Film
Festival Reviews
A Report from Sundance, 2002 |
| by Clinton McClung |
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| The onset of Olympics mania did nothing to dim the
excitement surrounding Sundance, NoDance, DigiDance, SlamDance, the
Lost Film Festival, and the million of other indie film extravaganzas
lurking over tiny Park City for ten wintery January days. I only spent
the first five days in the mountains of Utah, and twenty films later
I have returned to Boston confident that The Sundance Film Festival,
and all the activity it invites, indeed lives up to its reputation
as the premiere film festival in the U.S.A. even if I found this year's
selection to be a bit of a disappointment. |
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| It's amazing how many of last year's features have
made it to the top 10s for the end of the year: Memento, In
the Bedroom, The Deep End, Hedwig, Waking Life,
etc. Frankly, 2001 was an incredible year for quality independent
cinema, so perhaps it is unfair to compare it to Sundance 2002. Still,
the number of true surprises this year seems considerably smaller,
despite the studio bidding wars that were heating up before the festival
even began (a sign of desperation, I'm afraid, as the post 9/11 film
world still seems to be reeling a bit). |
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| However, there were still several stand-out films
that I saw and heard about, and I learned a valuable lesson: trust
your instincts. I eschewed a few films that I really regret missing
(Cherish, Devil's Playground , The Dancer Upstairs,
and Personal Velocity, all of which had very positive word
of mouth, and Gus Van Sant's Gerry, which I don't really regret
missing all that much), merely in order to somewhat expand the diversity
of my screenings. |
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| Most of my secondary choices proved to be at
best humdrum. Cest La Vie. Such is the journey of discovering the
unknown. Still, I have no reason to complain, as this was my first
time exploring the quaint ski-town streets, trying to figure out
the intricacies of ticketing, hobnobbing with the stars (celebrities
I actually spoke to or touched: Brad Pitt, Aidan Quinn, Philip Seymour
Hoffman (I told him that his mom totally rocked), John Waters, Thomas
Jay Ryan, Tilda Swinton, Robin Williams, Mike Schank and Mark Borchardt
(they're certainly celebrities to me), John C. Reilly, and trying
desperately to get into any party I could. Sadly, I lacked the necessary
skills to beg for party invitations, so I missed out, but that's
okay as my slate was filled with film after film after film. |
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Love
in the Time of Money
Director: Peter Mattei
Cast: Steve Buscemi, Rosario Dawson, Vera Farmiga, Adrian Grenier,
Carol Kane, Jill Hennessey
Produced at the Sundace lab, this ensemble piece follows a narrative
string of sexual encounters. While the film provides no new insights
on sex - secretly gay husbands, how open relationships never work,
empty one night stands, the hooker who redeems herself - the cast
give excellent performances.
Since Mattei has a history as a playwright and stage director, the
quality of the performances are not surprising, especially Buscemi,
Dawson, and Hennessy. It's a fun-to-watch American Indie, but falls
victim to many of the usual first-time traps: overlong scenes, bland
music, yuppie-style set designs, and a not-as-surprising-at-it-thinks-it-is
ending. Also, the use of digital video proves distracting. I am not
a detractor of DV, but rather than using this more modern medium to
capture the intimacy of the performances, it just seems like a shortcut
to save money on traditional film stock.
This cheapens the artistic impact of the film, and I fear is pointing to a trend
which may lead to more and more indie features with the trademark fuzziness of
DV, when what it really needs is the crisp beauty of film. All that aside, compared
to the frankness of Center of the World or the sexual looniness of this
year's Secretary, Love in the Time of Money doesn't seem to have
much to say. Still, while not memorable, it's worth seeing for the stand-out
ensemble acting. |
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Soft
Shell Man (Un Crabe Dans La Tête)
Director: Andre Turpin
Cast: David La Haye, Isabelle Blais, Emmanuel Bilodeau, Pascale
Desrochers
A tale of childish maleness in the form of Alex, a charming underwater
photographer who can't help but dabble with every woman he meets.
