Director: Sean Wang
Writer: Sean Wang
Stars: Izaac Wang, Joan Chen, Shirley Chen

Synopsis: A 13-year-old Taiwanese American boy discovers skating, flirting, and the true essence of maternal love beyond his family’s teachings.

There’s not going to be any sugarcoating when it comes to how I write about Sean Wang’s Dìdi. This film basically crystallizes the summer of 2008 in cinematic amber. Those insane home videos made among friends where you feel invincible. Having a drawer full of Livestrong bracelets that became so melted and slimy from heat they became gross to the touch. Messaging friends or your crush with the most ludicrous grammar imaginable. Writing and deleting countless drafts before deciding to go with the option that has the least personality possible. It’s incredibly apparent that this film is mined from the most personal memories of Wang’s childhood. Yet magically, the moments in our lives that feel hyper-specific are often the ones that resonate the most universally. It’s very possible that I hadn’t thought about Touchdown Turnaround by Hellogoodbye since 2008, but the moment it pops up on a character’s MySpace page in the film, memories came flooding back at a rapid rate. Dìdi effortlessly opens the floodgates of memory for its viewer in a way that is so magical, and incredibly representative of the power of cinema. For Wang, it’s clear that making this film was deeply cathartic. For the audience, it’s a laugh-out-loud trip down memory lane with a heart of gold. Most importantly, it captures the pivotal notion that emotional openness is crucial to growing up, and that perhaps the biggest shame of many youths is that they are too afraid to open up emotionally.

Dìdi is so painfully sincere in capturing an age that is anything but. The decisions we made at 13 are completely based on this innate desire to be liked. Obviously, there’s nothing wrong with wanting to be liked by your peers, or even the older kids. It’s only when we begin reshaping our true selves that it becomes a disservice to the true person we’re supposed to be. In the end, it’s all part of that experience of what it means to grow up. We make mistakes, and find ourselves in situations that we were so excited for, only to realize how deeply panicked they make us. We lied to make a Facebook account, we lied about the movies and music we like to impress those we have a crush on, we lied to our peers about being more sexually experienced than we actually were. Is it wrong? Maybe. But it’s all based in this innocent desperation to be accepted as an equal. And Izaac Wang’s performance as Chris Wang paired with Sean Wang’s observant direction is a match made in heaven. We follow Chris’ mouse as he slowly looks over Facebook status’ and AIM messages. We see him overthink just exactly how he’s going to try and win over the heart of his crush, Madi (Macaela Parker). Chris is clearly yearning as much as any 13-year-old does. We’re only able to recognize it after having gone through it and learned from it.

So with that hindsight in mind, Wang described this film as “a thank you and an ‘I’m sorry’” to his friends and family. Dìdi is a film that acutely understands the complex duology that lives in most 13-year-old kids growing up. On the surface, a kid like Chris may show little to no emotional intelligence when interacting with his peers. He’s practically incapable of displaying any emotion, other than laughter when one of his friends disses the other with the most out-of-pocket thing you could imagine saying to another person. Yet deep down, Chris, and all other adolescent kids, are controlled by these inexplicable feelings. It’s a constant struggle on what the proper reaction should be in any given situation, and leave it to the seemingly thoughtless older kids to call Chris on it in a sequence where he yells at his mom for fear of being embarrassed. At that age, it’s so easy to find ourselves completely lost within our heart and mind as we attempt to grapple with the world at large. Self-image at that age came from how others viewed us, and in that moment, it was the only thing that mattered. How unfortunate that 2008 was a time period in which emotional honesty was shackled behind the fear of being made fun of by other friends or class bullies.

For example, out of the blue, Chris receives a message from Madi asking to hang out. We see the message he types on AIM, one that shows his clear excitement. Chris then deletes it with haste, only to send the all too common, “nm u?” that we have all sent at least once in our adolescent lives. When Chris’ mom, an artist, shows him a beautiful painting she made of a moment in time from a trip to the beach long ago, Chris’ first comment after a quick, unenthused glance is how he looks stupid. His only thought is how a friend might use it as something to poke fun at if they came over. It’s an interaction that stings deeply, and most viewers will likely have some similar instance of comparison to their lives. Even in the most reckless of situations, we might have found ourselves rushing in with the hopes of being labeled cool. A bunch of guys wrestling in the park leads to Chris getting a black eye, and it certainly helps Chris’ self-esteem that Madi was there to watch it happen. As somebody who accidentally wound up with a black eye around the same age as Chris, the attention the next day unequivocally made it all the better. It would be crazy to ever reveal how upset it actually made us in the moment, wondering why we ended up with it in the first place. That constant worry of being perceived as cool was always overcome by the knowledge that being too “in touch with your own emotions” was anything but cool. Even so, Dìdi is a film that is incredibly in touch with emotions, even if Chris may feel utterly lost by his own.

