|6:30 & 8:45 each evening|
|1:30 & 4:00 matinees Sat & Sun|
Rated R; 120 minutes
Angie Errigo, Empire Magazine (excerpted)
When gay activists offer support to a suffering Welsh village during the 1984 Miners’ Strike, the communities forge an unlikely alliance that will have huge repercussions. Pride is a heartwarming tale of Thatcherite Britain with a disarming take on dark days, courage and solidarity.
At the time, did anyone realize the Miners’ Strike of 1984 would shape modern Britain? At London’s Gay Pride march, activists note that the LGBT community has much in common with the striking miners, both demonized by Thatcher’s government, police and tabloids. So they form “Lesbians And Gays Support Miners.” Only the miners are queasy about taking donations from the group. Undeterred, the gang jump in a colorful bus, speeding scenically to the vowel-challenged village of Onllwyn and a mixed reception at the working men’s club.
Pride, based on real people and events, is everything you could hope for from a well-written, beautifully cast historical comedy-drama. It’s funny, moving and uplifting, and has a cracking soundtrack. Director Matthew Warchus knows he’s following in the line of Billy Elliot and The Full Monty, and deftly balances jokes and tears to make this every bit as enjoyable.
Dear White People
|6:00 & 8:15 each evening|
|1:00 & 3:30 matinees Sat & Sun|
Rated R; 100 minutes
A.O. Scott, The New York Times (excerpted)
Justin Simien’s first feature film is as smart and fearless a debut as I’ve seen from an American filmmaker in quite some time: knowing but not snarky, open to influence and confident in its own originality. It’s a clever campus comedy that juggles a handful of hot potatoes — race, sex, privilege, power — with elegant agility. You want to see this movie, and you will want to talk about it afterward, even if the conversation feels awkward. If it doesn’t, you’re doing it wrong. There is great enjoyment to be found here, if not alot of comfort.
Dear White People is the title of a series of campus radio broadcasts and viral Internet videos concocted by one of the movie’s major characters, a college student named Samantha White, played with heartbreaking poise by Tessa Thompson. Sam, as she is called, uses “Dear White People” to call out the hypocrisies, blind spots and micro-aggressions that African-Americans experience in their daily encounters with well-meaning Caucasians. Such people, including many of her fellow undergraduates at the Ivier-than-Ivy League Winchester University, make up a big part of Sam’s fan base. The eagerness of some whites to prove that they “get it” on matters of race — their clumsy appropriations of African-American idioms and pop-cultural forms — is one of the targets of Sam’s critique and Mr. Simien’s satire.
And so there is the tendency of some black people to poke at that insecurity, and to engage one another in fierce battles about authenticity, appropriate conduct and political strategy. Dear White People deals out a deck of race cards, most of them jokers. To change the metaphor, the film leads its characters and its viewers — pale-skinned critics very much included — down a path strewn with eggshells, some of which sit on top of land mines.