We Grown Now

It's dreamlike but always rooted in a recognizable reality.

The two young actors are fantastic. The film truly lies on their delicate shoulders. And they soar to the challenge, mouthing lines that feel out of place – no matter how precocious these kids may be.

Unfortunately, the visuals and music do much of the work the screenplay should be doing. As a result, some of the more intriguing ideas about the characters and plot are ignored or flattened out.

It’s a simple, gentle tale that’s told beautifully but feels hollow — like a eulogy for an acquaintance.

We Grown Now has precisely two, pint-sized aces up its sleeve, its astonishingly expressive little-man leads.

Lovely and lyrical yet haunting and heartbreaking...

A poetic portrayal of childhood friendship set against the backdrop of Chicago’s Cabrini-Green public housing jump-starts in the fall of 1992, sometimes missing the mark with too much Malickian whimsy. 


We Grown Now features a lot of forced poignancy when a more delicate and restrained touch would’ve pushed the material further. It’s the kind of film where one can appreciate the passion that went into it, but something still doesn’t sit quite right.

Handled with tenderness, and a lovely sense of childhood, it’s a compelling and as a cinematic work unusually beautiful. Cabrini Green was torn down in 2011.

In the ugliest of worlds, writer/director Minhal Baig has crafted a strikingly beautiful portrait of friendship and family bonds.