Photo by KuttnerPix

In fact, it would not be wrong to describe “Gore Vidal: The United States of Amnesia” as a comedy. Although Gore Vidal is one of the most respected and prolific American writers, it is his ability to get to the truth of any subject or person with a one-liner that hits its target like an arrow at high velocity. In a way, it unfortunate that Vidal will not be remembered as much for his tremendous work interpreting American history, in tremendous novels such as Burr and Lincoln. It will not be as much for his ground breaking works on homosexuality and alternative lifestyles, such as “The City and the Pillar” and “Myra Breckinridge” (made into an intentionally campy, but unintentionally hilarious movie starring Raquel Welch). For all this, he would have deserved a Nobel Prize. Like Oscar Wilde, Gore Vidal will instead be remembered for his caustic wit, often directed at rivals such as William F. Buckley and Norman Mailer.

Unlike Wilde, Vidal leaves behind a trail of film clips that will outlive him and outlive his more important work. It is this source of recorded hilarious sarcasm and biting remarks that Mr. Wrathall’s film taps into and uses to keep the story flowing and entertaining, to our delight. Surprisingly, the film is visually stunning. From sepia toned photographs of Vidal’s early life and tragic first love, to magnificent views of his Italian villa on the Amalfi Coast, there are enviable and breathtaking shots.

Oddly missing from this film is any of the juicy gossip about his relationship with Jacqueline Bouvier, who was his step sister by marriage. Vidal’s friendship and opinion of JFK is touched on, but the film does not go into the family relationship, other than to mention his and Jackie’s mutual stepfather, Hugh D. Auchincloss. Nor is it mentioned that Vidal was once physically thrown out of the White House. But all of those are minor details. The essence of Gore Vidal has been captured, thanks to the ubiquitous camera and numerous appearances on talk shows like Johnny Carson and Dick Cavett.

The title of the documentary comes from Gore Vidal’s assertion that, in our political judgments, Americans tend to be very forgetful. I’m afraid the word “amnesia” may also apply to his more serious and profound work. However, there are certain Vidal truthful statements that have been recorded and will live on forever. And we are grateful for that.

No matter how you may feel about Gore Vidal’s politics or philosophy, you cannot help but wish you had known him. If you shared his philosophy, it is a life you wish you had lived.

While “G.B.F.” is essentially the lovechild of “Juno,” “Saved,” and “Mean Girls,” it exceeded my expectations in a big way. I knew going into the theatre that “G.B.F.” is a comedy designed for teens. Now, that’s not to say that the jokes won’t fly with an older crowd, but the overwhelming usage of “totes” and “amazeballs” may be particularly grating if you’re over the age of 20. However, keep in mind that it’s intentional. The entire film is comedy gold, mixing tongue-in-cheek humor with outlandish one-liners in an interesting and refreshing storyline. After being accidentally outed, lead male Tanner is chased by every popular girl in high school to secure the ultimate “accessory” – a G.B.F., or gay best friend.

The key here is that Tanner is not the sidekick, or the best friend: he is the central character. We see him go from being a nerdy comic book geek to a full-fledged popular boy, or a “plastic” for all you “Mean Girls” fans out there. Is the story similar to “Mean Girls?” Absolutely. But what makes the film stand out, is Tanner himself. Tanner experiences the discomfort of being outed as well as the process of self-discovery in a world where everyone is suddenly watching him. To a certain extent, many people within the LGBT community can relate, so about ten minutes in, the age barrier is shattered.

There is some sexual tension between Tanner and his closeted best friend Brent, and a good portion of the film centers on their relationship, trying to find the balance between friendship and romance. The chemistry between the two is hilarious, awkward and satisfying all at once. Brent’s mother, played by Megan Mullaly, had major comedic relief duty, but luckily, it didn’t feel forced. She wants Brent to come out to her so badly that she can’t help but make inappropriate, awkward sex jokes to get a reaction out of him. “Who’s got the poppers?” she asks in one scene.

The film, while juvenile and silly, was surprisingly quirky and funny, ala Diablo Cody’s screenplay for Juno. It features a great cast, with hilarious performances by Natasha Lyonne, Rebecca Gayheart, Evanna Lynch (best known for her role as Luna Lovegood in the Harry Potter films), and even a small role from singer JoJo.

For an independent comedy, “G.B.F.” is as good as they come. It leaves viewers with a smile on their face and a completely new vocabulary. What more can you ask for?