Turpin is a former d.p. (most noted for his work on Maelstrom),
and the film is filled with some stunning cinematography, but
the screenplay lacks structure. The film follows Alex as he interacts
with some intriguing and quirky characters - the gay gallery owner,
the crazed upper class drug addict, and the extremely forward
and honest young film critic whom he falls somewhat in love with.
Unfortunately, none of these characters quite seem to ring true
(the actors all make a valiant effort, but aren't given enough
to work with), and the story meanders aimlessly about a subject,
male pattern insecurity, that is terribly overdone. Still, there
are a few stand-out scenes, like Alex's attempt to teach his best
friend's deaf girlfriend the meaning of silence, and La Haye brings
a strangely honest charm to Alex's hard to control string of lies.
But despite the film's best efforts, eventually the urge to slap
Alex and tell him he's a garden-variety jerk is almost overpowering.
Throughout there are strange symbolic representations of a crab
eating at a brain, which climaxes in a closing that makes little
narrative sense.
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Miss America
Director: Lisa Ades
A by-the-numbers documentary tracing the history of the Miss America
Pageant, covering all the major scandals and triumphs. While the film
contains some amazing and amusing stock footage, and features commentary
from the likes of Margret Cho and Gloria Steinem, it merely celebrates
the history and avoids the hard questions - most notably how does
the pageant negatively affect the idea of femininity and what relevance
does it have in modern society. Indeed, the tale peters out after
the Vanessa Williams controversy, and fails to explore the stepford-looking
plastic contestants of today. Noting that the credits generously thank
the Pageant itself, this comes as no surprise. An amusing trifle that
would fit right in with an evening of Behind the Music episodes, but
in fact has already made it to PBS' American Experience. |
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The
Cockettes
Directors: Bill Weber and David Weissman
This thoroughly charming and visually exciting documentary follows
the hippie drag troupe who started a legendary anarchist gender-ambiguous
theatre movement in late 60's San Francisco. The Cockettes, a more
ribald and daring kick-line than their New York namesakes, paved the
way and inspired everything from The Rocky Horror Picture Show,
to Divine (indeed, John Waters appears to recount her first meeting
with the group), to pretty much every trashy, punky, filthy, and lovingly
blasé drag farce since (including, methinks, Hedwig herself).
Fabulous, fun, funny, and dare I say educational (hey, I didn't know
their outlandish history, and I love this sort of thing) and inspiring.
Well edited, with tons of archival footage, interviews with original
members, and a touch of tragedy (many original Cockettes died of Aids
in the 80s), The Cockettes is, overall, a joyful bash. A must
see if only for the clips of the Cockettes' film Tricia Nixon's
Wedding. |
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Fubar
Director: Michael Dowse
Cast: Paul Spence, Dave Lawrence, Gordon Skilling
This improv-heavy mockumentary combines the white trash reality of
American Movie with the social satire of Wayne's World
in it's exploration of the life of two Canadian headbangers. Dean
& Terry live in a ramshackle home, spend their days and nights drinking
cheap beer and breaking things, and are basically on the fast track
to loserville. So why is this documentary filmmaker following them
around and filming everything? The (fake) filmmaker becomes as much
a character as the creepy facial hair wearing stars, and everyone
inhabits their roles to deliver incredibly comedic yet realistic performances.
Despite having some very funny moments, and throwing in a bit of tragedy
to keep the story from stagnating, I can't help but feel that I've
seen it all before. When one character discovers he has cancer and
has to go into chemo, the humor doesn't overshadow the horror of disease,
but still, it's hard to figure out the film's intentions. Cultural
humor has become so intrinsically self-referential that it's almost
hard to tell what's supposed to be funny anymore, at what is merely
picking on easy targets. I guess I enjoyed it, but I felt like kind
of a jerk for doing so. |
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The
Good Girl
Director: Miguel Arteta
Cast: Jennifer Aniston, Jake Gyllenhaal, John C. Reilly, Tim Blake
Nelson, Zooey Deschanel, Mike White
The writer and director of Chuck & Buck return with a stunning
ensemble cast, lead by a surprisingly good performance from Aniston.
