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‘Rebuilding’ Review: Josh O’Connor Is Heart-Wrenching in a Tender Portrait of Post-Wildfire Loss and Resilience

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‘Rebuilding’ Review: Josh O’Connor Is Heart-Wrenching in a Tender Portrait of Post-Wildfire Loss and Resilience

Working in his native Colorado, as he did in his memorable debut feature, A Love Song, Max Walker-Silverman again conjures a potent visual language from the landscape in Rebuilding. And, again, the writer-director places a halting love story at the center of his film. This time, though, the rural vista is scarred by a devastating wildfire, and it isn’t sweethearts separated by time who become reacquainted but a father and his young daughter, separated by divorce.

That father is an unmoored cowboy named Dusty, trying to figure out what comes next after the flames have destroyed his ranch, the place that defines him. The wrenching heart of this quiet drama, he’s played with eloquent understatement by Josh O’Connor, delivering the latest in a remarkable string of performances, and one that’s matched beat for poignant beat by the other members of the central cast.

Rebuilding

The Bottom Line

Understated and radiant.

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Venue: Sundance Film Festival (Premieres)
Cast: Josh O’Connor, Lily LaTorre, Meghann Fahy, Amy Madigan, Kali Reis
Director-screenwriter: Max Walker-Silverman

1 hour 35 minutes

Notwithstanding the eerie timeliness of the movie, arriving as Los Angeles is reeling from disastrous conflagrations, this is a work whose riches transcend topicality. With his understanding of and affection for the hardy inhabitants of the mountainous American West, Walker-Silverman brings a new and tender radiance to the idea of regional filmmaking, along with an awareness of outworn stereotypes. Upending clichés about rugged individualism, Rebuilding looks toward a communal vision of courageousness and reinvention, a way to move forward without negating the past — especially when the remnants of that past have been reduced to ash.

Reteaming with cinematographer Alfonso Herrera Salcedo, Walker-Silverman wields an elegant shorthand, beginning with the ominous beauty of embers against a night sky. Cutting from that opening image to a ghostly scorched forest of leafless trees, Rebuilding delves straight into Dusty’s limbo, beginning with the auction of the cattle his charred land can no longer sustain. The editing, by Jane Rizzo and Ramzi Bashour, is finely attuned to the straightforward, crystalline lensing and the story’s often wordless poignancy. And the acoustic score by Jake Xerxes Fussell and James Elkington is in sync with the interplay of dialogue and loaded silences, and well abetted by the occasional strains of country on the radio of Dusty’s truck. (A John Prine tune caps things off in the perfect key.)

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Having kicked around here and there for a couple of months after the fire, Dusty is the last arrival at a mini-village of FEMA trailers arranged on a remote scrap of land. Alone in the narrow interior of his new home with the few boxes that hold his remaining earthly possessions, he jumps in his truck to escape the aching silence, arriving at a cheery clapboard house in town. Its kid-friendly yard clutter and warm interior (outstanding work by production designer Juliana Barreto Barreto) are an antidote to the sudden, awful emptiness of Dusty’s days. This is the home of his former mother-in-law, Bess (Any Madigan), and it’s where his ex, Ruby (Meghann Fahy), is raising their 9-year-old daughter, Callie-Rose (Lily LaTorre).

Ruby is surprised to see him, but doesn’t waste the opportunity to enlist him in some parenting. Without spelling it out in conversation, this narrative sequence makes clear, in Ruby’s almost angry decisiveness, Callie-Rose’s shyness bordering on detachment, and Dusty’s awkward hesitation, that he hasn’t been a steady part of his little girl’s life for a while. LaTorre, who starred opposite Sarah Snook in Run Rabbit Run, is captivating, conveying her character’s perceptiveness as well as the observational knack she’s inherited from her mother. “Mom says you didn’t apply yourself,” she informs her dad, who takes the judgment good-naturedly even as he feels the sting. Sometimes, clearly, his daughter’s intelligence intimidates him.

