F.L.Y. is a funny slice-of-life movie about Max and Rafael, former partners, forced to quarantine together during the COVID pandemic. They haven't seen each other in five years, and now Rafael has a new boyfriend. With the added twist of Rafael pursuing a dream of becoming a drag superstar in LA, their reunion gets off to a bumpy start.
It’s not often that one finds a work of LGBTQ+ cinema that intentionally (and successfully) incorporates material related to personal growth and development, especially within the unlikely context of a romantic comedy-drama. However, actor-writer-directors Trent Kendrick and Rafael Albarran have done just that in their debut feature about two former partners (Kendrick and Albarran) whose envisaged brief reunion after many years apart suddenly and unexpectedly thrusts them together into an exercise in quarantining in place at the start of the COVID-19 pandemic. Their unplanned cohabitation leads to both a look back and a look forward as they jointly and individually review where they were and now where they’re going in their respective new lives. That experience subsequently prompts considerable soul searching as they each seek to come to terms with their true selves as individuals and what that may hold for the future, both for themselves and in relation to one another. In the process, they experience a variety of shifts in perspective as they come to discover themselves, often aided by an array of colorful supporting players from their present and past. And their odyssey is further fueled by a wide range of unusual and often-hilarious experiences, some related to the pandemic, some related to gay life, some tied to the world of drag and gender identity, some based on individual aspirations, and some reflected through recollections shown in flashbacks. The result is an appealing, heartwarming slice of life tale that combines all of the foregoing diverse narrative elements. Admittedly, there are times when these story components don’t always mesh quite as effectively as they might have, and the picture tends to get stretched out a little too much in the final act. But, generally speaking, these varied aspects harmonize well, providing a tale unlike what’s typically found in most LGBTQ+ or personal growth-oriented film offerings, an outcome that gay community members who have undergone their share of experiences of disappointment, disempowerment and heartbreak will find personally inspiring. And that point is nicely driven home when the acronym that accounts for this release’s title is at last explained (an uplifting notion that I won’t spoil by unduly revealing it here). “F.L.Y.” is an impressive debut from this writing and directorial duo, something that we can hope we’ll see more of in future projects.