What a time it is to be a pop star. When the arena tours have done a year of sales, you can share the experience with fans who couldn’t score a ticket via the magic of the multiplex. Taylor did it with Eras, Beyonce did it with Renaissance, immortalizing their mega-shows and collecting some extra cash. Between concert films and jukebox biopics, movies that feature familiar music have become one of the surer things in a shaky industry.  Now, curiously enough, it’s Billie Eilish’s turn and she’s doing so by sharing co-directing credit with none other than James Cameron and in 3D, no less. The experiment and its result is mildly perplexing. 

The most glaring oddity of Billie Eilish: Hit Me Hard and Soft might be the involvement of mega-moviemaker James Cameron, briefly on shore leave from Pandora and the decades-consuming stint directing the Avatar series and bringing his fancy 3D cameras out to the stadium. Making a concert movie in 3D is honestly a decent use for the format’s limited dividends, so getting one of the best in the business to do a stint as your personal videographer is a huge flex for Billie. The results are interesting at best. Donning 3D glasses gives you a sense of the scale of the show, with its theater in the round setup, sensory overload light and flame show, and the degree to which a single performer is responsible for captivating tens of thousands of people all by herself. It’s quite impressive and the shots of the singer racing around the stage, commanding attention from outcroppings, and jogging along the edge of the crowd to countless outstretched hands are incredibly cool. 

Less cool, though, is Cameron (and his co-director’s) apparent interest in verisimilitude in bringing the full arena concert tour into theaters.  Maybe it’s a meta-commentary on the degree to which fans center themselves over performance, but the number of shots of sophisticated camerawork being obstructed by a wall of uplifted iPhones making their own recordings becomes quickly tiresome. In another life I had a sideline in concert photography, so maybe I’m a bit immune to the scale of these events and more than a little allergic to watching a performance through other people’s tiny screens. Even worse, though, is the catastrophic decision to put the crowd noise at the same level as the onstage performance. The roar of the crowd is one thing, thousands of people screaming along off-key is another. It might be authentic, but it’s one of those things where you have to be there to even tolerate it. If you’re not, it’s incredibly grating and emphasizes how much you missed by watching the movie instead of the show. Aside from one song where Billie implores the crowd to stay silent while she builds vocals from live loops, the din of the arena noise overpowers the performance, calling into question why you’re even sitting in a theater watching a concert film at all.

There’s something to be said for including the fans and I will say that Cameron is an outstanding crowdspotter. Throughout the performance, he catches plenty of great shots of individual fans becoming overwhelmed with emotion. It’s the reason that people go to these shows, so I don’t begrudge the inclusion of how much the music means to the thousands of young women (and a handful of young men) who spend hours waiting outside a show to be close to a musician who changed their lives. Including them in the film is an important gesture, though it often feels very surface-level. 

Perhaps less surprising, but still a smidge disappointing is how much of the film is purely dedicated to re-creating a concert. Unlike R.J. Cutler’s insightful and immersive Billie Eilish: The World’s A Little Blurry, insights into the subject’s life are scant. In that film we got a candid look at real life for a talented musician on a meteoric rise. It was a rare look at what it’s like to be a pop star; this movie is what it’s like to be at one of their shows with almost no personal insights. A handful of cutaways to discussions between Cameron and Eilish as they work together to conceive the look and feel of the film, establishing their joint authorship of the project. Over the course of a very short interview, Cameron tosses softball questions and Eilish gives pretty canned answers to how it feels to be her and what it takes to endure the the physical toll of executing an exhausting tour. 

The sequencing is also haphazard, cutting from the show itself to seemingly random moments from the day or two prior (“show -4h”). The best cutaway goes from the opening number to the moments before, tracking Billie Eilish from backstage, into a rolling box that sneaks her into a gleaming cube, and hovering above the audience. Why it isn’t the opening shot is beyond me. These tour mechanics are the most fascinating part of the film with some of the most dynamic and surprising camerawork, yet they have a way of halting the momentum and reminding you how standard much of the musical sequences are. 

Complaints about the structure aside, the show itself is very good. If you love Billie Eilish, you’ll hear almost all the hits (albeit through the din of crowd noise and 3D gimmicks like hands waving in front of your face or people blocking your view on the way to buy a T-shirt). But unlike some of the other mega-tours captured on video, Eilish’s sets aren’t especially cinematic. She proudly holds the spotlight on her own without backup dancers or other musicians (they’re playing in the rock equivalent of an orchestra pit rather than on stage). As a performer it’s a feat that emphasizes how much people in the crowd are bringing their own experiences to the arena and reflecting it back on an unlikely icon. Performing the whole set in her own style of baggy athletic gear, Eilish positively upends stereotypes for women in pop music, taking cues from rap and hip-hop in her crowd work, and setting an example for fans who don’t necessarily fit the mold either. The scale of the filmmaking succeeds in emphasizing how singular a presence she is; however, that comes with a fairly repetitive visual experience. I saw it with fans at a promo screening and there were only a few moments where anyone stirred in their seats along with the music. Maybe it’ll be a must-see for devotees wanting to re-live the tour, but might be less than compelling for onlookers curious to see what they missed. 

Billie Eilish — Hit Me Hard and Soft: The Tour (Live in 3D) arrives in theaters on May 8
Image courtesy of Paramount Pictures

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Last week, we gave you some quick picks in the wake of the press launch. Now, with some more time with the program and access to preview screenings, we have a few more suggestions for how to spend the opening days of the festival.