After 9/11, if you hadn’t known Mark, you knew of him. He was one of us. Perhaps it’s that vague connection that may have made “The Rugby Player,” Scott Gracheff’s documentary about Mark and his mother, Alice Hoagland, such an emotional film for me.

But then, anything having to do with 9/11 is still emotional for me. After the screening, I told Scott that “The Rugby Player” was the second saddest film I had ever seen, after “Tokyo Story.” Scott said he thought his film was more “uplifting.” It seems a contradiction, but he was right. A documentary about Mark Bingham just has to be uplifting because, by all accounts and in every scene, Mark is a force for everything that is good in life— at all times being positive and determined to be happy.

Mark lived his life with such an appetite, it’s almost as if he knew his time was limited. It surprised no one that Mark would step up to the plate to confront the terrorists who had hijacked his plane on 9/11 and eventually stop the plane from crashing into Washington, DC, their apparent destination.

“The Rugby Player” tells you everything you would want to know about Mark Bingham, and some things you don’t want to know. In the midst of this grand life is Mark’s mother, who is another inspiring story in her own right. In her determination to pursue Mark’s interest in gay rights, she has become the great ally we now know and love.

If there is any criticism of the film, it is that the pace is a bit monotonous. But it is this engrossing aspect that makes the film ultimately so moving. Because, as the story progresses, you begin to realize the enormity of the loss.

This convoluted movie deals with two under-developed Australian boys (Mike and William) who fall in love, come to terms with their sexuality, and then complete an English assignment in which they must make the tragedy of Romeo and Juliet contemporary. Their version of the Shakespearean play revolves around The Wolfman and Frankenstein’s monster falling in love. William (the new student and more introspective boy) says, “Maybe The Wolfman wants to show Frankenstein his change so they can grow closer,”—a line that is by far the only original thing about the movie.

For one, mentioning Romeo and Juliet in a love story is a cliché. That assignment for an English class is also an cliché. As already stated, a coming-out story without any twist comes off clichéd. Seeing these two kiss in a swimming pool and then grow angry with each other rehashes concepts dealt with more profoundly in shows like Ugly Betty or even General Hospital.

To make matters worse, the pacing is stilted. The boys’ love for each other does not grow slowly or quickly but slowly then quickly then slowly then quickly. When William freaks out after the aforementioned swimming pool kiss, it takes him all but thirty minutes to admit he liked it, and then all of a sudden they’re dating. Character motivation and psychological development seem taken from a What Happens to Gay Kids Book for Dummies.

An ending twist involving the destiny of William is the ultimate audience insult. Without any type of strong motivation and at a seemingly peaceful moment in his life, William makes an ill-advised fateful decision meant to elicit tears from the audience (though I didn’t hear a single sniffle). Emotional manipulation and slip-shod plotting destroy an unoriginal film that had no reason being made in the first place.

Women’s music legend Tret Fure is now in her fifth decade as a recording artist. At her most prolific in the 21st century, Fure has released half a dozen discs since 2001, the latest being “A Piece of The Sky” (Tomboy Girl). She uncovers the mysteries of our bodies, souls and hearts on the title cut and makes an unexpected (and lovely) reference to “Somewhere Over Rainbow” in “Bluebird,” a song about giving love another chance. “The Zen of Being” brings a whole new perspective to calendars and the march of time. “Bucket of Tears” is the tearjerker its title implies. The bouncy “The Artist Way” is the kind of personal career statement that only Fure could make and “My Best” is the result of speculation one can make having lived a full and creative life. To close the disc, Fure digs into her personal record crates with “That Side of the Moon,” a song that originally appeared on her 1984 album, Terminal Hold.

Like Kane and Fure, out singer/songwriter Michelle Malone has been all over the record label map, even recording for Arista (the Lenny Kaye-produced “Relentless”), as well as Walter Yetnikoff’s Velvel (“Beneath The Devil Moon”) and Amy Ray’s Daemon. “Day 2,” released on her own SBS (Strange Bird Songs) label, co-produced by fellow Georgia native Shawn Mullins (of “Lullaby” fame) and Gerry Hansen, finds Malone going deeper into her Southern roots. On “Other Girls,” Malone conjures Lucinda Williams at her most raucous. She proudly displays her political side on “Immigration Game” and then gets personal on the smoldering “Marlboro Man” and the heavenly “St. Peter.” “The Auditor” and “Wasted On You” are proof that Malone has maintained her sense of humor after all these years.

