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‘Summer 2000: The X-Cetra Story’ Review: Winning Doc Celebrates Adolescent Girlhood, in All Its Glitter-Sprinkled Complexity

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‘Summer 2000: The X-Cetra Story’ Review: Winning Doc Celebrates Adolescent Girlhood, in All Its Glitter-Sprinkled Complexity

If you were ever a giddy kid who spent summers hanging out with friends, making crazy pop videos, goofy short films, and composing off-key songs you were convinced were going to make you stars, then Summer 2000: The X-Cetra Story is the exact film you should watch, enjoy — and then have a bit of a cry after, mourning the happy, creative child you once were before you turned into whatever you are now.

Precisely distilling that tangy mix of nostalgia, joy and regret, this delightful SXSW-premiering documentary tells the story of X-Cetra, an all-girl garage band that three 11-year-olds and one 9-year-old in Santa Rosa, California, formed in the year 2000. With help from two of the girls’ mother, herself a home-studio musician-producer, they made one album on a set of CD-Rs that became, two decades later, a viral phenomenon among fans of outsider art, generating tributes from prominent music publications including Rolling Stone.

Summer 2000: The X-Cetra Story

The Bottom Line

Girls just wanna have fun.

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Venue: SXSW Film Festival (Documentary Feature Competition)
With: Ayden Mayeri, Jessica Hall, Janet Kariuki, Mary Washburn, Robin O’Brien
Director: Ayden Mayeri
Screenwriters: Ayden Mayeri, Barry Rothbart

1 hour 41 minutes

As it turns out, one of the members of X-Cetra is Los Angeles-based actor Ayden Mayeri (I Love That for You). Drawing from her experience as a filmmaker, Mayeri documents X-Cetra’s reformation both as an onscreen participant and this film’s director and co-writer. (Fellow performer Barry Rothbart takes credits here as the film’s co-writer, producer and cinematographer.)

Like the scrappy, unvarnished but sort of brilliant music the band made back when they were kids, the film itself is a little all over the place and arguably would benefit from some editorial tightening up, but it’s clearly made with love. Best of all, that generosity of feeling and affection applies not just to what the X-Cetra members feel for each other, both back in the day and in the present even after having drifted apart over the years, but what they feel for their young selves. In the end, it becomes a celebration of girlhood genius and the fearlessness of youth, festooned with glitter and fiercely crop-topped.

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Also, given that we’re in a cultural moment when we’re being bombarded, mostly for righteous reasons, with grainy, slightly unfocused images of nubile young women who were abused by the likes of Jeffrey Epstein and others, it’s refreshing to see Mayeri and her friends’ snapshots and know that, for the most part, these were relatively happy kids.

That said, the film does touch on some of the darker feelings lurking under the surface — especially for sisters Janet and Mary Washburn, who left their father back east after he and their mom, Robin O’Brien, got divorced and Robin took the kids west to live in the Bay Area. The film also carefully explores how younger sister Mary felt abandoned by her friends when they all went up to high school and stopped bringing her along to parties where the older three — Mayeri, her best friend Jessica Hall, and big sister Janet (now Janet Kariuki) — started to explore their teenage sexuality, an environment inappropriate for still prepubescent Mary. Later, the film softly probes sore spots like how the older threesome also drifted apart over the years, and how Ayden and Jessica’s bond was especially tested by Jessica’s relationship with a psychologically abusive boyfriend.

Those dark passages add shade that balances the very sunshine-y material that makes up the vast majority of the film. Frenetically cut, perhaps intentionally in the fragmentary style of an early aughts pop video, the work flicks back and forth constantly between footage of the four women today and their younger selves, who made full use of early digital technology of the time to record their antics.

With all this fizzy activity, it’s not clear when Mayeri and Rothbart decided to start making this film — in other words whether it was before or after X-Cetra’s first and only album, then called Stardust, was uploaded to a specialist music site from whence its viral career was launched. Ultimately, it doesn’t really matter, but the sequence where they find out first that the The Guardian in the U.K. and then Rolling Stone are interested in interviews with them feels a little disingenuously presented so as to buttress the fairy-tale success story the film is selling.

But just as a mini highlight reel of Mayeri’s best bits as an actor illustrates, she has great natural comic timing and that serves her well here as a director. She also coaxes her friends well in the interviews — these women who are clearly not as at ease in front of a camera as she is — so that they feel secure enough to open up. Gradually, they fill out as “characters” in their own right in the comedy-drama of the doc, all of them enduringly regular but also individuals with complex inner lives. That fine line between banality and brilliance is one the film navigates throughout with grace.

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Movie Reviews

Film Review: Supergirl – SLUG Magazine

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Film Review: Supergirl – SLUG Magazine

Arts

Supergirl
Director: Craig Gillespie
DC Studios, Troll Court Entertainment, The Sagan Company
In theaters: 06.26.2026

I was a pretty big fan of James Gunn’s Superman. Building up to the release of the film, I relapsed into my comic book obsession, which I had laid to rest many years prior. I read whatever you get recommended when you look up “Superman comic recommendations:” For All Seasons, All Star, Birthright — whatever, you don’t care. David Corenswet’s portrayal of Big Blue was loving, thorough and unbelievably human, which is what Superman is (he’s not Jesus). He is the best of us. He is what we aspire to be.

