After leaving a mental hospital for a suicide attempt, Franklin (James Morosini) decides to set a boundary with his neglectful, estranged father, Chuck (Patton Oswalt), by going no contact with him. He blocks him on his phone and on social media, but Chuck can't handle being ignored or a clear-cut boundary. He creates a Facebook page to catfish his son while pretending to be Becca (Claudia Sulewski), a waitress from a local diner.

      Writer/director James Morisini deserves credit for a bold premise that's unafraid to make the audience feel uncomfortable and icky. Imagine a much more awkward version of Toni Erdmann and you'll have something along the lines of I Love My Dad. Toni Erdmann at least worked as a poignant character study about two flawed human beings. There's something lovable about the father in Toni Erdmann. He crosses boundaries, too, but not as much as Chuck does. The lengths that Chuck goes to reconnect with his son makes him come across as an emotionally immature, insecure, emotionally needy and very, very toxic creep. By catfishing his son and letting it go so far that his son falls in love with "Becca", he hurts his son as well as the real Becca who works at the diner. Just when you think the film won't go to a certain place with the concept, yes, it does go there: sexting. That scene alone can be interpeted as a form of emotional incest. It's not entertaining or funny, but the tonally uneven screenplay wants you to laugh uncomfortably. Anyone who has any empathy for Franklin won't be able to laugh at the pranks that Chuck pulls on his son. That's not love. That's not compassion. That's not healthy. Unfortunately, the screenplay tries to make you sympathize with Chuck despite him being the least sympathetic character on screen. He's not only a toxic parent, but a toxic lover and friend, too. His character arc isn't believable nor is his "apology" when he inevitably gets caught. There's no backstory about what his relationship with his own father was like, but it was probably toxic as well and he hasn't acknowledged or healed from the abuse yet. I Love My Dad shies away from digging deeper into the relationship between Franklin and Chuck or from getting inside the heart, mind and soul of either of them. How will Chuck's behavior affect Franklin's future relationships? The film doesn't really explore that important question. The third act takes a steep nosedive with an over-the-top scene at the diner where Chuck looks even more toxic, and another scene where Franklin seems just as childish and immature as his father. And he doesn't seem to have learned any lessons about how important it is for his emotional and mental well-being to stay "no contact" with such a toxic parent. As the saying goes, sometimes the apple doesn't fall very far from the tree.

      No matter how hard Patton Oswald tries to make the character of Chuck more likable with his charismatic and moving performance, he's unable to because of how consistently and irredeemably toxic Chuck comes across. James Morosini gives a decent performance as does Amy Landecker as Franklin's mother. Then there's the underrated Rachel Dratch who's very funny in her brief scenes with Patton Oswalt. More scenes with her wouldn't be great because she's a breath of fresh air, yet underused in the film. At a running time of 1 hour and 36 minutes, I Love My Dad is audacious, but tonally uneven, painfully unfunny and sophomoric.

      Mo Sanmei (Zhu Yilong), a funeral director, recently got released from prison. A young girl, Wu Xiaowen (Yang Enyou), meets Mo and his coworkers when they arrive at the home of her grandmother who died. Mo agrees to take care of Wu, and they soon bond with each other.

        Writer/director Jiangjiang Liu does a wonderful job of exploring their friendship. It's both fascinating and moving to observe how Mo and Wu's relationship evolves. Mo and Wu seem like they won't get along at first, but as they spend more time together, they become closer on an emotional level. He essentially becomes a surrogate father for her in a way that feels organic. Mo is the kind of character who seems tough, but on the inside, he's a good-natured person despite his flaws. He shows signs of empathy, compassion, love and kindness. When a woman shows up claiming to be Wu's biological mother, that's when the film becomes more complex and even a little bit suspenseful. The ways that Mo and Wu  affect one another is quite profound and deeply human, much like in the Academy Award-winning Russian film Kolya. Although,Lighting Up the Stars tackles the topic of death, like Departures, it's more about life, which, after all, death is a part of. There's a spiritual aspect to the film that's very enlightening and poetic without becoming preachy or cheesy. The ending, especially, leaves you feeling great while actually  earning the uplift. Most importantly, Mo and Wu's relationship feels authentic from start to finish, and the same can be said about their epiphanies and their characters' arcs.  

      Zhu Yilong gives convincingly moving performances that rings true. He and Yang Enyou have palpable chemistry together. In turn, don't be surprised if you can't help but root for Mo and Wu to spend more time together and for him to become a permanent father figure in her life. The film moves at just the right pace without a dull or sluggish moment. At a running time of 1 hour and 52 minutes, Lighting Up the Stars is a warm, tender and heartfelt story about friendship, grief and human connection. 

      Alex (Paloma Vauthier), a teenager, lives in Montreal with her mother, Maia (Rim Turki), and grandmother, Téta (Clémence Sabbagh). On Christmas Eve, they receive a box of photos and audio recordings that Maia had sent her friend, Liza Haber, during her teenage years while living in Lebanon. Maia would rather not open the box, and Téta stores it away, but Alex decides to open it and look through it to learn about her mother's childhood in Beirut.

      Memory Box is a quietly moving and tender story about a mother who gradually learns to face her traumatic past head-on. For years, Maia had bottled her memories of her friend, Liza, and her first lover, Raja (Hassan Akil), but when Liza dies many years later and sends her the memory box, it forces her to confront those memories. No matter how hard she tries, she can't erase those memories. At first, Alex looks through the box alone while listening to the audio recordings as the photos come to life. The screenplay by co-writers/directors Joana Hadjithomas and Khalil Joreige gradually reveals the backstory about Maia's life and what events made it hesitant to look at the past. Through the well-woven exposition, you gradually learn what Alex learns about her mother. Around the hour mark, the film changes perspectives and has Maiai recalling her memories through very vivid flashbacks. The way that those memories affect Maia is what makes Memory Box so fascinating. In a way, it's a coming-of-age-story for her as she looks back at those times with a more mature and wise perspective. It's not easy for her. Fortunately, the filmmakers see and treat her as a human being. There's one scene that almost veers toward melodrama when Maia yells at Alex when she sees her with the memory box, but it's not quite enough to turn the film into a soap opera which could've happened with a less sensitive screenplay. The film also avoids schmaltz without avoiding sentiment. By confronting her past, Maia is able to move forward, so Memory Box offers that valuable life lesson without being preachy. To watch Maia grow as a human being while she processes her emotions and experiences an epiphany and catharsis is a genuinely uplifting joy to behold.

      Paloma Vauthier and Rim Turki both give heartfelt performances as a mother and daughter. Turkie, in particular, handles the emotionally complex aspects of her role very convincingly with just the right amount of nuance during the third act. Most impressively, though, the cinematography adds both visual style as well substance during the flashbacks. One of the flashbacks as the younger Maia (Manal Issa) rides on the back of a motorcycle with her lover while bombs explode around them is mesmerizing, haunting, poetic and exhilarating. The use of different visual mediums, i.e. cellphone footage from the present day, to tell the story is quite creative and helps to invigorate the film concurrently. At a running time of 1 hour and 42 minutes, Memory Box is a genuinely poignant, profound and captivating emotional journey.