First up, Opening Night. SIFF kicks off the festivities at the Paramount with I Love Boosters on Thursday May 7th. The latest from Boots Riley (who will be in attendance) features Keke Palmer, Naomi Ackie, Taylour Paige as a trio of radical shoplifters in Oakland taking on the excesses of the fashion industry (as represented by a mogul played by Demi Moore). After the film, make your way over to Cannonball Arts for an afterparty featuring gallery exhibits, a signature photo activation, food, drinks, and a live set from DJ Eliogold. Note, this is SIFF’s only official party this year — the closing soiree at the MOHAI is now a historical artifact — so plan to start the festival off big. (Tickets: $75 for the whole event; $45 for the film alone with discounts for SIFF members)

SOME OF THE MOVIES WE’RE MOST EXCITED ABOUT

Chris

April X (2025 |  USA |  93 min. |  Michel K. Parandi)
Having been on standby since I first saw this movie in the program guide, I’ve been intrigued and will likely queue up for Saturday afternoon’s screening in lieu of my mid-afternoon nap. The SIFF program guide says, “A black-market body-parts hustler desperately searches for his missing twin sister who can digitally record her dreams. As he digs deeper, a sinister conspiracy threatens to consume them both in this sci-fi noir thriller.” They had me at “black-market body-parts hustler.”

• FRIDAY, MAY 8 – PACCAR IMAX – 8:30 PM
• SATURDAY, MAY 9 – SIFF Cinema Uptown – 3:30 PM

Franz (2025 |  Czech Republic |  127 min. |  Agnieszka Holland)
Reviews have been mixed for Agnieszka Holland’s new film about the life and legacy of Franz Kafka, but I remain intrigued. Holland is one of the giants of Czech cinema and this movie appears to be part biopic part mockumentary (though probably less funny). It cannot possibly go further up my alley. (May 8, 10)

• FRIDAY, MAY 8 – SIFF Cinema Downtown – 3:30 PM
• SUNDAY, MAY 10 – SIFF Cinema Downtown – 5:00 PM

Josh

Again, Again (2026 | USA | 99 minutes | Mia Moore, Heather Ballish)

It’s not often that SIFF sees world premieres, let alone ones produced by a Wachowski sister. This Abderdeen-set fantasy/nightmare finds a woman caught in a time loop with her runaway bride girlfriend (think Groundhog Day or Palm Springs, but considerably less funny). When she wakes up the next morning to find the loop finally broken, it’s both freeing and unsettling. With strong performances, a clear-eyed vision of human foibles, and a continually surprising story structure, it’s both an effective metaphor for the Trans experience as well as a moving story of navigating identity.

Rating: 3.5 out of 5.

• MONDAY, MAY 11 – SIFF Cinema Uptown – 6:30 PM
• TUESDAY, MAY 12 – SIFF Cinema Uptown – 3:00 PM
• FRIDAY, MAY 15 – SIFF Cinema Uptown – 8:00 PM
• Director Mia Moore, Producer Cliff Noonan, and Executive Producer Ian Schrank scheduled to attend.

Hen (2025 | Germany | 96 minutes | György Pálfi)

A runaway hen escapes a food processing factory only to bear witness to the fickle cruelty of the real world that intersects with a seaside Greek taverna? Sounds like a poultry-based successor to EO, but that harrowing tale of an expressive donkey on the run remains one of my favorite cinematic experiments. Of course, I’m going to put a chicken’s eye view in a different part of the world (taking on the theme of motherhood?) with quirky camerawork and a folksy soundtrack at the top of my watchlist.

• MONDAY, MAY 11 – SIFF Cinema Downtown – 6:00 PM
• TUESDAY, MAY 12 – SIFF Cinema Uptown – 4:00 PM

Morgen

Hot Water (2026 | USA | 97 minutes | Ramzi Bashour)

While mother and son are of Lebanese descent, this could be about any strained family relationship just trying to navigate teen angst and single motherhood. A roadtrip between the two offers a glimpse into who they have become and where they want to go.

• FRIDAY, MAY 8 – SIFF Cinema Uptown – 9:00 PM
• SATURDAY, MAY 9 – SIFF Cinema Uptown – 11:45 AM

Deadline (2026 | Taiwan | 118 minutes | Kiwi Chow)

While it hails from Taiwan rather than Japan, Deadline is reminiscent of another film I recommended last year called Happyend. Neither one of them will have an happy ending, but it speaks to the pressures put on children to succeed at any cost and hopefully in Deadline, just as in Happyend, they’ll find a way to fight back for control over their own lives.

• FRIDAY, MAY 8 – SIFF Cinema Uptown – 4:00 PM
• SUNDAY, MAY 10 – SIFF Cinema Downtown – 8:15 PM
• Producer Peiyi Lin scheduled to attend.

The Seoul Guardians (2026 | South Korea | 71 minutes | Jong-woo Kim, Shin-Wan Kim, Chul-Young Cho)

I was only supposed to choose two, but just don’t tell my editor I snuck this one in too. South Korea has become a pretty important place to me over the last handful of years and this was an event I “lived through” on this side of the world. Only seeing snippets on US news sites and online sources, a lot more came directly from Koreans that experienced it themselves. If you think you know what happened on 12/3/25, declaration of Martial Law and quick removal of President Yoon Suk Yeol, it was a lot closer to crisis than we were ever told. This first hand account gets to the heart of the story. One note of warning, this one is mainly first-person footage and unstable camerawork so if you’re susceptible to vertigo beware (but it’s worth it).

• SATURDAY, MAY 9 – SIFF Cinema Uptown – 6:00 PM
• SUNDAY, MAY 10 – SIFF Cinema Uptown – 12:00 PM
• Director Chul-Young Cho scheduled to attend.

Tony

Queen Kelly (1929 | USA | 105 minutes | Erich von Stroheim)

Director Erich von Stroheim’s flawed silent masterpiece about a commoner (Gloria Swanson) entering a tumultuous romance with a prince gets a spiffy new transfer, with SIFF 2026 rolling it out as the first of the fest’s two archival screenings. The restoration reportedly recreates the movie’s original (and lost) finale from previously-unreleased material, and I’m totally here for it.

• SUNDAY, MAY 10 – SIFF Cinema Downtown – 2:15 PM

Boorman and The Devil (2025 | USA | 105 minutes | David Kittredge)

Director John Boorman’s career has encompassed everything from stone masterpieces (Deliverance, Hope and Glory) to ambitious misfires (The Emerald Forest) to pure batshit lunacy (Zardoz). This new doc by director David Kittredge covers the making of Exorcist II: The Heretic, easily Boorman’s most maligned and (Kittredge asserts) misunderstood film. Word around the cineaste campfire runs rapturous about this exhaustive chronicle of the movie’s painful development, poisonous reception, and late-period reappraisal.

