The Young Wife

A movie about what we ask of young people when these take these large steps towards their future, and to respect how hard it's going to be -- and it does that will a lot of style.

Warm hearts and cooling feet is nothing new for movies, of course, but Kiersey Clemons’ portrayal of Celestina -- her head spinning -- raises the stakes of love and liberty.

These are familiar, even hackneyed themes, which make the film’s relentless theatrics feel gratuitous and somewhat exhausting. Style overpowers substance, though Poe’s fantastic eye for composition and Clemons’s vivacious screen presence are undeniable.

Watching “The Young Wife” is an immersive, often overwhelming experience, a whirlwind of well-meaning but stressful characters mobbing the camera and speaking at such an anxiety-inducing speed that you forget to breathe for a second.

The Young Wife can be a chaotic experience, but Poe has the skills to carry us through the noise and toward the future.

The Young Wife is hardly a conventional wedding movie, but one that grants a different kind of chilling significance to that life decision. It all feels like getting drawn in to a nightmare that hasn't yet started.

This dramedy is a kaleidoscope of colors, patterns, glitter, shapes, and noise, a visual and audible representation of Celestina's internal panic and confusion about what to do with her life and her relationship.

Poe is developing into a clear-eyed storyteller, whose films are about something real and tangible and unafraid of mess.


An ambitious, maximalist vision that expresses personal turmoil as global catastrophe.

As you get caught up in [Tayarisha Poe's] words and stunning visuals, you begin to fall under the grip of a filmmaker who wields her camera frame with the intent of affecting her audience in a way that sneaks up on you that is holistic and honest.