Made in L.A., and produced by Dave Sitek (of TV on the Radio), “Planta” (SQE Music) is the newest album by queer, all-female, Brazilian dance outfit CSS. It won’t take long to grow on listeners. The sticky “Honey” gets things off to a sweet(heart) start. “Hangover” is drunk on hip-hop and the radiant “Into The Sun” burns so good. CSS goes “crazy” on the explosive “Dynamite” and “Too Hot” more than lives up to its title. “The Hangout” borrows from the `80s, while “Teenage Tiger Cat” sounds like the future.

There’s only one thing wrong with the five-song “Name Game” EP by queer duo We Are/She Is. It’s too short, leaving listeners hanging, desperate to hear what else the pair is capable of doing. No one likes to be teased (or to be called a tease), but if that’s what We Are/She Is intended to do, they have succeeded. It’s safe to say that with only five songs, there’s not a clunker to be found. As exhilarating as the best pop music can be, the delirious anthem “And The World” sets the pace with its fist-pumping energy. “Voices” are the kind you won’t mind having in your heard and “Ricochet” will keep you bouncing off the walls.

There’s nothing remotely resembling the sophomore slump on lesbian singer/songwriter Julia Weldon’s awesome second disc “Light Is A Ghost (juliaweldon.com). An exceptional songwriter and musician, Weldon offers new hope for the next generation of queer female performers, writing with a maturity that belies her youth. It’s hard not be effusive after listening (repeatedly) to songs such as “Meadow,” “Went To My Woman,” “Careful In The Dark,” “You Never Know” and “Soon.” Julia Weldon, who doesn’t shy away from queer subject matter in her songs (the amazing “All I Gave Her” and “All The Birds”), is an artist with whom you will want to become well- acquainted; the sooner the better.

Arriving just in time for Passover, Ruben can sense the rather large black cloud hovering over everything: his nephew Gabriel, his relentless mother Rachel  (Almodovar regular Carmen Maura), his unfaithful father Nathan (Jean-François  Stévenin), his sister Irene’s (Amira Casar) marriage to gentile Herve (Charlie  Dupont) and even his own difficulty sleeping. Things become even more complicated when elderly, widowed lawyer Goldberg (Jean-Luc Bideau) becomes enamored with Ruben. As Ruben puts it, his life has become “one bad Jewish joke.”

Back in Finland, Teemu learns the truth about the suspicious stash of cash. He hops on a plane to Paris to make amends with Ruben, but unfortunately, he’s about to make an appearance just as everything goes from bad to worse, including the arrest of Ruben, his brother Samuel (Clément Sibony) and Nathan. Lovesick Goldberg doesn’t help matters when he sends Teemu away. However, when Teemu  appears at the door on the night of the Seder, like a blonde Elijah, it’s clear  that Ruben’s days of suffering are over. I spoke with writer/director Mikael  Buch about the film in early 2013. (“Let My People Go!” is screening on Apr. 27 and May 5 as part of  the Miami Gay and Lesbian Film Festival. Visit mglff.com for more information.)

Gregg Shapiro: You  co-wrote the screenplay for “Let My People Go!” with Christophe Honoré. how did the two of you come to work together on  this project?

Mikael Buch: I met  Christophe when I was at film school. I went to the National Film School in France. When you do your final study project in school you have to choose a kind  of “godfather” tutor. I had just seen “Dans Paris”, one of his films, which I  love very much, so I asked him to be my tutor. We met like that. Since then I’ve  been working with him on some of his films. When the time came to write my film,  it felt natural to work with him because he was the person who knew me the best  and knew the kind of cinema I wanted to do.

GS: How much, if any, of you is in Ruben or Teemu?

MB: [Laughs] I  think I’m more of a Ruben than Teemu, that’s for sure. But I’m not really Ruben either. The identity setting is autobiographical, but the character itself is  imaginary. I think the character has a lot of things of me and a lot of the things of Nicolas Maury, the actor who plays Ruben, and a lot of things that are  just out of my imagination.

GS: I’m glad that  you mentioned Nicolas, because he is a marvelous physical comedian. He has an expressive and elastic face and when one of the characters says Ruben “wiggles like a worm,” he isn’t kidding.

