The 2025 Tribeca Festival has come to an end. As with every festival, there are highs and lows that can make or break the overall experience. This year’s edition delivered a strong lineup of highlights, with standouts like Oh, Hi!, Relay and Our Hero, Balthazar. That said, it wasn’t all rainbows and butterflies. Entries like Paradise Records disappointed and missed the mark.

So what worked? What didn’t? And where do these films ultimately land in the final roundup? Let’s dive in and find out.

Oh, Hi!

Premiering at the Sundance Film Festival, Sophie Brooks’ debut film was one of my most anticipated titles of the lineup. Seamlessly blending romantic comedy and phycological thriller, Oh, Hi is a rollercoaster of emotions, exploring love, loneliness and the fragile art of communication.

The tory follows Iris and Isaac as they escape to a remote getaway for what appears to be a blissful, romantic weekend. Filled with car ride duets, candlelight dinners and intimate moments, it seems their relationship is poised to reach new depths. But when a revelation surfaces, what begins as romance quickly unravels into chaos, complete with manipulation, emotional outbursts and handcuffs.

The film’s biggest strength lies in the magnetic chemistry between Molly Gordon and Logan Lerman. Gordon’s unhinged energy pairs perfectly with Lerman’s calm restraint, grounding both their dynamic and believable tension. Even in the most emotionally tense moments, Gordon’s comedic timing is razor-sharp, making the films most absurd beats land with laugh out loud impact.

While Sophie Brook’s direction is confident throughout, the screenplay loses focus in the third act, tipping into exaggerated and implausible territory that undercuts the emotional payoff. Still, Oh, Hi! remains a widely entertaining genre blend, an ideal date night pick that’s not afraid to get messy.

Relay

David Mackenzie’s Hell or High Water remains one of my favorite modern westerns of the last decade. The 2016 film earned a spot among my top films of the year thanks to its sharp direction, tight screenplay, and strong focus on character. It cemented Mackenzie as a director to watch. While screenwriter Taylor Sheridan has continued to thrive on the small screen, Mackenzie has remained largely absent, as it has been seven years since his last feature.

That’s why Relay quickly became one of my most anticipated films at this year’s Tribeca Festival. For much of its runtime, Relay delivered on that anticipation as it was, for three-quarters of its duration, the best film of the festival. However, it stumbles at the finish line, turning what could have been a triumphant return into a welcome yet frustrating one for Mackenzie.

Relay follows Ash, a reclusive fixer who brokers covert exchanges between whistleblowers and corporations. When complications arise with his latest client, Sarah Grant, Ash is forced out of the shadows, putting not only her safety at risk but also his own. The film’s strength lies in Mackenzie’s patient, deliberate direction. He builds tension through a slow burn, trusting the audience to stay with him. The city itself becomes a character, and the clever use of relay phone systems and fragmented communication adds to the film’s atmosphere, constructing the narrative puzzle piece by piece with quiet effectiveness.

That directorial confidence is matched by Riz Ahmed’s controlled and commanding performance. He doesn’t speak a word in the film’s first 25 minutes, yet his presence is magnetic. His eyes and body language say more than dialogue ever could, and when he finally does speak, the impact is undeniable. Lily James is also strong, adding to the film’s ongoing sense of paranoia, but make no mistake: this is Ahmed’s film through and through.

Unfortunately, Relay loses its footing in the final act. While a good twist can elevate a film, the one presented here feels unearned and illogical. It halts the film’s momentum, raises more questions than it answers, and undermines much of the carefully built suspense. It’s a jarring misstep in an otherwise tightly controlled film.

Still, despite that stumble, Relay stands as a thought-provoking and engaging return for Mackenzie. If not for its clunky twist, Relay might have entered the conversation as one of the best films of 2025’s first half.

Our Hero, Balthazar

What made this year’s Tribeca Festival unique was its P&I (Press and Industry) schedule. In previous years, multiple screenings for most films made it easier to navigate the lineup. But in 2025, the limited scheduling forced tough decisions—what to see, and what to skip. Fortunately, the right call was rewarded with breathtaking cinema, and the best decision of my festival journey was attending the screening of Our Hero, Balthazar. A standout among this year’s offerings, it easily ranks as the best narrative feature of the festival. Marking the directorial debut of Oscar Boyson, Our Hero, Balthazar is a bold, emotionally complex film that confronts privilege, social media performance, incel culture, and violence in America.

The story centers on Balthazar, a wealthy New Yorker who manufactures fake tears for social media clout. Hoping to impress a progressive classmate, he ends up connecting with Solomon, a deeply troubled teenager exhibiting signs of a potential school shooter. As their paths intertwine, the film delves into their contrasting realities and the volatile consequences of attention seeking behavior and alienation.

Oscar Boyson and Ricky Camilleri’s screenplay skillfully navigates the blurred lines between authenticity and performance, while examining the divides of class and emotional security. Balthazar’s immaturity and self-absorption provoke frustration rather than sympathy, whereas Solomon emerges as a more vulnerable, damaged figure. One has every advantage yet lacks direction; the other is searching for meaning in isolation. With sharp satire and a simmering sense of dread, Our Hero, Balthazar becomes a gripping study of two very different but equally desperate young men.

Balthazar is anchored by two dynamic performances from Jaeden Martell and Asa Butterfield. In what may be considered career best work from both actors, Martell captures the emotional emptiness and naïveté of a privileged youth, while Butterfield brings a relentless vulnerability and a deep yearning to be heard from those around him. When the two share the screen, their chemistry is raw and undeniable.

Our Hero, Balthazar is not an easy watch, and its relentless intensity may alienate some viewers, but it’s a powerful work of social critique that demands to be seen. The film not only interrogates what it means to be a “hero” in our social media driven age, but it also explores essential questions about authenticity and empathy. 

Paradise Records

I’ve never hidden the fact that Kevin Smith is not just one of my favorite directors, but also the biggest inspiration behind the creation of this website. Most of his films are sacred texts to me, with Clerks standing as one of the most beloved in his filmography. While many have tried to imitate Clerks, none have done so with Smith himself attached as a producer. With his involvement and Logic making his directorial debut, there was genuine hope that Paradise Records might recapture the lightning-in-a-bottle success that Clerks achieved 30 years ago.

Unfortunately for Logic and cinephiles alike, Paradise Records spends so much time trying to channel nostalgia and pay homage to Clerks that it fails to carve out an identity of its own. It’s a textbook example of a “poor man’s Clerks“, a film that never builds narrative momentum or delivers emotional stakes strong enough to justify its existence.

Paradise Records follows a day in the life of Cooper, a record store owner on the verge of losing his business. As he struggles to save the store and the livelihoods of his employees, Cooper faces off against a corporate businessman, gets caught in a hostage situation, and confronts a personal reckoning, all in the span of one chaotic day.

Written by Logic, the screenplay’s reliance on forced shock value is evident from the start. Where Clerks feels natural and effortless, Paradise Records constantly insists on its relevance. The jokes rarely land, and by the 30-minute mark, the humor has already grown tiresome. Due to its weak script, the film never gives its characters the space to earn emotional arcs, often leaving them feeling surface-level rather than nuanced.

Not even the cameos, featuring Jay and Silent Bob, Joseph Gordon-Levitt, and Ron Perlman add any real nostalgia, aside from prompting the question of what they were paid to be involved in this mess. For anyone searching for a modern-day Clerks, my advice is simple: just rewatch Kevin Smith’s Clerks, you’ll thank me later.