Editorial: Sundance 2025
Written by Grady Fiorio Original Publishing Date: March 5th, 2025
Should I stay or should I go?
Another year, another Sundance. 88 films, two cities, and much more going on behind the scenes. A new Best Picture nom? Maybe even a win? Like every year, this lineup had its surprises, hits, and misses. I caught 15 flicks in this grab bag of cinema (including one miniseries and a shorts program), and I can’t wait to tell you about them. But first, a little bit about this year’s fest.
While there weren’t any major structural changes from the 2024 fest, I do want to note that Sundance has put some work into improving the flow of the festival. My prayers have been answered regarding the absolute mess that was last year’s waitlist. For those not in the know, the waitlist is a system that allows festivalgoers to get in line for a sold-out film, for the chance to buy a ticket in case of no-shows. It’s more common than you’d think, and with every film selling out nearly instantaneously after going live, it’s a good system to allow avid wait-listers a chance to see big films. Last year’s waitlist was filled with bugs, crashing, and straight-up not working at all, requiring me to make a second account to even use it. For some inconceivable reason, in 2024, the ability to connect accounts was completely removed, so if you wanted to waitlist with a partner, you were probably shit out of luck (as I was multiple times). However, for 2025, the waitlist was heavily cleaned up. While not perfect, this revised system fixed many of the bugs and even brought back account linking with a new companion system that worked better than previous iterations. Hallelujah! Sweet Jesus! Unfortunately, when ticketing opened up this year, the website completely shit the bed (again), leaving me with only three tickets during my six-day stay. Fortunately, the improvements to the waitlist this time around allowed me to bump up from three to 15 and keep my schedule flexible.
Unfortunately, you can’t spell tickets without “corporate sponsors,” that is, if you’re using the alphabet with magic hidden letters that the Sundance Institute apparently has access to. That’s right, ladies and gents, Sundance doesn’t reprogram old flicks, but they do reprogram old controversies. The 2024 fest found itself in quite a trouble spot when comp ticket packages were being given out to corporate sponsors. Once again in 2025, this was an issue. While comp packages are not inherently a bad thing, there was once again an overabundance of all-access packages given out, allowing corporate sponsors to walk into any film without buying a ticket. If it’s a large film that’s sold out, it means that some ticket holders aren’t getting in. It’s hard enough to get tickets for films in the first place, and some spend thousands of dollars just for the opportunity to get them in advance, so the idea of cutting those who played by the rules out of the picture doesn’t sit right with me and many others. This leads to a larger issue with Sundance, which I also discussed in my 2024 breakdown. That being the growing disconnect between the Sundance Institute, which controls the festival, and the audience that attends the festival. With each year of the fest, prices go up, and services go down. Every year since 2023, ticket prices have gone up by $5, bringing the total to $35 per ticket. This year, there were fewer screenings than in previous years, with classic venues removed. The price of merch has gone up, while the quality and selection have gone down (significantly).
But enough about all that. What about the movies? Let’s talk the goods! It wouldn’t be a film festival if it wasn’t a grab-bag mix of a program. The wonderful, the weird, the crowd-pleasers, and the outright stinkers. The big focus this year was documentaries. Of my 15 selections, seven were documentaries (eight if you include one of the shorts). That’s nearly half of my viewings. That’s not exactly new, especially for Sundance, which lined up nearly the entirety of the 2025 Oscar nominations for Best Documentary, but it’s a notable focus shift, as narratives are seeming to dip in quality. I’ve recently felt that the programming for Sundance has been getting weaker and weaker. Every year the number of submissions grows higher and higher, topping over 16,000 films. It’s an incredibly competitive market. With 88 feature slots open, the numbers aren’t exactly what they seem. A bit of a dark secret most audiences (and even filmmakers) don’t know about festivals are preprogrammed films. These are films that completely bypass the submission process and have deals in place to automatically screen at the festival, oftentimes before the cameras even begin rolling. These are usually films with star-studded casts, produced by festival alumni, funded by Sundance grants and programs, and/or films from major indie studios like A24, Neon, Fox Searchlight, and Shudder. To an extent, it makes sense. Sundance is going to want the new A24 film with a big-name star and director before they want a no-name feature from Johnny Jackoff. The issue is, these preprogrammed films take a significant amount of slots away from those who played by the rules, made a standout film, and met the submission requirements. I even saw a film that played at the '23 fest, even though it hadn’t started shooting until after submissions had closed. We all know that the film industry is anything but fair, but this shift away from independent cinema has polluted the output from the programming team while taking away opportunities from truly independent creators. While the exact number of preprogrammed films is unknown, these 88 slots could easily go down to 40 or less for properly submitted features. It also makes clear the decreasing quality of selections from the program. Sundance has seemingly shifted away from narratives that go outside the box to form new identities in the filmmaking landscape. Instead, narrative is replaced with “vibes,” and smart storytelling and directing have been put on the backburner. It feels like there is often a checklist to get into the festival, guarded behind money, star-power, and social message. I want my films to have something to say, but not at the expense of storytelling, and the shift is evident. I often ask myself if classic Sundance films like Napoleon Dynamite, Clerks, or Primer, would have played today. Despite this, there are still plenty of great films to see, many of which are listed here. There are some I missed, with Train Dreams, Omaha, Twinless, and If I Had Legs I’d Kick You, being audience favorites and ones to keep your eye out for.
