2025 Philadelphia Film Festival Recap

A Magic Carpet Ride Of Cinephile Euphoria 

The 2025 Philadelphia Film Festival was a magic carpet ride of cinephile euphoria. Many films were completely sold out, and the wait lines weaved around street corners. We were all patient, brimming with excitement and energy to get in the doors to see the film, and we enjoyed the banter with fellow festival attendees, discussing highlights of the movies we saw and sharing our perspectives. It brought together a wonderful sense of community. The PFF volunteers were beyond friendly, and we had some really spectacular Q&As. Colman Domingo stands out discussing his stellar performance in Dead Man’s Wire.  Bravo to Larry Korman and Andrew Greenblatt for their roles in making PFF34 possible for all of us. For my complete thoughts on this year's films, please visit www.moviecritic.today. In the meantime, I’m thrilled to recommend some of my favorites from this year to you all now.

Wake Up Dead Man: A Knives Out Mystery

“Wake Up Dead Man” is the best of the “Knives Out” films. It’s cozy, charming, hilarious, playful, witty, adorable, and keeps you guessing all the way through. Star-packed with a wonderfully committed cast who all deliver tremendous performances.  Wake Up Dead Man is bound to skyrocket millions of Netflix subscribers immediately upon release. Daniel Craig is adorable as always in his portrayal of a humorous, southern, charming detective whose newest murder case takes him inside the hidden walls of a local Church with a disturbing history and a peculiar parish, all harboring various chains of secrets. Josh O’Connor is wonderful and heartfelt as the new priest caught up in scandal, and Glenn Close is dynamite as a devout keeper of the guard who may be the one to pull the thread that brings down all the house of cards. The set design of the church makes this very American murder mystery feel like it takes place in a classical English countryside. I very much look forward to sitting on my couch with a cup of hot chocolate and rewatching this fun film as the snow comes down. 

La Grazia

Paolo Sorrentino’s La Grazia is a serious drama, but not so serious that it doesn’t know how to kick back and dance in the face of its characters' conflicts. It is actually a funny and surprisingly sweet film about embracing new chapters and closing old ones with dignity. Toni Servillo won the Volpi Cup for Best Actor at this year's Venice Film Festival for his role as a fictional President of Italy in his final days of office as he nears retirement. 

A lifelong Catholic, he finds himself conflicted about whether he should sign into law a bill legalizing euthanasia and at the same time has to consider the pardon petitions of two individuals who murdered their partners. Anna Ferzetti is magnetic and holds her own as Servillo’s daughter, who also works as his assistant. A fierce supporter of the potential euthanasia bill, she repeatedly questions him on whether he’s made a decision, whilst insisting it has to be his own. The best scene in the film takes place before the third act, where the two of them stand in the middle of a wide horse stable after a beloved horse had to be put down. They calmly, yet firmly, confront one another with their denials, fears, and unspoken truths. It’s one of the best scenes I’ve seen all year. A stark reminder that dramatic confrontational scenes needn’t rely on shouting and trading insults. Sometimes, pushing the person in front of you to seek something better for themself is much more effective as it displays an intimacy they’re not ready to contend with. Servillo is also wonderful in silent moments when he listens to modern rock music on headphones, which has become a secret way of coping with his depression and escapism from uncertainty. The prison visit scenes are also miraculous. I’m very excited to see La Grazia again. What a treat it can be to walk into a film you know so little about and walk out completely breathless.

Hamnet

Jessie Buckley and Paul Mescal might as well be the Jack and Rose of the 2020s in Chloe Zhao’s romantic epic, following the love story between William Shakespeare and his wife Agnes, over the course of their courtship and loss of their son Hamnet, whose death inspires one of the greatest bodies of drama and literature of all time. Agnes spends the early parts of the film seeking comfort from her troubled home life deep in the woods, and she picks herbs and makes remedies. The townspeople gossip that she’s a witch. Shakespeare immediately falls for her, and despite some adorable resistance on her end, she falls hard as well. Max Richter’s “On The Nature Of Daylight,” which is the same score used for Arrival with Amy Adams, is used for Hamnet’s final scene, which will tear your heart out in the best way possible. A deeply human love story about endurance and the beauty of using art as a form of healing, Hamnet is sure to make many more audiences weep within the next few months.