MB: Meeting  Nicolas has been really important for me. I had done two short films with him before “Let My People Go!” He has been  really important, because before I met him I didn’t dare to do comedy. I had  wanted to do comedy for a long time but I had been doing more dramatic films. When I met him he had such a special way of acting, being a comedian. He seemed like a modern Buster Keaton. That was very interesting  and very inspiring to me. I was thinking of him when I wrote the part (of Reuben).

GS: “Let My People Go!” takes a humorous look at various relationships, including  those between gay sons and their mothers and fathers. In one scene, Ruben accuses his mother Rachel of forcing him to relive his coming out, even though she knows he is gay.

MB: The important  thing for us, when we wrote the script, was not doing a coming-out film. It  shouldn’t be a film about coming out, but about a gay character that was  accepted by his family. I want to talk about how family can accept a gay son  because they love him. But there are still some stereotypes and ideas that exist inside the family. I wanted to talk about that, too. For example, how the mother  accepts the fact that he’s gay, but maybe he’ll find a nice woman and he’ll  settle down. The same thing with the father; when the father says you can’t  preach to me because you’re gay, it’s a kind of idea that even if all of the  family is really accepting of him and supportive, they still have stereotypical ideas about what homosexuality is.

GS: Carmen Maura,  who plays Rachel, is perhaps best known for her work with Pedro Almodovar. “Let My People Go!” is reminiscent of Almodovar’s style of comedy. Is he a filmmaker who you consider to be an influence on your work?

MB: Ah, yes, very  much so. I grew up in Spain, spent my whole childhood in Spain, and his films  were important to me. Carmen was really more than an actress, she was an icon of  my teenage years. I was really lucky to have her in the film. Because I had grown up in Spain, when I started the casting I wanted her to have a little bit  of Spain in the film.

GS: “Let My People Go!” also gives us intimate  relationships between older people – Ruben’s father Nathan and his mistress  Francoise, attorney Goldberg and his longtime male companion Schwartz. Why was it important for you to include those kinds of relationships in the  movie?

MB: I think it’s a  film about every kind of love and desire. I was interested to explore that side. What was interesting about the Goldberg character to me was that he has such a joyful and liberated way of expressing himself, doing whatever he wants. I thought it was really funny to confront Ruben, who has a very complicated way of living his desires, with a character like that, who can allow himself to be the president of the Jewish community and at the same time go disco dancing at a gay club. He does whatever he wants [laughs].

GS: “Let My People Go!” employs humor to address the age old subject of Jews and Gentiles. Do you think that it will always be an “us versus them” relationship, or will the Jews and the “goyim” ever find common ground?

MB: I think that  as long as we have real Jewish mothers [laughs] it will always be an issue. I think that was the whole idea of the (Jewish) spray (utiltized by Rachel). I  think until we find a way to invent that in real life [laughs], I don’t think it  will be resolved.

GS: Cecil B. DeMille’s “The Ten Commandments”, which you include in the movie, has become a staple of Passover entertainment. What would it mean to you if “Let My People Go!” shared a similar place of honor?

MB: That would be  great. I don’t ask so much [laughs]. Just that people have a good time with the  film. The first image I had when I started writing the script was of Reuben  seeing the image of Charlton Heston in the Cecil B DeMille film. The whole idea  was confront the image of the super Jew, the ideal of the Jewish son. Ruben is  such a clumsy character…

GS: … he’s kind of a nebbish.

MB: [Laughs] Yes, absolutely. The whole comedy idea came from the gap between Charlton Heston and  Ruben.

GS: Mikael, have you begun working on your next film project?

MB: Yes, I’m  currently writing a script. It will be a comedy also. But I’m a little  superstitious when I’m writing, so even my closest friends don’t know what I’m  writing about. My mother keeps trying to call me to find out what I’m writing  about, but she won’t know  [laughs].

Empire Stage

1140 N. Flagler Dr., Ft. Lauderdale

(954) 678-1496

islandcitystage.org, empirestage.com smarttix.com

Thursdays through Saturdays at 8:00pm, Sundays at 5:00pm, through April 7.

$30.00

It’s been a long time since I was blown away by an evening of theater. Empire Stage’s production of the 2009 Drama Desk Award-winning “Body Awareness” is a perfect storm of excellent writing, a strong ensemble, and adept direction. Even the set design is perfect.