For Callie-Rose, whose guardedness soon gives way to infatuation, there’s an unmistakable gift in her father’s calamity: He’s released from the chores that claimed all his waking hours. The cowboy stuff that once put him at a distance is now a source of fascination and a way of connecting. In an especially lovely scene, he teaches her to saddle his horse, being housed for now by a fellow rancher (Dwight Mondragon). Dusty’s trailer-park life is no less an adventure for his daughter. She makes a new friend (Zeilyanna Martinez), a tween girl whose father died in the wildfire, and together they plant a firmament of glow-in-the-dark stars on the drab walls of Dusty’s trailer, interrupting his despair with magic.

Callie-Rose helps to draw her father into this new community, a place he initially regards as a mere way station, a blip on the road back to the life he’s always known. But that road is not as direct as he envisions it. A man of few words, Dusty is most animated when talking about rebuilding the ranch that has been in his family for four generations. You can see his dream of that yearned-for return shatter, and his soul sink, as he takes in the crushing advice of a loan officer (Jefferson Mays) at the local bank.

The people Dusty at first views as “not real neighbors anyway” quickly become a family of sorts, sharing meals and memories of the things they lost in the fire. With the exception of Mali, a heroically even-keeled widow played by Kali Reis, of True Detective, the roles of Dusty’s fellow survivors are handled by first-time screen actors, including the accomplished musician Binky Griptite. Most of them have a few moments of character-sketch screen time, but, more to Walker-Silverman’s point, they stand collectively in calm, sturdy rebuke to the notion, long endorsed by Hollywood, of a homogenous rural America. (Another Sundance selection this year, the South Dakota-set East of Wall, offers its own cliché-busting picture of the West.)

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Dusty’s new neighbors include a lesbian couple (Nancy Morlan and Kathy Rose), a biracial couple (Biptite and Jeanine London), an affable plumber (David Bright) and a man of the woods (Christopher Young) who maintains a friendly distance. Mainly they’re emblems, here not to complicate the story but to provide a composite portrait of kindness and resilience. (The most glaringly underdeveloped role in the drama belongs to Ruby’s partner, Robbie, an amenable guitar-strumming fellow played by Sam Engbring.)

In the presence of his fellow FEMA tenants, Dusty is at first like a forlorn big kid, slouching slightly as if to minimize his towering frame, thrusting his normally hardworking, newly idle hands into his jeans pockets, and, yes, occasionally helping himself to one of his daughter’s juice boxes. But beneath the lost, juvenile aura are questions of legacy and a keen awareness of the life he’s inherited — not an easy one, as the dates on his parents’ headstones in the family plot attest.

The matter of rootedness is addressed head-on when Callie-Rose goes to work on a family tree, presumably for school. As the girl, her parents and grandmother sit around a table filled with names and photographs, what might have been merely literal in lesser hands unfurls with a powerful current of love beneath its minimal dialogue.

Fahy, infusing her atypical role with an earthy grace, delivers a couple of the movie’s most affecting passages, the language’s simplicity matched by the emotions’ enormity. And Madigan’s modest directness lays a foundation for the drama in a way that’s so masterful in its subtlety, you’d be tempted to call it sleight of hand.

On the face of it, Dusty is a role that might seem a stretch even for shapeshifter O’Connor, who in a few short years has traveled a path of electrifying versatility, beginning with God’s Own Country and his star-making turn on The Crown, and on through such diverse terrain as Mothering Sunday, La Chimera and Challengers. But the British actor is compelling from first moment to last, fully inhabiting the character’s pain and confusion as well as his essential optimism.

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Everyone in Rebuilding is sincere, honest and caring, and nothing is overplayed — including the bashful love that blossoms between Dusty and Callie-Rose and is the engine of the story. As this exceptionally quiet movie unfolds, there are moments when you might wish for more friction, more heat, like the healthy dashes of hot sauce with which Madigan’s character doses the scrambled eggs she serves her granddaughter. But Walker-Silverman is a filmmaker who doesn’t hew to formulaic arcs, and it would be a mistake to interpret quietness as tranquility or ease. Something more complex and rewarding than surface tension is at play here, and it builds to a conclusion of breathtaking openheartedness. Sometimes a blip on the road is magic in disguise, the root of a dazzling new constellation.

Movie Reviews

Tumbledown (2015) – A Movie Review

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Tumbledown (2015) – A Movie Review

See if you can discover the rest of the plot.

Tumbledown is a 2015 film. A New York writer attempts to contact a grieving woman and questions her about her late husband’s ambiguous death. As Hannah reluctantly opens up to Andrew, the pair slowly grow romantic feelings for one another.