• SUNDAY, MAY 10 – SIFF Cinema Downtown – 8:30 PM
• WEDNESDAY, MAY 13 – SIFF Cinema Downtown – 12:30 PM
• Director David Kittredge and Co-Producer Craig Smith scheduled to attend.

GUEST LIST

SIFF has outdone themselves bringing guests to the festival this year, see below for a preliminary look at who’ll be in town in support of their films.Director Chul-Young Cho scheduled to attend.

The 2026 Seattle International Film Festival runs from May 7-17. Keep up with our reactions on social media (@thesunbreak) and follow our ongoing coverage via our SIFF 2026 posts

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Twenty years after Andy Sachs (Anne Hathaway) accepted the job “a million girls would kill for” as Miranda Priestly’s (Meryl Streep) assistant, she finds herself unexpectedly back at Runway magazine working under Priestly once more. The Devil Wears Prada 2 is primarily a nostalgic homage to the drama of everyone’s favorite not-so-fictitious fashion magazine. It doesn’t provide anything particularly innovative, but it’s still an enjoyable return to the world of the original film. With the same cast, writers (Lauren Weisberger and Aline Brosh McKenna), and director David Frankel, it’s clear we’re getting a near-replica of the original.

While walking the (cerulean) blue carpet at Runway’s pseudo-Met Gala (the theme of which, fittingly, is “Spring Florals”), Miranda hears the news that Runway is involved in a scandal. The same night, Andy, now working as a successful reporter, a job that takes her all around the world, is publicly fired as her magazine downsizes. Luckily, both Andy and Miranda have ways of helping each other, and so begins the first of many unlikely partnerships.

Still Miranda’s right-hand man at Runway is Nigel (Stanley Tucci), nearly ecstatic to be working with Andy once again. Miranda also has a new duo of assistants: her first assistant, Amari (Simone Ashley), and her second assistant, Charlie (Caleb Hearon), whom Andy takes an immediate liking to. And returning as Emily is Emily Blunt, now working at Dior, Runway’s biggest sponsor.

Just as the original film leans heavily on Vogue’s real-life influences, the sequel is not immune to the blatantly obvious connection to the real-world version of Runway. We are introduced to new characters, including a tech billionaire interested in AI and space travel (Justin Theroux as Benji), looking to buy the magazine for his new girlfriend, and his elusive ex-wife, Sasha (Lucy Liu). While it’s hard to miss the obvious inspiration the writers drew from current events, the storyline works well and fits seamlessly into the world of Runway.

The best part of the film is that Miranda is just as much the main character as Andy is. The film digs deeper into who Miranda is and the sacrifices she’s made for her career. While the original film touched on Miranda’s humanity as Andy learned of her divorce, much of this humanity was still tainted by the “devil” persona the film attributes to her. In The Devil Wears Prada 2, the human side of Miranda is far more relatable as we see her navigate career stress, friendships, and motherhood.

If the film has a message, it’s perhaps one of feminism, that Andy, Miranda, and Emily don’t need to rely on successful men to achieve their dreams; they have the skills to achieve them on their own. But the filmmakers don’t lean into that messaging enough, leaving it feeling half-baked and forced rather than expertly conveyed. For a film centering on three high-ranking women in the world of fashion, it’s difficult to see how this messaging was fumbled. But unfortunately, we’re given on-the-nose lines about the power of women rather than shown the ways they are able to fend for themselves.

The Devil Wears Prada 2 is clearly catering to fans of the original, never trying too hard to be a modern film, instead masquerading as an early 2000s rom-com with slightly higher production value. While being just about as groundbreaking as florals for spring, the film still accomplishes what it set out to do: bring new and old fans alike back into the world of Runway for a nostalgic, enjoyable two hours.

The Devil Wears Prada 2 arrives in theaters on May 1st
Image by by Macall Polay courtesy of 20th Century Studios

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David Lowery might become best known for having directed Robert Redford’s last starring performance (the incredibly charming true crime drama The Old Man and the Gun) and making perhaps the only good live-action adaptation of a beloved animated film (the near-perfect Pete’s Dragon). His exceptionally successful filmography has also included grounded doomed love stories (Ain’t Them Bodies Saints) as well as fantastical investigations of the grave prices required to counterbalance the cosmic weight of fleeting success (The Green Knight) and spare explorations of inextricable bonds that stretch across time (A Ghost Story). His new film, Mother Mary, shares with those films an openness to the surreal as well as the ability to give main character energy to bolts of fabric. Bolstered by two entrancing performances from Anne Hathaway and Michaela Coel, it joins his other films as deeply fascinating and surprisingly revelatory examinations of humanity.

The film opens on two women, physically and professionally separated yet still deeply entwined. Although the lens is on global pop star Mother Mary (Anne Hathaway), it’s the seething and embittered voice of Sam Anselm (Michaela Coel) that we first hear. Like a cancerous lesion or rising bile in her stomach, she can sense the inevitable approach of her onetime friend and creative partner. When Mother Mary has a headache at a costume fitting for her latest tour that’s going badly, Sam Anselem pops an aspirin in her mouth thousands of miles away. 

Soon enough, Mary’s private jet brings her – de-glammed, fried blonde highlights, and rain-drenched baggy athleisure — to Sam’s countryside atelier. Barging in unannounced, she’s an unwelcome interruption for a fashion designer on a deadline. Although they coolly offer her tea and snacks, neither Sam nor her assistant (Hunter Schafer) are amused. She’s written the best song of all time, but the dress that she’s meant to wear to re-launch her music career (in a matter of days) after a calamitous break from the spotlight is “all wrong” and she doesn’t trust anyone other than Sam to help her. We know how Sam feels about Mary, but even if the appeal of minting the image for a comeback isn’t enticing enough, there’s something irresistible about the possibility of picking at the long festering wound from a newfound position of power.  

