As our Sundance Film Festival coverage draws to a close, our critics reflect on the films that left the best impressions, from a touching documentary about the original Superman to the family of Sasquatch who become surprisingly relatable.
Hit Man
Just as I was afraid actor Glen Powell was on the verge of getting lost doing lightweight, unchallenging fare like Top Gun: Maverick and the current Anyone But You, he rediscovers his roots by re-teaming with Richard Linklater (the two worked together on Everybody Wants Some!!), both in front of the camera and as a co-writer (with the director), for Hit Man, the mostly true story of Gary Johnson. Johnson was a solid citizen and professor who had a secret life helping the police with surveillance operations and wire recordings. But when one of the officers who typically does the actual undercover work is suspended for several months, Gary is tapped to take on the job of pretending to be a hit man and capturing unsuspecting citizens trying to hire him to kill someone. Gary jumps into the gig headfirst, becoming a master of disguise and voices, while also deducing on the fly the kind of hit man his potential clients need him to be. His arrest percentages are among the best on the force, and he gets so caught up in the game that he accidentally talks a particularly beautiful mark (Adria Arjona) out of hiring him so she won’t get arrested, eventually meeting up with her later and starting an unadvisable relationship.
Hit Man works off the strength of its twisted, smart, funny screenplay (based on an article in Texas Monthly by Skip Hollandsworth), but Powell rises to the occasion, delivering a powerhouse, fully physical performance that you have to see to believe. Backing him up are a trio of great supporting players—Austin Amelio, Retta, and Sanjay Rao—all of whom have different agendas when it comes to Gary. But within the physical comedy and great acting are subtle themes about identity and getting lost in a version of ourselves that is more interesting than the real you. There’s a scene between Powell and Arjona, in which they know they're being recorded by police but have to have their intense conversation as if they don’t know, that is so awe-inspiring, the audience I saw the film with burst out in applause at the end of it—an occurrence I’ve heard happened at every festival screening it has had. This is easily one of the best films I saw at Sundance and one of the most enjoyable of the year so far. The film begins streaming on Netflix June 7. —Steve Prokopy
Kneecap
Billed as the first rap duo to perform in their native Irish language (or Gaelic), Kneecap is a real-life trio who've found success across their homeland of Northern Ireland, the European continent and beyond. Writer and director Rich Peppiatt takes a novel approach to telling the group's story in a narrative (also titled Kneecap) that's hyper-real, in that band members Liam Óg Ó hAnnaidh, Naoise Ó Cairealláin, and JJ Ó Dochartaigh all play themselves in this story of how two hoodlums and their teacher got together to create one of the most daring and electrifying musical acts of the region. The three men are such natural performers that, although I knew this fact going into the film, I forgot about it almost immediately.
Kneecap is set in the fraught neighborhoods of contemporary Belfast, Northern Ireland, where independence and radicalization are both still very much top of mind, as is a core group of activists' goal to keep the Irish language alive and thriving. Liam and Naoise are students in JJ's music class, and both have plenty of their own struggles, from a girlfriend who's not part of the cause but gets turned on by Liam's political nature to constantly getting called up by both the cops and a particularly intense group of radicals who each have an extra-focused lens on these two "troublemakers." What begins as a relatively run-of-the-mill coming-of-age story quickly morphs into one of the most raucous and fun music movies in recent memory. JJ encourages Liam and Naoise to channel their frustrations into their music, bringing his expertise to the group as its masked DJ (for a bit, no one knows it's this unassuming teacher backing the guys up), and soon their sets at an uncle's pub become raves filled with local teens seeking emotional and musical release.
Kneecap is one of those wonderful discoveries that delivers far and beyond expectations, from a charismatic cast to a vibrant setting (keep an eye out for the protest murals and street art), with a cheeky sense of humor throughout and ultimately a desire to cheer these guys on (and rock out with them). —Lisa Trifone
Presence
I really hope Steven Soderbergh is enjoying his “retirement” as much as I am. Between television series and an ever-increasing number of smaller-scale indie film releases, the sex, lies, and videotape filmmaker keeps surprising us by turning his attention to new genres and new types of filmmaking (if you told me he made his latest work, Presence, on his iPhone, I’d believe you and be all the more impressed). Presence is about a family of four that moves into a new house that just happens to be haunted, but by who? And why? For the entire film, the camera (helmed by Soderbergh, using the alias Peter Andrews) floats through the spacious home following members of the family (Lucy Liu as the mother, Chris Sullivan as the father, Callina Liang as the daughter, and Eddy Maday as the son) as they go about their fairly routine days. But it’s clear not all is right in their world, as we look for clues as to who this ghost is and who its main focus is in this family. It becomes fairly clear that Liang is the one it seeks out the most, and it occasionally does ghostly things to assist her or simply let her know that something is looking out for her. Of course, she gets freaked out most of the time, but without getting into specifics, she also becomes aware of its protective nature and has a few guesses as to who this mystery visitor might be.
