I Saw The Film Festival Glow: Chicago Critics Film Festival 2024 (Part 1 of 2)
I Saw The Film Festival Glow: Chicago Critics Film Festival 2024 (Part 1 of 2)
Essays for the newsletter can wait, there are new films to be excited about thanks to one of the best film festivals on the planet, curated by Chicago critics.
Last year, I covered the festival in three parts but this time, I am going to cover the majority of it here in two parts this year. One midway, one after it ends.
It’s raining heavily outside, a few days after one of the more memorable birthdays I’ve had. The coffee tastes great this morning, listening to the rain trickle down outside my window. Lucy is resting peacefully in her cat bed despite the thunder crashing and I’ve taken my first vacation in years since becoming a full-time librarian precisely one year ago. A perfect day for writing, which was my first love besides music and film when I was young.
I managed to put out another lengthy podcast about favorite movies and have watched a variety of incredible films since. The Chicago Critics Film Festival has been going on since 2013 and I’ve been to nearly every single one with the exception of their debut at the Music Box Theatre, still my favorite place to see a movie on the planet. Of course, I never make it to every single day of the week-long festival because life finds a way to remain busy.
I likely miss a couple of great titles that will likely come out eventually. I am so grateful to the programmers for all their hard work as well as Erik Childress and Brian Tallerico for creating such an extraordinary event. Not to mention Collin Souter for his hard work and dedication with the short film programs (of which this year was my favorite event of the entire fest). Each year seems to be better than the next and I’m truly blessed to be a small part of it by helping out with the CCFF website. I also want to commit to covering the Chicago International Film Festival for the next few years as well. October is always a busy month in the best way possible.
I try to do my best to support this festival, not just because of the friends and podcast guests involved, but because I really love the idea of film critics curating their own festival. I want this to continue to succeed and grow. There is something for everybody and nearly every Q&A is memorable. Several of them are available in the archives and feature so many big names from over the years. It’s an honor once again to review several titles that I’ve had the immense pleasure of seeing in 2024.
Here is Part 2 of my film festival coverage (wrap-up/summation):
https://5years.substack.com/p/ccff2024wrap
I Saw The TV Glow (dir. Jane Schoenbrun)
I have to start with the best feature-length film I’ve seen at the festival but it’ll likely become this year’s lengthy entry for this newsletter down the road. It’s kind of interesting to note that next door as this was playing, my other favorite film of 2024 was showing. The People’s Joker was not a part of the Chicago Critics Film Festival but it was playing in the smaller theater. Even the director themselves found it wonderful that it was playing concurrently.
Quoting another review right at the top isn’t usually my style but I loved what Slate’s Sam Adams came up with for a headline: “I Saw the TV Glow Is a Movie About How Fandom Could Save Your Life—or Ruin It.” These days a lot of people write a sentiment like “this movie made me feel seen,” and I think that’s going to happen a lot with I Saw The TV Glow.
During a lovely scene that takes place among two teens sitting on football field bleachers, one of them asks to the other, “so do you like girls? do you like boys?” The other replies, “I don’t know, I think I like TV shows.” This movie made me feel seen in that moment since I’m pretty sure that was my reply only insert in place of TV shows, “film and music.” Which was also echoed by Steve Prokopy during the director’s Q&A at the festival.
I Saw The TV Glow is a hard film to just write a quick review for so I think I’ll be coming back to it on a second viewing. I loved so much about it on just obvious levels like the score, the songs, the acting, the production design - I didn’t encounter one false note throughout. When it ended, I mentioned to my friend Patrick that “well I need to see it again and honestly, when I have a response like that, that’s usually the sign of a great film for me.” It’s true. When a movie ends and I immediately think, it was too hard to process on first viewing. A lot of different feelings, a lot of questions, a lot to parse. So this initial assessment isn’t really a full review. Like most things I write, this is more of a diary entry/essay. Eventually, the real thoughts (after another look) will emerge with a bit more ease.
