no. 1
title: submarine
director: richard ayoade
category: spotlight
rating: 5 out of 5



no. 2
title: we were here
director: david weissman
category: u.s. documentary competition
rating: 5 out of 5



no. 3
title: page one
director: andrew rossi
category: u.s. documentary competition
rating: 5 out of 5



film reviews forthcoming who knows when; it occurred to me that some of these films might be premiering at festivals/theatres now, so i wanted to put the word out that these are incredible pieces of filmmaking. if you have the opportunity, see them.

title: becoming chaz
directors: fenton bailey and randy barbato
category: documentary premieres
rating: 3.5 out of 5



chaz bono is a charismatic human being, who, with his longtime partner sara(h) at his side, undertakes gender reassignment, deciding to document his transition on camera. for a child who grew up literally in front of the camera on the sonny & cher show during the 70s, it's little surprise as to why he feels comfortable with the intimate, sometimes reality-TV style of this documentary. the film focuses on the "everyday," with ample screen time for domestic quibbles, meals, pet affection, family, and friends.

directors fenton baily and randy barbato document the transition with judicious care, and still the primarily heteronormative and close-minded audience at a prestigious film festival made their discomfort audible. while i enjoyed the slice-of-life film, what stands out to me after a few months away from utah was the experience of watching the screening surrounded by people not altogether ready to witness a transman shaving, receiving testosterone shots, or eating sandwiches. apparently.

though becoming chaz was one of the first films picked up by oprah winfrey's network (OWN)--which will feature a documentary club in the spirit of her book club--it is clear that middle-america has transphobic (and, unfortunately, sizeist) leanings, even when the stories are handpicked by oprah, presented by rosie o'donnell (literally. she was in the audience), and handle the hard questions like an after-school special. but if any film has the opportunity to increase visibility of the trans community for a mainstream audience, maybe this will be the one. 

title: higher ground
director/screenwriter: vera farmiga
category: u.s. dramatic competition
rating: 3 out of 5



higher ground tells the story of one woman's awakening and growth, woven on the tapestry of spirituality and the school of hard knocks. director and screenwriter vera farmiga also stars as the lead, a woman named corinne. she "gives yet another richly nuanced performance, [tackling] complex issues with sophistication and graceful insight, crafting a moving story about the transformative powers of faith and doubt." (source.)

while it is obvious farmiga is skilled--the script, direction, and pacing were impeccable--i found my interpretation of the storyline to be impressively biased: that embracing faith is the antithesis of being an interesting human being. the film portrays faith as an inevitability, an easy solution, a consolation prize for living life. hallelujah? by the end of the film, i felt strongly that the characters' enlightenment was more of a plot fail, a dead-end, than a solace.

the audiences loved this film, though. but there is a strength to farmiga's story--either her story, or her storytelling--that felt palpable, honest, beautiful. flawed, but beautiful. many scenes felt candid and raw, autobiographical. in all the ways that good cinema can be, i found higher ground polarizing: a film that read, to me, like a manifesto for atheism far more than a testament to how awesome god is; others (like those many behind me singing along with the closing credits hymn, for serious) undoubtedly felt buoyant, connected. walking out of the theatre that night, i ruminated on this, and wondered if this open interpretation was indeed the intention of the director. maybe i'd know more if i had stayed for the Q&A.

title: the catechism cataclysm
director/screenwriter: todd rohal
category: park city at midnight
rating: 2.5 out of 5



there is a certain amount of ridiculousness i can go for (see the forthcoming review for codependent lesbian space alien seeks same). then there is the kind of ridiculousness that compromises its strength and uniqueness for the unsupported bizarre. the catechism cataclysm is that kind of film.

in this absurd dark comedy, we are introduced to father billy, a rock and roll loving priest who's calling seems to have been a wrong number. after failing to connect to the church patrons, father billy decides to take a sabbatical to learn more about himself, nature, and the will of god. because father billy apparently is incapable of maintaining interpersonal relationships, the logical choice for an accomplice is his sister's high school boyfriend. robbie--whose life is in no better shape than father billy's appears to be--begrudgingly accepts, agreeing to a canoe trip. after father billy's first beer, getting lost, two mystical japanese girls, and the arriving of nightfall, things go expectedly awry.

