đ Reviewing: My Old Ass (2024)
But no more, if you let me inside of your world
There'll be one less lonely girl
If you could meet your older self, what would you ask? And if you had the chance to change your life, would you? These are the questions at the heart of the upcoming film My Old Ass, where 18-year-old Elliott confronts these profound dilemmas during a mind-bending mushroom trip with friends. As the trip takes an unexpected turn, Elliott comes face-to-face with her 39-year-old self, setting off a journey that could easily drift into high-concept sci-fi or cheesy camp.
But this film resists those paths, opting instead for a grounded, authentic exploration of youth, mortality, and sexuality. Elliott's experience becomes a poignant reflection on the transformation between what she thought she knew about herself, who she is now, and who she might become. This theme resonated even more as I watched it in a packed theater on the opening night of CinemaQ, Denverâs queer film festival.
As the credits rolled, I couldnât help but think, âI wish I wrote that.â The script is genuine, sharp, and funny AF, blending witty dialogue with an insightful narrative. But My Old Ass is more than just a coming-of-age dramedy; itâs a heartfelt reflection on the boldness of youth and the wisdom that only time can bring. Itâs young, reckless, a surprise, and a delight.
If you could meet your older selfâif you had the power to change your lifeâwould you? We learn from experience, not advice. Instead of fixating on "Whatâs next?" maybe the real question is, "What now?" because time doesnât waitâit rushes by until, before you know it, youâre an old ass. My Old Ass will have a limited theatrical release on September 13.
đ Reviewing: DĂŹdi (2024)
But can we fake it? Can we make believe?
I'm so full of love, it deeply sickens me
In middle school, my nickname was "Opie." It sounds cool at firstâuntil you realize itâs short for Ethiopian. The thing is, I grew up in Butler, PA, home of the Bantam Jeep, a 98% white population, and the recent Trump assassination attempt. As a tan-skinned kid, I stood out. When I tried to correct the bullies by telling them I wasnât Ethiopian but Thai, they demanded I speak Taiwanese to prove it. When I tried to correct them again, well⊠I decided to find solace and safety in things like emo and pop-punk music, skateboarding, and art.
I lovedâand still loveâbands like Hellogoodbye and The Starting Line. My AIM screen name was âhiddencinema,â I discovered synthesizers through Motion City Soundtrack, blacked out the pink tag on my stepsisterâs hand-me-down Keds with a Sharpie, spent summers getting skate âclipsâ with the few friends I had, agonized over my MySpace Top 8, and made plenty of cringe-worthy decisions just to look cool in front of my crushes.
So when I saw DĂŹdi, a film about an impressionable and bullied 13-year-old Taiwanese American in 2008 who went through nearly the same experiencesâeven down to the music and clothesâit hit me. Iâve never felt so seen by a film before. Itâs about feeling torn between your Asian identity and being "just half," deciding whether to go by your given name or embrace a nickname, and the awkwardness, loneliness, and sense of being an outcast and a phony while also discovering who you really are.
In DĂŹdi, Chris, or "Wang Wang," learns how to skate, flirt, and love his family. But ultimately, he discovers itâs much harder to pretend to be something youâre not and far more rewarding to embrace who you truly are. This film reminded me that twenty years later, Iâm still learning to embrace my true selfâand it reminded me to love those who accept me, even if they donât understand me. DĂŹdi is currently in theaters.
đŁ Film Screening: Join or Die (2023)
In a world of increasing individualism, we must find ways to rebuild the social ties that once held us together.
For the past few months, Iâve been helping to develop The Company, a membership-supported third place designed for meeting, gathering, celebrating, and fostering community. My involvement stems from a deep belief in the power of intentional community-building because I understand that deep relationships donât just happenâtheyâre constructed. While the benefits of community are obvious, it wasnât until I watched the documentary Join or Die that I understood the social, financial, and political impacts.
Join or Die, inspired by Robert Putnam's book Bowling Alone, examines the state of community in America. The film explores three crucial civic questions: What makes democracy work? Why is American democracy in crisis? And what can we do to address it?
Join or Die is creative, engaging, and educational, making a compelling case for why you should join a clubâand why the future of America might depend on it. We believe in this filmâs message and are thrilled that The Company will host Denverâs only screening of this film on September 3rd. Tickets are available for purchase here. Join us. Or die.
Thanks for being here.
â Justin