We can always use a relatable film about writing. Tumbledown interweaves themes about grief and second chances. The film is great for what it is, but its central focus should have been on its main characters and its themes of building new stories.

I have come to love Rebecca Hall. She is an incredible actress with versatile talents. Her character, Hannah, reminded me of Beth in The Night House, but Hall has a knack for playing roles differently. Hannah could have been your average grieving character, but Hall breathes more depth into the role, especially in her countenance. She uses humor as a defense shield.

Jason Sudeikis plays Andrew, the reporter pursuing Hannah for her story. I like how Sudeikis plays the role, adding comical touches and his character’s empathy. He was also chosen for the role for his emotional depth.

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Hall and Sudeikis are the sarcasm duo who work on putting a story on the pages. Andrew and Hannah have a fascinating dynamic, slowly understanding that they both have hidden layers.

Tumbledown was already a strong story with its acting duo, but the film had to add more characters. The supporting characters are not as strong. That doesn’t go for Blythe Danner, who plays Hannah’s nagging mother. Credits include Richard Masur, Joe Manganiello, Dianna Agron, Griffin Dunne, and Maggie Castle.

Other characters pad the runtime. Save for Hannah’s adorable dogs, however. Dogs always make the best companions. Hannah’s dogs follow her around or threaten anybody who looks suspicious. I enjoyed when Hannah read to them

In Sean Mewshaw’s directorial debut, the film’s tone reflects a quiet sadness. He also inserts moments of comedy. Tumbledown is not your typical grief film, though it has relatable lessons. Grief has several stages. As the town’s bookshop owner said, it’s okay to ask for help.

The film was a collaborative project between Mewshaw and his wife, Desiree Van Til, who wrote the film. Tumbledown spent a decade before being developed. The story of Tumebledown all started when Van Til experienced homesickness for her home state, Maine. She wrote the story as a celebration of her hometown and as a grief method film.

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Tumbledown is also a writing film, my favorite subject. This film is an example of journalism, a job that has steadily grown for me in the last year. Andrew and Hannah have different approaches to writing. While Hannah sees no point in telling the story, Andrew describes a book as someone’s legacy.

The cinematography is beautiful, capturing nature’s beauty. The cliffside viewing of the sunset was an incredible shot. I love sunsets so much that I pull over when driving to take a picture.

Although the film takes place in Maine, unfortunately, filmmakers could not film there because it was too expensive. Instead, different locations in Massachusetts filled in for it. Filmmakers accommodated nice interior settings, like Hannah’s home and the town bookstore.

Second chances are a gift. As I was saying, Tumbledown should have focused more on its central characters and their revelation about second chances.

The film was received in a positive light by audiences when it premiered at film festivals. Take a look at Tumbledown. It makes a nice romance movie, a film for writers, and a grief-healing story.

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Wake Up Dead Man review: Knives Out return worthy for film lover but misses mark

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Wake Up Dead Man review: Knives Out return worthy for film lover but misses mark

Wake Up Dead Man: A Knives Out Mystery is the third installment in the popular Knives Out franchise with Daniel Craig reprising his role as Detective Benoit Blanc

Wake Up Dead Man: A Knives Out Mystery is the third installment in Rian Johnson’s blockbuster Knives Out franchise, reuniting viewers with Daniel Craig’s beloved Kentucky Fried detective character Benoit Blanc.

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The film features an A-list ensemble cast and tells the story of a priest and former boxer named Jud Duplenticy, played by Josh O’Connor, who is transferred to a new church run by Josh Brolin’s Monsignor Jefferson Wick, the cult-of-personality preacher with a flock of faithful followers at the center of the film’s mystery.

While Wake Up Dead Man is beautifully shot, the plot, inspired by the locked-room mystery subgenre of crime fiction, takes so many twists and turns that, at 2 hours and 20 minutes, it starts to feel redundant and, well, preachy.

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Wake Up Dead man had its world premiere at the 2025 Toronto International Film Festival on September 6. I happened to catch the film in a beautiful 35mm print at the Paris Theater in New York City, which is owned by Netflix. Following a limited theatrical run, Wake Up Dead Man will premiere on Netflix on December 12.