Blue Moon

It’s a bit cliché to say that a period film takes you back in time, but Blue Moon really does this in such a simple yet profound way that makes you not want to leave. Over the course of a single night in 1943, Lorenz Hart (Ethan Hawke) leaves the Broadway premiere of Oklahoma! To drown his sorrows at Sardi’s restaurant, where preparations are for the opening night celebrations. A melancholy Hart bemoans the success of Oklahoma! As he knows, the first show his creative partner Richard Rogers (Andrew Scott) had with someone else, Oscar Hammerstein II (Simon Delaney), will be the biggest hit of his life, and he did it without him. 

Hart’s alcoholism has verged on self pitying but audiences catch him on a night when his longing to be better is really genuine and he laughs and converses with bartender Eddie (Bobby Cannavale) and Pianist Morty (Jonah Lees), one really feels he might all end up back on track despite Blue Moon’s devastating opening which takes place not long after the events of the film. The arrival of Margaret Qualley as a dazzling college student whose innocence, drive, and beauty enchant the bewitched Hart to no end offers Blue Moon some much-needed warmth and joy. The two of them pouring their hearts out in a coat room towards the end of the film is such cinematic excellence, you wish it would go on forever. Ripley’s Andrew Scott is not as icy as Rogers as you might expect, but his body language and tone definitely indicate he’s had enough of Hart’s nonsense and that, despite outward appearances, he’s saddened that he’s giving up on a man he still admires and cares for so much. Hawke’s portrayal of Hart’s downfall is a tightrope not many actors could muster. He makes it so audiences see his pain in raw light while also showing why those in his corner didn’t trust him anymore. Blue Moon ends with melancholy but not sadness, a passion, but not a promise. Art goes on. It has to. 

The Mastermind

Kelly Reichardt’s The Mastermind is a quietly silly heist film you wouldn’t expect from the filmmaker who tells the story of human life within the confines of the silent observational day-to-day existence of her characters. Inspired by the 1972 robbery of the Worcester, MA Art Museum, Josh O’Connor takes quite a departure from his warmth and lovability in Wake Up Dead Man as James, a struggling family man and art school dropout in Framingham who plots to steal art from a sleepy suburban museum while the nation rages over the Vietnam War. The film has been described as a struggle between the allure of individualism and the necessity of collective action. James is not struggling, and I doubt you’ll feel sorry for him when it becomes necessary for him to go on the run. He’s not struggling… He’s simply unmotivated. His parents (Hope Davis and Presumed Innocent’s Bill Camp) have brief but crucial scenes that offer some answers for the unspoken but obvious family dynamics. His father’s a respected local judge who presents himself as judgmental and emotionless, while his mother hesitantly but obediently supplies James with money when he asks to compensate for the specifics of her maternal guilt. James' wife, Terri (Alana Haim), is really the only character who has any right to complain, but she doesn’t. The closest she comes to is the sound of her smashing their bedroom upon discovering James' involvement in the robberies. She’s too exhausted to fight with someone she clearly regrets marrying, but unlike James tries to do something about her circumstances. She works hard for their family in an architecture firm as a secretary and tries her best to shield their twin boys from what will soon be public knowledge of her husband’s crimes. The glares she gives are spine-chilling in their ordinary resentment. Kristen Stewart was originally supposed to play Terri, but dropped out to finish The Chronology Of Water. Perhaps the knowledge of her original casting made me look at Terri deeper than I might have otherwise, but these are the kinds of characters one can expect from Reichardt. “The Everydayers”. Those making it from one hour to the next, regardless of who is in front of them. 

James is not a typical criminal. He wants to be, but he’s not smart enough, and one could easily make the case that political restlessness is as much a factor for his actions as his laziness. The Mastermind has an unexpected but funny ending, and as with all of Reichardt’s films, leaves you itching for her next role. She knows how to make audiences feel seen in relation to her often “Loser” characters without making them feel like losers in return. Sometimes, a simple nod acknowledging the exhaustion of everyday life is more gratifying than you’d think.