We see unbridled anger and fear as his friends take his phone while in the middle of texting Madi. There was simply nothing scarier at the time. We see misunderstood remorse as he calls strangers names thinking it would come across as humorous. There’s a deep uneasiness and fear as we overhear and catch glimpses of an intense familial argument. And in that same vein, there’s a comfort and warm solace when our sibling gets us out of that situation without hesitation. So much of Dìdi captures these emotions perfectly, but when channeled through Chris, those emotions become warped by the time and place with which the story so crucially takes place. These moments in our lives that we look back on with a touch of nostalgia and a lot more cringiness are the moments that may have defined who we have become. But also, they are representative of a time when many of us didn’t know any better. It’s only in hindsight that we’re able to see why we made all the choices we did. Quite frankly, growing up was, is, and always will be, a tough and confusing experience. But sometimes it’s as simple as receiving the slightest of nods from a friend to let us know it will all be okay.

Dìdi celebrated its world premiere at the 2024 Sundance Film Festival in the U.S. Dramatic Competition section, and is currently seeking distribution.

Grade: A-

Director: Josh Margolin
Writer: Josh Margolin
Stars: June Squibb, Richard Roundtree, Parker Posey

Synopsis: When 93-year-old Thelma Post gets duped by a phone scammer pretending to be her grandson, she sets out on a treacherous quest across the city to reclaim what was taken from her.

It’s only fitting that a film which includes the next greatest action star in cinema pays homage to the current greatest action star. That’s right, the baton Tom Cruise has gripped for decades is now being passed to an unquestionable star. She’s been nominated for an Academy Award, she’s had dozens upon dozens of film and television credits, and she’s 94 years old. I’m talking about June Squibb, who portrays the titular heroine of Josh Margolin’s Thelma. An ode to action films, and Mission: Impossible in particular, Thelma is a riotous time at the movies, and so much of that rests on Squibb’s shoulders!

Squibb takes on her first leading role with the charisma of any great movie star. Every word out of her mouth feels completely natural, and every mannerism of hers is something I’ve seen my grandma do countless times. This film is also inspired by events that occurred to Margolin’s grandma, a scam which surely has happened to countless other grandparents in the world. Thelma receives a call that her grandson, Daniel (Fred Hechinger), has been in a bad accident and must wire $10,000 to help him. In a whirlwind of confusion, Thelma unfortunately sends it off as she is unable to reach her daughter, Gail (Parker Posey) or son-in-law Alan (Clark Gregg). Sadly, my grandma was also victimized by the same type of scam, only they said it was my uncle rather than me. I vividly remember the confusion on her face, and the incredulity of the situation. To think there are people who actively make a “living” via scamming anybody, let alone the elderly, is despicable. It’s in this anger that Thelma decides she is going to get her money back in person! So to see Thelma take action is not only fun and exciting, but cathartic.

It’s clear the Thelma team takes the action in their film as seriously as any Tom Cruise vehicle might. Imbued with a sense of genuine tension, Squibb’s mission involves everything you might see in the Mission: Impossible franchise. There’s gadgets, vehicle chases, a charismatic (and deeply stacked) cast, with a ticking clock tying it all together. But it’s important to note that what this film captures so wonderfully is the high stakes situations of everyday life. For Thelma, it’s something as simple as sneaking up her friend’s staircase. For her grandchild, daughter, and son-in-law, it’s making a speedy left turn against oncoming traffic. But with a smile on her face, Squibb shows the world she’s still got it! That’s not to say that Margolin exclusively makes an action movie. In fact, this film excels as a rumination on aging and pride just as much as it does as an action film. There’s also a third subplot that mostly seems to fade away as the two parallel ideas begin converging, but it serves its purpose well enough within the context of the plot.

During the course of her mission, Thelma has to reach out to an old friend for some help. Thelma makes it vocally known that she doesn’t enjoy the assistance. In this case, she prefers to take matters into her hands and her hands alone. She heads to an assisted living facility where Ben (the legendary Richard Roundtree, in his final role) has lived since the passing of his wife. The two have completely different views on what it means to be at their age, but they end up on the same dual-seated scooter nevertheless. Still, they often butt heads as to what the best approach is for certain situations. 

As Ben and Thelma find themselves in predicaments that are only getting more dicey, Ben insists on calling Thelma’s family for help. As independent as ever, Thelma adamantly refuses. In maybe the most poignant scene of the film, Ben explains how he is not lesser than Thelma because he takes help where he can get it. He always greatly appreciated the help from his wife. When she passed, he then went to a place that could continue that help. For Thelma, that’s out of the question, and it’s not exclusively due to pride. It’s simply that she was the helper in her relationship. In this impactful exchange, Margolin reminds the audience that, while many elderly family members in our life may be stubborn, chances are they aren’t behaving so irrationally. It’s simply a matter of breaking habits that have formed over the course of a lifetime. So the solution cannot simply be to cast all the elderly into assisted living and call it a day. Instead, we must find a way to allow our elderly loved ones their independence, without making them feel as if they’re all used up or burdening anybody. And by the end of the film, Thelma proves herself more than capable and full of life. As she heads back home with her grandson, Daniel (Fred Hechinger), she observes gnarled trees along the street. She is awestruck by their resiliency, and utters two words that will make your heart soar. Squibb may be a top-notch action star, but she also delivers these poetic phrases with such believability. The reason being is simple. As an audience, we wholeheartedly believe that Squibb is as loving and caring and thoughtful as Thelma. Around midway through the film, Ben asks Thelma if they’re having one of their good days or one of their bad days. Thelma says that they’ll find out soon enough. By the end, it feels like it’s going to be remembered as one of the best days they’ve ever had. And the same can be said for the day that we walk out of this film, reminded of the beautiful resilience of the human spirit.

