Stay Through the Credits

Our thirteenth film at Toronto is Andrew Haigh's slow burning family drama set on an isolated 1950s mountain farm, and it completely earns every ounce of its patience. We talk about the film's stunning use of landscape as storytelling, Caitríona Balfe's devastating performance as a mother unraveling in plain sight, and how the film handles a young man's quiet queer awakening with a tenderness we didn't expect from a story this remote and rugged.

Our twelfth film at Toronto brought Anna Biller back after a ten year absence, and she picked medieval times as her new canvas for exploring beauty standards and toxic chivalry. We talk about how gorgeous this film looks, why its frequent detours into monologues about womanhood actually work in its favor, and how a story about disfigurement and revenge somehow becomes one of the most colorful, fun watches of the festival.

Our eleventh film at Toronto pulls back the curtain on a real 1974 assassination attempt that Korea's own government worked hard to keep quiet. We talk about how director Hur Jin ho turns a suppressed historical event into a genuinely gripping conspiracy thriller, why the film's family drama subplots slow down its momentum, and why its abrupt ending left us wanting one more act.

Our tenth film at Toronto follows a group of ordinary people through October 6th, 2023, and the devastating morning that followed. We talk about how director Avi Nesher approaches an incredibly difficult historical moment through deeply personal stories, why the film centers connection and humanity over politics, and how one storyline in particular, involving a young woman's night that tests her faith, ended up being one of the most affecting threads of the entire festival.

Our ninth film at Toronto is a quiet coming of age story set inside a fading literary magazine in 2010s New York, and it snuck up on us more than we expected. We talk about Lily McInerny's internalized lead performance, why the film's small, unglamorous disappointments hit harder than any big twist could, and how a story about losing your illusions somehow ends up feeling warm instead of bitter.

This film at Toronto had us completely locked in for most of its runtime thanks to two incredible lead performances, and then it took a hard left turn we're still trying to process. We talk about Erin Doherty's devastating portrayal of grief, why James McAvoy's quiet stillness works so well early on, and how a story this grounded ends up derailed by a supernatural twist that just doesn't land.

Our seventh film at Toronto tells a genuinely incredible true story about resistance fighters faking an entire issue of a Nazi controlled newspaper, and somehow turns it into one of the slower sits of the festival. We talk about why a heist movie about printing presses gets bogged down in its own logistics, whether the film's message about truth reaching the masses still holds up today, and the slightly awkward irony of its real world production ties.

Our sixth film at Toronto gave us one of the most gripping opening acts of the festival and then completely changed direction on us. We talk about Naomi Watts delivering a genuinely unsettling performance as a hidden war criminal, why the film's twist lands so much harder than its courtroom heavy back half, and how a story this compelling somehow ends up feeling conventional by the credits.

Our fifth film at Toronto took one of literature's most legendary writers and completely stripped away the reverence, and we are so here for it. We talk about Johnny Flynn playing Dostoevsky as a gambling, drunken disaster of a man, why Aimee Lou Wood quietly steals the entire film as the wife holding everything together, and how a random needle drop of Take On Me somehow becomes the perfect summary of this film's entire attitude.

Our fourth film at Toronto this year takes us into one of the more quietly terrifying stories of the festival, a cult drama that skips the usual charismatic male leader trope entirely. We break down Carrie Coon's incredible dual performance as a suburban housewife pulled into a commune, why Lily James makes for one of the most unnervingly effective cult recruiters we've seen onscreen, and how director Guy Nattiv turns his own family history into something that feels painfully universal for anyone who has ever felt invisible.