I Like Movies: Clerks Jr. with Feelings: A Love Letter to VHS and Awkward Youth

Put on your finest trench coat and prep your Tarantino references, because I Like Movies just hit Netflix, and if you’ve ever felt personally victimized by your own Letterboxd reviews, this one might hit you like a Criterion Collection to the face. Chandler Levack’s indie charmer (with a side of heartbreak) doesn’t reinvent the coming-of-age wheel—but it does roll it lovingly through a dusty video store aisle, knocking over some cherished cinephile nostalgia along the way.

Isaiah Lehtinen plays Lawrence Kweller with all the twitchy, arrogant charm of a teenage Paul Thomas Anderson stan hopped up on Pepsi and self-righteousness. Lawrence isn’t always likable (which is the point), but the movie smartly lets him stumble through his pretentious fog until he bumps into something resembling empathy. The kid’s a walking IMDb trivia page with the emotional intelligence of a brick, and Lehtinen makes you wanna smack him and hug him in equal measure—a pretty effective combo for a protagonist who’s learning that loving movies isn’t quite the same as caring people.

The story unfolds like a rejected Sundance submission that grew on you over time. We get the usual suspects: the loyal best friend growing distant, the disapproving mom with hidden depth, the mysterious older boss who’s more complicated than she first appears. And yeah, it can feel like a checklist at times. But credit where it’s due: the beats are played sincerely, and the film understands the tragic comedy of teen self-sabotage. Lawrence’s downward spiral (sparked by a video-editing feud) feels weirdly epic in his head, which is maybe the most accurate part of all.

Romina D’Ugo walks away with every scene as Alana, the no-nonsense Sequels manager who slowly reveals more emotional layers than the script initially suggests. She’s the kind of grounded adult presence that indie films usually flatten into a life lesson machine—but D’Ugo gives her real edge and melancholy. If Lawrence is the fever-dream version of a young Scorsese, Alana is the weary projectionist who’s seen one too many reels burn.

Now, is I Like Movies a great coming-of-age flick? Not exactly. It’s a good one, with flashes of greatness when it peels back the layers of Lawrence’s personality like old shrink wrap on a VHS. It doesn’t land every emotional punch—some subplots fizzle, and you might wish Matt and Lauren P had a bit more interiority beyond being obstacles on Lawrence’s Hero’s Journey. But the awkwardness feels earned, like it came from the journal of a real kid too obsessed with Rushmore to notice his life falling apart.

As a cinephile tribute, it’s endearing without getting too cutesy. The jokes about “Sequels” as a Blockbuster clone are on-point, and the film has enough respect for its obsession that it never feels like parody. There’s warmth here, even when the characters are making dumb choices. It’s like watching a teenager make a documentary about their emotional immaturity—with a killer soundtrack and excellent rack focusing.

Plot-wise, it meanders. Some threads—like Lawrence’s graduation video shame spiral—feel stretched thinner than a well-worn tape. But Levack’s direction keeps it snappy and grounded. The video store scenes have a tactile feel, almost like you can smell the stale popcorn and plastic clamshells. It’s the place you’d hang out in if your heart was broken and your soul needed a dose of Boogie Nights.

So here’s the deal: if you’re expecting cinematic transcendence, maybe stick to the Criterion shelf. But if you want a bright, awkward, bittersweet look at a kid who learns (slowly, painfully) that movies aren’t therapy—they’re just part of the conversation—then I Like Movies earns its B+. Popcorn not required, but highly recommended.