The experience of watching The Fabelmans in the cinema was somewhat interrupted by a 30 minute fire alarm, which was an intriguing change to the routine, but I didn’t like it. I mean, obviously, yes. But more so for the fact that I found myself deliberately not talking to my friend about my thoughts of the film thus far in that time. That immediate post-film period is a very malleable time for one’s opinions, and god knows it would be worse to have that and then have to watch the film with that lens of influence applied. In any case, I enjoyed The Fabelmans otherwise. Few directors other than Spielberg could successfully pull off this level of schmalz. This is not a criticism. If you can do it, go for it. Michelle Williams feels like she’s accidentally stumbled into this from a completely different - and much worse - film, and I’m aware that’s a minority opinion. That performance (and it’s the performance, not her, that I have the problem with, of course), the whole thing feels comfortingly lived-in, a good balance between what is presumed nostalgia for Spielberg’s only childhood but what would actually make for an engaging narrative. Throw in David Lynch at the end briefly, and I’m made up.