Supergirl was announced, and I picked up the comic it was based on: Supergirl: Woman of Tomorrow. The questionable morals and talent of author Tom King aside, the book is good! The fantastic art by Bilquis Evely makes King’s (sometimes preachy) prose this beautiful and somber story about trauma and war. It appears that I’m ahead of director Craig Gillespie, who reportedly didn’t read the book and, boy, does it show.

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During a bender, Superman’s cousin Kara (Milly Alcock, House of The Dragon) meets Ruthye (Eve Ridley), a child whose family is murdered by Krem (Matthias Schoenaerts, Amsterdam, The Old Guard), the leader of a raider group. She enlists Kara to hunt and kill him, and on their way, they confront their traumas.

Kara faces Krem, the films antagonist, retold as an all-powerful kryptonite wielding brute. Photo courtesy: DC Studios.

Every change made from the original comic was for the worse. Most notably, this film simplifies the depth of the comic’s characters. Kara is reduced to a loud, charming alcoholic, which is fine, but in the comic, she’s somber and reflective, making an effort to teach Ruthye how the greater universe works. The antagonist, Krem, is sort of a loser in the comic. He’s a coward who spends his time running away, while in the film he’s a tattooed, pierced, menacing psychopath who appears in almost every major action sequence. He’s almost indistinguishable from The Joker — this all boils down to shame. While they’re becoming increasingly popular, comics are still for losers. Hinting at depth with characters who fly and shoot lasers from their eyes in brightly colored underpants isn’t something that a general audience will accept. They will accept a comic film so long as it constantly flogs itself for being comic-inspired.

Another bastardization is the look of this film. Everly’s amazing use of color in the comic makes the story so engaging. How is this translated? Brown. Just brown. When characters clash, it looks like someone’s wiping their finger across their dirt-covered lens, which is a total departure from Gunn’s fantastic color palette in Superman. The visual effects appear to be rushed and often look horrible — laughably horrible, as a matter of fact. How do you spot a bad action director? Look at the editing. If they have to hide poor action choreography and bad visual effects behind dizzying amounts of cuts, they’re bad. Gillespie is a bad action director. James Gunn promised that the DCU would prioritize artist voice over universal coherence, but if these are the artists he’s hiring, I’m not sure how long this could last.

Performances here are whatever. Alcock could have been good if the script and direction were right, but they’re not. I couldn’t get into Krem due to character assassination, but even if I wasn’t into the comic, I would find his performance as a crazy guy to be a standard for bad superhero movies. Ridley is good, especially for a debut in feature films, but the standout is Jason Momoa (Aquaman, A Minecraft Movie) as Lobo. He is loving the character, absolutely chewing up the scene with thick cigars. He’s a little cheesy-edgy, but that’s just what he is in the comics, so I won’t knock him for it.

While I was watching the film, I was suffering from a discrepancy. Supergirl is as powerful as Superman, but throughout this film, she doesn’t use her powers to their full potential. Something I actually loved about Superman is how much he got his ass kicked. Gunn was out to prove that Superman fights can have stakes — that he’s not just undefeatable and therefore boring as everyone says. Gunn’s ability to create ways to kill the Man of Steel without Kryptonite is amazing! Kara, in this film, is fighting space pirates and constantly forgets to finish the fight. It’s frustrating because the remedy to this in the comic is that they don’t see Krem until the last couple of issues, but in this film, Krem keeps showing up to menace Supergirl, and most of the time she has her powers.

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I could ramble about how bad the dialogue can be, how derivative and uninspired it is or whatever lame comic thing I can talk about, but I’ll spare you. Here’s the moral of all this: Comic books are a valid storytelling medium. I recall recommending Alan Moore’s Watchmen to someone and being told that they have more important things to read. Watchmen is one of my favorite works of fiction. I did end up falling out of love with comics because I was told they were childish and I had grown bored of having costumes thrust into my peripherals all the time, but I’m back now, and I love them so much more than ever. I loved Superman because, above all else, it was earnest. There wasn’t a self-deprecatory tone toward its own plot. It didn’t try to bog its drama down with one-liners. It was just proud to be a comic book movie, and I think more movies should.