Thelma celebrated its world premiere at the 2024 Sundance Film Festival in the Premieres section.

Grade: B

Director: Chris Nash
Writer: Chris Nash
Stars: Ry Barrett, Charlotte Creaghan, Liam Leone

Synopsis: The horror movie tracks a ravenous zombie creature as it makes its way through a secluded forest.

Johnny’s arrival in Chris Nash’s slasher film, In A Violent Nature, isn’t signaled by much. In fact, when the film opens up, we can barely tell what’s going on. Conversations are simply overheard, and in most slasher films, the viewer would expect to see who’s talking. One would imagine that these are the voices of our central characters, or merely the victims of a deadly cold open. In A Violent Nature, while deeply and clearly indebted to countless slashers that came before it, is not like most slasher films. It brings a new approach to the tried-and-true subgenre that works unbelievably well. The beauty of Nash’s film is just how well it takes the most common tropes imaginable, and repurposes them through a literal new lens. What is that new lens you might ask? It’s Johnny’s! With the camera primarily remaining behind the hulking beast, this second-person style slasher is deeply immersive, and staggeringly effective.

As stated, the film begins and there’s absolutely no sense of geography in which to ground ourselves. That all changes fairly quickly, for as soon as the voices we heard dissipate in the distance, the ground begins to essentially gurgle. Johnny has awoken, and it’s as if evil is being birthed from the ground. He’s practically spit back out into the forest. And then? He begins to walk… and we as the viewer are forced to follow. His hulking footsteps, the leaves brushing against his body, and the occasional ambience of nature is all we come to hear. He doesn’t speak, doesn’t mutter anything, and for all we know, he barely even thinks. With no musical score to escape into, In A Violent Nature places us inside the mind of its behemoth. And while being trapped in there for so long, one gets the sense by this point that he, or it, is completely and utterly mindless. It’s a frightening subversion of slasher films, wherein with classics like Friday the 13th or Halloween, at least other characters provide an inkling of an idea as to what’s going on. Nash is not interested in explaining whatsoever, although there’s a handful of easter eggs which make it clear he is as interested in inventing a dense lore for his new horror icon as he is in grossing audiences out.

This film definitely requires a bit of patience, but make no mistake, it is gnarly. There’s one sequence that is likely to go down as the best horror death of the year, and realistically, will be canonized as one of the greatest ever. But aside from the outstanding makeup and prosthetics, as well as the crunchy, squishy sound design, Nash’s kills take on another layer. We have sat in this stalking beast’s mind for so long that we barely get to meet any of his victims. There’s a few moments where we learn the very basics of their relationships, but it’s all heard in pieces and through walls or from a distance. One would think that this would lessen the impact of these kills, but in fact, it makes them all the more upsetting. There’s simply no rhyme or reason to his actions. Over time, it becomes clear that Johnny, while remaining ever silent and mindlessly committed on his aimless path, is deeply sadistic and inventive in how he chooses to murder his victims. It’s not simply a matter of him achieving his objective. It goes much deeper than that. The violence only adds to his complete and utter lack of humanity.

After the film premiered, Nash explained how he wanted to make a film full of vibes punctuated by extreme violence. On that front, he obviously succeeded wildly. The vibes are incredibly bad, and genre fans are going to eat it up. There’s a steadfast commitment to just how grim In A Violent Nature can get. Complete and total isolation feels like one of the primary throughlines of the film. Pretty much every victim of Johnny is attacked while they are frighteningly alone. Screams can never be heard, if there are any to begin with. This isolation is something that the brilliant sound design captures by either screams echoing into thin air or by simply drowning the agony out by other means. At one point, Johnny drags one of his victims into a shed. Without revealing anything, it’s one of the more deranged things I’ve ever seen in a film, made all the more frightening by the roaring sounds we hear. Prior to witnessing what is causing the noise, our minds are driven mad from imagination. When the reveal arrives, it numbs our mind with the blaring noise until we can no longer think straight. These moments of stark violence are captured in such a way that, even though we’re trapped following Johnny around, we’re somewhat grateful to not know what is truly going on in his mind. He observes his prey as if they’re mere toys, and it’s horrifically effective.

Although it will not be spoiled here, the ending of In A Violent Nature is perhaps the proof of Nash’s greatest strength. He must be applauded for the level of restraint used in the extended finale. He completely reshapes the typical final girl into something viscerally perturbed. There is absolutely no solace or satisfaction by the time the credits roll. Instead, both the final girl and the audience are left with, again, that sense of complete and total isolation. And with that, there comes a deep seeded fear that can be felt throughout your body. In those moments of full disorientation, the horrors we imagine can so easily sneak up on us. All they have to do is hide in plain sight, and more often than not, Johnny usually is. And he is one horror villain you definitely don’t want to be ambushed by.

In A Violent Nature celebrated its world premiere at the 2024 Sundance Film Festival in the Midnight section, and will be released by Shudder and IFC Films later this year.

Grade: A-

Directors: Ian Bonhôte, Peter Ettedgui
Writers: Ian Bonhôte, Otto Burnham, Peter Ettedgui
Stars: Christopher Reeve

Synopsis: Reeve’s rise to becoming a film star, follows with a near-fatal horse-riding accident in 1995 that left him paralyzed from the neck down. After which he became an activist for spinal cord injury treatments and disability rights.

