Gothamite Film Fest 2024-2025
Surge of Power: Where There’s Smoke
Film Review: Surge of Power: Where There’s Smoke
Directed by Vincent J. Roth, Jeff Rector, Mario DeAngelis
The latest installment in the *Surge of Power* series, *Where There’s Smoke*, delivers yet another action-packed, star-studded experience for superhero fans. The film brings together a cast of beloved faces from the worlds of science fiction and superhero lore, offering both spectacle and nostalgia for those who love to see iconic characters from past franchises join forces.
In this chapter, Surge, our main hero, teams up with The Smoke, played by former pro wrestler Eric Moran, to unravel a conspiracy led by the villainous organization known as The Council. Along the way, they face off against the mysterious and tragic figure, Falling Apple, a woman driven by a need for vengeance due to her troubled past. As the plot unravels, Surge receives guidance from Omen, whose role is shared by the late Nichelle Nichols (best known for her portrayal of Lt. Uhura in *Star Trek*) and Robert Picardo (The Doctor from *Star Trek: Voyager*). This gives the film a lovely tribute to sci-fi fans who remember these legends.
The ensemble cast further impresses with appearances from Bruce Vilanch as Janus, Shannon Farnon voicing MAVIS (the Wonder Woman of the *Super Friends* cartoon), and Joseph Culp as Spade, the same role he played in the 1996 *Fantastic Four* film. Newcomers such as Tim Russ (Tuvok from *Star Trek: Voyager*), Sam J. Jones (Flash Gordon), and Stephanie Ahn (Falling Apple) bring fresh energy to the expanding *Surge of Power* universe, ensuring a wide range of characters and personalities that can appeal to any viewer.
The film’s dynamic focus is on character-driven moments as much as it is on the action. At its core, *Where There’s Smoke* isn’t just about superhero battles and outlandish powers; it’s about people working together to overcome the odds and heal from the scars of their past. The troubled backstory of Falling Apple, shaped by trauma and loss, provides a gripping emotional anchor amidst the chaos of superhero antics.
The direction, led by Roth, Rector, and DeAngelis, allows the balance of humor, action, and heartfelt moments to shine. There’s an undeniable charm in how they infuse each scene with lighthearted fun while weaving in messages of hope and resilience. The film thrives in its celebration of both the genre and the heroes that make it unforgettable.
What *Where There’s Smoke* does particularly well is its ability to entertain without taking itself too seriously. It’s a throwback to the campy fun of classic superhero TV shows and movies, while still offering enough modern-day thrills to keep the audience invested. It’s a film made for fans of the genre and those who appreciate the playful side of superhero storytelling.
In conclusion, *Surge of Power: Where There’s Smoke* continues the franchise's legacy of blending nostalgia with fresh faces and compelling storylines. The film is an enjoyable ride for fans of both the superhero and sci-fi genres, thanks to its cast of beloved stars, engaging narrative, and genuine heart. The franchise is proving that there’s still much more to explore in the *Surge of Power* universe, and *Where There’s Smoke* sets the stage for even more exciting adventures ahead.
BALDY The Film
Film Review: Baldy The Film
Directed by Eddie Griffith | Written by Melvin Taylor II
In *Baldy*, a refreshingly heartfelt and sharply funny dramedy short, filmmaker Melvin Taylor II turns a deeply personal crisis into a universally resonant exploration of identity, masculinity, and self-acceptance. Set against the vibrant backdrop of New York City, the film follows Travis—a charismatic 29-year-old man whose youthful confidence takes a hit when his hairline begins a slow but steady retreat.
While hair loss might seem like an unlikely foundation for compelling drama, *Baldy* deftly proves otherwise. With sensitivity and wit, it presents Travis’s journey not as a shallow vanity crisis, but as a poignant reckoning with aging, vulnerability, and societal expectations—especially for Black men whose appearances are often scrutinized through the lens of cultural and generational identity.