Along with Craig, O’Connor, and Brolin, the film also stars Glenn Close, Mila Kunis, Jeremy Renner, Kerry Washington, Andrew Scott, Cailee Spaeny, Daryl McCormack, and Thomas Hayden Church.

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Overall, the mystery at hand is a fresh take on the genre that incorporates heavy commentary on religion and capitalism, while exploring themes such as faith versus logic and greed versus sacrifice, among others.

The acting is fantastic, as expected with such a stellar cast, but there may be one too many characters, which means the audience only gets a surface-level understanding of who they are and what potential motives they may have as suspects.

The push and pull between Detective Blanc’s logical sensibility and Father Jud’s more faith-based ethos is a welcome contrast that keeps the story moving along. What the film lacks, however, is some of the silliness of the first two films. There are some lighthearted and cheeky moments, but part of what makes the Knives Out franchise such a great blend of good old-fashioned mystery and timely social commentary is the use of humor as parody.

There are some good zingers here and there, but an overall sense of heaviness looms over the film, which could be alleviated by more moments of levity.

One of the most enjoyable aspects of the movie and the franchise as a whole is how it both leans into and subverts the genre’s tropes. There’s a Scooby Doo reference, Benoit using a magnifying glass, an overt reference to the 1935 novel The Hollow Man, and so many bait-and-switch moments that are what make the Knives Out movies so satisfying to watch unravel.

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While “Wake Up Dead Man” is a fun watch, it does not quite live up to the first film. The story is a bit convoluted at times, and takes so many twists and turns it’ll leave you feeling whiplashed, not to mention how heavy-handed the commentary and metaphor are when you’re being hit over the head with it. Even the bible had editors.

While it’s not as good as the first installment, Wake Up Dead Man is definitely worth watching, especially for mystery lovers.

We caught up with the franchise’s star, Daniel Craig, on the red carpet at the world premiere of the film at TIFF and asked him how many times he planned to play Benoit Blanc after starring as James Bond in five films. Playing coy, she shrugged and answered, “Five! I don’t know!” So, it’s possible that we may see more of Benoit Blanc in the future.

Wake Up Dead Man: A Knives Out Mystery is now playing in select theaters and premieres on Netflix on December 12.

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IFFI 2025 | ‘Father Mother Sister Brother’ movie review: Jim Jarmusch’s awkward family triptych is a tender triumph

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IFFI 2025 | ‘Father Mother Sister Brother’ movie review: Jim Jarmusch’s awkward family triptych is a tender triumph

Jim Jarmusch’s Father Mother Sister Brother came to IFFI carrying the heavy luggage of a Golden Lion from Venice, and the expectation that the patron saint of deadpan will have something new to say about families who barely talk to each other. He delivers a slim, haunted triptych in which adult children circle their parents like cautious satellites, testing the limits of duty, guilt and whatever passes for affection once the script of childhood has long since ended.

The architecture is simple. Three chapters. Three cities. Three configurations of kin who see one another rarely and never quite know what to do with the time. “Father” strands a brother and sister on icy American backroads as they head to their dad’s cabin for a welfare check. “Mother” gathers an English novelist and her two daughters around a fastidiously laid Dublin tea table. “Sister Brother” follows Parisian twins as they sift through the property of parents killed in a plane crash. A Rolex is seen slipping from hand to hand, toasts happen with a variety of different liquids, and the phrase “Bob’s your uncle” keeps turning up like an inside joke nobody fully understands anymore. The connective tissue is playful, though the mood under it remains bruised.

Father Mother Sister Brother (English)

Director: Jim Jarmusch

Cast:  Tom Waits, Adam Driver, Mayim Bialik, Charlotte Rampling, Cate Blanchett, Vicky Krieps, Sarah Greene, Indya Moore and Luka Sabbat

Runtime: 110 minutes

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Storyline: Estranged siblings reunite after years apart, forced to confront unresolved tensions and reevaluate their strained relationships with their emotionally distant parents

For anyone fond of Mystery Train, Night on Earth or Coffee and Cigarettes, there is an immediate sense of lineage. Jarmusch is back in anthology mode, working again with Frederick Elmes and Yorick Le Saux, whose images of snow, china and storage units feel calmly tangible in an era of slippery VFX backdrops. The Saint Laurent money shows up in the knitwear and coats, but the frames still feel shaggy and lived in.