While films were no doubt the stars of Sundance 2025, the real talk of the town was… well, the town. Park City. Sundance leadership has expressed their desire to leave the state of Utah, and while their contract with Park City lasts through the 2026 festival, the location for 2027 remains in question. Park City still holds a chance, but big hitters like Denver, Colorado, and Cincinnati, Ohio, are in talks to take the spot. If you ask me, leaving Park City is a truly boneheaded decision. There are over 40 years of history and infrastructure in this city, and it’s a massive part of why I attend. There has been a growing rift between Sundance and its audience. Leaving the fest is a huge sign that the Institute has lost touch by disregarding the years of history and hard work that have built the festival into what it has become. If Sundance leaves Park City, then many others will leave too. Growing festivals like Telluride are in a prime position to take the place Sundance is slowly losing its grasp on. Despite my ranting, I love this festival so much, but I can't continue to watch the institute run this into the ground in the name of corporate sponsors. It's just not why I believe in the art of film.
I know my rambling has been long, and my complaining has been even longer, but I lastly want to reemphasize my love for Sundance. It’s my happiest time of the year, and I look forward to it more than any other holiday or celebration, because as a filmmaker, it really is that rewarding. There is a love for cinema in the air, and if you can be in the moment, you can leave the Hollywood bullshit behind and just live in the arts. There’s nothing like it, and I hope that Sundance has another 41 years of life in Park City for generations of filmmakers to come. Now let’s get to some movies!
Big shoutout to all the PR teams that sent screeners and helped out with the press process this year!
*Any film with an asterisk was watched during the online portion of the festival
Films of the 2024 Festival
15. Zodiac Killer Project
Rating: 2/5 Release Date: TBD Distributor: N/A
The Zodiac Killer Project asks the time-honored question of “What if a podcast was a movie?” Wait. You haven’t been deeply asking yourself this question from the root of your soul? Whether you like it or not, director Charlie Shackleton is here to quell your nonexistent queries. Despite the name, Zodiac Killer Project is not a documentary about the Zodiac killer. Instead, this pseudo-documentary follows the story of Shackleton’s failed attempt at making a Zodiac killer documentary, after the book he used as a basis had the rights holders pull out. A pretty clever concept. As a filmmaker, it sounds like a cathartic way of taking the power back after a project falls to the ground.
As much as I did want to like this, Zodiac Killer Project is a drag. While the concept is funny, and Shackleton infuses the film with a lot of his signature dry wit, the final product is too dry and repetitive. From the get-go, the film lets you know what you’re in for. Wide, static, unmoving shots of locations where the documentary would have been filmed, while Shackleton ad-libs what would have been in each scene, had the film panned out. It was much less about the filmmaking process and instead a play-by-play of “I would have shot this here” and “He would have said that.” Shackleton does have a lot of clever things to say about true crime documentaries, but the gag starts to get old after 15 minutes of the same rinse-and-repeat “I’d do this” and “Netflix documentary that.”
There’s zero investigation into the filmmaking process, documentaries, or any deeper relation Shackleton had with his failed project. Just 92 minutes of solo podcast-style ad-libbing. 92 minutes that very quickly feels like 192 minutes. It seems that there was no reason to make this into a film other than that he wanted to shoot something on 16mm film. It’s a YouTube video made into a feature, that would have been much better had it stayed a quarter of the length on the internet. This film also marks an interesting trend this year between the judging panel and audiences, as this film was not well received by crowds but ended up winning the Sundance NEXT Innovator Award, a trend you’ll see coming up.
Shoutout to the director for giving out five free tickets to the waitlist area. I might not have been a huge fan of the movie, but you’re a good dude.
14. Rabbit Trap
Rating: 2/5 Release Date: N/A Distributor: SpectreVision
There are a lot of things you can say about Rabbit Trap. It’s incredibly designed, well-shot, well-acted, and also… complete nonsense. The story follows two British musicians living in an isolated cottage in Wales when they are greeted by a mysterious child who takes too close of a liking to them. What Rabbit Trap really is, is an auditory experience. If there ever was such a genre as auditory horror, Rabbit Trap would fit the bill. So much of the narrative is focused on these three characters and their varying obsession with sounds. It ranges from psychedelic to sexual to spiritual, and you can feel it with every pulse, squish, and vibration coming from the speakers. The sound design here truly is immaculate, and the tech carries what is ultimately a snooze fest. It’s a shame because this attention to sound design almost feels like the birth of a new subgenre, as if you could experience this film with your eyes closed. Unfortunately, this same care and attention are not put into the story or screenwriting. Director Bryn Chainey impresses with the visuals, but he doesn’t use them to say anything of deeper meaning. The film is clearly going for an “up to your interpretation” style, but it leaves so much to your interpretation that there is nothing to make a claim off of. No matter how much I tried to piece together symbolism, concepts, or ideas, I could never really break through. Even when I just tried to be “in the moment” and experience the vibe of the film, it just became a frustrating experience. This is one of those films that is constantly suspense-building to one big moment that never comes. The ending is so underwhelming that I audibly said, “That’s it?!” Even weeks later, I still feel that I’m waiting for something to actually happen. During the Q&A, Chainey hinted that the film is speaking to trauma or long-held secrets, but without the director specifically mentioning this, I would have never guessed in a million years. Despite my many frustrations, I still want to see what this director does next. He clearly has a vision; I just hope he can tune to a tighter frequency the next go-around.
