15 Must-See Films from the 2023 Sundance Festival

An expressive tone poem and a rural visual tapestry of dreamy richness, Raven Jackson’s unusually assured feature debut grabs you by the heart when you least expect it. In that, All Dirt Roads Taste of Salt is a slow-burn of the most patient kind, tenderly capturing the connective tissues of a Black Mississippi woman’s past and present with care and empathy. There are hints of Julie Dash, Terrence Malick and Barry Jenkins (a producer here) throughout this otherworldly memory piece amplified by precise nature sounds and Jomo Fray’s artfully dewy cinematography. Still, Jackson is a filmmaker with a language uniquely of her own creation. She proves as much with her sensory narrative experiment that opens the floodgates to emotions both physical and ethereal.

In a miraculous feat of documentary filmmaking, Ukrainian filmmaker and journalist Mstyslav Chernov creates an unforgiving time capsule of the invasion of Ukraine, filming the devastation of Mariupol over the three weeks he and his colleagues Evgeniy Maloletka and Vasilisa Stepanenko were stationed in the geographically crucial port city. In the style of various courageous Matthew Heineman films, Chernov risks his life to speak the truth about Russia’s shattering attacks on Ukrainian civilians when everything from residential buildings to maternity wards of hospitals were targeted and even mass graves couldn’t keep up with the death toll. It’s predictably a tough sit, but an unquestionably necessary one too—it’s one thing to have the information; entirely another to see lifeless bodies of all ages that fell victim to unspeakable evil. Watching Chernov’s film is a humanitarian duty.

This year’s Sundance attendees met an unsung hero in a Seoul-based religious figure called Pastor Seungeun Kim, a fearless activist who selflessly facilities individual and family-wide escapes from North Korea. Blending historical data with real-life stories of various households attempting an impossible cloak-and-dagger journey, Madeleine Gavin’s enthralling Beyond Utopia features some of the most astonishing verité-style footage of this year’s Sundance, following a generationally diverse group of human beings as they embark on a life-threatening journey towards a hopeful future. Unforgiving, high-stakes and clear-eyed about the devastatingly brainwashing powers of elongated oppression, Beyond Utopia will be talked about well into the awards season with its extraordinary vision.

A source of joy in many a movie, motherhood is a beast in birth/rebirth, a fiendish and atmospheric riff on classic monster legends like Frankenstein and a welcome addition to a certain horror subgenre propelled by brawny but burdened mamas. Laura Moss stylishly follows one such giving parent in her skin-prickling film, uniting the tragedy-struck woman with a cagey pathologist conducting a super-secret and death-defying experiment on corpses. Moss is refreshingly unsentimental and amoral throughout birth/rebirth, allowing her characters—played by the terrific duo Judy Reyes and Marin Ireland—go to questionable lengths via diabolical means. It’s an exciting disposition, helping the tale rise above its abrupt ending that suggests the story will continue no matter what. Perhaps distributor IFC Films will take that hint and continue the saga. To quote one of the film’s most memorable phrases, that would be “good science.”

One of the biggest sales of this year’s Sundance, Chloe Domont’s terrific Fair Play (scooped up by Netflix for $20 million) is an expertly calibrated urban thriller that kicks off with a sexy bloodbath, and crawls into gender battles both crafty and explosive. It’s tempting to call this stylish post-#MeToo tale where men have fragile egos and women are still expected to apologize for professional success a ‘90s-style erotic thriller. And yet, Domont’s taut and impeccably orchestrated narrative of bad romance, carried superbly by Phoebe Dynevor and Alden Ehrenreich, isn’t exactly that. Instead, it’s something familiarly adjacent, swimming in tricky waters of villainy and victimhood with an unmistakably principled compass. In that regard, Domont is squarely on the side of ambitious if imperfect women often saddled by entitled men. But she isn’t short on distressing insights into the headspace of patriarchy-enabled dudes, either. That’s what makes Fair Play a perfect thing that knows exactly what it’s doing.

Both a shrewd familial drama and a slow-burning road film with the cinematic taste of a crime-thriller, Native American filmmaker Erica Tremblay’s bold and confident debut Fancy Dance immediately cements her as a brand-new Debra Granik or Taylor Sheridan, with an assured voice entirely her own. Led by the always great Lily Gladstone in career-best form and the relative newcomer Isabel Deroy-Olson in a startlingly nuanced performance, Tremblay’s refined film reflects on the hardships and violence that Indigenous communities face, and the reserves of perseverance and cultural pride they hold onto as a form of resistance. Resolute, heart-wrenching and ultimately affectionate, Fancy Dance wisely reaches truths both historical and contemporary through a present-day study of Missing and Murdered Indigenous Women (MMIW) epidemic.

Another big acquisition of Sundance 2023, John Carney’s instant hit Flora and Son (nabbed by Apple for a large sum) embodies all the things that made us fall for the Irish auteur of Once and Sing Street; among them being an insatiable belief in music as a connector and healer. His latest crowd-pleaser follows the bumpy life of the young, single mother Flora (Eve Hewson in a star-making performance) and her challenging son, as their lives change when Flora signs up for online guitar lessons taught by a kind yet failed LA musician (Joseph Gordon-Levitt). With a disarmingly positive temperament, a laugh-out-loud sense of humor and terrific ensemble, Flora and Son is an old-school, old-fashioned and beautiful telling of a long-distance romance, but not without something new to say on kinships built in the digital age. This beautiful film will make your heart sing.