I’ll end with this: the reason I’m happy to call this the best film of 2024 so far is for the fact that I haven’t seen anything like this before. It did make me think of Donnie Darko, David Lynch, Buffy the Vampire Slayer (for obvious reasons) and my experiences growing up as an awkward teenager in the 90s, desperately hoping to connect with someone with similiar interests. Furthermore, I think it hits home because of the way it examines the road not taken. Perhaps the main character of Owen could’ve gone down a completely different direction had he not run away. I wanted his life to turn out differently because I was so invested in him breaking out, finding his real self.
But that doesn’t always happen in life. This daring work of art explores fandom, for sure. I’m also certain that you don’t need to be a media junkie to find resonance in this story. We all have had moment in life where we made a decision that altered our trajectory and then we question it later. Yet, there’s something that still ties us to a specific time and place in the past where we felt the most authentic: it could be a film, a book, a band, a TV show. That’s the glow that we hold on to long into adulthood. More to come as to why I love this movie so much even if I need to let it linger a bit. When it ended, my first thought was, “this is why I love movies, they saved my life but they’re also an easy way to escape reality, and that in of itself can become addictive.” Jane has made their best work to date with a final act that gave me chills. Like all great works of art, I need to see this again to affirm my overall take but for the adventurous filmgoer, this is truly a must-see experience.
The Last Stop In Yuma County (dir. Francis Galluppi)
After I Saw The TV Glow, I wasn’t sure if I could continue onward. Honestly, I don’t know if I will ever have the brain power for film festival viewing schedules. I always need downtime to process what I’ve just seen. I think I can only handle so much stimuli and overwhelming emotional connection. I’m talking at least a few hours of sitting with the experience. If film festivals were structured to include copious amounts of downtime, I’d be better off. Also this explains why I could never be a writer who just sits down immediately after a film is over to write about it.
However, this is different for a film like The Last Stop In Yuma County. I don’t feel the need to talk about my therapist after sitting through what is one of the better examples of a modern neo-noir that is tense, taut and hilarious. Not to mention, I could watch this with anyone including my mom, and they’d likely get caught up in the chaotic delights. It’s easy to just reduce this type of story to obvious influences which Erik brought up during the introduction. Of course when you watch this movie, you’ll think of Tarantino, The Coen Brothers and John Dahl. Somehow, this doesn’t once feel derivative even with a Roy Orbison track played in its entirety at a key point.
The great Jim Cummings stars as a knife salesman who pops in for gas at an Arizona rest stop. He learns that the pumps are dry and the next station is hundreds of miles away; however, the good news is the fuel truck is on its way. With no other option but to wait, the salesman takes a seat at the diner, where he meets the waitress, Charlotte (Jocelin Donahue). The situation takes a turn for the worse when two fresh-off-a-heist bank robbers, Beau (Richard Brake) and Travis (Nicholas Logan), pull into the rest stop and take everyone hostage while they also wait for fuel. Things only escalate with tension from there. Even if you’ve read the premise or watched the trailer, trust me, there are surprises in store and you can’t help but get involved in what happens.
The Last Stop in Yuma County positions itself as a small story contained in a single location a’la The Hateful Eight, but it takes wild swings in how the narrative unfolds and the character evolution that is darkly funny, but also bleak and disturbing. Honestly, what came to mind for me while watching this was the fact that I thought of how I felt the first time seeing The Wachowski’s Bound in a theater. The whole audience was just transfixed, reacting appropriately and it’s clear we were in the hands of a confident storyteller(s). It proves to be one of those rare films that demands the audience’s full attention. In return, it rewards the viewer with a suspenseful and surprising story that explores a lot about human nature and impulse. Expect Francis Galluppi’s name everywhere after this sensational directorial debut. This is also one of 2024’s best films so far and I’m excited for people to see it.
Sing Sing (dir. Greg Kwedar)
There were and will continue to be a lot of tears shed at this year’s festival. Kicking things off on a high note was the opening night film, Sing Sing, a feature directorial debut from Greg Kwedar that I know we’ll be hearing a lot more about come awards season.
For those who don’t know or haven’t seen a documentary called The Work, it is without a doubt one of my absolute favorite movies of all time. It makes me cry harder than just about anything and it actually changed the way I looked at the complicated institution contained within the prison system. That movie was about healing through group therapy. Sing Sing is about healing through theater and the arts. Gee, do you think I connected to these worlds?