13. Short Film Program 5
Rating: N/A Release Date: N/A Distributor: N/A
This year marked a new experience for me, as I made my first-ever venture into the Sundance Shorts. Specifically, their Drama Block. What were the results? Mixed. There is a lot of good and a lot of… not so good. To get you acquainted with the lineup, the programmed shorts were Hippopotami, Are You Scared To Be Yourself Because You Think That You Might Fail?, Such Good Friends, The Long Valley, AN ALMOST SUCCESSFUL DATING APP LOVE STORY, Suo Jiang, and We’re Not Done Yet.
To start off with the best of the bunch, The Long Valley from directors Robert Machoian and Rodrigo Ojeda-Beck. Now a quick disclaimer. This film comes from friends of friends and was shot near my hometown. I absolutely have a bias, and I want to make that clear from the start. This docudrama follows immigrant farmers in the Salinas Valley of Northern California. It’s a beautiful portrait of the struggle to survive the chaos of day-to-day life, in an all-consuming and often inescapable lifestyle. The immigrant experience is seemingly universal from culture to culture, as different nations go through their own generations of trial as they assimilate into the melting pot of American culture. The Long Valley captures this by presenting the immigrant-farmer life in tableau-like images of life in the valley. The pacing is a bit slow, and it needed an extra interview, but The Long Valley supersedes the slice-of-life genre by presenting you with a slice of lifetimes.
The long-winded Are You Scared To Be Yourself Because You Think That You Might Fail? was also an interesting piece, but starts to show where the cracks in the wall are for this short block. This story follows a trans man shortly after getting top surgery, and the complications between his family and girlfriend, as they try to support him during this trying time. During a pivotal scene early on where the lead character Mad goes to look at his new self in the mirror, he finds himself unable and breaks down into tears. There are really interesting ideas here, as the film starts to approach heavy themes of stress during a dramatic biological and emotional change. There is a thick sadness in the air as feelings of conflict arise, despite the fact that this should be a positive experience. It shows the complexity of the trans experience, not as a straight line but a winding road. Unfortunately, most of these concepts are abandoned as the film shifts into stereotypical first-time short film tropes. The film becomes loose, unending, and contrived, with the camera work following suit, becoming just as plotless as the narrative. It floats around handheld into nothing, as characters stare longingly, most likely looking for where the story went. There are so many interesting questions and experiences this film has to offer, but acts two and three focus more on vibes rather than narrative until it eventually ends without conclusion. I didn’t hate this film, but I just wish it came full circle. Ironically, Are You Scared To Be Yourself Because You Think That You Might Fail? seems too scared to be itself, because it’s not confident enough in its narrative to succeed.
For a quick rundown of the rest of the films, most of these went further into vibe over narrative territory, a huge gripe I have with the growing indie space for films. Hippopotami was a quirky yet confusing piece about a Chinese zoo trip, that loses itself in a very dark ending (I think? It was so unclear). Such Good Friends was pretty funny, but pretty anticlimactic in a story about a friend feeling responsibility over her friend’s death from a voicemail. AN ALMOST SUCCESSFUL DATING APP LOVE STORY was another funny, yet anticlimactic story about death, when a woman goes to her Tinder date’s funeral. I honestly couldn’t tell you what Suo Jiang was even about, as it is all vibes, no plot, with something to do with a Chinese locksmith. At that point, I had nearly tapped out. We’re Not Done Yet was the final of the bunch, taunting me with its title. It’s a frustratingly hollow story about an estranged mother and son during a vacation getaway. Some moments approached a real sincerity, but both characters are written to be so unlikeable and unbelievable, that this too gets lost in a sea of vibes and a starvation for plot. Vibes over plot was the downfall of most of these shorts, as well as most the films near the bottom of my ranking. I find it incredibly frustrating, given how many great films get ignored. If Sundance really is going to be about the best of the best, then they need to start programming like it.
13. Ricky
Rating: 2.5/5 Release Date: TBA Distributor: N/A
There is a long-held tradition of generations of filmmakers bringing their own spin to the genre of “hood films”. Be it Spike Lee’s iconic Do The Right Thing, F. Gary Gray’s hysterical Friday, or John Singleton’s genre-defining Boyz n the Hood. So in 2025, what does Rashad Frett bring to the table? Somehow, everything and nothing all at once. Frett’s film examines post-incarceration life through the eyes of Ricky, a 30-year-old who returns home after serving a 15-year sentence, for a crime that he took the fall for. With an incredible performance from Stephan James, and presented in the now-famous Dogme 95 style of Dutch filmmakers like Lars Von Trier and Thomas Vinterberg, Ricky sets the stage for a wholly unique take on the genre. While this makes for a strong skeleton for Ricky to build upon, unfortunately, these bones fail to manage the connective tissue to bring it all together. The fatal flaw being a weak script that relies heavily on improvisation, a trademark of the Dogme style.
