With documentaries exploring very recent events, filmmakers can source all the relevant footage and interviews needed in a short period of time. But conventional wisdom suggests that the longer you spend grappling with your subject, the greater the delivery of your message. That said, the urgency of an ongoing issue can far outweigh the merits of sticking to standard journalistic practices.

A faster turnaround was necessary for Kei Pritsker and Michael T Workman’s The Encampments, which arrives barely a year after the specific student protests that it covers. The film’s main focus is the Gaza Solidarity Encampment on Columbia University’s lawn in April 2024, pressuring the New York City university to divest from companies manufacturing weapons used by Israel that target and kill Palestinians – two of the main organising groups were Jewish Voice for Peace and Students for Justice in Palestine.

This engrossing documentary tracks organisers at Columbia as they’re thrust into the spotlight during their fight for divestment, facing congressional pressure, abuse from Zionist counter-protestors and, eventually, violent police repression, though not before they’ve helped to encourage a wave of further encampments at other universities. Presenting a far more clarifying and empathetic document of the peaceful protesters’ activities and rationale than was ever permitted during the media firestorm that ensued, The Encampments proves essential as an exposé on wild distortion of messaging and the betrayal of institutions’ promoted values.

The film bears no signs of being a rushed job. But if the directors had sat on it for longer, the barely 80-minute feature would likely have greatly expanded in length thanks to still-unfolding developments. Among the events laid out in addendums before the end credits is that in March 2025, ICE agents, acting under orders of the Department of Homeland Security and presenting no warrant, abducted Mahmoud Khalil from his New York home, putting him into immediate deportation proceedings despite Khalil being a permanent US resident with no criminal charges.

An Algerian citizen of Palestinian descent, Khalil is one of the more frequent and warmly engaging on-camera presences in The Encampments, having been a lead negotiator in the Columbia protests. At time of writing, Khalil is still in detention but getting op-eds out regarding the breakneck erosion of his rights. By the time this review runs, his fate as an American resident could still be undetermined as the Trump administration continues attacking civil rights, the groundwork having been laid by the Biden administration’s encouragement of crackdown on peaceful protests against genocide and ethnic cleansing.

Yet there is hope: Gazan journalist Bisan Owda is among the talking heads, given appropriate space in the film’s moving closing moments to reflect on the rippling global awakening concerning freedom for the Palestinian people; on the importance of feeling, regardless of how gradually, that they are not alone.

To keep celebrating the craft of film, we have to rely on the support of our members. Join Club LWLies today and receive access to a host of benefits.

Join­ing host Leila Latif are David Jenk­ins, Sophie Monks Kauf­man and Ele­na Lazic.

Truth & Movies is the pod­cast from the film experts at Lit­tle White Lies, where along with select­ed col­leagues and friends, they dis­cuss the lat­est movie releas­es. Truth & Movies has all your film needs cov­ered, review­ing the lat­est releas­es big and small, talk­ing to some of the most excit­ing film­mak­ers, keep­ing you across impor­tant indus­try news, and reassess­ing great films from days gone by with the Truth & Movies Film Club.

Email: truthandmovies@​tcolondon.​com

BlueSky and Insta­gram: @LWLies

Pro­duced by TCO

The course of true love nev­er did run smooth, and for the kind but clue­less Carey (Kyle Mar­vin) he’s in for a rude awak­en­ing. His wife of 13 months, whom he met at a con­cert for soft-rock croon­ers The Fray, has just announced she wants a divorce. Ash­ley (Adria Arjona) is a free-spir­it­ed life coach, and just can’t see a future with Carey, despite his clear ado­ra­tion of her. He seeks solace from his wealthy friends Paul (Michael Ange­lo Covi­no) and Julie (Dako­ta John­son) who reveal the secret to their own seem­ing­ly har­mo­nious rela­tion­ship: an open mar­riage. Paul and Julie the­o­rise that in remov­ing the shame asso­ci­at­ed with cheat­ing, they give them­selves no rea­son to break up. At first Carey is sur­prised, but he quick­ly comes around to the idea. After all – it seems to be work­ing for Paul and Julie. Right…?!

Mar­vin and Covi­no are real life best friends (who also wrote and starred in 2019’s The Climb togeth­er) so it fig­ures their on-screen chem­istry is nat­ur­al and charm­ing, but the bud­dies quick­ly come to blows when Carey gets him­self mixed up in Paul’s mar­riage, and a ludi­crous fight scene between the two of them in Paul’s archi­tec­tural­ly splen­did lake house is an ear­ly high­light of the film. There’s less chem­istry between the actors and their on-screen wives, despite the fact Arjona and John­son are quite con­vinc­ing come­di­ans. It’s nev­er real­ly clear what these beau­ti­ful, savvy women see in Carey and Paul, par­tic­u­lar­ly the lat­ter, who repeat­ed­ly proves him­self to be at best a lia­bil­i­ty, at worst a psy­chopath – which is shrugged off as endear­ing by his friends and wife, as is the behav­iour of their tear­away child Russ who keeps steal­ing jet skis and get­ting in trou­ble at school.

It’s a high­ly macho sort of roman­tic com­e­dy pos­ing as pro­gres­sive by show­ing two sex­u­al­ly lib­er­at­ed mod­ern women, but we don’t real­ly ever get much insight into their char­ac­ters beyond the fact that their pur­suit of oth­er part­ners stems from a lack of sat­is­fac­tion rather than, y’know, just want­i­ng to live their lives. Despite its sup­posed pro­gres­sive premise about the way mod­ern rela­tion­ships can work, Splitsville is in fact quite tra­di­tion­al by its con­clu­sion, ren­der­ing most of the plot ulti­mate­ly a waste of time. It’s a film not with­out occa­sion­al moments of spark, and flits along quite hap­pi­ly, but Splitsville seems con­tin­u­al­ly intent on under­min­ing itself, and in the process becomes total­ly forgettable.