Sirat

Oliver Laxe’s Grand Jury Prize winner at Cannes dances in the face of oblivion with such fearlessness and humility. That must be why people love it so much. That it was shot with mostly non-professional actors makes its intensity all the more believable. It follows a group of friends at a rave in Morocco who agree to help a man and his son who’ve traveled from Spain to search for their daughter and sister, respectively, and they haven’t heard from her in 5 months. The mandatory evacuation and shutdown of the rave as a result of a war breaking out sends them far out into the desert as they make their way to another rave where the daughter might be present. By the time landmines enter Sirat, there’s already been some devastating events that’ve transpired. The cinematography is beautiful and liberating under the boiling Moroccan sun, and the sound design of the rave and the landmine explosions is captured perfectly. Sirat may feel like a tragedy at times, but ultimately, it’s a very empowering universal story of a human being's right to dignity, even if that means going out with dignity. It’s also a reminder that the global crisis surrounding landmines is nowhere near finished, particularly in Africa. I’m glad Neon picked up Sirat. It’s precisely the kind of game-changing filmmaking that is guaranteed to go far so long as it lands in the right and most accessible hands. I’m sure it will continue to do very well when it comes out nationwide in a week. 

It Was Just An Accident

Jafar Panahi’s Palme d’Or-winning drama, following a group of former Iranian prisoners fighting to clarify the identity of their potential captor, who one of them abducted after recognizing the sound of his artificial leg was certainly worthy of winning. It’s not what I personally would’ve chosen. I realize it may be ignorant to compare films simply because they come from the same country, but it’s not as though Iranian films are released in America every week, and they often share similar themes of survival and liberation under the ongoing regime. I found last year's The Seed Of The Sacred Fig to be a superior film. There was simply more character development, and it was very claustrophobic. One could really feel the fabric of an already divided family continuously coming undone. The characters of It Was Just An Accident were the best aspect of the film. They were sad and funny and sweet and unflinching and passionate. Their journey takes them through the ringer over the course of a single day, and only two of them opt to stay all the way through. It’s a slow and intense buildup to a confrontation under a tree at night in the pitch black. That scene, for me, was in many ways the entirety of the film. It would’ve made a great short. Panahi is a brave and brilliant man, a fearless filmmaker, and I’m so happy for him that he’s received such an achievement. 

I’m sure many audiences will enjoy the conversations to be had after their post-screenings. I passionately await Panahi’s next act of heroism. 

Sound Of Falling

Curiosity exerts a strong and mighty hold in the work of Mascha Schilinski, whose sophomore feature “Sound Of Falling” is an instantly hypnotic and unflinching look at childhood and adolescence through the multiple eyes of innocence that slowly become undone by the world around them. We follow the perspectives of Alma, Erika, Angelika, and Lenka (Hanna Heckt, Lena Urzendowsky, Lanei Geiseler, and Lea Drinda) across four different time periods, starting shortly before World War I, the end of World War II, the 1980s, and the early 2000s. Set amongst the same house and surrounding grounds in Germany, the setting has its own character. Every time you see the laughter, joy, happiness, despair, anguish, and grief amongst these girls, you sense the house and the landscape feeling all of this as well. Even the trees seem to breathe from the same air. Close-ups of the girls' hands as they swim under the water symbolize this eternal reaching out towards something. They’re calling out for us to take hold of them. Sound Of Falling is the 21st century’s “The Virgin Suicides”. Haunting, dreamlike, and beautiful, I truly cannot wait to see this one again.

No Other Choice

Park Chan-wook’s No Other Choice is no Parasite, but succeeds in keeping audiences engaged and in raging fits of laughter all the way through. A man’s tranquil and comfortable life with his family is threatened when he’s laid off, and the only course of action is a job for which several more qualified candidates are competing. The ultimate decision to “eliminate” his competition one by one is not as unlikely as it may seem once you see it on screen. There’s something not right about our lead, but in a way that feels universal without making you feel fear about yourself. No Other Choice is an honest look at what those words really mean in 2025, whilst maintaining a very much needed sense of humor. 

I look forward to laughing at this one again. 

