Eighth Grade made me highly uncomfortable. Over 90 minutes of 14-year-old angst in the current era of snap, Instagram, Facebook, twitter and texting is not my idea of entertainment. The slow unraveling of Kayla was so painful I could hardly relax. The father has a long monologue towards the end of the film that fails if you dare compare it to the father’s monologue in Call Me by Your Name. Elsie Fisher does a fine job in the lead but doesn’t have an interesting enough technique to withstand almost constant closeups. This indie festival buzz film just didn’t do it for me.