Varna’s Mind

This time last year, the out-of-nowhere indie Beasts of the Southern Wild emerged at the Sundance Film Festival, knocked out everyone who saw it, and embarked on a thrilling year-long ride to become a critical fave, indie smash, and multiple Oscar nominee. Of course, when you have a big hit, everyone’s looking for a sequel — and most of the press out of Park City has been eager to buzzkill, assuring us that no, there’s not another Beasts in this year’s bunch. And who knows, maybe they’re right; Beasts was an indie phenomenon, an alignment of style, backstory, and heart that proved irresistible. But the fact that this particular lighting hasn’t struck twice is somehow being taken as proof that this was a lesser festival than last, which (as far as this viewer could see) was simply untrue; in fact, I probably saw more out-and-out great films at this year’s ‘dance. After the jump, a look at the two dozen films I managed to take in over six days in Park City, and how they all stack up.

THE ANTICLIMACTIC OPENER
MAY IN THE SUMMER: For the second year in a row, Sundance’s opening night selection was a bit of a puzzler; maybe they were saving the good stuff for after the jet lag subsided. This culture clash comedy/drama from writer/director/star Cherien Dabis starts off well, mostly because we’re not used to seeing so many multi-dimensional Middle Eastern women onscreen. Unfortunately, it’s a bit of ruse; once the novelty wears off, this is a film of crushing predictability, filled with overdone situations and age-old dialogue, before degenerating into (of all things) a Jordanian riff on It’s Complicated. Bill Pullman, Alia Shawkat, and Hiam Abbass occasionally rise above the material, but this is pretty unexceptional stuff.

THE ONE I WASN’T SMART ENOUGH FOR
UPSTREAM COLOR: Shane Carruth’s puzzle movie is proving one of the more divisive at Sundance; some are all-in on its wildly experimental approach, while others find it baffling and unapproachable. As a fan of his Primer, I wanted to love it, and while it’s admirably ambitious and never less than fascinating to look at, it’s the kind of film where the viewer must grapple with the urge to “figure it out” (and ultimately dismiss that inclination). All of this is a roundabout way of saying that it was too abstract for this viewer, but those who like this kinda thing are really gonna like this one. You know who you are.

THE ONE I WAS TOO SMART FOR
LOVELACE: This is not a case of patting myself on the back; if you’ve seen more than a couple of dozen films, you’re too smart for Lovelace too. The great documentarians Rob Epstein and Jeffrey Friedman’s 2011 Howl was a promising crossover to nonfiction narrative filmmaking, but they’re hamstrung by a bone-headed, paint-by-numbers screenplay that leaves out giant chunks of pertinent information (though the film itself runs barely 90 minutes, and smells of editing-room shenanigans). Too bad, since star Amanda Seyfried bares her body and soul in a performance far better than this Lifetime-movie claptrap deserves.