She plays Justine, a dissatisfied young woman stuck in a dead end
job (working the cosmetics counter at a cheap-o drug store), a marriage
that has lost its passion, and a general feeling of malaise about
her humdrum life. Then she notices her new co-worker Holden, a dark
and broody teenager who keeps to himself and reads Catcher in the
Rye (hmmm, wonder where that name came from?).
Justine becomes enamored with this mysterious boy and soon they fall
into a steamy affair. But, as you would expect from this writer/director
team, there are several surprising events which twist the plot and
the tone in unexpected directions. Aniston does a great job with a
character whose flaws include lying, cheating and scheming, but who
really just wants to be a good girl. Reilly is a standout (again)
as her thick-headed husband, and the rest of the cast bring to life
their somewhat quirky characters without seeming unrealistic. This
is definitely a film to watch out for, less controversial then Chuck
and Buck, but still fiercely original and true. |
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Noon
Blue Apples
Director: Jay Lee
Cast: Lauren Fox, Thomas Jay Ryan, Norbert Leo Butz, Tovah Feldshuh
A conspiracy thriller that goes beyond the usual "who shot JFK" to
build on theories going back to the creation of the pyramids. The
film starts out with characters and dialogue that are, frankly, tough
to swallow and annoying. But with the entrance of Thomas Jay Ryan
(Henry Fool) as the owner of a cult book store the plot and
the pacing tighten considerably. I could listen to Ryan read off my
grocery list, and when he is on screen and presenting the wealth of
conspiracies - from the ridiculous ("Happy Days" is a well-oiled brainwashing
tool) to the surprisingly irrefutable (primitive African tribes able
to identify star systems) - the film is enthralling.
Unfortunately, the plot is a muddled mess, and despite some clever
twists that attempt to capture the same urgency as former Sundance
breakout PI, the film is lacking in a solid direction style.
Again, I think shooting on DV made the film too easy for the filmmaker,
and there are several good moments in the film that could've been
punched up and really affecting if it had more of a voice, trying
less to be hip and more to be truly individual. And the acting, well,
outside of Ryan I was sadly unimpressed. |
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Paradox
Lake
Director: Przemyslaw Shemie Reut
Cast: Matt Wolf, Jessica Fuchs, Phe Caplan, Jason Miller
This intensely original film follows a dissatisfied and clinically
depressed young man who takes a summer job at a camp for autistic
children. As the film unfolds we learn about the internal politics
of such a camp, as well as some of the ins and outs of autism, all
with a verité feel that is helped by the fact that the film
was shot at and features the residents of an actual autism camp. What
keeps this film from lapsing into being another disease-exploitation
feature is a mixture of the experimental camera work (for the first
time in the festival, I was truly impressed by some innovative uses
of DV technology), and a plot where the limitations and uniqueness
of autism itself become an intricate part of the mystery.
Oh yes, this is a mystery, and one that is so subtle that you only
realize you are in the midst of one about halfway through the film,
making for an exhilarating twist as you must think backwards and trace
the clues. The cast is marvelous, and comparisons to the similar communal
filming style and quality of George Washington are not erroneous.