There is something so raw about a 15-year-old trapped in a 30-year-old body. We see Ricky go through the trials of teenage life as a man. Learning to drive, losing his virginity, and getting into spats with his younger brother. It’s all there, but the scenarios and characters only exist when they are needed to direct the plot forward. They give long-winded and unneeded exposition dumps into personal backstory, to give a false sense of closure to plot threads that lead to quite literally nowhere. Ricky is the only realized part of this world, with everything else feeling like artifice.
As much as I did want to like this film, it just goes to show why few directors have been able to tackle the Dogme style. Where other directors take this looseness and use it to direct their ship, Ricky can never get a strong hold over the ropes. Even the creators of Dogme struggled with this concept. What really saves this, is the aforementioned performance by lead Stephan James. Whenever the structure falters, he always brings it back with a tear-jerking performance that rides the line between subtlety and the mental breakdown of a young boy trapped in a man’s world. In a lot of ways, this reminded me of a more polished version of 2023’s To Live and Die and Live. Just like the character, I want Ricky to succeed, but it can’t help but get in its own way.
12. Rains Over Babel*
Rating: 3/5 Release Date: TBA Distributor: Latido Films
Rains Over Babel is many things. Traditional is not one of them. A talking gecko, drug trips to the afterlife, drag queens trying to outshine neon-fashion Catholics, and at the center of it, a bar run by Death herself. This flick kind of came out of nowhere. There was a lot of online hype around this surreal fever dream of a movie, and it really started to pique my interest. I got a last-minute screener for this right as the festival was about to end, and Grady can never say no to a free movie. The result? Rains Over Babel is kind of a mess, but man, it’s got energy. According to writer and director Gala del Sol, Rains Over Babel is meant to be the start of a new cinematic universe, and it sure does feel like it. More specifically, it feels like a season of TV, and I just got dropped into episode 5. The style of writing drops you right into the middle of a complex narrative, expecting you to already know what’s going on and how the systems work in this weird magical realism world.
I haven’t said much about the plot, and the truth is, it’s because I had no idea what was going on for 90% of the movie. From what I could gather, the film follows multiple intertwining stories that connect back to a mystical bar run by Death personified, acting as a narrative hub for all the storylines to converge. Despite my struggle to follow the plot, I also felt compelled to keep watching. Unfortunately, Rains Over Babel is too long and unfocused to achieve its lofty cinematic goals—be it a whole universe or just telling one (multi-threaded) story. I do want to emphasize that I still had quite a bit of fun with this. It was way more action and energy than the majority of Sundance movies. Seriously, programming team, embrace action and high-energy films. Not everything needs to be a three-hour slice-of-life drama about a turtle.
11. Third Act*
Rating: 3/5 Release Date: TBD Distributor: N/A
When we leave this Earth, there’s nothing we can take with us, only a legacy we can leave behind. Third Act follows groundbreaking filmmaker Robert A. Nakamura in the last stage of his life as he explores the complications of being an Asian American artist and revolutionizing Asian American cinema in post-WWII America. It’s an incredibly personal journey, viewed through the lens of Nakamura’s filmmaker son, Tadashi. But Third Act is more than the story of a filmmaker; it explores intergenerational history and the connection between fathers and sons.
What Third Act unfortunately misses is the technical polish to really send its message home. Documentaries live and die by their editing, and Third Act is amateurish at best. While the perspective of a father through the eyes of his son is a unique hook, Tadashi can’t seem to get out of his own way to let his father’s story breathe. Instead, he interjects himself constantly into the narrative and distracts more than he adds. There is still a lot of heartfelt love that can be felt through the faults, but the cracks are too wide to create the solid foundation that a story like this needs.
10. Pee-wee as Himself
Rating: 3/5 Release Date: TBA Distributor: HBO
I broke new ground this Sundance and saw my first miniseries. However, I didn’t exactly realize this was a miniseries when I booked the tickets. You can thank Sundance’s ticketing site for that. My first film-going outing was a whopping three and a half hours spent with Pee-Wee Herman in this new HBO documentary from director Matt Wolf. My introduction to Wolf came from his 2016 documentary short for TIME Magazine, The Face of AIDS. I was incredibly impressed with this deeply compassionate look at the complex subject of how AIDS first hit the public conscience through a photograph of AIDS activist David Kirby, as he lay in bed dying in his father’s arms. It’s a once-in-a-lifetime look at an immensely private and heartbreaking moment in the last minutes of a man’s life. The full documentary short is on TIME’s YouTube page, which you can watch here.
With Pee-Wee as Himself, Wolf delves into the private final days of actor and comedian Paul Rubens, as he secretly dies of cancer. Famously known for his character Pee-Wee Herman, Rubens would use Pee-Wee as his true moniker, with Paul Rubens being a secretive figure known to few. Wolf attempts to crack open the man behind the mask through a series of combative interviews, where Paul tells his story while fighting Wolf both playfully and protectively.