Melvin Taylor II’s performance as Travis is endearing and deeply grounded. He brings both comedic timing and emotional nuance to a character whose spiraling self-consciousness often borders on the absurd—but never loses our empathy. Whether he’s navigating awkward barbershop banter with the elusive Reggie (played hilariously by Saint Aubyn) or dodging public hat removals like covert ops, Travis’s journey is painted with charm and sincerity.
The film benefits immensely from its ensemble cast. Milbelynn Soto’s Mariah brings warmth and balance, while Sam Deleon’s Brian and Vivek Netrakanti’s Vivek offer the kind of well-meaning roast that only true friends can give. There’s a distinct camaraderie among the cast that adds richness to even the most casual scenes—moments of joy, tension, and healing that reflect the way men, particularly Black men, often navigate insecurity through humor, banter, and unspoken support.
Director Eddie Griffith’s vision finds strength in intimacy and relatability. He avoids melodrama and instead leans into naturalistic storytelling, punctuated with surreal, comedic visual flourishes that reflect Travis’s internal panic. The cinematography by Erin Trout is energetic yet tender, reflecting the duality of the city’s bustle and Travis’s inner stillness. Trout’s lens moves fluidly through barbershops, brownstones, and late-night stoops, visually grounding the story in a community that feels lived-in and real.
What sets 'Baldy' apart is its ability to shift the lens on a “small” problem—hair loss—and reveal the very large emotional terrain it covers. For men, especially young men of color, hairlines aren’t just aesthetic. They’re tied to perceptions of youth, desirability, control, and masculinity. Taylor’s script smartly taps into this often-unspoken vulnerability while encouraging viewers to laugh with, not at, the struggle.
The film’s crowdfunded, strike-era origins add another layer of meaning. Created during a time when Hollywood was largely on pause, *Baldy* is an act of creative resistance. It’s a testament to what happens when artists take the reins and tell their own stories—unvarnished, specific, and joyful in their authenticity.
'Baldy' is a sharp, soulful, and timely short film that unpacks the quiet chaos of change with a perfect blend of humor and heart. Anchored by a stellar lead performance and a strong creative vision, it reminds us that sometimes the road to self-love starts with removing your hat—and maybe a little pride.
Moments of Youth
Film Review: Moments of Youth
Directed by Gregory Pellerito
Moments of Youth feels like the kind of movie you didn’t realize you missed until you’re halfway through it—and suddenly you’re smiling, laughing, and maybe even getting a little misty-eyed.
Set over the course of one electric night before graduation, Gregory Pellerito’s feature debut captures that fleeting moment when everything still feels possible. The senior class of Winthrop Creek High embarks on a scavenger hunt with a massive prize on the line, but what starts as harmless fun quickly becomes something deeper. Beneath the jokes, secrets, and late-night chaos, the film reveals a group of young people quietly reckoning with a shared tragedy that has shaped them more than they realize.
Pellerito clearly understands why the great one-night teen films endure. There are echoes of Dazed and Confused, Ferris Bueller’s Day Off, and classic John Hughes energy here—but Moments of Youth never feels like a throwback for the sake of nostalgia. Instead, it plays like a time capsule of right now: fast, funny, loud, emotionally honest, and constantly in motion. The scavenger hunt structure gives the film momentum, but it’s the small, sincere character moments that land the hardest.
The ensemble cast shines, anchored by a mix of seasoned performers and youthful energy that feels authentic rather than manufactured. The chemistry is natural, the humor lands effortlessly, and when the film slows down to confront grief and growth, it does so without ever losing its heartbeat. Pellerito balances pace and feeling with confidence, crafting a film that’s just as comfortable being ridiculous as it is being vulnerable.
What really sets Moments of Youth apart is its sense of purpose. It’s fun—genuinely fun—but it’s also thoughtful, recognizing that growing up isn’t just about moving forward, but about processing what holds you back. By the time the night ends, you realize you haven’t just watched a party or a game—you’ve watched a group of young people take their first real step into adulthood.
