We Forgot to Break Up

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Six longtime friends—and one enticing “nymph”—trek to Nova Scotia’s scenic eastern shore to attend a Good Riddance party in celebration of Darcy’s divorce. There, amongst long pours of wine, tangled histories collide in uproarious ways in this wistful dark comedy. Darcy (Lesley Smith) is finally free of matrimony. But that puts her in the sights of jittery heartthrob Dax (Hilary Adams), who has a habit of using sex and her music career as a balm. Her other friends are there for guidance, but they too have some major distractions: “boozebag” Lucy (Jessica Marie Brown) is reeling from a breakup, Lauren (Nicole Steeves) is insecure about the wandering eye of Phoebe (Faly Mevamanana), and the two Julies (Stephanie Clarke, Kat McCormack) are glowingly pregnant but stagnant in the boudoir. Perennial lake activities—hiking, swimming, taking too much Molly—bring them together, while the weight of shared baggage threatens to sink their proverbial canoe. Writer-director Tara Thorne infuses Lakeview with the bite of her audacious revenge thriller Compulsus (I+N35, 2022), adding rat-a-tat-tat humour as she ping-pongs deftly between one crisis to another, charting the zippy chemistry and pliancy of true friendship.

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After Nino shows Iva the ropes, the two cable car drivers woo one another in increasingly ingenious ways. Day after day, the young women pass high above a quiet Georgian valley twisted with mist, cherishing each moment of connection. But when sweetness slides into sensuality, where will it send them? A man has died, his coffin carted above the village, and Iva (Mathilde Irrmann) inherits his crooked home and high-flying occupation. At first, villagers treat her with an enigmatic disdain, and she spends her days transporting customers and goods back and forth in disquiet, stealing glances at Nino (Nini Soselia). The flirtation grows as intense as their ongoing chess game, set to the rhythm of the rusted gears and their little kindnesses. Together, they will take on a surly widow (Niara Chichinadze) and lecherous boss (Zuka Papuashvili) as their courtship reaches new heights. Auteur Veit Helmer’s Gondola has the raw intensity of silent cinema and the enchanting whimsy of Amélie. Impelled by its beguiling leads and breathtaking cinematography, the film is a love letter to the countryside and those who live there, and an invitation to let your heart soar.

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When her self-help podcast asks her what she wishes to manifest, our hero realizes her desires are outgrowing her current relationship.

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A male teenager planning to come out to his father imagines different outcomes while portraying them in different cinematographic genres in his mind.

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Cole, a resilient transgender man, navigates his coming out journey within the confines of an all-girls school, while his mother confronts her own emotional struggles. Together, they learn to push societal norms and embrace the power of acceptance.

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This homage to Bollywood spectacle and intergenerational bonds is a time-hopping, candy-coloured crowd pleaser that induces huge smiles and big laughs while also tackling the resonant themes of enforced gender roles, passive racism, and the seismic shifts of growing up. Azra (a stunning Amrit Kaur) lives in cohabitating sexual bliss with her girlfriend in Toronto in the VHS-popping 90s when she receives news of her father’s death. One voltaic match cut later and she’s on a plane for the funeral in Pakistan with her brother (Ali A. Kazmi), where her mother (Ms. Marvel’s Nimra Bucha) nitpicks and her culture shuts her out of the mourning process. Then another and we’re in 1969 Karachi, swept up in the whirlwind romance of Azra’s rule-breaking mother (also played by Amrit Kaur, underscoring mother-daughter parallels) and dashing father (Hamza Haq) before their tough transition to 1989 Nova Scotia. Each temporal hop peeling back another layer of how Azra’s family dynamic came to be. The Queen of My Dreams is itself a moviegoer’s dream, chock-full of eye-popping visuals, high production value, and fantastic fashion. Revealing how salvation can come in unlikely ways from unlikely sources.

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A gay millennial reels after breaking-up with a popular influencer.

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One afternoon, three high school students sneak out of their all-girls Catholic boarding school. Sunny, the new girl, has gone for a swim in the river. Sarah is eager to join her, even though Clémence disapproves.

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Gilbert Mhanna is a queer Lebanese artist based in Toronto. His art is baladi, a dance traditionally reserved for cis women. Together, we'll explore the relationship of his Araboqueer body to this Canadian space. How does this country continue to flow through their veins?

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Torontonian Z, a transmasculine musical theatre performer, has NYC aspirations. The testosterone he’s on has other plans. Facing unpredictable losses and the foreign feeling of his changing body, Z forges connections that reveal how, sometimes, our favourite places are those we have yet to find. Meeting at now-defunct The Beaver, Z (co-writer/producer Breton Lalama) and Danielle (Khadijah Roberts-Abdullah) are smitten. Danielle supports him as he aims for stardom, but falls short: forced to become a barback bartender at Toronto mainstay Squirly’s after a disappointing audition. There, he’s taken under the wing of his cute, charismatic boss, Santi (Xavier Lopez), who knows a lot more about what he’s going through than Z realizes. Although Z can no longer hit Éponine’s notes in Les Misérables, with the help of his vocal coach (Ali Garrison) and a “dream world” goal, he reaches for a more compatible voice. And as we watch Z retrain, we witness actor Breton Lalama do the same in real time, both coming to terms with who they are becoming. Helmed by non-binary filmmaker J Stevens, this is incisive, richly detailed cinema afforded the flow of a life lived authentically.