Invention

Stephens and cinematographer Rafael Palacio Illingworth give the world of “Invention” an appropriately somber color palette and painterly compositions, sometimes from the distance of a curious observer, to create a mournful tone.

“Invention” is committed to finding its own wavelength.

Courtney Stephens’s film blends fiction and autobiography to fascinating implications.

With startling views of unspoiled nature, Stephens evokes vestiges of the philosophies of Emerson and Thoreau surviving the din of modern media.

This is an open-hearted, playful and perceptive film that does achieve its own sort of magic in seeing just how far you can test the boundaries between metafiction and explicit documentary.

Somewhere between Mubi-core essay film, autobiopic, and narrative filmmaking, Courtney Stephens’ Invention feels fresh and groundbreaking in a way that few films can manage, while still never feeling gimmicky.


Lethargic, unimaginative and underwhelming while ultimately less than the sum of its parts.

Invention is the kind of film that some will find absolutely fascinating and others will write off as a tedious and pointless slog—I find myself siding with the former in this regard.

The widespread loneliness epidemic that was born from the worldwide health pandemic is wreaking havoc on everyone, and Invention is one mesmerizing way of processing it.

With the line between fact and fiction so blurred these days, Invention sets the right tone for the moment. A creative mix of documentary and drama, the hybrid film definitely lives up to its name and may be the start of a fascinating new genre.