If you want to see Supergirl, go ahead, but I’d advise you to just read the comic, which is more dramatic, more meaningful and more impactful. —B. Allan Johnson

 

Read more reviews from B. Allan Johnson below: 
Film Review: The Bride!
Film Review: Backrooms

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Movie Reviews

Gail Daughtry and the Celebrity Sex Pass (2026) | Movie Review | Deep Focus Review

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Gail Daughtry and the Celebrity Sex Pass (2026) | Movie Review | Deep Focus Review

A deliriously funny riff on The Wizard of Oz from director David Wain, Gail Daughtry and the Celebrity Sex Pass is a goofy patchwork of ideas. Some of them don’t work, but most of them do if you’re in on the joke. Written by Wain and his longtime collaborator Ken Marino, the comedy features an incredible number of hilarious people, sometimes playing absurdist versions of themselves. Jon Hamm, Jennifer Aniston, John Slattery, and Elizabeth Banks, among others, cameo alongside a cast of lesser-known but no less talented performers. Headlining the movie is Zoey Deutch, who, amid an impressive list of credits, has proven her knack for ridiculous humor like this (see 2019’s Zombieland: Double Tap). Wain directs a series of episodic segments that follow characters who skip along a yellow brick road of surreal gags and jokes about Hollywood. It’s all a bit nonsensical and ludicrous, but it made me laugh a lot. 

For those of us who loved MTV’s sketch-comedy show The State (1993-1995) or Wain’s spoof movies such as Wet Hot American Summer (2001) and They Came Together (2014), Gail Daughtry will feel like a warm blanket. The State was a comedy troupe nesting ground for talent, many of whom went on to create and appear in dozens of other shows (Viva Variety, Reno 911!, Childrens Hospital, etc.), while member Michael Showalter has become a well-respected director whose output includes the indie comedy The Big Sick (2017) and the upcoming Colleen Hoover book adaptation Verity. Whenever Wain and Marino reteam with various members of The State (Michael Ian Black, Thomas Lennon, Kerri Kenney-Silver, Joe Lo Truglio, et al.), there’s usually something special in store. Even if the material doesn’t always work as a whole—see The Ten (2007), an anthology movie that pokes fun at the Ten Commandments—the result is bound to include some big laughs. 

Deutch plays the titular Kansas bumpkin, a hairdresser who plans to marry her fiancé and lifelong sweetheart, the ingeniously named Tom Soursap McNoodleman (Michael Cassidy), in two weeks. At once naive and intense, she’s never been with anyone else. Neither has Tom. But after sharing their picks for a celebrity sex pass, Tom almost instantly encounters his choice in the flesh and then takes advantage of the opportunity. Burned because she didn’t actually think they were serious about following through, Gail resolves to seek out her chosen celebrity, Jon Hamm, and have sex with him to balance the scales. And so, Gail is off to see The Wonderful Wizard of Hollywood, alongside her coworker named Otto (Miles Gutierrez-Riley), an anagram of Toto. As the story unfolds, Gail Daughtry spoofs the structure of Dorothy’s adventure to Oz, except that Gail’s destination is Tinseltown.

Just as New York was “another character” in They Came Together, Los Angeles becomes one here. But instead of capturing the city’s flavor, Gail and Otto gravitate toward CityWalk at Universal Studios and, based on their hotel concierge’s recommendations, other local hotspots such as McDonald’s, Starbucks, and 7-Eleven. Gail and Otto begin searching for Hamm and gather friends along the way. Among them are Vincent (Marino), a former paparazzo who dreams of snapping a photo of Hamm; Caleb (Ben Wang), an aspiring CAA talent agent; and the crazed Slattery, who wants to work with Hamm again after their Mad Men days. Hot on their trail are two cartoonish mobsters (Joe Lo Truglio, Mather Zickel) desperate to recover a briefcase that was switched with Gail’s at LAX and contains information about their boss’ (Sabrina Impacciatore) plans to dismantle the global financial system. Their quest eventually brings them to Hamm, whose private security (Tobie Windham) enforces not with his fists or a taser, but with an obscure promise to make anyone who tests him “real sick.” 

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Gail’s travels are occasionally interrupted by Fourth Wall-breaking commentary from the film’s narrator, a mailman played by Fred Malmed. It’s one of the aspects of the movie that doesn’t work, but Gail Daughtry’s framework is less essential than the inspired jokes throughout. Wain and Marino riotously showcase the most banal aspects of LA, a signature of their delightfully dumb humor, which almost always lands as intended. Granted, some unfamiliar with their brand of comedy may take a while to get on its wavelength, and others may never understand why it’s funny. Still, there are enough non sequiturs and random punchlines blended with raunchy and occasionally dark-as-hell asides to keep the viewer off-kilter yet chuckling throughout. 

There’s an irreverent surprise around every corner in Gail Daughtry, and Deutch fits right in with her comedian costars. Her impressive range renders the silliest moments without winking at the audience, but she also never reduces her character to a mere comic device. It’s also a joy to watch celebrities of Hamm and Aniston’s caliber poke fun at their image, even if the movie doesn’t challenge Being John Malkovich (1999) in its self-referentiality. Outside of last year’s disappointing The Naked Gun, few comedies today attempt to be pure joke machines. Wain and Marino deliver a movie that will probably take some time to be discovered and cherished for what it is, but after a few rewatches, much like the director’s other features, it’s sure to become a cult favorite.

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Film reviews: ‘The Invite’ and ‘Minions & Monsters’

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Film reviews: ‘The Invite’ and ‘Minions & Monsters’

‘The Invite’

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