Superman: The Movie has been canonized for years now. Going beyond the realm of cinema, the 1978 Superman has been permanently frozen into the annals of pop culture legend. It, of course, helps that Superman is one of the most iconic characters to ever be written. But the character had existed for decades prior to the adaptation, so what about that film elevated the hero to newfound heights? At the time, it was a landmark film in terms of visual effects, and, in retrospect, began the cascading effect of where contemporary cinema has currently found itself. But, having recently watched it for the first time, the reason for its transcendence is incredibly apparent: Christopher Reeve simply embodies the very essence of a superhero. It’s an all-time movie star performance, which captures the very essence of heroism in incredibly natural ways. And this documentary, Super/Man: The Christopher Reeve Story, truly capitalizes on that natural charisma and moral compass. After all, the story of Reeve and his family is more inspiring than any fictional superhero comic that’s been written.

One would think that living up to the mythos of Superman would be an insurmountable task. But Reeve, with all his charisma and resiliency, proved it possible. The documentary, directed by Peter Ettedgui and Ian Bonhôte, is really not about Superman. It’s about Reeve, the man who embodied the chance to be super. But importantly, and it’s what truly elevates this documentary, it also focuses on those around him who did the same. After the tragic accident that left Reeve paralyzed from the neck down, an unfathomable amount of responsibility was placed on the shoulders of his wife, Dana Reeve. The biggest strength of this documentary is just how powerfully the love Dana and Christopher had for one another comes across. One sequence in particular details the first conversation the two had after the accident, and with three words, it will cause any audience member to sob.

There’s a quote from Reeve in the film wherein he describes his understanding of what it means to be a hero. In his eyes, an ordinary person who endures great hardship and maintains hope is more heroic than any superpowered individual. Super/Man: The Christopher Reeve Story is not only a perfect encapsulation of one person, but several individuals, who fit this definition of what it means to be a hero. Furthermore, it confirms the essential nature of surrounding oneself with love. Between Dana, his three children, Matthew, Alexandra, and Will, Robin Williams (of which he is heavily featured in the documentary, and it is as devastating as you could expect), and more, it’s clear Christopher Reeve had a rock solid support system. And it’s with that support, and his clearly innate resiliency, that he decided to let his accident only be a hurdle in life.

Just like Superman, Christopher Reeve used his persona as both a symbol for hope and a vehicle for change. A major advocate for disability rights and care, the foundation created in his and his wife’s name has become the story of a foundation that has helped countless lives. His determination to change the accessibility of Hollywood is immensely admirable. One segment of the documentary follows the steps that were taken for Christopher to appear at the Oscars in 1996. It’s a deeply powerful moment when he finally takes the stage, and leaves you with a sense of overwhelming awe. It’s a truly marvelous moment wherein you fully believe him to be a superhero. It’s transcendent, until the first sentence out of his mouth is a joke. He immediately reminds the world on a massive stage that he, and anybody with a disability, does not want to be pitied. Instead, he’s just a person. The same Christopher Reeve we have always known and loved.

Again, the idea of anybody living up to the stature of Superman seems impossible. But even before his accident, it appeared that Christopher Reeve had achieved it. Perhaps the greatest moment in any comic book film is in the 1978 Superman and solely rests on the shoulders of Christopher Reeve. In the original film, Clark meets Lois Lane in her apartment. He has his typical sheepish demeanor. But as Lois leaves the room, he removes his glasses and his entire body language changes. But before admitting he is Superman, he puts the glasses back on and reverts back to the nervous Clark. It’s only about 30 seconds or so, but it’s a stunning example of a subtle physical performance that will forever move me. For me, it’s not his performance of Superman that sets him apart from the rest, but his performance of Clark Kent. In it, there is such an innate love for humanity, and Christopher Reeve brings a deep and necessary humility to his performance. It’s in that humility that Christopher Reeve becomes a truly iconic figure in history. May we all hope to inspire even a fraction of the people he has in our lives, and may we be so lucky as to have a love as deep as his and his wife.

Super/Man: The Christopher Reeve Story celebrated its world premiere at the 2024 Sundance Film Festival in the Premieres section and is currently seeking distribution.

Grade: A

Director: Megan Park
Writer: Megan Park
Stars: Aubrey Plaza, Maddie Ziegler, Maria Dizzia

Synopsis: Elliott Labrant, who has been advised by her future self not to fall in love, is sure she can do so after being given the advice. That is, until she meets the boy her older self warned her about.

If you like high-concept sci-fi films, then you’re in luck: My Old Ass is for you. If you adore nothing more than an irreverent coming-of-age comedy, look no further: My Old Ass is for you. If you appreciate a film that reminds you the importance of what it means to be appreciative, or just simply love having a great time at the movies, I am incredibly happy to report: My Old Ass is for you. Megan Park’s second feature, My Old Ass, is an absolute delight from beginning to end. From the very first frame of the film, it’s full of a wonderful energy that sets the stage for a rolicking time at the movies.