I saw this film at midnite after a very long and tiring festival day,
and even though the pacing was slow, I was wide awake for the whole
thing. Very powerful. |
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Derrida
Director: Kirby Dick and Amy Ziering Kofman
Jacques Derrida is my favorite French philosopher partly because he
champions the idea of deconstruction, of breaking the elements of
our lives down to their simplest truths. In line with his theory,
Derrida remarks at the beginning as to how the very documentary film
that is attempting to chronicle him, cannot in itself capture truth
because the presence of the camera creates a different reality. If
only the filmmakers listened to him and tried to build the film around
this interesting premise. Instead, the directors unwisely chose to
place Kofman's unemotional readings of Derrida's texts (she is a former
student of Derrida's) as voiceover to scenes of him changing shirts
and buttering toast. We learn little about the man, and little about
his ideas (the readings from his books are very academic, and have
no follow-up, so they provide little enlightenment). This doc's high
points are scenes from Derrida's college lectures, which is an unfortunate
example of how intensely boring and tedious the rest of the film is. |
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Run
Ronnie Run
Director: Troy Miller
Cast: David Cross, Bob Odenkirk, Jill Talley, David Koechner
"Mr. Show" is one of the best and most irreverent sketch comedy shows
on TV, the even more rebellious bastard step-son of "The Kids in the
Hall". I figured that this film premiering at Sundance was a good
sign that finally a good comedy show would make that tough to accomplish
leap to the big screen intact. Unfortunately, something was seriously
damaged in the transition, and besides a impossible to stretch out
plot (Ronnie Dobbs is famous for being the man most arrested on the
TV show "Cops"), the film is filled with broad parodies of easy targets
("Survivor", R&B videos) and misogynist gross-out humor. Watching
Jack Black do an ultra-offensive version of a Mary Poppins routine
should be so over-the-top that it's wildly funny, but after a whole
film of similar gags I just felt insulted‚Äagain. Still, the audience
laughed and cheered, but they were doing that before the film even
started, and there seemed to be a sad desperation to will this film
to be funny. |
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Soft
for Digging
Director: JT Petty
Cast: Edmond Mercier, Sarah Ingerson
Both the Sundance Catalogue and Variety praised this interesting student
film to high heaven, and even though the film was engaging and interesting,
it's amateur style was a bit too evident. The story is a clever ghost
tale involving a hermetic old man who witnesses a child's murder not
far from his cabin in the woods. Most unique is that the tale is told
with almost no dialogue, only the atmospheric soundtrack, and the
film looks charmingly like a low-budget feature from the 1970s (an
era when indie horror and suspense films were at their most creative).
While the ending left a bit to be desired (the in-camera effects scenes
weren't quite effective), I'd love to see what this director does
next - even if it's a moderately budgeted remake of this promising
exercise. |
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Love
Liza
Director: Todd Louiso
Cast: Philip Seymour Hoffman, Kathy Bates, Jack Kehler, Stephen Tobolowsky
Finally, a star vehicle for Phillip Seymour Hoffman, and with a very
unique and touching script by none other than his brother. In keeping
with his most memorable career roles so far, Hoffman is simultaneously
hilariously pathetic and disarmingly sweet. He plays Wilson Joel,
a computer programmer who's wife has just committed suicide. Wilson
is having trouble accepting his loss, and when he finds his wife's
suicide note under his pillow, he is unable to open it. Instead he
finds solace in an unlikely source - the toxic fumes of gasoline.