With that, the duo retreat to a spacious barn across the property. It’s full of mannequins, all sorts of fabric, desks for sketching, a platform for taking measurements, and plenty of space to be filled with accusations and apologies. Lowery uses the cavernous space, be it lit by the fading gray daylight or more candles than one would think appropriate for a room full of fabric, to maximum theatrical effect as a memory palace. 

As Mary and Sam interrogate their personal histories, Coel and Hathaway perform an entrancing two-hander. It’s impossible to take your eyes off them as they peel through layers of pain and anger. We learn that Sam was responsible for crafting the imagery for Mother Mary early in her career, the two women’s careers intertwined on a rocketship of fame, until an unceremonious break left her reeling. With her striking angular features filmed in close detail, Coel is the initial antagonist, her character having built up walls of protection after flipping a switch that isn’t easily moved by her onetime collaborator’s non-specific apologies. It’s a rare shift in the power dynamic to find herself now in a position of control, but she relishes the opportunity even if it hurts to see her onetime friend again. With remarkable vulnerability, Hathaway captures Mary at a point of desperation, the mask of fame having slipped, leaving her softened sadness exposed. Whether their partnership extended beyond creative collaboration to anything romantic or sexual is left unspecified, but a broken friendship and betrayed partnership can cut just as, if not more deeply than any relationship break-up. 

Both performances are exceptional, both in their physicality and emotional intensity. At one point, Hathaway performs a stunning and taxing modern choreography sequence in complete silence (Sam refuses to hear Mary’s music, including the new song which is aptly titled “Spooky Action”), scored only to the rhythm of her body moving across the barn’s wooden floors and the sounds of her breath as she exerts herself to a dance she’s committed perfectly to memory. It’s astonishing and alien, a feat of physicality that introduces the possibilities of the supernatural transformative potency of art.

Despite taking place in one location, it’s hardly a chamber piece. In flashbacks and cutaways, the production blooms into a grander scale as as we witness iterations of Mother Mary’s stadium-scale career at pivotal moments. It’s a perfect contrast that makes use of Hathaway’s natural “theater kid” perfectionism, which we see as she evokes hints of the pop icons of recent generations. The stage name “Mother Mary” clearly evokes Lady Gaga, but iterations of her look – marked by an evolving halo as a signature costume element – sound, and stage presence is far more piously witchy than Gaga’s oeuvre and whose fans are more plainly adoring than throngs of Little Monsters. Lowery mentions taking inspiration from all the greats (Gaga, Madonna, Taylor, Beyoncé), but his conception of the character, with costume designs by Bina Daigeler (evoking McQueen sensibilities) and original songs from Charli xcx (who explored similar territory in her own The Moment), producer Jack Antonoff, and multi-hyphenate FKA Twigs (who herself appears to pivotal effect in this film), results in something original enough to avoid any direct impersonations.

For quite some time, Coel’s Sam is driving the show, setting the pace and terms of their rapprochement. As she begins sketching out ideas for this dress, she pokes and slices at Mary and their past. It’s a fascinating bit of timing that Mother Mary and The Christophers were released within weeks of each other. They’re fundamentally different, yet successful performances, both of which find Coel in the position of scrutinizing the history of another artist. Here, she conveys a self-protective dominance and unpredictability in the face of this reunion, having long since sublimated her pain into a renewed power.  

It’s an attitude and insistence that eventually propels the two women headlong into the realm of the supernatural. As the night goes on, cinematographer Andrew Droz Palermo films both of them sparring in shadow with candlelight (or spotlights) reflecting eerily in their dark eyes, like dark, almost alien orbs. Stories unfold in surreal and sometimes detailed, slipping both from and into the studio like a kind of dream theater of past transgressions. Importantly, having previously made a film that used Casey Affleck covered with a gigantic bedsheet to remarkable effect for its entire running time, Lowery is no stranger to the emotional possibilities of fabric, but here (working again with A Ghost Story’s Annell Brodeur, along with artist Daniel Wurtzel and dancer Taylor Sieve) he has created something ravishingly evocative with a diaphanous and metamorphic undulating yards of silky crimson fabric. In giving physical shape to the ghostly force that has kept them entangled even in their many years apart, he builds to a gory and cathartic climax that commands rapt attention as the film dances at the edge of horror and fantasy. The alchemy of Hathaway and Coel’s raw performances and Lowery’s comfortably inhibit the tenuous territory between reality and fantasy, combining to conjure a mesmerizing, multi-faceted portrait of a pop star whose world tour is more worth the price of admission.

Mother Mary arrives in local theaters on April 23
Images via A24

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Bob Odenkirk is firmly in his “Liam Neeson phase”: a middle-aged man reluctantly forced to kick a lot of ass in order to protect what really matters.

In Normal, he plays Ulysses, a rent-a-sheriff brought in after the previous sheriff dies in the sleepy town of, yes, Normal, MN. He’s meant to keep the seat warm until the heir apparent takes over, but for a town that prides itself on Midwestern blandness, something feels off. How does a place like this bankroll eight-figure upgrades to City Hall? Is the mayor’s (Henry Winkler) offer to extend his stay really no-strings-attached? And maybe it’s best not to look too closely at how his predecessor died. Of course, it all leads back to a stash of loot and some extremely unmerciful Japanese gangsters.

When a bank robbery from some desperate Normies Ulysses has taken a liking to (along with their dog, who is definitely a good boy), things start to go sideways. What follows is essentially one extended action sequence that quickly escalates from chucklesome to absurd to outright ridiculous. The cartoonish violence is so over-the-top it occasionally earns a laugh. I just wish it did so more often.

Prolific genre director Ben Wheatley helms this movie from a script by Odenkirk and Derek Kolstad (who wrote the previous Nobody films that also starred Odenkirk, as well as the John Wick films). I think they were going for something akin to Fargo meets The Naked Gun. The problem is that it doesn’t warrant a comparison to either. The Naked Gun movies throw so many jokes and bits and puns and gags at you it’s overwhelming and Fargo, the Minnesota-set black comedy/neo-noir, is the Coen Brothers’ very best film. Fight me.

