October is normally a time for watching movies through your fingers, knowing something grim is about to happen. Ry Russo-Young’s new film, Nobody Walks, is no exception — except that at a horror movie, you’re guarding against images that are sure to be terrifying. In this intimate, quietly compelling indie drama, they’re mortifying.
That should come as no surprise after a quick glance at the writing credits for the film: Russo-Young co-wrote the film with Lena Dunham, the young writer-director of Tiny Furniture and the HBO series Girls, both of which trade in frank depictions of the more embarrassing and messy aspects of love and sex.
And it doesn’t get much messier than in Nobody Walks, a film in which everyone is lusting after the wrong person, and consummating those desires tends to lead to awkward — but not funny, unlike Dunham’s usual projects — disasters of various scales.
Continue reading the rest of my review over at NPR.
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