Frankenstein

Guillermo Del Toro’s Frankenstein is his magnum opus, his ultimate masterpiece, and the pearl of beauty he’s been working towards his entire career. Every moment on screen shows this truth. Fascinated and attached to “Monsters” or rather who the world sees as monsters, Del Toro retells Mary Shelley’s timely classic, leaving audiences in a spellbound trench of wonder and exhilaration. Oscar Issac is unrecognizable as a mad scientist who, out of grief and potential madness, resurrects a multitude of corpses into one man (Jacob Elordi), an unkillable creature whose search for love, warmth, and acceptance in a cruel and cold world sends him on a journey of self-discovery, vengeance, and ultimately forgiveness. Del Toro builds his entire world here, as he does on every film he’s done, and what a world it is. Elordi delivers one of this year's best and most beautiful performances as “The Creature”. Everything from his eyes and voice to the way he walks, he’s truly a magnet of sheer beauty engulfed in longing and hurt. 

Issac is a powerhouse as a man whose generational trauma leads him on a path towards destruction, and Mia Goth is enchanting and illuminating as a rare beauty whose bond with the creature offers this dark film so much much-needed warmth. The Shape of Water was masterful and unforgettable. It was also a very light film in comparison, whereas Frankenstein is much more frightening and heartbreaking. But like The Shape Of Water, its ending is very hopeful and should leave audiences with a sense of wonder that feels years behind them as we all look amongst ourselves longing for the creature and his loving embrace. Del Toro knows how to spark that kind of unspoken faith in all of us. I'm sure it will wow audiences for years to come. 

Peter Hujar’s Day

A simple film that can radiate such a magnum opus epic quality is always a surprise. It’s even better when that kind of film has a very short runtime without ever feeling rushed. Over the course of 76 minutes, audiences are taken through various moments in the recorded conversation between gay pioneer and acclaimed photographer Peter Hujar (Ben Whishaw) and his friend, journalist Linda Rosenkrantz (Rebecca Hall), one day in December of 1974. Set in New York City in a time when artists were struggling to make money amongst the backdrop of various revolutions, the film makes you feel relaxed as though you’re meeting up with an old friend and enjoying wine with them, and letting loose in ways you rarely get to. The cinematography has a very home-video feel. I’m surprised A24 was not able to nab this one. Whishaw and Hall are the only people onscreen for the whole film. It probably cost less than $20k to make this film. The two discuss petty people in their business, their own repetition of bad habits, and even their sexual propositions that were often present in the art world of the 70s. Imagine Tennessee Williams and Susan Stamberg lounging about in their apartment, and that’s the film for you. Scenes occur in the kitchen, on the bedless mattress, the rooftop, and continue well into the night. A sweet and moving glimmer of raw friendship set at least ten years before Hujar’s eventual death from Aids. The real Linda Rosenkrantz was very involved with this film, and Rebecca Hall captures her wit and generous attention to detail. Sometimes the simplest films are the greatest films. 

Dreams

Michele Franco’s Dreams is certainly an acquired taste. It’s one of those films that exist solely for the discussion to be had after. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, per se, but I doubt most audiences have it in them to carry out conversations. Some conclusions are simply too easy to come to, and anything beyond that just seems unlikely amongst the vast hopelessness of 2025. My brother and I had a great, stimulating, and often hilarious conversation with our mother about Dreams after we saw it. Jessica Chastain has never played someone so wretched and nasty. Her performance as a philanthropist whose sexual affair with a Mexican Ballet dancer turns toxic as her racist embarrassment to be seen with him culminates in dire consequences for them both is a sharp departure from her usual body of work. I loved the press conference she participated in when the film premiered in Berlin earlier this year. Dreams marks Chastain’s second collaboration with Michele, following Memory, and it’s actually not hard upon reflection to see what attracted her to Dreams. 