The play is set in the fictional small town of Shirley, Vermont, where Phyllis, a college professor organizes Body Awareness Week (with topics that range from a dance troupe of refugee Palestinian children to an eating disorder
seminar). She lives with her partner Joyce, a high school social studies teacher, and Joyce’s 21-year-old son Jarod, from a prior marriage. Jarod, a self-described autodidact, shows several symptoms of Asperger’s Syndrome (a form of autism), but he refuses to seek treatment.

The family hosts Frank, one of the artists who is in town for the event. Frank is a middle-aged photographer whose artistic photos of nude women offend Phyllis. His presence exacerbates the already existing tension between the three family members, and when Joyce contemplates posing for one of Frank’s pictures, it threatens her relationship with Phyllis. Meanwhile, Jarod asks Frank for advice on how to attract women. In a climactic scene, his misinterpretation of Frank’s advice puts the family on the edge of crisis.

Clay Cartland is exceptional as Jarod the man-child. His spot-on interpretation of a young man struggling to cope in a society he doesn’t completely comprehend is nothing short of breathtaking. Janet Weakly takes the role of Joyce, a familiar mother/wife who is trying to keep all the roles in her life spinning, and adds an inner strength and depth of character that a lesser actor might have over-looked. Merry Jo Cortada does an excellent job of adding a layer of vulnerability to her interpretation of Phyllis, a feminist lesbian college professor. A scene late in the play, in which she shares a snack with her damaged stepson, is almost heartbreaking as you catch a glimpse into the woman she hides from others. David Gordon as the visiting artist Frank, who triggers Jarod’s life-changing decision, avoids the cliché of playing the role as a macho outsider. By taking the character in a subtler direction, Gordon opens up the interpretation of the other characters in the play.

The Tony Award-nominated Michael Leeds’ direction is phenomenal, allowing each character to unfold like a flower, while keeping the action moving forward. Michael McClain’s set design is spot-on and makes excellent use of the small space.

One of the themes in the play is how the artist as an outsider interprets his or her subject and how we, as the viewer, interpret the subject of an artist’s work. “Body Awareness” also reflects this. The characters to which you most relate will affect how you relate to the play. Playwright Annie Baker is an outsider observing these characters in a world she has created. It is a testament to her success in constructing this world that we as outsiders can relate to each character.

The small theater seats maybe 30 people and if this production isn’t sold out every night there’s something wrong in this world.

Andrews Living Arts Studio

23 NW 5 St.

(954) 556-1143

Winner of the Pulitzer Prize and Tony Award for Best Play, “Doubt” is a study in faith versus proof. John Patrick Shanley’s play is set in 1964, at St. Nicolas Elementary School in the Bronx, one year after John F. Kennedy’s assassination. Sister Aloysius, the strict school principal, has convinced herself that Father Flynn is molesting the school’s only African- American student, and she is determined to have Flynn removed from the school, enlisting the innocent novitiate nun, Sister James, in her campaign to expose the priest.

Are her suspicions of Father Flynn based in fact, or are they an extension of her dislike for his more “humanistic” approach to education? Shanley demonstrates his belief that “doubt requires more courage than conviction does” by having Sister Aloysius represent unwavering faith (and, by extension, religion), while Sister James and Father Flynn represent honest doubt and questioning the status quo.

The success of the play is in its avoidance of presenting any one “truth.” Sister Aloysius’ accusations against Father Flynn are never truly resolved. And the “evil of banality” is demonstrated in the attitude of the mother of the purported victim, Donald Muller: Does it even matter? Mrs. Muller recognizes that education is her son’s only hope for a better life. She has come to terms with the fact that her boy is “that way,” and is more concerned with keeping him safe from the bullying he suffered in public school than she is of Father Flynn’ intentions. As Shanley writes in the preface, “There is no last word. That’s the silence under the chatter of our time.”

As proof that great writing holds up, Shanley’s script shines through the earnest, if less than stellar performances by the cast. Lory Reyes’ almost breaks through the stern veneer of Sister Aloysius, and we see glimmers of a performance that might have been. Yanina Aranes shines as Sister James, as we see her innocence stripped away layer by layer until she finally exhibits the strength to disagree with her martinet superior and voice support of Father Flynn. Shani Louis’ performance as the mother is strong, but would have been improved if she let us see more of her character’s ambivalence.

The weak link in this production is Edward Otto Zielke’s interpretation of Father Flynn. His overwrought histrionics ruin the performance. He would do well to rent the DVD of the movie and watch Phillip Seymour Hoffman’s effective use of restraint in the same role. In more adept hands, the part is played for ambiguity, with the audience left to wonder if Father Flynn is innocent and protecting himself from false accusations or a self-serving predator who is trying to hide what he has done. Zielke’s performance is that of a man racked by guilt for his misdeeds.