There’s a youthful exuberance that just pours off of the screen. We’re immediately introduced to three teenage girls boating around, clearly having the time of their lives. Elliott (newcomer Maisy Stella), Ro (Kerrice Brooks), and Ruthie (Maddie Ziegler) are getting ready to celebrate. It’s Elliott’s 18th birthday, and for the occasion, the girls have decided to go camping and take mushrooms. Within seconds of seeing this group of friends interact, the fun they’re having is infectious. It truly feels as if they have been friends their entire lives. While the film pivots in a more focused direction after the first act, one could imagine a full coming-of-age film about this trio just enjoying the remaining days of summer. Where the film decides to go is strong in its own right, but it’s honestly upsetting that there’s never much more of this delightful friend group. It’s just a really wonderful way to start the film, and considering the direction the film takes, to have more interactions amongst the three of them would be nothing but beneficial.

Somewhere along the way, Elliott encounters her older self (Aubrey Plaza). Unsure how to handle the situation, this interesting sci-fi idea takes on a very comedic framework. Rather than get bogged down in the how or why, Stella and Plaza have such fun banter. Smartly, the film isn’t even remotely interested in getting into the specifics of just what it is that’s occurring. All the viewer needs to know is what 18-year-old Elliott needs to know. 39-year-old Elliott doles out information sparsely as to make sure there’s some surprises still left for her younger self. The most important things she tells Elliott is to not take her parents and two brothers for granted, and to stay away from a mystery person named Chad (Percy Hynes White). What should be easy enough of a task, considering 18-year-old Elliott has no idea who Chad is, is immediately upended by his perfectly odd arrival. From there, the film pivots hard into a lovely rom-com of sorts, where Elliott is actively trying, and consistently failing, to avoid the seemingly sweet Chad. 

As somebody who has never particularly enjoyed The Office, there’s admittedly one quote that has always stuck with me. “I wish there was a way to know you were in the good old days before you actually left them.” Elliott only has three weeks in her small town home before moving to Toronto. It’s not until she speaks with her older self that it begins to settle in just what it means to leave home. Also having been clued into a startling revelation about what her parents will be doing after she goes away, Elliott’s world begins to crash down on her like a ticking clock. Any semi-adult viewer will become emotional over this notion of no longer being able to return to a specific moment in time. We can look back on memories and be comforted by them, but there are moments in our lives that pass and force us to make a painful realization. Some of our favorite activities, our favorite people, our favorite places, might some day cease to exist. We don’t realize that as children, but what happens if we’re explicitly told that it’s inevitably coming? So with that, Park’s film certainly tugs on the heart strings when showing Elliott’s attempts at savoring every available moment with family. While it feels as if the experiences could be a bit more varied, they’re certainly effective in achieving the end result. Especially when it comes to Chad, perhaps one of the most affable and endearing rom-com men we’ve had in some time. 

Hynes White portrays Chad with such effervescence. He’s full of life, yet doesn’t seem to fully realize it. Played with a goofball mentality that’s impossible to not smile at, older Elliott’s warning to stay away from him only becomes more confounding. As young Elliott needs more information, she decides to take more mushrooms in the hopes of speaking with her older self once again. It doesn’t work the same way this time around, but instead, delivers what is likely to be one of the most surprising, and funny, sequences of the year. And it’s in the moments and sequences like these, where My Old Ass feels at its most fresh. It’s also in sequences like this one that remind both the audience and Elliott that these carefree moments of childhood only last so long. Life is full of many moments that will be missed. Hopefully, we’ll be able to catch as many as possible. And in the meantime, we should savor every moment, for accepting defeat before the moments even come is no way to live a life. Surprisingly enough, My Old Ass ends on a relatively somber note, at least in comparison to the rest of the film. But it comes from a place so life-affirming and tender that all in all, it’s a deeply happy ending, one that leaves both its characters, and the audience, all the more fulfilled.

My Old Ass celebrated its world premiere at the 2024 Sundance Film Festival in the Premieres section and is currently seeking distribution.

Grade: B

Director: Thea Hvistendahl
Writer: Thea Hvistendahl, John Ajvide Lindqvist
Stars: Renta Reinsve, Anders Danielsen Le, Bahar Pars

Synopsis: On a hot summer day in Oslo, the dead mysteriously awaken, and three families are thrown into chaos when their deceased loved ones come back to them. Who are they, and what do they want?

To simply summarize Thea Hvistendahl’s Handling The Undead as a zombie movie would be a disservice to what this film attempts to address. While certainly operating through the lens of a genre film, this plays out far more in the realm of an intriguing drama grappling with the variety of ways in which humans handle grief. Following the lives of four groups dealing with the aftermath of tragic loss, Hvistendahl’s film, based off of the 2005 John Ajvide Lindqvist novel of the same name begs the question: if we always hope and pray for our loved ones to return, what would it mean if they actually did? It’s a chilling film that relies heavily on both gorgeous cinematography and a moody score to maximize the impact it has on its audience.

The film opens up in a small apartment, and we’re treated to faint glimpses of an older gentleman. Keeping the viewer at a distance, many shots in Handling the Undead barely lend a peak around a doorframe or window. Considering how much these stories are interested in the process of grief stages, the cinematography in the earlier sequences succeeds at displaying how we cope when we don’t think anybody is watching. The film certainly takes its time doling out information, and it works all the better for it. While there would seem to be a benefit from providing a bit more by the latter half, there’s an admirable quality to committing to a specific tone and pace for the entirety of a runtime. We begin to learn that the elderly gentleman is the father of Anna (Renate Reinsve), who is grieving the loss of her young child. Barely able to function, she drones out any feelings she might have by blasting music. Her inability to eat is captured not explicitly, but her father’s ritual of leaving wrapped plates atop one another in the fridge will hit close to home for anybody who has cared for a grieving loved one.

