★★★★☆

Andrew David Paterson’s American Flake is a dramedy that captures the lingering feeling of adolescence, life, and loss through a comedy where its characters drive the narrative.

The film centers around Gale, a low-level drug dealer who is more than happy selling weed and lingering around all day.

His character is a combination of Jay and Randal from Kevin Smith’s Clerks: a carefree 26-year-old who doesn’t want responsibility or to deal with real life, instead spending his days at the arcade.

He actively avoids responsibility, and one of his best friends is a high school student, further emphasizing his inability to grow up. It reinforces the notion that he’s stuck. Although the film doesn’t provide context for how they know each other or how the friendship developed, it still feels natural and grounded.

Paterson’s script is the backbone of the film, providing a solid foundation built around its characters. It allows for weaker craftsmanship around the exterior without derailing the film.

“Paterson’s script is the backbone of the film.”

Toward the end of the second act and into the third, the storyline takes a dip, causing the film’s structure to bend, but not break.

The antagonist isn’t so much a person as it is life itself, with the struggle and moral dilemma built less around outside forces and more around the internal flaws Gale must overcome. The death of his mother, everyone around him progressing while he remains stuck, all reinforce his refusal to change or grow.

While the script has its dips, the overall vision and underlying ideas are embedded from the opening scene: American Flake potato chips. The perfect chip.

From a distance, the chips function as a running gag because of Gale’s strange obsession with an otherwise ordinary snack. The gag works while also reinforcing the core character narrative and underlying hurdle that Paterson plants from the beginning.

Not only do the chips represent the loss of his mother, but they also become the centerpiece of his grief, tying his emotional journey to a simple material object. In doing so, Paterson gives an otherwise ordinary bag of chips greater sentimental and emotional value.

Carefully, though not masterfully crafted, Paterson creates a consistent tone from the director’s chair and executes his script as effectively as possible, allowing the pacing issues to become less noticeable as they’re blended into the film’s overall rhythm.

“The film’s structure bends, but never breaks.”

The vision for the film is crystal clear, and we see that through the supporting elements that make up the film as a whole. Tevin Teixeira’s cinematography is a perfect example.

The shots are almost never crisp or traditionally framed for a cinematic look, with the exception of the opening chip advertisement and one or two other scenes. The rest of the film favors off-kilter compositions and deliberately imperfect framing.

Its intent, however, is clear: to create a loose, indie-style aesthetic that establishes the film’s tone and structure. The same can be said for Isaac Lopez’s score, which is pitch perfect. From the opening scene, the music remains strong and steady, never disappointing and consistently adding value to both the film and its characters.

Oliver Austin gives a performance that shouldn’t be overlooked. While, on the surface, his character doesn’t appear to have much range or dynamic to showcase his abilities, there are a few key moments that test his performance, allowing him to demonstrate not only range, but adaptability.

Whether moving from a drug deal scene involving another dealer to emotionally weighted scenes centered around grief and loss, Austin adapts naturally to each moment.

His approach to the character and ability to mold the performance to fit each scene, while maintaining Gale’s overall balance and essence, results in a strong performance that stands out.

“American Flake finishes strong, anchored by a consistent narrative of grief and processing loss.”

While the film has its flaws, along with brief pacing and narrative issues that begin in the second act and bleed into the third, American Flake finishes strong and showcases a consistent underlying narrative of grief and processing loss that anchors the film, reinforcing what otherwise could have been scattered pieces.

Related Reviews

Cuddly Toys Review: Kansas Bowling Crafts a Razor-Sharp Shockumentary 

Julián Review: Annecy Film Festival 2026

Honeyjoon Review: A Heartfelt Mother-Daughter Dramedy | Austin Asian American Film Festival (2026)