I think that following most audiences’ addiction to the drama found in HBO’s Succession, they’ll be craving something more substantial in stories following wealthy people than seeing Jessica walk in and out of rooms and eating fruit that she never finishes anyway. I think Dreams was very accurate in its depiction of liberal racism as well as the everyday ugliness that Latinos go through often right in front of other people, much to what similarly proves to be indifference. Maybe I’m mistaken. Maybe audiences will have deeper conversations when Dreams is released nationwide. I just am too used to people using what they find offensive as an excuse not to analyze films they simply don’t want to talk about anyway. Dreams is not an offensive film, but the direction the film ultimately takes sparks concerns that aren’t entirely unreasonable. The ending alone is so bleak and brutal, you feel punched in the gut. Dreams is not a film I liked. It’s not a film I particularly appreciated, but it’s a film I RESPECTED. I respect Michele’s ability to channel his internal misery into his work and request others to take notice of what he knows to be universal for his people. Just because something greatly concerns a certain group of people doesn’t mean they should be burdened and obligated to start necessary conversations by themselves. The U.S. has survived for so many years due to its relationship with Mexico. Dreams offer a chilling and ugly portrait of how these relationships are so one-sided in a film that may even serve as a scream for help, amongst what’s proven to be the worst year in history for America’s international relations. I’m sure the smartest of audiences will welcome the chance to talk about this film soon. It’s vital and a saddening acknowledgment of what America truly is. 

The Voice Of Hind Rajab

Only a few hours ago, my brother texted me that The Voice of Hind Rajab has finally secured U.S. distribution. I feel tremendous relief. It’s only been almost two months since the film premiered in Venice and brought the world to its knees and many souls to a standstill. For a cinema this masterful, that’s way too long. Many films secure distribution before the festival’s end. Bravo for “Willa” (The same distributor who secured last year’s criminally underrated La Cocina) and the Philadelphia Film Society for not shying away from this most controversial film that ought to be on everybody’s list when it comes out in December. The real live recordings of tiny Hind Rajab, the six year old girl who was brutally and barbarically murdered by the Israeli Defense Forces on January 29th, 2024 are used throughout the course of 80 minutes as the dying girl trapped in a car under open fire makes a desperate call to Red Crescent volunteers fight through hell and high water to get an ambulance to her. The Voice of Hind Rajab is shattering and soul-destroying, but you walk out with enormous relief that there are souls out there brave enough, selfless enough, and smart enough who fought tooth and nail to get this story told to the world. That feeling alone is worth everything, as it raises hope in our most hopeless times. 

Blue Film

Elliot Tuttle’s debut feature “Blue Film” wasn’t the most re-watchable film I saw this year, but it’s the one I can’t stop thinking about. 

The film is an unforgettable chamberpiece. Starring former boxer turned actor Kieron Moore as Aaron, a gay camboy/escort who agrees to one night with a mysterious client offering fifty thousand in cash. The client turns out to be his former teacher (Reed Birney), a convicted pedophile who went to prison and hasn’t seen him in years. The two have a long night of the soul as they each battle their demons and confront the sharpest corners of everything they’re holding inside. It reminded me of HBO’s version of Scenes From A Marriage in the sense that tone and mood can change on a dime when you’re following characters with as much complexity as these two. Yelling at someone and punching them in the face doesn’t prevent them from ordering pizza and laughing together 30 minutes later. Crying and listening intensely don’t prevent them from reminiscing on what is surely unhealthy. To say that Blue Film is a bold film is the understatement of the century. It’s not afraid to shock, but nothing is for shock value. The unimaginable can only be analyzed through the willingness of an audience to enter their world, and Blue Film gives audiences no choice in the matter. I’m sure it will be picked up for distribution eventually. Many have been too afraid to touch it, as well as various film festivals proving once again that the soul of Philadelphia can always be relied on for the very best and most unorthodox of what cinema has to offer. 

Moore is a great find, and I look forward to seeing him rise on screen. Veteran actor Reed Birney is haunting and almost phantomlike in his shockingly approachable mannerisms of a character I don’t know how to feel about. I know Birney’s done tremendous work over the years. I only know him as the father of a school shooter in Massachusetts, in which he starred alongside The White Lotus’s Jason Isaacs and The Handmaid's Tale's Ann Dowd. I close my eyes, and I can easily see Stanley Tucci, Bradley Whitford, or even Billy Crudup playing this role (Actors who can be both creepy and human on instant command). I’m glad Birney got it, though. It’s an easier character to stomach from someone not quite as famous to many audiences. Blue Film is upsetting but not miserable. Often resentful but not hateful. The ending scene, the following morning, where the two sit on the front steps overlooking the morning sun, is the equivalent of two soldiers who’ve just been through a war. It’ll be tough finding a distributor for this one, but I have no doubt it’ll happen. Quality always speaks for itself eventually. 