Handling the Undead feels as if it’s packed full of imagery that subtly, yet powerfully, aims to make the thesis statement behind the film’s choices as clear as possible. For example, upon the introduction to the rest of the characters, there’s an overhead shot of two separate freeway loops that are practically touching. While the disparate stories captured in this film never intersect with one another, they come incredibly close to one another emotionally; they are all dealing with devastation in their own manner. Importantly, none are ever judged for how they handle the situations present. And by situations, yes, I am referring to the fact that their deceased loved ones have returned as zombies.

These aren’t the cinematic zombies we have grown accustomed to. More than anything, they meander. But there are fleeting moments where it feels as if those that have returned have a semblance of memory. Or at the very least, they have some sort of feeling. Unfortunately, this concept isn’t as deeply explored as the living characters themselves, but it does bring up another fascinating question. If the living would do anything for their loved ones to return, would those we have lost want to return in the first place? If viewing the film through that lens, it becomes a bit of a disappointment, but there’s enough variety in the situations presented that leave you intrigued. 

Perhaps the strongest element of Handling the Undead is right there in the title itself. Each of these characters, by the end of the film, finds a way of dealing with their newfound discoveries. There are those who, after their experience, finally allow themselves to grieve. In it, we see the importance of acceptance. In another, we see commitment to making it work no matter the dilemma. And finally, we witness denial until it’s no longer feasible, and how we just eventually force ourselves to move on and continue living despite it all.

While it would have been fascinating to get a bit more context into the world at large and how it is dealing with such a scenario, the film and story don’t seem necessarily all that interested in the larger scope of this frightening event. It’s solely focused on how a certain set of individuals, and by extension, how countless individuals around the globe, would deal with their own thoughts and feelings regarding such a situation. For better or worse, Handling the Undead remains steadfast in its patient approach. Handling grief is, in and of itself, an arduous journey. If at times the film feels like it could propel forward a bit, perhaps Hvistendahl is simply trying to steep us in the stages of grief as cinematically as possible.

Handling the Undead celebrated its world premiere at the 2024 Sundance Film Festival in the World Dramatic Competition section, and will be released by Neon later this year.

Grade: C+

Director: Steven Soderbergh
Writer: David Koepp
Stars: Lucy Liu, Chris Sullivan, Julia Fox

Synopsis: Showcases a suburban house inhabited by an mysterious entity.

After the world premiere of Steven Soderbergh’s secret film, Presence, legendary actress Lucy Liu said the multi-hyphenate filmmaker has given other filmmakers a new canvas to work with. It should be no surprise, considering that time and time again, Soderbergh has devised ways of turning even the most simple or trite ideas into experimental masterpieces. When the spy genre seemed to have turned stale, he made Haywire. In a time where COVID movies were coming out left and right with nothing meaningful to say about the shared experience, he gave us Kimi. For over 35 years, Soderbergh has redefined his style so much that his most observable style has become the essential breaking down of previous films of his. With each new project he decides to take on, his audience knows that, at the very least, not a single thing will be phoned in. There is a clear purpose behind every decision, and that can be felt from the opening shot of Presence.

Brilliantly, with a single camera move, Soderbergh pulls his audience into the empty house wherein the rest of the film will take place. He lays the cards right out in front of us, and when we take the bait as he intended, we’re immediately taken when we realize he never attempted to hide his hand. On the contrary, Soderbergh brings the audience in on the very ground floor so as to set the guidelines by which this film will continuously operate. Screenwriter David Koepp described how he admired the commitment to creating a set of arbitrary rules which would create a sense of confinement. And it’s within these very rules that Presence soars to newfound heights. Yes, at the end of the day, this is just a ghost story. But rather than just have his audience watch characters operate along their set paths on a screen, the POV used pulls the audience into the home experience alongside this family of four. All in all, it makes for a more enriching experience, on top of the experimental movements just working like visual gangbusters. And of course, Soderbergh was the camera operator on this film. So not only did he conceive of a fascinating new angle with which to address this sub genre through, he made sure to be the first one doing it. (He also edited the film, but who’s counting at this point?)

At one point in the film, Chris (Chris Sullivan) sits down to tell his daughter, Chloe (Callina Liang), that there is still mystery in the world. There’s certainly plenty of mystery behind the family which Presence quite literally follows. Pretty much every scene of the film either ends a few seconds too short or bleeds into what one could imagine is a new scene, before also cutting away abruptly. It’s a reminder that these characters, while we begin to get a general sense of the family dynamic, are indeed unknowable. These fleeting moments we see through the eyes of the presence are not enough, yet sufficient in eliciting the ideas Koepp and Soderbergh seemingly want to achieve. If we’re to believe we are part of the presence itself, we can never access the whole story. Admittedly, it can be a bit frustrating at times, but it works in retrospect with both the finale and the rules set up midway through the film.