Normal not without its merits: Bob Odenkirk is one of the easiest actors to enjoy watching and there are a few really funny moments, but this the type of movie that makes me cynical. Everyone involved seems to be in it for a paycheck and a laugh, but that laugh feels like it comes at the expense of the paying audience. I liked Nobody well enough but it is ground zero in the Bob Odenkirk-as-action-star arc. One of his co-stars, the mayor perhaps?, should tell him to stop before he’s asked to put on water skis.

Normal is now playing in theaters nationwide.

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The SunBreak got a preview this week at a reception for press and members, but we are still soaking up the trailers, digesting the full lineup of 66 narrative features, 34 documentaries, 3 archival presentations, 2 secret films and 98 shorts from 71 countries/regions. Although we got a head start on the list of films – which among the features include 2 world premieres, 9 North American premieres, and 4 US premieres. With a majority (62%) of the entries coming from first or second-time filmmakers, it’s a program rich for discovery. Just under half are directed by women/non-binary filmmakers and many of the films come from BIPOC (49%) or LGBTQIA+ (19%) communities. Further, most also don’t yet have US distribution (67%); so attending SIFF represents a chance to be among the first viewers to find some hidden gems!

First up, Opening Night. SIFF kicks off the festivities at the Paramount with I Love Boosters on Thursday May 7th. The latest from Boots Riley (who will be in attendance) features Keke Palmer, Naomi Ackie, Taylour Paige as a trio of radical shoplifters in Oakland taking on the excesses of the fashion industry (as represented by a mogul played by Demi Moore). After the film, make your way over to Cannonball Arts for an afterparty featuring gallery exhibits, a signature photo activation, food, drinks, and a live set from DJ Eliogold. Note, this is SIFF’s only official party this year — the closing soiree at the MOHAI is now a historical artifact — so plan to start the festival off big. (Tickets: $75 for the whole event; $45 for the film alone with discounts for SIFF members)

While we’re digging through the schedule and plotting our own agendas, we thought we’d start by each highlighting a film (or two) from the program that we’re most excited to see or recommend.

ROUNDTABLE: QUICK PICKS!

Chris: I’m a sucker for documentaries about people gaming systems of chance. I devoured the Big Bucks, the documentary about an ice cream man who figured out the patterns of “Pres Your Luck” and I wish McMillion$ (the HBO doc about McDonald’s Monopoly scam) was longer than six episodes. When I saw a doc in the SIFF guide called Beat the Lotto, it stuck out like a sore thumb for me. It’s about an Irish Area Man who finds a vulnerability in the Irish lottery. Yes, please. (May 13 & 17)

Morgen: Having an invested interest in the country and its people, I actually experienced this (from the perspective of a US citizen) in real time so I’m interested to see how much media here glossed over the story (it looks like about 90% was either ignored or purposely left out because media here think South Korea isn’t of interest. (May 9 & 10)

Josh: Perusing the schedule, SIFF picked up quite a few films that I saw and liked during this year’s Sundance Film Festival including unconventional Marianne Faithful documentary Broken English, Iranian portrait of contemporary artists and friendship The Friend’s House is Here, moving documentary of family and environmental activism To Hold a Mountain, action-styled documentary about a high wire rescue in Pakistan Hanging by a Wire, and visually stunning mediation on the intersection between nature and humans Nuisance Bear. (They also picked up Gregg Araki’s dull empty provocation I Want Your Sex; see it if you must for a solid Cooper Hoffman performance). Franz, Agnieszka Holland’s surreal Kafka biopic also made it over from TIFF. However, the one that I’ve thought the most about was an AI doc with local connections (including Microsoft’s early epic failures in chatbotting). Divided into eight chapters, Valerie Veatch’s crisply assembled documentary exposes the most pernicious lies at the core of the Artificial Intelligence movement. Both sobering and infuriating, her film also exposes the racist, sexist, prejudicial history of the models underlying this pernicious technology that threatens our society, the environment, and the global financial system. (May 10 & 11)

Chris: I will never not be fascinated with the story of Phoenix Jones, the Seattleite who dressed as a superhero and patrolled the mean streets of Belltown and Pioneer Square in the early morning hours. He had a precipitous fall in 2020 by being arrested for drugs, supposedly one of the issues that motivated him. Plus, I’ll watch anything that features Jon Ronson, who wrote the definitive (e)book about Jones. (May 16 & 17)

Morgen: I’m not one for horror/thrillers regularly, but psychological, thought-provoking and witty stories grab me no matter what genre. I feel the same about Jordan Peele movies, even though I typically don’t go after a scary thrill in the theater. Mārama is about anti-colonialism and one of several indigenous films in the festival this year. It looks intense and visually delicious.

Josh: Ferndale-born Sky Hopinka (Ho-Chunk Nation/Pechanga Band of Luiseño Indians) brings audiences along for an immersive documentary experience centered around a single day at a local Powwow. The director, poet, and photographer was the recipient of the Seattle Film Critics Society’s John Hartl Pacific Northwest Spotlight Award (previous recipients include Lily Gladstone and Kyle Maclachlan). This year’s award will be presented during SIFF on May 17th. In addition to the SIFF screenings of his feature-length documentary, SFCS is also hosting “An Evening With Sky Hopinka” satellite event at Northwest Film Forum featuring a curated collection of his short films followed by a discussion and reception. (May 16 & 17)

OTHER SPECIAL EVENTS

Aside from Opening Night, SIFF has designated a few other screenings as spotlights and events. On Tuesday May 12th Cross Faded Cinema will employ the talents of SIFF stalwart DJ NicFit to spin a new soundtrack for Wes Craven’s franchise-ancohoring horror series A Nightmare on Elm Street. Freddie Kreuger inspired his share of sleepless nights; seeing him wreaking terrors upon the dreams of 80s teens on SIFF Downtown’s giant screen alongside trippy turntable beats is sure to bring its share of scares to generations new and old. On a still-musical, but slightly more wholesome note, John Carney’s latest entry in a career of moviemaking about musicians bonding over music Power Ballad features Paul Rudd as a wedding singer and Joe Jonas as a fading boy band star (range!). It plays Opening Weekend and is sure to get you up in the feels (if you’re susceptible to Carney’s frequencies). Finally, the festival closes on Sunday May 17th at SIFF Downtown with The Invite. Starring and directed by Olivia Wilde (who will be in attendance), the film co-stars Seth Rogen, Penelope Cruz, and Edward Norton as couples at an awkward and incisive dinner party. Among the buzziest films at Sundance, A24 won the bidding war to distribute it. See it ahead of your own neighbors for $40 on the last night of the festival.