The film opens with the remarkable Colman Domingo performing a Shakesperean soliloquy directly to the camera with force and magnitude. We then see the actors leave to theatre to return to the notorious Sing Sing Penitentiary where we learn they are all part of the Rehabilitation Through the Arts (RTA) program whose mandate is to put on plays as a part of their rehab.
After choosing a prison yard bully (Clarence “Divine Eye” Maclin, playing himself) on a hunch to join the troupe, their director Brent (Oscar nominee Paul Raci) gathers the prisoners to decide what show they will put on next. Deciding not to go the dramatic route once again, they all choose to write a comedy that incorporates time travel, a son looking for his mother, Ancient Egypt, a western, pirates and Freddy Krueger! Let the auditions and fun begin.
If you love theater and the process of “putting on a show,” then you’ll likely be entertained throughout the entire running time here. But there’s an extra layer to the proceedings presented in the fact that a lot of the people we see here are or were inmates that found solace and healing through this program. “Divine Eye” himself is one of the main focuses and it’s truly a stunning, naturalistic performance because he’s actually been a part of this world.
Sing Sing also centers a deeper, important, and timely question: how do we create a more compassionate society especially for those who are incarcerated to avoid recidivism? The fact that recidivism rates are down for those who take part in RTA says volumes and this film portrays precisely why with honesty, humor and grace. I can’t imagine not tearing up during a pivotal hug that takes place late in the film. This is another title that I can’t wait for everyone to see and talk about when it comes out later this year. It’s truly special and deserves all the support and attention possible.
Babes (dir. Pamela Adlon)
That’ll do, babes. That’ll do. In all seriousness, Babes is a very funny movie. Pure and simple. Pamela Adlon knows how to direct comedy better than most. However, as much as I laughed throughout most of the film, I couldn’t help but detect a note of how I’ve seen this type of movie done many times to where it doesn’t stand out from the crowd. That’s not to say it’s nothing special because Ilana Glazer is definitely one of the funniest humans working today.
Babes is cowritten by Glazer and Josh Rabinowitz, while Adlon is in the director’s chair, making her feature directorial debut. She and Glazer are a perfect collab to say the least. They definitely share similar sensibilities. The film stars Glazer as Eden, a yoga instructor who runs her studio from her New York City apartment, aptly named “4th Floor Walk Up Yoga.” Brash and often forthcoming about anything that pops into her brain, Eden is supported by her married best friend and mom, Dawn (Michelle Buteau).
After the most amazing one-night stand of all time (aye, Stephan James), Eden, a breezy single girlie, decides to have a baby and take on motherhood on her own. This gives Dawn, the married but equally breezy mother of two, more responsibilities than she can juggle with her sanity intact. Hasan Minhaj, as Dawn’s husband Marty, is grounded and collected. Playing it straight, he ups the dichotomy of laughter and realness with deadpan delivery and surprising heart later on. Stephan James, while only in the movie for ten minutes is similar. His impact is felt throughout and we know if he hadn’t “ghosted” Eden they may have become soulmates. Both men are rendered to resonant—solid, open, supportive, and fully realized characters, even in secondary and tertiary roles but this is all about the ladies, they shine.
If you want a simple comedy about friendship, motherhood, juggling responsibilities while trying not to lose your cool, this is exactly what you’d expect. It’s in the Obvious Child realm with more of an improvised feel of comedy that is consistently charming, sometimes gross and relatable. If I had a critique, maybe there are one too many potty humor-style jokes that also echo back to films that definitely influenced this one like Bridesmaids. But it’s a minor quibble. I adore Pamela Adlon and Ilana Glazer and sometimes that’s all you need for a satisfying, entertaining night out at the movies - a collaborative, crowd pleasing comedy done right.
Cuckoo (dir. Tilman Singer)
I recently wrote about how there’s something for everyone at this festival (like most film festivals). Well, when there’s a lineup of several titles to see in the span of a week, you’re bound to watch a film you may not enjoy or strongly respond to as well. I always hold out hope for the horror offerings every year especially since the festival has given us everything from In Fabric to Resurrection in the past. Sadly, Cuckoo merely just lives up to its title and really becomes less and less interesting as the film goes on.
