for 38 year-olds that long to be 20. A perception of cute and quirky that wants to be loved, not to expose. Featuring a runtime that even bores its fans, misogyny and racist jokes - but only slightly so we can play them off as self-aware while being the same old, same old.

A fine movie for the 90s, today just obsolete - but it will give many people the warm feeling of their own self-exaltation of adolescence.

Celebrated by arthouse lovers.
38 year-olds.
(I'm unfair - but yes)