I’m standing on the street at midnight on day ten of the South by Southwest Film Festival, working on my third or fourth wind. My flight boards in… five hours. Maybe this screening wasn’t my best idea. But after eavesdropping on some random people claiming that something called “The Peanut Butter Falcon” should be sweeping the Independent Spirits next year, we managed to squeeze in one last showing.
This review was originally published in the Mad About Movies NewsletterRead More