That’s not to say it’s a waste of time by any stretch. The cast here makes it worth a look if you’re curious but ultimately, I’m not sure what the motivation was for the evil deeds that take place. Perhaps this plot was too packed to where things get a bit muddled (or I just missed details entirely).
Luis and his family have traveled to the Bavarian Alps to a new resort home, where he and Beth are to help design an addition to the lodge for Mr. König. In tow are Luis and Beth’s good-natured daughter Alma (who is hearing impaired), and his angsty teenage American daughter from a previous wife, Gretchen. Mr. König takes a keen interest in both daughters, though Gretchen was an unexpected guest.
Gretchen immediately feels out of place, but jumps at a chance to take a bell desk job offer from Mr. König. Strange events then unfold. At the bell desk, women are violently vomiting in the lobby for unexplained reasons. When Gretchen rehearses on her bass guitar, Alma arrives secretively by Gretchen to listen. Gretchen finally notices her, causing Alma to unleash a wave of sonic discharges, triggering a series of time loops that ends up sending both girls to the hospital.
Once things are set into motion, I was initially intrigued to see what the payoff would ultimately become. When you have compelling performances courtesy of Dan Stevens and Hunter Schafer at the center, you want to see them surrounded by a story that is worthy of their talent. Like a lot of horror movies, the premise and setup are certainly compelling but it doesn’t really build to something that, well, makes a whole lot of sense.
It’s possible that I missed dialogue that elaborates further on why the time loops occur but I’m pretty certain that I never learned why the mad scientist / resort owner is doing what he does. There are definite jump scares and shocks, along with creepy creature design but Cuckoo almost feels like weird for weird’s sake without any interest in the psychological implications or making it cohesive. By the end, I shrugged it off despite admiring its intent to go batshit crazy. Sadly, I simply felt disconnected and wished it had done something way more interesting than where it wound up.
The Remarkable Life Of Ibelin (dir. Benjamin Ree)
It’s pretty wild that I’m typing out once again, “one of the year’s best films,” but it’s true. This compassionate, insightful documentary is likely to resonate anyone who found solace and personal connection to the gaming community (or any online community) for its portrayal is one of positivity and comfort. There wasn’t a dry eye in the audience by the end of this and for good reason.
25-year Mats Steen died from Duchenne muscular dystrophy (DMD) about a decade ago. DMD is a disease that manifested during childhood and eventually rendered him paralyzed and wheelchair-bound. Seen as a loner by his parents, all they really knew of him was his love of gaming. Mats made the choice of leaving his password with his father Robert, who chose to share news of his son’s passing with his friends via Mats’ blog. What Robert and wife Trude did not expect to see was the multitude of emails about his son and the impact on their lives through World of Warcraft and his eponymous avatar, Ibelin. What follows after this discovery is truly moving and even life-affirming even if the life that Mats lead, wasn’t fully realized and cut too short.
“Guess I’m trying to run away from the one thing I can never escape,” Mats wrote on his blog at a low point in his illness. But he found friendship and even love in an unexpected digital realm. These insights are deeply effective, shaping Mats in our eyes as someone we wish we could’ve called a friend. Through tight, purposeful direction and editing that shares the same sensibilities, Ree carves out a riveting structure that gets to the core of what we all want in life: to matter to others and leave a lasting memory. Add in a touching and gorgeous score and a gut-punch of an ending that only real life can give, and the film comes together as a definitive portrait of humanity at its most genuine and pure of heart.
The message it sends is inspiring to those who question whether gaming or online forums are true forms of “socializing.” For Mats, it was the only way he could connect to the world. Not only did he do that, he left a positive impact on the lives of so many. We not only experience that through this film but we feel it deeply inside. You just never know whose life you will touch and this is more than just a tribute to Mats as a beautiful mind, it showcases that technology doesn’t always lead to something addictive or unhealthy. It can actually save lives even if those lives are unrealized due to disability, shyness or other factors. It is impossible not to be affected by this film in some way especially if you grew up with computers in your home or questioned whether or not if you matter. This is a truly transcendent documentary. Even if I’ve never personally understood the appeal World of Warcraft, I still understand the film’s power and empathized with everyone involved.