After The Hunt

Though not officially part of the festival this year, I did manage to see Luca Guadagnino’s After The Hunt while in Philly, and I can’t not sing its praises, especially for Julia Roberts, who reminds us what she can do with material this juicy. She commands the screen and towers over her audiences in this film, whilst still maintaining a sense of quiet impending doom as she continues to sink into exposure. “I predicted this,” she says late in the film. “There’s always been something rotten in me. I knew it’d be exposed right before I could fully expunge it.” I can’t stop thinking about this line that is delivered with such rawness and seethed in so much rage and self-hatred. By this stage, Robert’s Yale professor, Alma Imhoff, has fallen from grace. She’s lost the respect of her protege student Maggie (Ayo Edebiri) for failing to fully support her after accusing Alma’s co-worker and best friend Hank (Andrew Garfield) of sexually assaulting her. 

Alma has also been let go from her job for forging a prescription from faculty member psychiatrist Kim (Chloe Sevigny) and is too ashamed to face her loyal and long-suffering husband, Friedrik (Michael Stuhlbarg). There’s a constant ticking sound throughout After The Hunt. One piece of unenviable information leads to another. I found the entire film so addicting from start to finish. Great script, great cast, great tone that maintains its ability to frighten its audiences. It’s definitely a film that will age well and face far more critical acclaim upon revisitation a few years down the line. People are too upset, and the film hits way too close to home in our current cultural climate. After The Hunt is desperately urgent, but its urgency has no deadline. We’ll still have the same problems even ten years from now. It’s horrifically fascinating how society keeps making the same mistakes. I was also fascinated by the film’s portrayal of how life as an Ivy League institution is truly life or death for some people. The way these people live their lives, so on the edge, whilst maintaining a facade of such calm demeanors, is so unhealthy, but they all pull it off, and it’s thrilling and terrifying to see up close. Publish or perish draws new meaning.  Andrew Garfield has never taken on such a disturbing role before proving once more he’s one of the most versatile actors out there, and Ayo Edebiri, who has become such a lovable household name from The Bear, gets to show a nastier side in a character that’s so cunning and unpredictable. I’ll definitely be seeing the film again before it officially leaves theaters.  

Young Mothers

Five young mothers living in a shelter strive for a better future for themselves and their kids amidst challenging upbringings. The Dardenne brothers have always been so sensitive and tell stories of various people whose daily lives are never given the time of day by the real world, and Young Mothers is a beautiful and perfectly shot film of struggle and generational patterns. Young Mothers won the screenplay award at Cannes this year and is Belgium’s official submission for the next Oscars. Its tone is very episodic. It truly jumps from one mother to the next. This way of filming makes it so that even when they intersect, it’s still very much the story of whoever the scene started with. It reminded me of Netflix’s Adolescence, and I can’t seem to figure out why. So much of life is just waiting for the worst time to happen. Seeming people fight to avoid it completely seems similar in comparison at this point. Young Mothers is, nevertheless, a very hopeful film and a miraculous feat for visibility in an increasingly hostile age for young unmarried families. 

Bunnylovr

Katarina Zhu directs, writes, and stars in this breathtaking debut that still lingers in my mind. She’s immaculate as Rebecca, a drifting Chinese American cam girl struggling to navigate an increasingly unstable relationship with a strange new client (Austin Amelio), reconnecting with her gambling addicted and dying father (Perry Yung), moving on from her ex who she still harbors feelings for (Jack Kilmer) and relating to her best friend (Rachel Sennott) whose newfound success is in direct contrast to Rebecca’s sense of aimlessness. Roughly 86 minutes, Bunnylovr is a deeply relatable and intriguing portrait of millennial angst and Gen Z’s increasing sense of loneliness and displacement. 

It’s telling how the title completely removes the E in Bunnylovr. The portrayal of sex work online seems more normal and less judgmental in the aftermath of last year's sublime masterpiece Anora. Stories about sex workers need no boundaries. Only those that are to be pushed. Rebecca is sent an adorable bunny by her new client, who creepily insists on having it lie on her stomach as she sleeps, and he watches. The bunny becomes both a source of comfort and a symbol of Rebecca’s sense of longing and self-isolation. Sennott is hilarious as Rebecca’s well-meaning but aloof and often tone deaf best friend. Both friends in real life, the chemistry is so relatable and offers a lot of lightness to a film that isn’t extremely dark but very saddening as it goes on. It ends with a positive chance at a new chapter for this cam working heroine and was an excellent choice to be part of Philly’s lineup. 