“Father” is the chilliest piece on the surface and the one that kept expanding in my head afterward. In the car, siblings Jeff (Adam Driver) and Emily (Mayim Bialik) talk like colleagues stuck in a lift. The subject is their hermit father’s mental health and the household disasters Jeff has quietly been financing. At the cabin, Tom Waits shuffles around in fragility and grift. The yard looks like a ruin, the truck is art-directed decay and the kitchen clutter aches with a very specific American anxiety about aging into insolvency. But at the end of this uncomfortable chapter, a watch glints, and a shinier car appears. The performance of poverty begins to peel. Jarmusch nudges us toward queasier thoughts of care curdling into control on both sides of the generational line, with money often the language everyone pretends not to be speaking.

A still from ‘Father Mother Sister Brother’

A still from ‘Father Mother Sister Brother’
| Photo Credit:
MUBI

The Dublin chapter pivots from American rural precarity to European decorum that feels just as brittle. The mother here, played with exquisite frost by Charlotte Rampling, is a revered novelist whose books are proudly displayed yet barely discussed. Her daughters arrive like emissaries from two versions of capitalism. Timothea, Cate Blanchett’s civil servant, represents respectable policy and heritage boards. Lilith, Vicky Krieps’ fashion-adjacent chancer, sells vibes and influence while pretending she has an Uber budget. The apartment is a marvel of Saint Laurent-sponsored tidiness, all burgundy tailoring and coordinated cakes, and the conversation never quite finds a natural temperature.

What Jarmusch understands, and what Rampling plays to the hilt, is how “good manners” function as a class weapon. The mother’s clipped gratitude and fixation on the correct way to pour tea, even her tiny recoil when coats land on the chair, all become strategies for keeping real questions out of the room. The daughters collude and resist in small ways, by instinctively hiding ‘wrongdoings’ behind backs, sharing half-true work updates, and even disguising a girlfriend as a driver. The comedy is dry and constant, which only sharpens the sense of lives arranged around avoidance.

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A still from ‘Father Mother Sister Brother’

A still from ‘Father Mother Sister Brother’
| Photo Credit:
MUBI

“Sister Brother” moves into looser, more openly tender territory. Skye (Indya Moore) and Billy (Luka Sabbat) meet again in Paris after their parents die in a crash over the Azores. They drive, share coffee, and wander through an emptied apartment that once defined a life. Among them, the twins find forged IDs, old photos and a fake marriage certificate. The implication is that their parents were stranger and perhaps more compromised than the nostalgic montage in their heads allowed.

Jarmusch keeps returning to bodies rather than speeches here. The way Skye folds into Billy’s shoulder, or the casual rearranging of his hair before they step into the storage facility — the physical ease between them sits beside a dawning awareness that their parents’ story is full of blank pages. It is the gentlest panel, and also the one that most clearly states the film’s central ache of outgrowing the need for parental authority still making you feel the sting of everything you never thought to ask.

A still from ‘Father Mother Sister Brother’

A still from ‘Father Mother Sister Brother’
| Photo Credit:
MUBI

Throughout, Jarmusch’s own score, written with Anika, wraps the chapters in a low-key shimmer that feels closer to a late-night radio station. Skateboarders ghost across the frame in ethereal slow motion, in all three vignettes. Driving scenes also use rear projection that looks proudly old-school. Compared to the more schematic quirk of The Dead Don’t Die, this feels like late style in the best sense. The jokes are softer, the cuts are cleaner, the cynicism is dialed down, though the honesty is not. Questions that critics and siblings alike have been asking forever, linger. Who were these people before we arrived in their lives? And what kind of ancestors have we been training ourselves to become? 

Father Mother Sister Brother answers with three modest, beautifully observed fragments that suggest the only way through is to keep showing up, even when conversation runs dry and all that remains is tea, awkward silence and a watch that may or may not be real. Trust Jarmusch to prove that the real horror of middle age isn’t death or decay, but the annual ritual of visiting parents who’ve mastered the art of withholding basic information.

Father Mother Sister Brother was screened at the ongoing 56th International Film Festival of India in Goa

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Published – November 27, 2025 11:08 am IST

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