Patient (dir. Lori Felker)
I have more words forthcoming about the first short film program curated by Collin Souter for part two of my coverage but I’d be remissed in not first elaborating further on my experience seeing Patient. As the kids like to say, shorts program #1 had some real “bangers” and this is one of them. The latest from filmmaker Lori Felker - someone who I’ve certainly heard a lot about, but this was the first work of hers that I’ve seen. It will not be the last.
Not too long ago, I read an essay from a book called The Empathy Exams by Leslie Jamison. The titular essay is the first piece and I vividly recall the emotions it conjured up for me, since it was similar to what occurs here in one of the best short films I’ve seen in a while. Perhaps I’m a bit biased though and I’ll ramble for a bit as to why.
Before I decided to become a librarian, when I was living in Grand Rapids, Michigan, I was pursuing a Master’s Degree in Social Work, focusing on individual therapy. One of the classes I took was essentially all role-playing which was monitored by another student to provide feedback. The professor would also review the recorded footage too. Basically, I was the therapist and an actor would come in to the room for an initial intake session for me to respond to. A lot of it was about having the right questions to ask and exhibit healthy levels of empathy and compassion.
Let me state for the record that it was an incredibly difficult class for me despite being comfortable with one-on-one interactions the most. In fact, the more people there are, the less you’ll likely see me being engaged or talkative. But this class I walked into thinking, “well this is why I’m going to school and pursuing this career so let’s goooo.” Guess what? Turns out it is not so easy to have the right response to people coming in with stories of abuse, trauma, anxiety, mania and depression. Then the experience of hearing feedback from both the student and the professor about how to improve. Not to mention the knowledge that you were being filmed.
Well despite this not being about social work and therapy entirely, the execution of Patient is quite similar to what I experienced even if this is focused on the medical profession with aspiring doctors. I walked into this not knowing anything about it outside of it potentially having a mental health component. I chose to avoid the synopsis and go in cold. At one point, I started to cringe in recognition of what each medical student was going through. The synopsis simply reads: “Fiction, reality, the private, and the performed overlap on a routine but emotional day at a medical center.”
There are the standardized patients and the medical students that interview them. The first scenario was less akin to my experience since it’s focused on the physical ailments that each actor is expressing to the students in hopes of saying and doing the right thing once they have real patients for their profession. The second scenario that occurs involves scars on their arms. This was exactly what I went through in my own class. I gasped and winced at a beautifully vulnerable moment when one of the students admits that they’re a bit overwhelmed. I know I was too.
I’ve often said that some of my favorite movies reflect my own life to some degree. I vividly recall when I worked at a thrift store and had to throw away a donated teddy bear into a dumpster with a co-worker. Then in the film Tu Dors Nicole that exact same scenario occurred as if the universe wanted me to smile and guffaw in shocked surprise that I was reliving what I went through in real life, only this time, it was on the big screen. Patient, about halfway through, conjured up very similar vibes and feelings. When I was in that class, an actor did enter the room with scars on their arms. Another talked about their experiences being sexually abused as a child. Like I said, this was not easy and may have contributed to my decision to not pursue social work as a career.
Patient is mostly a straightforward portrayal of the interview process that doctors, medical students and patients all have to experience. If you’ve ever visited a doctor (which is quite likely), you’ll relate to what takes place as a patient. But the execution of this experience - the blurring and blending of reality and fiction make this even more of a surprise especially once we experience the arc of these students including the aforementioned one that breaks down a bit. Yet this is not stylized, but very naturalistic, like everyday life. It brings to mind the calm, confident work of Kelly Reichardt mixed with the organic, fly-on-the-wall approach of Frederick Wiseman. Felker’s achievement here is truly something special. It creates this mesmerizing meta-layer between improvisation and observation, along with subtle commentary on what it means to “act” and be real. The people we are can take on many forms in this setting, in this world. The possibilities are striking since it does in turn, comment on the one-on-one interaction as being its own intricate and intimate narrative.
Yes, it helps for me to have experienced this firsthand in the past. Perhaps it upset me to some degree reliving the anxiety I felt but how many times have we reiterated the fact that movies are, in the words of Ebert, empathy machines? Patient is the purest example of that, in short film form that makes a major impact by the end. I can’t wait to discover more of Felker’s work and it was one of the strongest inclusions in the short film program of this festival.