Soon, huffing gas fumes fills the emptiness in his heart, while numbing
his senses and pushing him even further away from being able to confront
his loss. Hoffman is top-notch as usual, and the supporting cast is
excellent, including Bates as his similarly emotionally drained mother-in-law,
and Kehler as a helpful friend trying to get Wilson to come out of
his shell by joining him in his hobby of model airplane flying (Wilson
already has a connection, as model airplane gas proves to be another
potent mind-numbing fume). With a tone that moves from funny to heartbreaking
and back again, often many times in the same scene, and a pace that
is slow and deliberate (some people found the pace of the story a
bit slow, but I enjoyed every minute of it), this is a very big little
film. I loved it. |
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Teknolust
Director: Lynn Hershman Leeson
Cast: Tilda Swinton, Jeremy Davies, James Urbaniak, Karen Black
Swinton is nerdy chemist Rosetta Stone, who clones herself and produces
three sexy clones: Ruby, Olive and Marine. The clones live in their
own secret apartment and find nourishment from man-tea (tea boiled
with‚ ew‚ I can't say), while their scientist creator monitors
their activities via a two-way video screen in her microwave. But
what happens when her clones start infecting men with an undiagnosable
disease? If the plot sounds weird, don't worry, it should be. This
is a screwball comedy - Hal Hartley style, mixing deadpan dialogue
with an almost incomprehensible techno-thriller plot and playing it
for laughs. It makes for an inacessible, or at the very least hard-to-read
film, and I think the notoriously strange Leeson is a bit too in on
her one joke. But just sitting back and watching the cast chew their
way through the dialogue is a sheer joy, not to mention the presence
of four Tilda Swintons. |
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Secretary
Director: Stephen Shainberg
Cast: James Spader, Maggie Gyllenhaal, Lesley Ann Warren, Jeremy Davies
A charming and quirky comedy (and I appologize for throwing those
words around so darn much, but what can I do when the shoes fit so
darn well) about dominant/submissive relationships, and how they can
lead to profound emotional connections. Gyllenhaal completely steals
the film as Lee Holloway, a young woman just released from a mental
institution, where she was hospitalized for her obsession with self-scarification.
At her parents' urging she lands her first job, after a rather unorthodox
interview, in the office of paralegal E. Edward Grey (Spader). There's
a certain unidentifiable bond between the two from the beginning,
and it soon comes to light that all Lee needs is a little spanking
and S&M to replace her more unhealthy urges - and her boss just may
be the man to give it to her. Spader once again walks that fine line
between creepy and charming that he does so well, and even though
his character reminds us of his similar sexual deviant from Sex,
Lies, and Videotape, his performance here is infused with a wonderful
subtle humor (watching him attempt to repress his arousal towards
his new secretary is especially funny). Kinky, funny, and in the end
strangely romantic. |
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Tadpole
Director: Gary Winick
Cast: Sigourney Weaver, Bebe Neuwirth, John Ritter, Aaron Stanford
There certainly was a lot of buzz on this feature, helped of course
by the newsmaking 4 million dollar purchase by Miramax, but this comedy
left me terribly dry and even a little ticked off. Oscar Grubman is
a super-smart 15 year old prep school boy falls in love with an older
woman and attempts to woo her in somewhat naíve but charmingly
inventive ways. Sound familiar?
Sound like Rushmore? Well, yeah, this film is just like Rushmore,
but with two major differences: 1) the older woman is our hero's step-mom,
2) the film has none of the panache and charm of Wes Anderson's far
superior film. Once again, digital film makes the director lazy, and
this screwball comedy is staged with little style or vision. While
there are a few very funny scenes, mostly involving Bebe Neuwirth
who is so full-of-life that she nearly steals the film, in whole the
character development is tedious and heavy handed.
Oscar is half-French, his dad is a Columbia professor, and he can
quote Voltaire, but all these attempt to make him surprisingly intelligent
come off as nothing more than pretentious and spoiled - sort of an
inverse of the Graduate. In truth, this is a more realistic
characterization than Rushmore's of a precocious child prodigy,
but the mere superiority of this little know-it-all made me want to
jump up and punch the screen. More surprisingly is how John Ritter
manages to upstage Sigourney Weaver, who barely seems to realize she's
in a film. In all, Tadpole left a bad taste, like a paté
that everyone says is delicious, but that you can barely choke down. |
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Coastlines
Director: Victor Nunez
Cast: Timothy Olyphant, Josh Brolin, Sarah Wynter, William Forsythe
First, a basic summary: a man gets out of prison and returns to his
hometown where he hooks up with old friends - the local deputy and
his wife, friends since high school - and some dangerous old enemies
- the drug dealers he went to prison to protect. Tragedy, betrayal
and revenge ensue. In the end everyone is still friends and they enjoy
a picnic. While I respect Nunez for focusing his features on the interesting
and, it must be said, white trash region of Southern Florida, his
films seem to just linger along and would be lost were it not for
his luck with finding some incredible leads.