though the character development and solid handling by the actors propel the film towards what feels something, the story fails to be interesting or go anywhere other than the Ridiculous and the Unbelievable. in some ways, these elements pay tribute to the best of the b-movie horror genre, but that may or may not have been rohal's intention with the film. it is telling to say that many people walked out of the film before it ended; my staying through the credits was out of idle curiosity, only to be treated to an unsatisfactory ending. which is not to say that the catechism cataclysm was absolute rubbish, but it could have used a little bit of god's loving touch to make it less lame.

title: jess + moss
director/screenwriter: clay jeter
category: new frontier
rating: 3.5 out of 5


jess + moss is a mixtape of a movie: a kaleidoscope of senses invoked by profiling the lives an adolescent girl named jess, and her younger friend, moss. but where the film is a character sketch of daily adventures and playing house, it's story is deliberately elusive. where are their families? other townspeople? under what circumstances are jess and moss brought together--for sunset bike rides and fireworks and the studying of nature?

director clay jeter works wonders with his cinematography: a palpable and powerful tapestry of color, texture, light, audio. the simplicity of the film gives one a sense of revelry, a vivid nostalgia for what it is like to be young and to find mystery in every detail, every found object and tiny creature. sundance writes that jeter "delicately imposes a complex assemblage of ways of looking and listening; planes of focus, select pieces of music, and expert sound engineering call attention to cryptic, but suggestive, details as interludes..." for a newcomer to cinema and the festival, his film is sophisticated and symbolic, and an inspiring snapshot at what is to come.

title: mad bastards
director/screenwriter: brendan fletcher
category: world cinema dramatic competition
rating: 3 out of 5


sometimes, the first film of the festival holds a special little place in your heart.

the film documents life for three generations of australian men, each in pursuit of their own truth, fighting the demons that make them each "mad bastards." director/screenwriter brendan fletcher works with the aboriginal communities of northwestern australia, pulling recurring themes from stories handed down through generations to create his script. the result is an authentic and seasoned story of indigenous life, fraught with anger, struggle, prejudice, and substance abuse. the community reflected in mad bastards also stars in it, and the authenticity of their story is one of the hallmarks of fletcher's story. the landscape of the region is beautifully utilized throughout the film, complimented by the music of the legendary broom musicians the pigram brothers.

title: the troll hunter (trolljegeren)
director/screenwriter: andre ovredal
category: park city at midnight
rating: 4 out of 5



this charming and satirical norwegian tale is a mockumentary mix of equal parts blair witch project and spinal tap, following three student filmmakers to remote locations in norway, trailing behind a "real life" troll hunter. hans, a crotchety mountain man mistaken for a bear poacher, is followed by the students, who discover their childhood legends about trolls in the forests are, in fact, truth. as a secret government operative, hans is tasked with concealing the existence of trolls from the unsuspecting public of norway. (so that's where all those stone fields come from!)

director and screenwriter andre ovredal works with conventions of the traditional suspense/thriller genre, using found-footage and documentary filmmaking motives to unveil both seriousness and humor. hans is the quintessential anti-hero ("hey, it's a living."); the trolls are not sensationalized CGI villains but, rather, gargantuan henson-esque beasts, lumbering through forests and under bridges at night. and each troll story from norse mythology receives a gentle shout-out. for the people of norway, the film is fraught with political and social commentary. for the audiences at sundance and, likely, america at large, troll hunter elicits laughter and gasps, with a well-crafted action-centric storyline, and splendid visions of norway (hey, it sure beats disney's norway ride.). maybe troll is the new vampire.

title: the woods
director/screenwriter: matthew lessner
category: new frontier
rating: 3 out 5 stars



the premise is simple: what happens when the youth of today--with thumbs engaged in text messages and mouths full of processed foods--decide to leave society behind, to see what lessons they can learn from the stillness of the forest. it begins with that question, only the execution reveals the director's real motive: a playful if not exploitative and satirical look at the shortcomings of our technology-obsessed generation.