Where Pee-Wee as Himself starts to lose focus is in its talking head approach. At three and a half hours, it can be hard to push through the same style of interview and archival footage over and over again, especially when your subject is as dynamic and creative as the man who brought Pee-Wee Herman to life. Granted, this isn’t a documentary to be watched all at once, as it is being split into a two-episode HBO special. Despite that, it feels like a missed opportunity to make a more focused feature that goes all out to be as creative and special as its subject. What it lacks in focus, it does make up for with the pure presence of Paul Rubens. It’s this combative nature of the interviews that gives Pee-Wee as Himself the spice of life. Paul’s pushback keeps Wolf on his toes and the audience engaged.
As the hours continue, it becomes clear that this pushback serves as an emotional response from Rubens, as the fatality of his cancer diagnosis becomes more evident, unbeknownst to his friends or the documentary crew. As Wolf pries deeper into Paul’s controversies and sexuality, Paul pushes back even further, until he fully cuts off Wolf and his crew from continuing the interview. Due to the secretive nature of Paul’s fast-acting cancer diagnosis, he ended up dying during filming, before a final interview could be completed. What Paul left behind was an iPhone video that, while not a total tell-all, does give some final words where Paul can claim his own identity, without having the world try to claim it for him. It’s a truly touching moment that shows the humanity in a man stripped of his dignity in the public sphere. We all deserve to have the final words on our lives, and Paul got his.
9. All That’s Left of You
Rating: 3.5/5 Release Date: TBA Distributor: The Match Factory (International)
With all these heavy festival films, can’t we just talk about something non-controversial, like… Israel and Palestine. Oh boy. All That’s Left of You is a tough one. The story follows three generations of a Palestinian family as they struggle to survive under the confines of Israeli occupation. I’ll be brutally honest in saying that I had a hard time figuring out how to make heads or tails out of this one. It’s an incredibly difficult story filled with hard truths about life under occupation and needless suffering. While this tackles some very real problems stemming from centuries of conflict, it rides a fine line between message and misery porn.
That fine line is so hard to define. I found myself asking, “Who am I to say what’s ‘misery porn,’ as an American who has never experienced the conflicts of war?” But as a viewer, I can only claim the experience I had in the theater. After concluding its dense two-and-a-half-hour runtime, I’m not sure if I left the theater with something more significant than when I entered. We witness 50+ years of atrocities on screen, but I’m still not sure what is being said about them. There’s a recurring theme of the impact of war through generations, but in its current form, it can often feel more like a highlight reel of misery. The ending gets the closest to finding what that message is but muddies the waters with a “resolution” that goes on for too long and seems unsure of where it stands. This is again where my American ignorance left me contemplating. Clearly, there is truth here, but it’s not fully working as a narrative piece. I didn’t feel wholly satisfied. And maybe that’s the point. Right now, nobody in that conflict feels “satisfied,” as they needlessly suffer. Yoda said it best: “Fear leads to anger, anger leads to hate, hate leads to suffering.”
That being said, for these elements that don’t always land, Writer/Director/Producer/Co-Lead Cherien Dabis proves that she is an incredibly talented and multifaceted artist, leading this project both in front of and behind the screen. During the Q&A, she shared just how difficult it was trying to make this film, especially as production nearly began in Palestine during the October 7th attacks. It’s really amazing what they were able to accomplish amidst these struggles. Every performance on screen is incredibly real, adding to the authenticity of these hard-to-watch moments. The child acting is especially well-crafted, with a wide range of emotions from such a young actor. Even when things aren’t always holding up, you can still feel the passion going into what you’re seeing.
8. Atropia
Rating: 3.5/5 Release Date: TBA Distributor: N/A
Atropia, the big festival winner, garnered the top Grand Jury Prize, while also being awarded a cool 39% on Rotten Tomatoes. That’s right, Atropia seemed to strike a nerve with audiences and the judging panel alike, just in opposite directions. The film is the feature directorial debut from Hailey Gates, known mainly for her work in front of the camera. Atropia follows a group of struggling actors as they clash with new army recruits inside a military roleplay simulation, emulating a fictional Middle Eastern town called Atropia. Comedy ensues as simulated “realism” pushes the brink of absurdity.
In all honesty, I’m not sure where all the hate is coming from. It’s certainly too long (a running theme if you hadn’t guessed), but the unique concept combined with some truly drop-dead funny moments always kept me engaged. One of my favorite bits was when a recruit was found sneaking in an MP3 player. He is granted the new rank of Private iPod, forced to sing any song at the request of his CO, with an iPod duct taped to his helmet. “Private iPod! Play!” The humor goes further as it mirrors the shocking reality of the very real military roleplay simulation known as Medina Wazal, which Atropia is based on. Gates is certainly commentating on blind patriotism in a similar fashion to Starship Troopers, as preconceived and unrealistic stereotypes of the Middle East are used to prepare soldiers for situations they’d never actually encounter. There’s a thick who-rah atmosphere in the air, and it quickly goes up in smoke the second characters find themselves posed with a real issue. It certainly feels relevant now as tensions in the Middle East and Eastern Europe rise to a boiling point, with American leadership doing nothing to turn down the heat. At the end of the film, a line of text reveals that the real-life Medina Wazal has been converted from a Middle Eastern simulation into Russian. It’s a reminder that the humor is backed by horror, and relentless idiots will leave everyday men and women to pay the price.
