KCFF’s ‘Mile End Kicks’ brings indie sleaze to the big screen

Mile End Kicks made me long for the joy of early 2010s Montreal hipsterdom.

Screening Feb. 28 and March 1 at The Screening Room as part of the Kingston Canadian Film Festival (KCFF), Mile End Kicksarrives with loose, chaotic energy. Directed by Chandler Levack, the film is a semi-autobiographical coming-of-age story set in Montreal’s Mile End neighbourhood during the early 2010s indie music boom. It’s a messy, funny, and often painfully recognizable portrait of a young writer trying to find her voice.

The film follows Grace Pine, played with magnetic relatability by Barbie Ferreira. Grace is a twenty-something music journalist who leaves Toronto for Montreal with a modest but ambitious plan: write a book about Alanis Morissette’s seminal album Jagged Little Pill. Instead, she quickly becomes swept up in the chaotic orbit of a local indie rock band called Bone Patrol, juggling romantic entanglements with two band members while neglecting the project that brought her there.

Levack’s film thrives on the tension between ambition and distraction. Grace isn’t always likeable. She makes bad decisions, ignores responsibilities, treats the people around her poorly, and repeatedly confuses proximity to artists with personal creative progress. Yet Ferreira’s performance keeps the character grounded. Even when Grace spirals into self-sabotage, Ferreira’s charisma makes it easy to recognize something painfully familiar in her missteps.

Much of the film’s charm comes from its recreation of a specific cultural moment. Levack lovingly reconstructs the early 2010s indie scene with cramped apartments, loft parties, dive bars, and nostalgic Apple products. Frequent references to Canadian indie artists like Islands, Grimes, and Mac DeMarco firmly place the audience in a distinct time and place.

If the plot sometimes meanders, the looseness feels intentional. Mile End Kicks isn’t interested in delivering a neat arc of success or failure. Instead, it captures the drifting uncertainty of your mid-twenties, a period when every decision feels monumental but is often just another wrong turn on the way to figuring things out.

The supporting cast adds texture to the film’s world. Devon Bostick and Stanley Simons play members of the band Grace becomes entangled with, representing two sides of the indie-rock archetype: the charismatic dreamer and the self-absorbed frontman. Meanwhile, Jay Baruchel appears as Grace’s exploitative editor, a reminder of the bro-culture that often shapes the music journalism industry.

What ultimately elevates the film is Levack’s self-awareness. Because the story draws from her own early career as a music writer, the film never romanticizes the scene too heavily. It’s just as interesting as the awkwardness of being the only woman in the room, navigating male ego while trying to maintain your own creative identity.

Like Grace herself, the film is scrappy and imperfect. But it’s also honest, and that honesty makes Mile End Kicks a worthwhile watch for music lovers and fans of Canadian cinema alike.