An observant Afghan immigrant working as a writer at a Bay Area fortune cookie factory might sound too whimsically Sundance-y at first glance. But Babak Jalali’s yearning Fremont sidesteps all the cutesy pitfalls one might expect from such a premise, standing tall as an honest, hopeful and tranquil film about alienation and isolation. Played perceptively by the real-life Afghan refugee Anaita Wali Zada, writer- Jalali’s central character is a captivating screen presence throughout this sophisticated fable, shot in a serene black-and-white palette. Ultimately, Fremont is an ode to the universal beauty and restless pull of human connection.

Every frame of two-time Grammy-nominated artist D. Smith’s feature directorial debut Kokomo City —clocking in at 73 searingly economical minutes—feels like an earth-shattering and eye-opening confrontation as the four courageous trans women at its center tell it like they see it and have lived it. From New York and Atlanta, Smith’s wise subjects don’t mince words as they boldly tear through notions like inclusion, safety, gendered public image and Black culture that concern their proud identity. As a Black and trans filmmaker, Smith refreshingly creates the space for these women to be provocative, raw and daringly glamorous in her taboo-breaking work filmed in gleaming black-and-white and edited with a fiery spirit, also by Smith herself.

Bare female figures of all shapes freely unspool as women reminisce on their deepest secrets in Anna Hints’ Smoke Sauna Sisterhood, an unapologetically feminine film that could have been titled, Women Talking. Indeed, this hypnotic, intimate and blisteringly honest fly-on-the-wall observation of a group of women engaging in a traditional smoke sauna ritual in rural Estonia shares a crucial DNA with Sarah Polley’s recent masterwork, empowering the characters it follows by letting them own both their strength and vulnerability. From childhood trauma and toxic relationships to abortion and rape, no topic is off limits to these spiritual sisters as they sweat to cleanse their souls and bodies—filmed gracefully by Hints with a painterly touch of chiaroscuro—while also purifying the essence of their viewers. It’s poetic stuff.

Those who are craving another Nicole Holofcener and Julia Louis-Dreyfus collaboration: rejoice! The intellectual chemistry between the two that made Enough Said such an all-timer also prevails in the ceaselessly astute You Hurt My Feelings, both a walking-and-talking New York City movie, and a domestic dramedy about the insecurities and white lies hidden in the cracks of coupledom. Holofcener is a master on the page when it comes to casually self-deprecating humor critical of certain forms of metropolitan privilege, as she charms the audience via deceptively simple means like putting an introspective mirror in front of them. Here, she is like an inquisitive neighbor who knows more about you than you’re aware; an urban anthropologist with insights turned into cinematic gold.

Telling a delicate tale about missed connections, what ifs and the parts of ourselves we keep buried within, Past Lives might just be the most singularly exquisite film of this year’s Sundance Film Festival, with a melancholic aroma reminiscent of Richard Linklater’s Before movies and James Ivory’s The Remains of the Day. It would be too simplistic, even false to define renowned playwright Celine Song’s gorgeous narrative exploration as the story of a love triangle. There is surely a trace of that amid the film’s three characters, intricately brought to life by Greta Lee, Teo Yoo and John Magaro. But the gracefully paced Past Lives is more an infinitely mature consideration of what we lose or gain when we choose a version of ourselves and what constitutes meant-for-each-other love for our ever-fragmented souls. The ageless “Am I enough?” deliberation at the heart of Past Lives will wreck you as we continue to swoon over Song’s masterpiece through the awards season and beyond.

Just when everyone’s too eager to declare the eternal demise of rom-coms comes along Raine Allen-Miller’s shimmering Rye Lane, a witty London-set genre entry where weepy meet-cutes happen in public restrooms and the vibrant outfits (by gifted costume designer Cynthia Lawrence-John) are as stylish and free-spirited as the movie they dress. Through an immersive, panoramic cinematography, fast-breaking jokes that sizzle and a generous dose of British drollness, Allen-Miller hits the sweet spot embraced by endearing leads David Jonsson and Vivian Oparah as their haplessly desperate romantics grow from past entanglements into something winsome and enviable. You will fall in love with Lawrence-John’s motor-mouth characters, both thrillingly real and classically donned with rom-com vibes. You will also adore her London, culturally specific and full of wonder.

With an immediately lovable boy-next-door façade and impeccable comic timing around teenage anxieties, the time-traveling Marty McFly in a red life preserver was an instant worldwide sweetheart and Michael J. Fox, a certified movie star. But the actor’s days behind the camera were cut short when he got diagnosed with Parkinson’s Disease at the devastatingly young age of 29, a fact he kept a secret for many painful years. In the joyous, celebratory and boundlessly respectful Still, astute documentarian Davis Guggenheim gives Fox the platform to tell his story on his own terms, supporting Fox’s awe, adventure and romance filled narrative with clips from the actor’s various films and renowned TV shows. The movie he ends up with is a winning mix of nostalgia and integrity, one that will make you cheer and feel for the world’s most singular DeLorean driving-activist with respect and appreciation.

Get tissues ready to witness one of the most selfless and patient forms of love that graced our screens. Captured by The Mole Agent documentarian Maite Alberdi over several years, the powerful The Eternal Memory chronicles the lives of Augusto and Paulina, a prominent Chilean couple who navigate the challenges of Alzheimer’s disease in unbreakable unison. The former is a famed cultural commentator who once shouldered preserving the truths about his country’s battles with the dictatorial Pinochet regime. The role of memory conservation is now in the hands of his caretaker Paulina, who affectionately guides her husband through the highs and lows of his everyday as the demands of the disease chips away at their lives. One thing it never tarnishes however is their dignified love, shared and magnified through pockets of joy that Alberdi’s camera witnesses and celebrates with a generous side of empathy and sense of humor.

Honorable Mentions:

Theater Camp
Mutt
A Thousand and One
The Starling Girl
Passages
Magazine Dreams
Earth Mama