7. The Legend of Ochi
Rating: 3.5/5 Release Date: TBA Distributor: A24
ET, a family Spielberg classic. Now, just imagine if ET was a violent little asshole gremlin, and made by A24. Congrats! You now have The Legend of Ochi! This film whisks audiences away to a world of magical realism, where a little girl named Yuri returns her funky creature friend, dubbed Ochi, back to his family. As they run from her repressive father with a troubled past, Yuri and Ochi encounter mystical creatures, enchanted forests, and a rugged band of wannabe huntsmen led by Willem Dafoe. It’s great fun, boosted by gorgeous production design and cinematography, with hilarious performances that will melt your heart.
Director Isaiah Saxon uses all his tools to create a hand-crafted world that you can feel through the screen. I especially loved the costumes for Willem Dafoe and his band of dimwitted merry men. This attention to detail, paired with a classic filmmaking style of matte paintings, puppets, and world-building, elevates what is ultimately a story we’ve seen before. It’s also nice to see a festival film that makes you feel more joy than dread.
I hope A24 keeps doing family films, injecting their own brand of weirdness into a stagnating genre. It errs on the side of an 80s PG Spielberg flick, rather than another watered-down Smurfs movie or whatever the hell is being farted out of studios these days. Someone is caring about the process and entertaining all ages in the process. That’s a win in my book.
6. Mr. Nobody Against Putin
Rating: 4/5 Release Date: TBA Distributor: N/A
There are some sounds you can’t unhear. The scream of a mother at her own son’s funeral is one of them. Now, what happens when you’re forced to teach the propaganda that killed that boy? In the documentary Mr. Nobody Against Putin, Russian school teacher Pavel Ilyich Talankin is put in the hot seat as his school is forced into becoming a propaganda machine in the Russian invasion of Ukraine. Using the tools at his disposal as the school’s media and art teacher, Pavel documents the changing landscape, sending footage out to the wider world about these propaganda practices.
As the days go on, Pavel’s security is called into question when the Russian government cracks down on speech against the war, threatening life in prison and possible death. With a mix of pro- and anti-war teachers inside the school, a battle of ideological supremacy and secrecy takes place in an effort to expose these practices and hopefully save the lives of his students. Triumph turns into tragedy as, one by one, these high school graduates are plucked from their desks and put behind a rifle, only to end up in a grave. Documented in real-time, Mr. Nobody Against Putin is a harrowing journey about the genuine bravery it takes to speak truth to power in the face of death, but somehow, Pavel finds a way to do it.
5. Life After*
Rating: 4/5 Release Date: TBA Distributor: Together Films
Ask yourself not, “Why do I want to die?” but rather, “Why doesn’t the world care to see me live?” It’s a hard question being posed worldwide when it comes to the topic of assisted suicide. Groups like Die With Dignity push for the idea that we should all have the choice to write how our last chapter ends, whereas Not Dead Yet believes that this choice devalues life and will push others to close the book on a story not yet finished. Reid Davenport’s new documentary Life After seeks to present us with all the information and question where we stand.
In 1983, a disabled and broken-hearted Elizabeth Bouvia sought the right to die in a long legal battle that extended until the date of her natural death in 2014 at the age of 67. In her own legal proceedings, she was often discussed as a third party, without her humanity being acknowledged, ironically by those who would seek to prevent her death. This battle takes center stage in Davenport’s documentary, painting a brutally honest look at the right to die and the unseen arguments for both sides. Davenport uses the camera to force an often able-bodied audience to look at what they fear most directly in the eye: an ironic fate worse than death—not being granted it in the face of insurmountable pain.
As someone who is generally pro-assisted suicide, I felt the arguments were solid. We should all have the freedom to choose how our life ends, and someone who is in a medical situation beyond repair should be able to make that choice. But Life After had me questioning my own beliefs when bad actors in the medical field use the right to die as a eugenics program to rid society of anyone considered undesirable. In places where assisted suicide is legal, deaths start to skyrocket to an uncomfortable level, with assisted suicide becoming the default option instead of a last resort. The barrier to entry lowers to the point where those who (in my opinion) shouldn’t be considered candidates are given the option. The ages get lower, and the reasons become significantly less severe. There also seems to be a push for devaluing disabled life, regarding it as a blanket “not worth it.” It’s a troubling growing trend, and while my opinion hasn’t been completely swayed, it opened my eyes to a reality I had not seen. Davenport doesn’t stand on one side of the aisle but keenly uses the documentary to ask, “Is death a right? Or can it only be granted by life?”