the film begins with a group of young adults hipsters (i'll just call a spade a spade.), clad in their raddest 90s dayglo accessories settling into the woods. they colonize, toting into the landscape only the "essentials": a washer and dryer, a cabinet brimming with hawaiian punch and vitamin waters and an assortment of boxed cereals, and every technology device under the sun (from an apple TV mounted onto a nearby pine tree, to a copy machine). everyone has a cell phone and a laptop. they sing karaoke and play wii. they talk about creating a logo and a credo, about their facebook fans. the leader, daniel, organizes a meeting to speak to the group about cohesion, when suddenly his powerpoint presentation malfunctions. sending a member out into what we imagine is the neighboring big city, he returns disoriented and strange, claiming there is nothing left. which is where the film should have gotten interesting, but instead, falls flat.

imaginative and colorful, director and screenwriter matthew lessner does a strong job with the character studies of an apathetic generation, offsetting their strange beings with an even stranger juxtaposed world of relics from our modern culture against a lush, wild landscape. of course it's shot in oregon (the landscape gives itself away), and the spirit of the forest children couldn't incapsulate any city more than portland (except, maybe brooklyn): complacent and distracted, creative and playful. but the woods, as is, is a rough draft, a character sketch of a world to be explored and exploited. the beauty of sundance screenings is seeing films in their original composition: for films with promise but full of flaws, it gives one the sense of hope.

week two of the festival: wherein i catch up with my film viewings (averaging two screenings a day) and "real life" felt just around the corner. it is also when i tend to Crash And Burn, missing people or portland or normalcy or a world at regular altitude. but, as always, i pony through it. and, as always, it is worth it.

i caught two films on monday, including the above (codependent lesbian space alien seeks same). tuesday i made it into one screening, and scored a ticket to the shorts awards party, which was a favorite event of mine at the 2010 festival (bowling! free food! free drinks!), but fell a little flat in comparison this year. wednesday: three screenings, thursday: two.

wednesday was volunteer appreciation day, heralded by even more free food than usual and some tiny schwag, along with a party at the music cafe that i bailed on. the filmmakers at each of the Q&A sessions i saw that day gave a shout out to the 1,650 unpaid volunteers that run the festival. my roommate h. was personally thanked by robert redford, who walked around headquarters shaking hands and expressing gratitude; in three years, i still have not caught even a glimpse of bob (though i do sometimes prepare packages of schwag for him and his family). legend says he lives in this huge house on a hill overlooking park city, but that rumor was dispelled this year.

friday night the roomies and i got into the ticketed event at the late night lodge, which is effectively just the music cafe "after hours" and is a pretty decent dance party. the DJ was actually from portland (i had chatted him up at the opening night party). that was a crazyfun night, ending in my first and only true sundance "after party" experience of 2011 (at some condo within walking distance of main street). we walked home arm in arm on icy roads, each singing our own songs.

the last official day of the festival was saturday, and with it, the awards ceremony and party. i didn't attend either (though attending the awards ceremony itself wasn't in the cards for a worker bee like myself, anyway), opting to spend the evening in two decent-but-average screenings. on the day following the awards announcement, each venue is screening solely award-winning films, which gives festival-goers a nice opportunity to see The Good Stuff; on that day, i saw to.get.her (which i walked out on early, partially for time and partially disinterest) and circumstance. i flew home on monday.

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the roommate situation never had even a flutter of discomfort or tediousness, and each of us found ourselves "missing" the other ones when home alone. i cooked the most meals, sharing my weird vegan dishes with h. and all but spoon-feeding chrissigrl nibblins of foodstuff she hadn't ever tried before, tip-toeing carefully around the weird textures she avoided. but the three of us pre-gamed together, post-gamed together, walked to work together, caught screenings together. it felt a lot like college. and, like college, we even sometimes chatted on the internet just a room away:



on our last evening in utah, h. and i braved the snow and below-freezing temperatures to dip a toe into the hot tub and heated pool at our condo. the larger pool wasn't heated enough, and the small spa was "closed for repair," which didn't stop us much. the juxtaposition of snow gently falling on and around us, of hot water and cold concrete, of being almost home but still being in park city, of friends you only see once a year but pick up again with like no time has even passed.

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see you later, utah.