Finally, Secret Fest, SIFF’s most exclusive film club, is back. Buy a pass for $44 ($39 members) and get access to two Sunday morning movies that you’ll never be allowed to reveal that you saw. Allegedly/hypothetically/unconfirmed rumblings suggest that these can be anything from films promised to other festivals, rare archival presentations, or underground films rarely seen. The pass and an oath of secrecy get you in. 

Hyped yet? Let’s start memorizing this year’s trailer so that we can all quote along with it by Closing Night!

DEEP DIVES 

• Find your films: The festival is organized into multiple intersecting systems, suitable for satisfying various worldviews or problem-solving styles. For the analytic among us, Film Finder lets you search the program with simple queries or dizzying arrays of categorical complexity (not yet ChatGPT-enabled, though). Start with the fairly straightforward – Country/Region, Director, Genre – to narrow your choices.Film Finder shows you exactly which movies can be watched from home during the festival’s streaming encore week (note that a few are limited to Washington only).
• The Awards Race: If you’d rather match your tastes against expert juries, consider following one of the competitions and see if your favorite aligns with the pros. This year’s juried races include the Official Competition, Documentary, New American Cinema, Ibero-American, and New Directors competitions as well as Short Film competitions divided between documentary, narrative, and animated juries.
• Themes: Finally, SIFF has selected films as part of an an array of programs, some of which partially overlap with each other and/or the competitions. They’re loosely grouped by geography/identity (African Pictures, Asian Crossroads, Ibero-American Cinema, World Cinema, New American Cinema, cINeDIGENOUS, Northwest Connections), themes (Culinary Cinema, Face the Music), appropriateness for younger audiences (Films4Families for kids of all ages), degree of boundary-pushing (Alternate Cinema experimentations all the way to WTF), as well as format (Documentary Films, Archival Films and Short Fest). Yes, some of these programs have competitions within them. Others are festivals within festivals. SIFF contains multitudes!
• Trust the experts: If you’re still stuck, browse the expert advice of the Programmer Picks. This year, 20 tireless SIFF programmers collectively watched something like 6000 films to build the program. They then each identified top bets among the festival’s riches so that you could benefit from their expertise. You could either choose one programmer and follow their lead or go with the consensus!

PLANNING

• Plan ahead. Get to know the SIFF website. Browse the sortable searchable Film Finder to drill down on your heart’s desires.
• Guestwatch: Getting to hear from the filmmakers is one of the biggest perks of an in-person film festival! Keep an eye out for festival guests if you like the opportunity to hear a filmmaker’s take on their work or to have them answer your awkward question following the screening (kidding, but also not). Be sure to check ahead to see if guests will be at the screening for a Q&A, for timing and scheduling purposes, if not for celeb-watching.
• Technology is your friend! The SIFF app is no more, but you can keep an eye on the various SIFF Bluesky, Facebook, Instagram pages for updates, so you’ll have the heads up before a screening sells out.
• This year’s festival has is in-person only. You may have gotten used to being able to catch up with the festival from home, but this year you’ll have to join the queues and see them in theaters.
• The festival also posts daily updates to their online calendar, coding screenings as “limited availability” or “standby” to alert you to whether tickets are selling fast. 

BUYING

• Individual tickets for most films cost $22 ($19 for members) and can be purchased online.
• Passes: Perhaps you’re ready to join the the ranks of the passholders? A film pass runs $500 ($350 SIFF members) and gets you into all regularly-priced festival screenings as well as to a series of preview screenings (typically three per weekday from April 27-May 7). A premiere pass gets you all of that plus you can cut ahead of regular passholders in line and get invited to the Opening Night Film and Party, Closing Night Film, and the Golden Space Needle Awards (on May 17th). At this point, that’ll cost you $1600 (or more likely $1200 if you’re a SIFF member).
• Packages: Even if you don’t want to spring for that level of commitment, you can still get a six pack of tickets for $110 ($92), which is close to a BFGO deal. You can use up to two tickets per screening, so feel free to split with a buddy. 
• Take a chance: If a film is sold out, all hope isn’t lost, but getting into a film via the standby line is a complete crapshoot — don’t count on it for a popular film. But if a miracle does occur, those tickets are full price and “cash preferred.”

VENUES

• Venues: With Pacific Place, the Egyptian (RIP), and Shoreline out of the mix, most films playing in or near SIFF’s Lower Queen Anne playground: SIFF Cinema Uptown (3 screens), the SIFF Film Center, and PACCAR IMAX at Pacific Science Center. Films also play a few blocks away at SIFF-e-rama (a.k.a. SIFF Downtown).

PRACTICALITIES

• If you’re particular about where you sit, there’s no such thing as arriving too early. In normal times, it was fair to expect every screening to have a long line and a full house. Still, as long as you have a ticket, you’ll have a seat. Ticketholders are usually let into the theater about 30 minutes in advance of showtimes, but SIFFgoers are a bunch who love to queue. Passholders get in first, but there are a limited number of seats set aside for them; so even with a pass, you should show up in time to secure a spot, particularly for movies with big buzz.
• Regarding those long lines: When you roll up, don’t be surprised to see a line stretching from the theater doors. Don’t panic, as long as you have a ticket and arrive ahead of time you should be fine. Instead, be prepared with an umbrella, sunglasses, sunscreen, a light jacket, and some reading material to pass the time. Layers and preparedness are core tenets of PNW culture.
• Consider subtitles. If your film has them and you’re not fluent, find a seat with a clear view of the bottom of the screen. Aisle left or right is generally a good bet, particularly if you’re worried about someone with great posture or above average skull circumference directly in front of you.