4. The Ballad of Wallis Island
Rating: 4/5 Release Date: March 28th, 2025 Distributor: Focus Features
8:30 am is a rough time slot for me. If I could never wake up before 10:00 am for the rest of my life, I’d die a happy man. So when I tell you that The Ballad of Wallis Island, a romcom, musical, island adventure, was worth dragging my cranky, sleep-deprived ass out of bed at 6:30 am, you better believe it. The Ballad of Wallis Island takes us to the fictional UK Wallis Island, where Herb McGwyer, one-half of the pop-rock band McGwyer Mortimer, is hired by mega-fan Charles to play a private gig. Unbeknownst to Herb, Charles has also invited Herb’s former bandmate and lover, Nell Mortimer, in an attempt to re-spark their love and musical talents.
Normally, that combination of words would send me straight back under the sheets, but the script is elevated by the incredibly sharp and witty dialogue from writing and starring duo Tom Baden and Tim Key. It’s a uniquely layered and heartfelt comedy that cuts the sap and replaces it with mile-a-minute humor. Their chemistry is absolutely undeniable, and you can see two best friends at work on a creative project, bouncing off each other like greased lightning. Their talent becomes even more apparent when they are upstaging someone as great as their co-star Carey Mulligan. The plot does go into some predictable territory, but like any good story, the characters are at the heart of it all. Director James Griffiths approaches the film with an unobtrusive style that allows Baden and Key to shine, without leaving the presentation completely flat.
The Ballad of Wallis Island might not change your life, but it’s a rare Sundance crowd-pleaser that won’t send the rest of your family running in horror. If anything, the worst part about this movie was the 20-foot-tall guy blocking nearly the entire screen, turning this movie into an audiobook.
3. Opus
Rating: 4/5 Release Date: March 14th, 2025 Distributor: A24
Walking into Opus completely blind as my last film of the in-person festival was a trip. Before I go any further, I recommend you do the same. The movie releases on March 14th, and you can read the rest after you’ve witnessed the madness for yourself. But if you’ve already seen the film or insist on staying, let me crack open Opus for you.
Every year at Sundance has its surprises. Sitting in the theater, waiting for Opus to begin, the director speaks into the microphone and says, “Before I introduce this next cast member, I want to let you know that he sang all his own songs for the film.” My ears perk up. Who could it be? Jeremy Allen White? Pedro Pascal? Hell, even Walton Goggins? “Ladies and gentlemen… John Motherfucking Malkovich.” The crowd erupts into shock and cheers. John Malkovich? Singing? What the hell is going on?! But it doesn’t matter because my excitement is now through the roof. If I thought I had no idea what I was getting into before, now I know I’m really in for a treat. As the lights dim and the movie starts, we’re introduced to an ultra slow-motion concert, as a guitarist wails Funkadelic’s Maggot Brain over the opening credits. That’s when I knew I was going to love Opus.
This feature debut from former GQ Editor Mark Anthony Green follows entertainment journalist Ariel, who is invited to cover a listening party for a new album from pop star Moretti, returning to the spotlight following 30 years in hiding. Inside Moretti’s secretive desert compound, uncomfortable truths come to light as the real reason for his return is revealed. Filled with crazy billionaires, cultists, and influencers, Moretti walks a line between Heaven’s Gate and Michael Jackson, exposing the lifestyles of the rich and famous that Robin Leach would never show you on TV.
Opus is equally hilarious as it is horrifying, a satire not unlike Jordan Peele’s Get Out. While the plot has some similarities, the bold and brash nature of Opus’ direction makes the film a true standout. Moretti is a compelling and psychotic villain, who unfortunately has really good music. I seriously couldn’t get over the fact that it was John Malkovich’s actual voice in those songs, and they were produced that well. Green revealed in the Q&A that the music was mixed and produced by Beyoncé’s team, so it’s not unsurprising that it sounds good, just surprising that they went that far for the film. There’s part of me that genuinely feels guilty for liking the music that much. For the love of God, please put it on Spotify.
The music is good, and the humor is fun, but Opus is a horror film at heart, and a good one at that. What makes it so terrifying is not the jump scares, the body horror, or even the weird spa treatments. It’s how real it is. I won’t go into too much detail, but I’ve been around these types of people before. And yes, they really are this fucking crazy. Opus definitely goes off the rails during its third act, but up to then, it’s scarily accurate. Those who get sucked into the beyond 1% crowd can reach a level of money and ego where nothing else matters anymore. The only way to get your kicks is through humiliation and billion-dollar ego trips. Life becomes a game, and everyone else around them is a pawn to be played. These types attract people like flies to shit, building up an army of blind followers who don’t even know what they stand for anymore. The scariest part is that the harder you try to escape, the more it can become you—something the ending nails down completely.
I’m not entirely sure why, but the Sundance crowd didn’t seem to vibe with this one. This year I seemed to like the ones everybody else didn’t. If there’s anything you can trust me on, it’s this: Get in those rooms, and you will see this film differently.