For Ruby in Paradise he introduced Ashley Judd, and with Ulee's
Gold he reminded us that we've been ignoring Peter Fonda's glory.
But this film is basically a cable-style revenge thriller with no
character to lead it, and unfortunately it sinks under the weight
of too much tension and not enough purpose. While lead actress Wynter
gives a valiant performance, she is doomed by the bland macho posturing
of her co-stars. Not that a tense slow-burn male dominated plot can't
be powerful (Affliction comes to mind), but not if it includes
laughably stereotypical villains, cliched bad-boy status symbols,
and, I'll say it again, a happy closing picnic. A major disappointment. |
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Human
Nature
Director: Michel Goundry
Cast: Tim Robbins, Patricia Arquette, Rhys Iffans
Charlie Kaufman, the writer behind the wildly inventive Being John
Malkovich, teams up with another influential music video director,
Michel Goundry, who's visual flair has elevated Bjork's videos to
near-perfect mini-movies (Malkovich director Spike Jones also
stepped up from the music video ranks, and not coincidentally has
also worked with Bjork) to tell a tale that is every bit as original,
eccentric, and savagely funny as you would expect.
Describing the plot of this societal farce is a chore, as a mere description
only outlines the lunacy without profiling the deeper emotions beneath
the film. But here goes anyway: Lila (Arquette) is a woman born with
hair all over her body, and for a while we follow the story of her
life, from side-show freak, to famous naturalist, to meeting the man
she is convinced she loves, nerdy behavioral scientist Nathan (Robbins).
After having her precious hair removed with electrolysis, she marries
her scientist (who has a strange repulsion to anything ape-like),
and one day during a nature hike in the woods they discover a man
who has been raised by apes (the marvelous Ifans).
The scientist takes the ape-man back to his lab to study him, and
subjects him to a program of brutal experiments that will turn him
into a gentleman of society. In short, it's Eliza Doolitle meets Tarzan
by way of Dr. Caligari and Ralph Waldo Emerson. Got that? Of course
there's much more, and the film is ripe with pathos, good humor, dark
humor, musical numbers, and some very very strange wild jungle lust.
I loved the originality and daring of this indie comedy, and am glad
that the delightfully fun quirkiness of Being John Malkovich
is once again about to hit the theatres. |
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Taboo
Director: Max Makowski
Cast: Nick Stahl, Eddie Kaye Thomas, January Jones, Derek Hamilton,
Lori Heuring, Amber Benson
You ever see a movie just because you have nothing to do but waste
a little time? Well, that certainly leads to some clever diversions
in movie theatres (I'm glad to this day that I stumbled into Pootie
Tang just because I was bored), but on occasion you end up with
that feeling that some of your life has been sucked away.
Yup, that's exactly how bad this movie was. So dull, so unoriginal,
so poorly scripted, that I almost walked out about twenty times (the
only reason I stayed was to have a post-film chat with Amber Benson,
who co-stars on "Buffy the Vampire Slayer", my favorite show on television).
Five horrifyingly stereotyped teens get together in a posh mansion,
share their feelings on sexual taboos (most of which aren't taboo,
unless you're backwards enough to still consider homosexuality to
be "wrong"), then die in horribly stupid and ill defined ways.
Meanwhile the bad music is deafeningly loud, the insipid dialogue
numbs the brain, and the bad actors (January Jones is particularly
grating) chew up the scenery in hopes of someday landing a Lancome
ad. How this worse-than-straight-to-video stinker ended up at Sundance
is beyond me. |
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| Clinton McClung coolcorn@aol.com
The Coolidge Corner Theatre 290 Harvard St., Brookline, MA 02446 (617)
734-2501, www.coolidge.org |
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Boston International Festival
of Women's Cinema High
Falls Film Festival Independent
Film Festival of Boston Provincetown
International Film Festival Sidewalk
Film Festival Sundance Film Festival
Toronto International Film
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