The Fabelmans

Sammy Fabelman loves cinema. Together with his friends and family he makes small amateur films and dreams of becoming a director. But then, through his hobby, he uncovers a nasty secret from his loved ones that makes him rethink everything he's ever known. Steven Spielberg delivers a semi-autobiographical story that is moving, funny and above all believable. And while it's also nostalgic and melancholy, it never feels cloying. An honest and audience-friendly drama from a storyteller who understands his job damn well. (11/24/2022)

Those who love filmmaking will love The Fabelmans. Spielberg is still in superb form, and it's hardly a surprise that if anyone should tell his life story, it can only be him. A beautiful, sensitive, witty, and moving film that is undoubtedly one of the best of the year. When Spielberg retires, anyone watching this film (remembering all his blockbusters) will be able to tell that it was all worth it. (01/11/2023)

Grand shots of intimate life struggles and little scenes in which the most important things happen. Steven Spielberg has perhaps never built his classic family backdrops so high, illuminated with all manner of imaginary spotlights, and focused his attention solely on them. What's more, Janusz Kamiński's playful camera loves the landscape, architecture, and people so sincerely that The Fabelmans speaks to me in a much more optimistic language than you would expect from the story and some of its twists. (02/21/2023)

The Fabelmans is masterfully shot story of film and family that alternates between moments of extraordinary feeling, in which Spielberg manages to depict big things on an intimate scale, and a slightly banal compilation of familiar motifs and tried-and-true pearls of wisdom. I was moved by the film a few times, particularly the moments involving the magnificent duo of Dano and Williams, and when the boyish enthusiasm of amateur films is presented in such a way that it evokes in viewers the feeling that they are watching something almost miraculous. The Fabelmans portrays the medium of film as a double-edged sword that is capable of both healing and ruthlessly inflicting wounds. The film contains a touch of slight yet aching melancholy that doesn’t come across as mushy; Spielberg is still surehanded in that respect. Despite that, however, there is something banally transitory and too comfortable in all of these nice images, as the anecdotal ending demonstrates. The strongest impression is thus left by the relationship between Sam and his parents, which mirrors the pain and loneliness of Spielberg’s child characters. I feel great respect and mild emotion for this film, but unfortunately also doubt as to whether it will actually leave me with more than a fleeting sense of enchantment. (11/21/2022)

Steven Spielberg is back to what he does best: a sensitively told, character-driven family drama about the magic of discovering something magical, here personified by cinema itself. This two-and-a-half-hour film manages to be almost perfectly engrossing and absorbing, yet it has two creative decisions that leave me wondering. For one thing, I don't understand why the lead actor had to wear dark contact lenses for the entire film, it made his eyes look as dead as those of the shark in Jaws and I think it sabotaged an otherwise very eager performance by the young Gabriel LaBelle. And then the idea (spoiler) that a pompous anti-Semitic bullying asshole would, by the magic of the movie medium, go to his victim and not only apologise, but have an emotional breakdown over his own emptiness – the most naive and nauseating thing I've seen at the cinema this year. These two things are all the more infuriating because they could have been easily avoided. However, despite those reservations, I was satisfied, and especially in the short scenes, when veterans Judd Hirsch and David Lynch are given space and well-written roles, I had a contented smile on my face. (12/07/2022)