Finally, despite all of this strategic advice, it really never hurts (too much) to try your luck with whatever happens to be playing on whatever night you happen to be free. Not every screening has an interminable line, sometimes that scary-looking line is just hard-core SIFFers with time on their hands and/or an ingrained sense of promptness. Many many times you may walk right into a half-empty theater and end up seeing your favorite movie of the year. It’s the chance to experience seeing something you enjoy on some level, if only just a window to a different world/experience than what you’re used to. We look forward to seeing you at the movies!

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Julian Sklar (Ian McKellen) has followed the familiar trajectory from enfant terrible to full-blown crank. Once a renowned artist, he now spends most of his time not painting and recording Cameo-style videos—often for mothers urging their children to pursue art (in this economy?). Dressing is optional. There was also a regrettable stint as a judge on a reality show that makes Simon Cowell look like the Easter Bunny.

The subject that causes the most fascination around Sklar, though, is “the Christophers,” a series of seven unfinished paintings of a former male lover ages ago. (Full disclosure: I was born a Christopher.) What if we learn, upon Julian’s death, that the Christophers aren’t unfinished at all? That would be quite lucrative for his awful children Sally and Barnaby (Jessica Gunning and James Corden). For them, Sklar’s less-than-zero interest in finishing the paintings before he dies is not so much a slammed door as an inconvenience.

The younger Sklars reach out an acquaintance of Sally’s for help: Lori Butler (Michaela Coel). She’s also an art restorer and an artist in her own right. The plan is to get her a job as their father’s assistant and that would give her the access to the paintings to finish the remaining six (the explanation for why six and not seven caused one of the biggest laughs I’ve had in a theater, at least since SPAMALOT.

With some reluctance, Lori accepts the job. She has a few axes to grind with Senior Sklar, and forging his lost masterpieces becomes a quiet form of revenge. She’s written some lukewarm blog posts about how he’s lost his way: the usual complaints about an old white man failing to reaffirm his progressive bona fides. That proves to be ill-advised.

Pro tip: assume elderly people don’t know how to google at your own peril.

Directing a script from Ed Solomon, Steven Soderbergh’s newest has a lot going for it. The interplay between Coel and McKellen is often fun and smart. It also has the trappings of a Soderbergh film: a brisk pace, sharp dialogue, and you’re never really sure about whose loyalties lie where. The Christophers isn’t as sleek as his previous Black Bag, but few are. The ending loses a little steam but the generational tension between Coel and McKellen and the the unholy combination of greed and stupidity from Sally and Barnaby generates plenty of laughs. Moreover, there’s something almost too on-the-nose about casting James Corden as an insufferable failson.

The film may stumble at the finish, but it understands something essential: in the art world, as in families, the true masterpiece is knowing exactly how much you can get away with.

Previous coverage.

_____________________________________________

The Christophers opens at SIFF Cinema Uptown on Thursday, April 16.

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Imagine being stuck in an endless loop through a subway station hallway. If you aren’t meticulous enough to notice any little detail that alters from the “original”, you start all over again. It seems simple enough, right? I mean you just memorize all the minute details about every aspect in the hallway, but make a mistake and you start over… but the stakes start to rise, your secret innermost fears are brought to light and you could even start losing your mind. Not so simple.

For folks that don’t run in these kinds of circles (me being one of them), the new psychological thriller by Japanese filmmaker Genki Kawamura, Exit 8, is based on a video game of the same name released not two years before the creation of the film. As the plot became clear within the first few minutes, I briefly wondered “how can they stretch this into an hour and half story?”; but then you could say the same thing about Groundhog Day and look how that turned out. Unlike the aforementioned Bill Murray joint, Exit 8 is not comedic in the slightest, but just as thought-provoking. On the contrary it is quite anxiety-inducing just like it’s video game predecessor; lets just say I’m glad I don’t play video games like this.

If you’re past the age of 15, then you’ve probably had to make choices that you’d rather run away from and this film preys on insecurities, pushing viewers to confront aspects of life that we’d all rather leave behind. The Lost Man lead was relatable, but also brought to mind our lowest points emotionally and mentally. To make matters worse, Kawamura added fear-induced asthma to our protagonist’s burdens giving me a little unexpected taste of hyperventilation. Combining the physical and psychological had me taking a deep breaths just to reassure that I wasn’t the one in the middle of the mess . There are brief overtly horror-y moments, but by and large this is a character and story driven film and I was whole-heartedly in it. I tend to fall deep into any plot, even the most ridiculous (I may hide tears more often than not from my fellow critics), but these types of existentially probing storylines swallow me whole and I’m happily consumed.

A fun note to end on, to commemorate Exit 8’s incarnation as a feature film, Kawamura — working in tandem with Kotake Create — will release a new “anomaly,” or extension, of the popular video games. So if you’re into existential dread for fun, then have at it. I’m sure it’ll have you short of breath, or at least facing your inner demons, in no time.

Exit 8 is in theaters now

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For an entire generation, 1978’s Faces of Death became the most grotesquely alluring of cinematic forbidden fruit when it hit home video in the early 1980s. The movie stirred together gruesome news footage, not-always-convincing pseudo-documentary sequences, and accidentally-captured real-life grotesquerie into one decidedly unsettling gumbo. And while it play-acted as a sincere examination of mortality, it also subjected viewers to the kind of sensationalistic shocks that could only be classified as exploitation of the most wonderfully gratuitous variety. 

The movie’s lo-fi, patchwork execution (and a much less media-savvy environment) lent a weird sense of creepy verité ambiguity to even its most flagrantly phony moments. Plainly put, dumbstruck viewers felt like they were seeing something they were never, ever meant to see. And they couldn’t look away. 

Faces of Death was far from the first movie to smack audiences upside their heads with a combination of real-life imagery and con-man theatrics—an entire subgenre known as the Mondo Movie had been already been blazing this dubious trail for almost twenty years. But Faces’ wide circulation on VHS, its garishly creepy video box art, and some lightning-fast, old-school word of mouth combined to make it a massive hit. 

