Dir.: Lena Dunham, 98 min.
Is this the one? The one that can explore that post-collegiate coming-of-age restlessness and frustration without falling to twee overdramatics? (“This song will change your life,” anyone?) On the surface, it looks like another intolerable, all too familiar urban, upper-middle class “woe is me” dig-this-ennui failure that clogs Netflix instant watch. But judging from the trailer — and the Best Narrative Film Award it bagged at SXSW — expect a bitingly funny film from a young, female Woody Allen (the 23-year -old Dunham tackles the writer/director/lead trifecta). As a recent film theory graduate, Aura returns to her artist mother’s Tribeca loft, gets stuck in a hostess job and hops in bed, a bit awkwardly, with an egotistic coworker. It seems the widespread verdict is the same as mine: don’t judge a movie by (the font on its) cover.
“Tiny Furniture” plays at 5:15 p.m. in Riverdale screen #8.