Smartly, Presence, while operating on the idea that ghosts do exist, posits they are also still unknowable. There are a handful of possible interpretations to glean from the events that occur in the film. And even at its most frightening, there’s something deeply comforting sitting at the core of the sheer fright that’s imagined. For example, there’s one element of the film that Soderbergh repeatedly teases his viewer with. Everytime it occurs, we get closer and closer to seeing a cinematic reveal. By the end, we discount it as a possibility, until in the final moments when it does occur. Soderbergh intentionally uses cinematic curiosity to his benefit, and when he finally drops the curtain, it’s blood-curdling in its raw effectiveness. There’s such an innate understanding of the relationship between film and audience in Presence that it feels rather easy to look past the occasionally overly dramatic teen dialogue.

With his ninth film in eight consecutive years, and over 30 features to his name, Soderbergh once again confirms my belief that he is not only the hardest working filmmaker in the world of cinema, but he has been for a while. And he shows no signs of slowing down. We should all simply be grateful that there’s still filmmakers at his status who are willing to take big swings, and in the case of Presence, pay off. One can also imagine this film will inspire a slew of films that attempt to capture a deeply immersive, VR-style POV. Whether they will just be used as a gimmick or cheap imitation is now in the hands of the rest of cinema.

Presence celebrated its world premiere at the 2024 Sundance Film Festival in the Premieres section. It has been acquired by Neon, and will presumably release in theaters in 2024.

Grade: B+

Directors: David Zellner, Nathan Zellner
Writer: David Zellner
Stars: Jesse Eisenberg, Riley Keough, Christophe Zajac-Denek

Synopsis: A year in the life of a unique family. It captures the daily life of the Sasquatch with a level of detail and rigor that is simply unforgettable.

Sasquatch Sunset is a deeply unconventional movie, so it only feels right that this review is equally unconventional. The fifth feature film from brothers Nathan and David Zellner, this is a film that features zero humans and approximately four sasquatches. Yes, it is as insane as it sounds. Yet, for something that began as a joke short film among two brothers, the final product is something truly beautiful. Upon the opening moments of the film, I started realizing that I’ve never really given much thought to the existence of Sasquatch throughout my life. But with this film, it makes you wonder: wouldn’t it be lovely if they really did exist? 

Completely dialogue free and devoid of on-screen humans, Sasquatch Sunset revels in the beauty of nature. Through these immensely quiet shots of the Sasquatch family observing and interacting with nature, the Zellner brothers remind their audience to be a bit more gentle to the world around us. In one of the most belly-laugh-out-loud sequences of the film, the family begins relieving themselves upon the discovery of a roadway. It tears directly through their beautiful natural habitat, so rightfully so they deface it however they seem fit! It’s also important to note that the Zellner brothers DID in fact confirm to the audience everything in the film is “100% authenticated” and “confirmed with a variety of scientists.” With such a commitment to the sheer lunacy of their cinematic idea, the Zellner brothers go above and beyond in justifying their choice for making this into a full 89-minute feature. And it does feel like they achieve it, even if it feels like two disparate achievements at times.

The main issue this film seems to have is whether or not it wants to be a moving humanist drama or flat-out comedy. Of course, a film can be both, and there are countless examples throughout cinema. Yet, with Sasquatch Sunset, it feels like the funniest moments undercut the more genuinely heartbreaking moments. Mind you, both elements of the film do work wonderfully, but it just feels as if the glue hasn’t entirely solidified at times. Even so, I found myself deeply captivated by the entirety of the runtime, mainly by the sheer fact of how committed all parties involved seem to be. For starters, the makeup and costume work looks Oscar-worthy. From close-ups to wide shots, the sasquatches are always the star of the show. Shot like a nature documentary, and looking just as gorgeous, the comical awe of the sasquatches existing casually within the woods is funny every single time. But what is so particularly funny about this film? Sure, there’s plenty of fart, piss, and poop jokes. The toilet humor of Sasquatch Sunset seems to know no bounds. Yet, in my opinion, I’d say that for the most part, those gross-out comedy bits are arguably what weighs the film down a bit. Becoming so deeply engrossed in this film, I really did find myself wondering how lovely it would be if this sasquatch family actually did exist somewhere out there in the wild.

What’s so different between humans and the sasquatches of Sasquatch Sunset? Sure, they’re a bit less hygienic. But we all know at least one person who does some of the same things these sasquatches do and sees nothing wrong with it. This sasquatch family tries new foods whenever they come across it. They travel often and for no apparent reason, perhaps if only to see different sights. They’re clearly curious creatures. Always seeking out new experiences, or playing with and loving animals, these sasquatch are deeply human-like. Of course it helps that the performers in the film (Jesse Eisenberg, Riley Keough, Christophe Zajac-Denek, and Nathan Zellner) are wholly committed to bringing to life these mythical creatures as “accurately” as possible. But most importantly, it’s clear these sasquatches are just looking for companionship. They have developed a ritual in the hopes of discovering more creatures like them. These creatures show great intelligence and even deeper emotional wells when they aren’t displaying purely animalistic behavior. At least they have the excuse of being mythical creatures, what excuse do humans who do the same have?

