Growing up fast is never easy, but in Fresh it’s a survival tactic. The film follows a twelve-year-old caught between schoolyard games and the deadly chess match of street life. He runs drugs, dodges dealers, and schemes with a cool detachment that’s both impressive and unsettling. There’s a methodical calm to it all, as if he’s already outgrown the childhood he barely had.
The story sets itself up like a thriller but plays more like a slow, grim puzzle. Each move Fresh makes—each lie, each trade-off—tightens the net he’s spinning around those who use him. At times, the plotting is a little too neat, the metaphor of chess hammered home with a lack of subtlety, but it still has a sting. The sense of inevitability weighs heavily, even when you see the moves coming.
What really lingers is the quiet. The performances are restrained, almost muted, which keeps the drama grounded but occasionally blunts its impact. Fresh is smart, well-constructed, and bleakly inventive, but it doesn’t always connect emotionally. Still, as portraits of childhood shaped by hard choices go, it’s a memorable one—cool, calculated, and just a bit too careful.
I rate it no stars because we could not engage with any of the characters, and did not even see the film through as we were so bored. Not for us. Sorry