Mud finds Jeff Nichols immersing himself completely in the complexities and rich subtext that he has hinted at in previous films to both greater and lesser impact. The film certainly has an authentic and truthful angle on the coming of age tale, and strives for a purity of that depiction above all else. This comes out in the jaw-droppingly great performances and the meticulously handled character and narrative development, however it loses some galvanising and electric punch that are so…

A sense of aimlessness and wandering seems to punctuate the entire experience of each character in this truly exquisite film. A group of black (and some white) kids and adults pass the time in their dwindling and weed washed town by falling in and out of love, wrastlin', arguing about nothing in particular and practically just existing in the moments as they pass. Some have information that they keep from others, some have desires they keep to themselves, but all…

Some really fantastic early performances and a wonderful demystification of the American teenage, urban experience of the period. This isn't milkshakes and jukeboxes, rather a desperate plea to fit in and survive in what is essentially a class war. Greasers cry over spilled milk (or blood in this case), and while this insight is refreshing, it's Coppola's treatment of the saccharine screenplay that really brings it down. His golden tones and heavy laden morality lessons poison what could have been…