Riley

This movie started very slowly and was immediately clockable as super tropey. The actors do a good job but they're not believable high schoolers in the slightest. Cinematography was good, but the shots did feel a bit stale. It felt very heartstoppery but without the cute music, animation, and casting. The dialogue also felt a bit out of touch, but the storyline was ok once you get over already knowing what'll happen (pattern recognition). The ending is what I have the most problems with, felt completely unfinished. The first hour was soooo long and the ending so rushed. I'm not asking for another RW&RB but the plot leaves a lot up to question. I think this could have been a great movie but it's just ok.

The coming of age and coming out drama must be difficult to inject with freshness; and to give the creators of this one, they tried. Not many of these kinds of movies concentrate on the main character's internal struggle, as opposed to the reactions of the people around them. The problem is that Riley, the main character, isn't fleshed out enough to engage the viewer. His struggle is primarily expressed by Riley having a pained expression on his face when in emotionally fraught circumstances. This makes the film slow going, since not much develops from these situations before it's time for the next scene where nothing much develops. After this endless repetition, it's finally time for him to have his epiphany in a series of scenes that feel rushed and contrived.

All in all, a well executed movie based on lackluster material.

Not the greatest LGBT film ever made, but it's certainly not the worst I've seen either. But it was fair.

Riley has a really good premise, and though it tells a coming-of-age story where the characters discover and question their sexuality, which we see all the time, we finally a story that we don't really see too often, and that's from the world of athletics. Very rarely have I seen a movie or TV show feature a character, a high school character, who is athletic and a football athlete. Athletics is a touchy subject, especially football, as its always protrayed as this macho man environment where only straight people play. We know for a fact that gay athletes exist, and it's refreshing to see a story from that perspective that highlights some of their struggles, too.

As a whole, the actors did a pretty good job of portraying their characters and emphasizing their feelings. It was a bit cringy at times, with some of the acting not feeling entirely real, but this isn't a blockbuster film production so I didn't go into this movie with that expectation.

My biggest complaint is the age gap of the 'high school' actors. Having 25-27-year-old actors play 17-18-year-old kids isn't too realistic, and it was too obvious watching the movie that the actors did not fit the age of their characters. Instead of a high school-based film, they would have been better suited to play college kids, and it would have been much more believable. But I get that it would alter the story too much, mainly because of how Riley revolves around the character's athletic future and college aspirations.

Riley is a striking and emotionally honest film that captures the quiet intensity of adolescent self-discovery against the backdrop of small-town high school football. Centered on Dakota, a young queer athlete navigating the inner turmoil of identity, expectation, and masculinity, the film is a raw, thoughtfully crafted coming-of-age story that resonates far beyond its central theme.

Director Benjamin Howard delivers a restrained but powerful vision, with cinematography that mirrors Dakota's emotional landscape. A subdued color palette and well-executed video cuts evoke the weight of unspoken conflict, keeping the viewer closely tethered to the characters' emotional worlds. This visual language never distracts-it enhances, lending an authenticity that feels both personal and universal.

What sets Riley apart is its refusal to simplify the complexity of queer identity within hypermasculine spaces. Dakota's journey is at once deeply personal and quietly political. The film not only chronicles his internal struggle but also explores how his teammates, peers, and coaches wrestle with their own ingrained assumptions about masculinity, sexuality, and vulnerability. This shared discomfort-awkward, tender, sometimes brutal-gives the film its emotional charge.

Performances across the board are understated and affecting, with Dakota's portrayal offering a compelling mix of restraint and emotional depth. The ensemble cast, particularly the young men around him, bring nuance to roles that might otherwise fall into stereotype. Instead, Riley presents a spectrum of responses to difference-ranging from quiet acceptance to confusion, shame, and eventual growth.

While queer audiences will find much to identify with in Dakota's story, Riley speaks to a broader truth about adolescence, identity, and the longing to be seen. It's a film that will resonate not only with queer viewers but with anyone who has carried the weight of expectation during the formative, often isolating, years of youth-especially those shaped by the pressures of competitive sports.

Verdict: Riley is a beautifully rendered, emotionally resonant portrait of identity and resilience. With sensitivity and strength, it sheds light on the silent struggles behind the facades of toughness and conformity. A must-watch for anyone who's ever felt caught between who they are and who the world expects them to be.