Mutt (2023)
Feña, a young trans guy bustling through life in New York City, is afflicted with an incessantly challenging day that resurrects ghosts from his past.
Laundromats, subway turnstiles, and airport transfers are the hectic background to this emotional drama that overlaps past, present, and future. Settling the disharmony of transitional upheaval in relationships familial, romantic, and platonic is Feña’s task at hand, and his resulting juggling act is equal parts skillful, fumbling, and honest. In negotiating his obliqueness, the poignant moments he finds between himself and others – as the distance between them closes – are warm, true, and touching.
Vuk Lungulov-Klotz’s directorial debut is at once precise in its specificity and wholly relatable in its grand humanity. A dexterous, visceral lead performance by Lío Mehiel embodies inbetweenness in many forms. Mutt earns its most difficult discussions through its tenderness towards each character’s struggle with the complexity of trans life, Latinx life in America, and of human life at large.