2. Predators*
Rating: 4.5/5 Release Date: TBA Distributor: N/A
Of all my six years of watching films at Sundance, I can safely say that none have been harder to watch than Predators. It’s the kind of film that genuinely made me want to tear up and vomit multiple times. But not always for the reasons you might think. Incredibly layered and multifaceted, this documentary by director David Osit follows the complex history of the Dateline NBC cultural phenomenon, To Catch a Predator. The series famously followed journalist Chris Hansen as he set up sting operations for men using online chatrooms to sexually prey on children. The show used adult decoys that would lure the men, who would then be confronted by Hansen for a brief one-on-one interview. Afterward, Hansen would say, “You’re free to go,” which would then be followed by a swarm of police coming to arrest the suspect. Camera cut. However, while appearing as a public service to many, To Catch a Predator was a very legally gray production, with much more going on after the cut. Many of the cases on the show could not be prosecuted, with much of the evidence being thrown out, and considered collected through coercion, entrapment, or illegitimate procedure. By the time any such major updates on cases had developed, the NBC team had already moved to the next city to catch the next predator.
Famously, in 2006, this led to the head of the Texas police demanding that the show not be produced in their state when the team found their way to the town of Murphy. Despite this warning, the local county department went ahead with filming anyway. As the team went to film their next episode, they captured none other than Dallas-Fort Worth Assistant District Attorney Bill Conradt in their sights. During a sting on Conradt, his meeting with a “13-year-old boy” decoy was cut short after suspicions that he was being entrapped by the series. The Dateline team and police department then tailed Conradt back to his Texas home, where he shot himself point blank in the head, killing himself, after police entered the building.
The documentary’s second half goes on to explore the larger cultural impact of the series, specifically, YouTube copycats such as the infamous Skeet Hanson. What makes Skeet’s series such an interesting topic of coverage is that he openly admits to the Predators documentary crew that he is lying during various parts of his videos. He even goes so far as to include fake police officers and follow-ups. He clearly states that his only real interest is modeling himself after Hansen to build money and fame off the NBC series. It becomes eerie as he specifically discusses how he has literally modeled himself, building his format, wardrobe, speaking and walking patterns to specifically mimic Hansen. Any shred of legitimacy that Skeet may have is completely wiped by his catchphrase to predators at the end of each episode, “You just got skeeted.” I mean, come on, man. Who the fuck thought that was a good idea? Three 6 Mafia?
Hansen also becomes a target of the documentary when exploring his post-NBC internet series Takedown, which largely maintains the style and structure of To Catch a Predator. Very controversially, Hansen made an episode of Takedown where he targets an 18-year-old boy who pursued a 15-year-old in a state without Romeo and Juliet laws. While only just barely a high school graduate at the time, the show ruined the boy’s life for an action considered legal in many U.S. states. While moral judgment will sway between viewers, many agreed that Hansen’s actions went too far. Since facing scrutiny, the episode of Takedown has been wiped from Hansen’s website, and the boy’s record expunged. However, there still remains an inescapable stain on his life.
These nearly two decades of controversy from To Catch a Predator led Predators to question where the line is between journalism, ethics, and entertainment, thoroughly examining the idea that not all predators were in front of the camera. We all want justice, and we all want child predators off the streets, but how do you reconcile with the long history of sexual violence perpetrated by monsters, while still recognizing that those monsters are humans at the lowest moment of their lives? How do you make sense of it when it’s internationally broadcast for the world to see? Crime deserves punishment, and humans deserve empathy. Director Osit, who is a survivor of childhood sexual assault, wrestles with this theme as he seeks closure for his own traumas while trying to comprehend that this series put a weakened group of men through their own. Predators is a truly unmissable documentary that will leave you questioning nearly every moment.
1. Andre is an Idiot
Rating: 4.5/5 Release Date: TBA Distributor: A24
After 15 films, from stinkers to superstars, what takes the cake? André is an Idiot! My second film of the 25 Fest, this is when things really kicked off with a bang. Another directorial debut, André is an Idiot is a collaboration between director Anthony Benna and the eccentric former viral marketing guru André Ricciardi, proving that cancer has never been funnier! This documentary follows André in his final days as he succumbs to colon cancer after not taking a clear opportunity to get a colonoscopy years prior. Thankfully, André takes his mistake like a champ, wanting to broadcast it to the world, leaving behind a powerful message with his legacy.
Benna works with a craftsman's touch to bring André’s story to light with the same life, humor, and creativity that imbued his very nontraditional 55 years on Earth. The film jumps from talking-head interviews and fly-on-the-wall events to even claymation segments that animate some of the more ridiculous adventures of André’s life. In a tight 88 minutes, Benna fully brings you on the ride with André and his family, getting you to fall in love with his antics, while also processing one of the most complex life challenges we all have to face. Death is never easy to look in the eye, much less on the public stage, but André finds a way to do it and have us all feel a little more at peace.
While not nearly as severe as what André suffers from in the film, last year my dad was diagnosed with prostate cancer, bringing an uncanny level of connection to the plight of André’s children. It definitely hit me a bit harder than it would have before, but it was a cathartic experience nonetheless. I’m happy to say he is now cancer-free and was able to catch his situation before it was too late. The film serves as a great reminder of the fragility of life, and the cards we play in that game makes all the difference. GET YOUR COLONOSCOPIES!
Butts aside, this one is a surefire crowd-pleaser not to miss. It’s irreverent, funny, and heartfelt, with an ending that packs a serious emotional punch. Godspeed, André, you lovable idiot.