It’s easy to see why the film has resonated on the festival circuit and picked up so many awards. Moments of Youth isn’t just a coming-of-age story—it’s a reminder of how powerful one night, one memory, or one shared experience can be. And it marks Gregory Pellerito as a filmmaker with both heart and a clear understanding of why these stories still matter.
Moments of Youth
Film Review: Wacthed
Directed by Evie Smith
Watched is one of those short films that quietly gets under your skin and lingers long after the screen goes dark. Simple in concept but emotionally sharp, it taps into a universally uncomfortable feeling: the moment you’re forced to really see yourself—and you don’t entirely like what you find.
Evie Smith’s film follows a struggling artist confronted by the physical embodiment of her own psyche, a girl wielding a video camera. What unfolds feels less like a traditional narrative and more like an intimate confrontation. The camera becomes both a mirror and an accuser, capturing the disconnect between who the protagonist thinks she is and who she’s become. It’s unsettling, awkward, and deeply honest in a way that feels almost invasive—but intentionally so.
Smith’s background in experimental filmmaking and film theory is evident, yet Watched never feels academic or detached. Instead, it’s grounded in emotion. The film uses restraint rather than excess, allowing silence, framing, and repetition to do the heavy lifting. Influences from filmmakers like Jane Schoenbrun and David Lynch can be felt in the atmosphere, but the voice remains distinctly Smith’s—introspective, humanist, and empathetic.
What makes Watched resonate is its compassion. While the confrontation at the heart of the film is uncomfortable, it isn’t cruel. The film understands that self-recognition can be painful, but it also suggests that growth often begins with that very discomfort. There’s a quiet tenderness in the way the film allows its protagonist to sit with that realization rather than rush past it.
As a filmmaker, Evie Smith demonstrates a rare confidence in letting an idea breathe. Watched doesn’t explain itself or seek easy resolutions. Instead, it trusts the audience to reflect alongside its subject. It’s a small film with a big emotional footprint—and a strong statement from a director clearly unafraid to turn the camera inward and ask difficult, necessary questions.
Bad therapist
Film Review: Bad therapist
Directed by Murisa Harba
Bad Therapist is a darkly funny, sharply observed series that manages to be as messy, awkward, and unpredictable as real life itself. From the moment Riley Addison is left in charge of the office while her boss disappears for a secret gambling binge, the chaos begins—and it never really stops. What unfolds is an exploration of addiction, friendship, and self-discovery, told with razor-sharp humor and a surprising tenderness.
Murisa Harba’s direction brings a seasoned theatrical and film sensibility to the series. She has a keen eye for the human moments tucked inside the absurdity: Riley’s struggles with sobriety are both heartbreaking and laugh-out-loud relatable, and the dynamic between her and her best friend, Molly, captures that messy, loving push-and-pull of real friendships. Every patient Riley encounters adds a new layer of unpredictability, and Harba handles it with confidence, ensuring the series never feels contrived or overly didactic.
The performances are exceptional, reflecting Harba’s background as an acting coach and choreographer. You can see her signature techniques in the way actors move, react, and inhabit their flawed, chaotic characters. There’s a natural rhythm to the show, a push-and-pull between comedy and drama, that keeps you engaged and invested in Riley’s journey.
What makes Bad Therapist stand out is its honesty. It doesn’t shy away from the discomfort of watching someone try—and often fail—to get their life together. Yet it finds the humor in that struggle, reminding us that reinvention is messy, complicated, and sometimes hilariously absurd. The series is a rare blend of heart, laughter, and real-world grit, and it leaves you rooting for Riley and her unpredictable, lovable crew long after the credits roll.
Murisa Harba has crafted a show that feels alive, imperfect, and utterly human—one that proves the best therapy may just be learning to laugh at yourself while figuring it all out.