
A City, a Dream, and the Race to Be Heard
MOVIE REVIEW
Boxcutter
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Genre: Drama, Comedy
Year Released: 2024, 2025
Runtime: 1h 33m
Director(s): Reza Dahya
Writer(s): Chris Cromie
Cast: Ashton James, Zoe Lewis, Viphusan Vani, Rich Kidd, Clairmont the Second, Russell!, Junia-T, Parveen Kaur
Where to Watch: premieres in theaters beginning October 24, 2025
RAVING REVIEW: Reza Dahya’s BOXCUTTER runs, breathes, and sweats through the city it calls home. Toronto isn’t a backdrop here; it’s the film’s heartbeat, the constant that is pushing its characters to chase validation, redemption, and maybe even a version of success that feels like theirs. An aspiring rapper named Rome loses the only copy of his music hours before a chance encounter with a superstar producer. The film handles this moment with a deeper dive than expected, allowing it to become a study of insecurity, identity, and the desperate hunger for recognition in a city that’s still fighting to be seen.
Rome, played by Ashton James, isn’t your typical rapper archetype. He’s just a young man paralyzed by perfection, unable to release the songs that could change his life. The theft of his music becomes a metaphor for the constant feeling that someone—or something-is always a step away from taking what’s his. His mission across the city feels almost mythic, not because of the stakes in the industry sense, but because it forces him to confront the doubt that’s been eating away at his drive.
Zoe Lewis, in her acting debut as Jenaya, provides the emotional counterbalance. She’s Rome’s foil, an activist-artist who paints murals about gentrification while quietly wrestling with her own compromises. Their journey together unfolds as a day-long sprint through a Toronto in transition—corporate developments swallowing local art spaces, old neighborhoods losing their identity, and young artists trying to figure out where they belong when their home no longer looks like home. Dahya captures all this with affection but never nostalgia; the camera doesn’t mourn what’s lost so much as it honors what’s still alive.
The director’s background in radio and live performance clearly shapes his sense of pacing. Each scene flows like a verse—some steady, others chaotic—but all purposeful. The cinematography by James Klopko keeps the city’s energy front and center, alternating between handheld and quiet contemplation.
One of the film’s greatest strengths is how it grounds the hip-hop narrative in real human conflict. Rather than glorifying fame or the chase for it, it questions why validation matters in the first place. Rome’s belief that success requires a “celebrity co-sign” feels painfully familiar in an age of influencers and viral stardom. Jenaya’s art, meanwhile, challenges that very notion, representing the tension between making something meaningful and making something marketable. Their arguments, small and spontaneous, ring true to the creative process—sometimes beautiful, sometimes brutal.
Where Dahya excels most is in how he uses Toronto’s real artists to enrich the story. Cameos from figures like Rich Kidd, Russell!, Clairmont the Second, Junia-T, and Parveen Kaur aren’t just Easter eggs—they’re evidence of the city’s living culture. Every face, every voice carries history, creating a mosaic of a community that’s vibrant, overlooked, and deeply interconnected. The result feels personal and communal at once, a film made not just about Toronto but by it.
James anchors it all with an understated confidence. His portrayal of Rome doesn’t rely on grand gestures or emotional breakdowns. Instead, it’s the quiet moments—the hesitation before pressing “play,” the way his shoulders slump when another door closes—that make his journey resonate. James embodies a young man suffocated by his own ambition, yet too self-aware to surrender. It’s a performance that avoids sentimentality while still finding space for vulnerability.
The same can be said for Lewis, whose presence glows with authenticity. She’s not performing “activism” for the screen; she lives it through small choices—the way she paints, argues, even hesitates when she realizes her own ideals might not fit the corporate world she’s stepping into. Her chemistry with James feels lived-in, the kind of friendship that could pivot toward romance or resentment depending on the hour.
Urgency sometimes becomes its constraint. The one-day structure keeps things tight, but it occasionally rushes resolution. Moments that deserve to linger—especially the final confrontation between Rome and the producer—pass before their impact fully settles. Life doesn’t always grant closure; sometimes the meaning lies in the scramble, not the finish line.
The film’s soundtrack, featuring Canadian artists like Harrison, Lou Phelps, and Jazz Cartier, adds another dimension. It’s a time capsule of Toronto’s music scene, but one filtered through a lens of realism rather than glamor. The beats are lived-in, the verses grounded, mirroring the characters’ internal tempo. The music doesn’t just underscore the story—it’s part of it, a narrative language all its own.
What sets BOXCUTTER apart from similar “chasing the dream” stories is its refusal to play by formula. There’s no grand triumph or devastating collapse. Instead, the film ends with a kind of earned peace—a recognition that the dream isn’t in the deal or the applause, but in the act of creating despite fear. For his feature debut, Dahya delivers a confident, heartfelt work that balances humor and heart without losing focus. It’s messy, fast, funny, and full of the kind of life that can’t be faked. You can feel the sweat of real city streets in every frame and the pulse of artists fighting to be heard in a world that too often tunes them out.
BOXCUTTER proves that authenticity doesn’t have to shout—it just has to speak clearly, and Dahya’s voice rings true.
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