The set makes effective use of the small space. Annoyingly, a few anachronisms (Father Flynn’s highlighted hair and goatee, the use of what appears to be a modern MP3 player used in place of a transistor radio) pull us out of the world of the play. And really, they couldn’t find a vintage dress for Mrs. Muller? The day after we saw the play, we saw at least six at Out of the Closet that were era appropriate and would have fit Ms. Louis much better. Although flawed, it’s a valiant effort for this small company.

“Doubt” is showing at Andrews Living Arts Studio (23 NW 5 St., Fort Lauderdale), with a schedule that has been extended through Sunday, March 3. For more information, visit andrewslivingarts.com. Tickets are available at brownpapertickets.com, use discount code “GuyMag” or “Agenda” for $2.00 off per ticket.

Wallflower and high school freshman Charlie (Logan Lerman) is recovering from a difficult spell in the early 1990s. His late Aunt Helen (Melanie Lynskey), with whom he shared a dark and inappropriately intimate secret, haunts him years after her death. There’s also a friend he mentions his who killed himself. But wait, there’s more. Charlie is about to enter the hallowed and hellish halls of a new school.

Preferring to blend into the scenery, Charlie is taken under the wing of English teacher Mr. Anderson (Paul Rudd), who offers literary guidance. Then, surprising even himself, Charlie makes friends with queer senior Patrick (Miller) and in turn Patrick’s stepsister Sam (Watson). Suddenly, the kid who preferred solitude, reading and writing finds himself in a series of social situations that he never could have predicted.

With increased social acceptance comes great responsibility. Some things he masters, such as keeping secrets (including when he walks in on Patrick kissing one of the stars of the football team). But he struggles with other social graces, such as how to break up with a girl (he has the bad judgment to do it during a game of Truth or Dare). In case you didn’t see it from a mile away, Charlie also falls in love with the lovable Sam. Sam, who’s only interested in older guys, treats Charlie with kid gloves, which only increases his feelings for her.

As Charlie blossoms, his past and the present converge. He finds himself unable to cope. His newfound social status isn’t what he thought it would be and everything, including his friendships, begins to look bleak for him. There are (borderline new age) lessons to be learned about accepting “the love we think we deserve,” however the real lesson has more to do with the power and value of friendships. Not a perfect movie, but one that nevertheless has enough “perks” to make it worthwhile to watch. Blu-ray special features include digital and ultraviolet copies, audio commentary by Chbosky, Miller, Lerman and Watson, deleted scenes and more.

Religion has been making its way into recent indie LGBT films. From dismal disappointments such as Ash Christian’s “Mangus!” to the Shumanski’s “Blackmail Boys,” it’s a topic that isn’t going away, especially in light of the way the community is treated by religious extremists. You can add Stephen Cone’s amazing “The Wise Kids” (Wolfe/Cone Arts) to the list and place it at the top of the list as the best of the current crop.

Set in Charleston, South Carolina, in a community with strong ties to the church, “The Wise Kids” begins in April as music director Austin (Cone) is conducting rehearsals for the Passion play. One look at Austin and your gaydar will go off, in spite of the fact that he’s married to Elizabeth (Sadieh Rifai). It’s also obvious that Austin is in love with Tim (Tyler Ross), a gay high school senior who is heading off to the New School in New York to study film in the fall.

Tim’s best friend Brea (Molly Kunz), the preacher’s daughter, is totally cool about Tim being gay. The same can’t be said for classmate and religious zealot Laura (Allison Torem), who virtually has a nervous breakdown when she finds out Tim is gay and of course vows to pray for him. Brea, who is going through a crisis of faith, becomes closer to Tim (even applying to and getting accepted at NYU), which puts a strain on her friendship with Laura who is, as you might suspect, going to a Christian college.

“The Wise Kids” takes us all the way through December, with stops in May and August, as the trio of friends, as well as the members of their respective families, come to terms with the changes rapidly occurring in their lives. The wonder of the film is the way that every relationship rings true. From Tim and his father (and siblings) to Brea and her father to Austin and Elizabeth and even Tim and Austin, there is never a false note. “The Wise Kids” is a brave and, yes, wise achievement. DVD bonus features include a pair of featurettes.