With Sasquatch Sunset, the Zellner brothers have crafted an absolute joke of a film that also serves as a poignant piece of cinema. It’s unconventional and audacious, but it’s also so beautiful. This is the type of film that, if you love it, you’ll have to defend its brilliance for the rest of your life; and for good reason, too. After all, we turn to cinema in the hopes that we can see a reflection of the world around us, and hopefully change our ways to become like the characters we adore, or avoid the pitfalls of the characters we despise. So with this family of ridiculous sasquatches, perhaps we should all remember to live life a bit on the wild side. It seems like there’s far more adventures to be had that way.

Sasquatch Sunset celebrated its world premiere at the 2024 Sundance Film Festival in the Premieres section, and will be released by Bleecker Street later this year.

Grade: B

Director: Rose Glass
Writers: Rose Glass and Weronika Tofilska
Stars: Anna Baryshnikov, Kristen Stewart, Dave Franco

Synopsis: A romance fueled by ego, desire and the American Dream.

Rose Glass introduces the principal characters of Love Lies Bleeding to her audience in the most telling way imaginable. When meeting Lou (Kristen Stewart), she is elbow deep into a toilet that’s beyond clogged. Jackie (Katy M. O’Brian) is drowned out by a constant barrage of gunfire as she is brought around the local shooting range. Immediately, she proves her mettle in the sense that she mocks the use of guns, as her preference lies more in the realm of up-close-and-personal. JJ (Dave Franco) is unfathomably repulsive, and would remain as a simply irritating man-child if he wasn’t a serial abuser to his wife, Beth (Jena Malone), who is also Lou’s sister. And finally, we meet Lou Sr. (an unhinged and wild-looking Ed Harris) who is caring for his oversized bug collection. The visual language of Love Lies Bleeding not only looks beautiful, but delivers expressive meaning with each new scene. And if this film is anything, it’s expressive. Every element seems carefully selected and fine tuned to trigger an audience’s emotions in some capacity. Take, for example, the music of the film, which intensely captures the overall vibe of Love Lies Bleeding. Considering how wild the tone of the film shifts between any given moment, it’s even more impressive. But if one were forced to sum up the film in a single word, I believe the best term would be sultry.

Lou and Jackie meet at Crater Gym, where Lou is the manager. Jackie, after hitchhiking across the country, has ended up in New Mexico as she makes her way to Las Vegas for a bodybuilding competition. While it’s immediately clear how driven Jackie is, there’s, at first, a looseness to her character that is not only compelling for the audience, but for Lou as well. As soon as the two meet, it’s clear there are more than just sparks; there are blazing flames. From that initial night, a raging intensity rings out whenever Stewart and O’Brian are sharing the screen. It’s immediately clear that the steamy first night they share with one another is so much more than a fling. One just has to look into Stewart’s eyes briefly to see that, maybe for the first time ever, she feels seen as something more than just another lost soul stuck in a small town. The first half of Love Lies Bleeding builds off of this dynamic between the two women, and it’s absolutely wonderful. And then, the film majorly pivots until everything comes crashing down.

Any undercurrent of romantic intensity transforms into something different. All of a sudden, there’s a sense of complete loss of control. However, there is still purpose and meaning behind the actions, even if they are more than a bit rash. With a shocking turn, Love Lies Bleeding basically becomes a gritty crime thriller. It’s riddled with drugs, guns, excessively frightening violence, and a ton of sweat. We bear witness to these intense bursts of rage that range from satisfying and worrisome to shocking and upsetting. And all this anger stems from a phrase which is often used jokingly, but in the case of this film, takes on a whole new meaning: Doesn’t love just make you do the craziest things?

The lengths we will go to for our significant others can sometimes be massive. We can find ourselves making the most irrational of decisions in the name of passion. It’s in the second half of Love Lies Bleeding that acts of mayhem begin snowballing in the name of love. But it’s also in this second half where Glass’ visuals begin to become more and more disorienting. Littered through the lens of heavy drug usage, viewers will be treated to a variety of body horror, surreal drug-induced nightmare sequences, and so much more. It’s shocking just how far Glass is able to take this film tonally and visually without overtly stepping into ridiculousness. But one gets the sense that this film, which also becomes much funnier the longer it plays out, knows exactly how far it’s able to push the viewer. This becomes a jet black comedy while also focusing on the horror of losing oneself to outside forces. You get the sense that these characters, all at various stages of their life, share a single thing in common: the deep dread of what it means to no longer make your own choices. But no two characters highlight that fear, and eventual acceptance, more than Lou and Jackie.

The final sequence of the film is, admittedly, a massive swing. Glass’ film shifts a handful of times, but perhaps none bigger than the very final one. Yet it captures this endearingly sweet idea that we can both make our own choices in life, and also give into the insanity that is being in love. We will put ourselves through the worst of it to ensure our partner can sleep soundly nearby. Love Lies Bleeding is incredibly poetic in how it slowly captivates the audience with a depiction of steamy love morphing into something darker, before ultimately making it through to the other side. With only her second feature film, Glass proves that she has an innate sense of filmmaking prowess, and isn’t afraid to make the type of film that will alienate many. But for those who are on board, strap in. Love might be crazy, but Love Lies Bleeding takes it to new heights.

Love Lies Bleeding celebrated its world premiere at the 2024 Sundance Film Festival in the Midnights section, and will be released by A24 in March.

Grade: B+