Did I mention that the entire movie is shown from the POV of the ghost, who sometimes gets right in people’s faces without them knowing? Sometimes this visual device is genuinely unnerving, and while the film never attempts to scare us in any way, that doesn’t mean it isn’t exceedingly effective at drawing us into this weird experience. The family brings in a medium to try to figure out what is in their midst, and you should listen to her carefully, because she gets most of her details right, even if the family doesn’t get it or believe her, especially in her discussion of how ghosts see the world and experience the flow of time. Working from a script by David Koepp, Presence can get fairly tense, and as much as the ghost story is fascinating, Soderbergh seems to revel in unraveling whatever is holding this family together as the interpersonal grows to mean as much as the otherworldly. — Steve Prokopy
Sasquatch Sunset
There’s a part of me that wants to implore you to see this film knowing nothing about it as you go into it, but those days of moviegoing are long behind us. It’s as if the spirit and love of discovery is long gone, though I still remember a day when it was valued. And David and Nathan Zellner’s (Kumiko, the Treasure Hunter; Damsel) utterly original Sasquatch Sunset filled me with the feeling I’d get walking into a movie based solely on my admiration of some aspect of the cast or director (in this case, both) and figuring out what it was about as it unfolds. This film centers on a family of Sasquatch, played by the likes of Jesse Eisenberg, Riley Keough, and even a youngster (Christophe Zajac-Denek), all of whom are under so much makeup and fur you’d never know it was them. Not a word of the English language (or any other recognizable language) is spoken in the film, but we have a pretty clear sense of what is being communicated at any given moment.
The first half of the film (which takes place over the course of a year) is simply about establishing the routines and behaviors of this small tribe, all of whom display both primitive and vaguely modern attitudes about the world around them. It isn’t even clear until fairly deep into the story when this all takes place—is it tens of thousands of years ago or is it something more recent? But in the second half of the film, drama is introduced. One Sasquatch is attacked by a mountain lion, another is imperiled in a shallow stream in a fluke accident, and the sole female is later discovered to be with child. Suddenly, these real-life family issues take hold of these creatures, and they must find a way to cope or else perish. The inherent dangers of the wilderness and Mother Nature begin to take hold, and we are pulled in by the Zellners to a world that seems both utterly familiar and other worldly.
The film can get a bit gross at time (poo flinging is a regular part of this family’s existence), but Sasquatch Sunset isn’t meant to be funny (although it absolutely has a sense of humor). And while the weirdness of it all may be what grips you initially, it’s the unforgettable struggles of this family and the brave performances that make it easy to feel invested in the unexpected places this journey goes. For me, truly a highlight of this year’s Sundance. — Steve Prokopy
Super/Man: The Christopher Reeve Story
In one of the weepiest Sundances in recent memory, few films quite hit audiences in the tear ducts quite as hard as directors Ian Bonhôte and Peter Ettedgui’s (McQueen) documentary about the meteoric rise, tragic accident, and inspirational return to the spotlight of actor Christopher Reeve. Using a treasure trove of great archival footage, new interviews with family and friends, and never-before-seen home movies from the Reeve family, the film spotlights two periods in the actor’s life: his being cast as Superman in 1978’s film of the same name, and his becoming paralyzed from the neck down after a 1995 horse-riding accident. But there’s a third narrative that emerges toward the end of the film involving his children after Reeve’s death and the unexpected death of his wife Dana only a year and a half later. And it’s this added bit of reflection and story that truly separates this film's themes from other standard-issue filmed biographies.
I also love the way that Super/Man: The Christopher Reeve Story puts a spotlight on the relationship between Reeve and his Juilliard roommate Robin Williams, who never stopped supporting his best friend through career ups and downs, and certainly not after his accident. The film does not portray Reeve as a flawless person, partner or father, but it does show how Dana set him on the path to becoming a better one during their time together. Reeve never had a genuine hit movie after the Superman films (and even those turned against him after a while), but he did make great ones outside of that franchise, and we’re reminded of those throughout the doc. The film also doesn’t shy away from what life was like for Reeve as a quadriplegic, dependent on a ventilator to breathe and other people to take care of him. For a man who prided himself in being in peak physical condition, this was a massive struggle.
Super/Man is a well-rounded portrait of someone who was not ashamed of what he’d created in playing Superman, but wanted to be known for more, and he did just that in becoming an advocate for the disabled and one of the earliest advocates for stem-cell research. This is a true journey of someone who left a large legacy on and off the screen. — Steve Prokopy
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