Silent Friend

Set in a botanical garden in Germany, a magnificent and beautiful old tree is the source of study and connection for various people loosely connected in different eras. Moving back and forth between 1908, 1972 and 2020, the tree bares witness to the first female student of the local research university (Luna Wedler), a lonely young man who finds himself drawn to the nurturing and preservation of a special plant (Enzo Brumm) and a professor working with his online colleague (Lea Seydoux) during covid to study the connection plants and nature feel despite the ignoration of the many humans who surround them. Silent Friend is an adorable, gentle, and fascinating glance into a part of our world we don’t often think about, and it reminds us that connection and language take on many forms, and the beauty to be found within that is a true jewel to behold. 

Dead Man’s Wire

Dead Man’s Wire is truly one of those films where the era is very much a character in its own right. The film depicts the 1977 kidnapping by Tony Kiritsis of his bank mortgage (Darce Montgomery), in which he demanded hostage money and an apology from the bank’s manager and father of the captive (Al Pacino). Local detective Michael Grable (Cary Elwes), who grew up with Kiritsis, is roped into the crisis over the next couple of days, as well as radio personality Fred Temple (Colman Domingo) and ambitious reporter Linda Page (Myha’la). Dead Man’s Wire is a gripping and often entertaining 70s-style thriller that is nevertheless so deeply rooted in today’s resentment that so many of us have for one another. This is not a film that makes us feel bad about it, and I give Gus Van Sant a lot of credit for that. Eventually, people break, and Skarsgard’s depiction of a man truly coming undone is not over the top or glorified. You want him to prevail, and audiences who remember this story and lived through it are bound to be the most saddened by it. I definitely can’t wait to see it again. It wastes no time and pulls no punches. We need more films like it.  

Sentimental Value

Sentimental Value was the perfect film to end the festival with. The Grand Prix winner at Cannes this year is as miraculous as everyone says. After the death of their mother, Sissel, sisters Nora and Agnes Borg (Renate Reinsve & Inga Ibsdotter Lilleaas) are forced to confront their distant father Gustav (Stellan Skarsgard), a once-famous but now almost forgotten film director who abandoned the family when the girls were still young. Nora, now a driven stage and television actress, has prioritized her career, while Agnes chose a traditional life with a husband, child, and secure job. Gustav, convinced that an autobiographical film will be his ticket back to fame, wants to tell the story of his mother, who took her own life in the family home in Norway. This is a home still owned by him and haunted by the trauma his mother endured at the hands of the Nazi’s during the war. He offers the lead to Nora, but she firmly refuses, leading to him offering the part to American star Rachel Kemp (Elle Fanning) instead. 

As filming begins, Gustav seizes the opportunity not only to revive his artistic legacy but also to mend the deeply fractured relationship with his daughters. Renate Reinsve is continuing to rise and conquer, and she’s doing it all without the nonsense of Hollywood. I could stare at her porcelain face 24 hours a day and could not figure her out. Some actors are radiant mysteries, and she’s as miraculous here as she was in last year’s criminally underrated Armand and, of course, the greatest there ever was, The Worst Person In The World. Elle Fanning is always a treasure to watch. She makes Rachel perky and adorable without turning her into a cliche or a fool. She’s really a very smart and sweet young woman who's very perceptive and knows instantly she’s been unknowingly drawn into a family dynamic, not as a pawn, but something very close to that. She harbors no bitterness and wants to make people whom she idolizes proud and not disappoint them. As she dyes her hair brown like Nora's, she continues to recognize how it should be her in the role. They don’t particularly look alike, but when they sit next to each other in Nora’s theater, they absolutely do. It’s a haunting but beautiful scene of grace and honesty. Skarsgard is humorous, raw, and charming whilst effortlessly displaying an arrogance that makes you instantly understand why his family is so estranged from him. Sentimental Value ends with a new chapter for all of them, and the film is visually stunning and heartfelt. I’m beyond excited to watch again, and I look forward to seeing it praised at next year's Oscars.