Nothing makes me happier than when I can see pieces of myself in fictional characters. It makes me feel like I'm not just an island floating about in the world by myself, but that I'm a part of the big picture. For all intents and purposes, Pariah is a fairly typical coming-of-age independent drama. However, I can't think of another film that explores what it's like to be a part of this demographic, so even if it isn't original in terms of the film-making, it fills an important gap. I also can't think of another film that so closely mirrored the tug-of-war I went through with my parents as we all tried to come to terms with the fact that…

The camera shakes and weaves, awkwardly bobs around people, leaving their faces lost, leaving their bodies distorted and unfocused, leaving everything indistinct. The lights are tints of blue and red and orange, filters like the Internet, cold even in their warmest moments, shadows and neon, dating this in the now. New York looks like New York anyway; you recognize it anywhere. Adapero Oduye tells more of the story through the way she holds her body, through the way her face fills the frame, through the way she pulls off her girlclothes as if they were toxic, through the way she flinches nervously from tender touch, through how she performs than the quivering camera or the natural dialogue. Through her, we…