At least four direct-to-video sequels, scores of equally stomach-churning knockoffs, and a whole lot of outrage followed. Multiple countries banned it outright. Great Britain even threw it into the crosshairs of that country’s Thatcher-era Video Nasties witch hunt.

Then the ensuing decades saw an increase in viewer sophistication (regarding special effects, at least), the onslaught of reality television, and the hellscape that is the internet, all of which effectively diluted Faces of Death’s initial blunt-force impact. 

Viewed today and divorced from the mystique that once preceded it, the movie generates an odd combination of revulsion, amusement, and (for the right horror hardcore demographic) nostalgia. It stands as a fascinating relic of a time when the public could still have its collective skull walloped by something unexpected. Vinegar Syndrome, one of the top boutique video labels currently in operation, is even capitalizing on the movie’s cult following with a painstakingly remastered, extras-packed Faces of Death 4K that’s as respectfully crafted as a Criterion Collection reissue of some hallowed arthouse classic. 

It was only a matter of time before Hollywood’s fetish for remakes and reboots of established genre properties extended to even this most unsavory of horror franchises. The end result—a brand-new fictionalized sort-of reboot, also entitled Faces of Death—hits theaters everywhere today. 

Thankfully, this reimagining avoids wallowing in the real-life autopsy, morgue, natural disaster, and animal slaughter footage that partially defined the first. And happily (if you could really ascribe happiness to anything associated with the Faces of Death franchise), this imperfect but surprisingly worthwhile update delivers solid performances, a few genuine surprises, and some world-class white-knuckle scares/shocks.

The new Faces of Death zeroes in on the Been There, Done That, Seen Everything climate currently pervading the 21^st century, opening with a rapid-fire barrage of real-world internet content. Protagonist Margot (Barbie Ferriera), a moderator at a video platform called Kino, plows through a litany of posted videos, flagging them for approval or denial, when two stylized clips of apparent murders cross her workload. Apparently posted by different sources, they share a distinctive aesthetic—mannequins wielding tools of murder, as they snuff out actual human beings in harrowingly realistic fashion. Worse yet, they’re re-enactments of scenes from the original Faces of Death.

Soon, Margot’s defying company policy to ID the sources of the videos, unearthing information on possible victims, using modern technology to confirm the reality of the filmed deaths, and attempting to track down the (possible) killer. Not surprisingly, shit gets real, really fast.

This reboot’s script by director Daniel Goldhaber and Isa Mazzei attempts to address a lot for a low-budget modern horror flick. It levels a righteously angry stink-eye at internet culture and its tendency to numb its consumers to even the most loathsome content. Corporations turning a blind eye to the unconscionable in the service of profit rear their head. Goldhaber and Mazzei also explore the meta nature of the thematic threads directly connecting this new Faces of Death to the original.

How effectively Faces of Death follows up on these oft-heady elements, however, varies wildly. Sometimes its over-over-the-top blows against its chosen targets just land with a thud; other times, that hyperbolic approach nicely amplifies the dark humor (Pop singer Charli XCX mines some darkly farcical gold in her small role as Margot’s dead-eyed, terminally nonplussed coworker). When the movie embraces its inner serial-killer, it betrays a lot of debt to Manhunter and Silence of the Lambs without really adding much beyond its ‘The Internet Sucks’ manifesto; but the copycat killings, done with the kind of realism allotted by 40+ years of special effects advances, serve up a stylish and seriously disturbing call-and-response with the source material.

That jerkiness generates some real frustration at times. But the most cogent trait by which a horror movie should be judged is how effectively it scares and unsettles the viewer. And on that front, Goldhaber hits a home run. He’s invaluably aided in that objective by Ferreira, whose ostensible final girl exhibits the kind of tenacity, pluck, vulnerability, and obsessiveness that renders her the most riveting of audience avatars (mega bonus points for her being a queer, plus-sized woman whose build and sexuality remain NBD throughout the entirety of the movie). 

Even when the script occasionally hobbles her by steering her into doing Dumb Horror Movie Character Things amidst a couple of Dumb Contrived Horror Movie Trope Moments, there’s never an instant when audience support and empathy for her wane. And warts and all, the movie’s last half builds some damn near unbearable tension thanks to Goldhaber’s assured work at the helm.

Ferreira’s also the reason that the escalating sensory overload of the movie’s ending ultimatey lands. Without spoiling anything, her full-throttle energy in the final stretch drives home one of this reimagining’s bluntest but most relevant points: In the end, thanks to the pervasive influence of algorithms and the animal impulses they exploit, anyone diving too deeply into the fetid waters of the web can end up subjecting themselves to a proverbial Faces of Death of their own making.  

Faces of Death opens Friday, April 10 in theaters everywhere. Image Courtesy IFC/Legendary Pictures.

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With something always tantalizingly out of reach, Christian Petzold’s films carry a certain rigor of academic riddles, albeit koans populated by characters nursing their own quiet tragedies. With vibrant interiority, Paula Beer’s melancholic university music student becomes a makeshift bandage for a rural family in the wake of a freak car crash. With a fairy tale quality, it becomes a story of parallel rebirth and healing. The great pleasure is in waiting for the final puzzle piece to fall into place, revealing an unexpectedly richer, fuller whole.

Opening with a dreamlike quality, we first encounter Laura (Paula Beer, Petzold’s current muse) in quiet contemplation of a waterway below an ugly Berlin overpass. Exploring further, she explores the shoreline below where a shadowy stand-up paddler glides past silently, evoking a ferryman traversing the worlds of the living and dead. In her cozy, loose-knit pink duck-emblazoned sweater, she’s a young woman adrift in a fog of her own isolation. Having misplaced her bag, she arrives home to her apartment to a boyfriend annoyed that she’s been out of touch and late for a convertible ride to the countryside for a boating excursion with influential musician friends. Her boyfriend is the sort to pick up an interesting synth, trust his girlfriend to identify the key of a classic Dutch pop song on the car’s stereo, but not sensitive enough to care why she immediately wants to leave rather than spend the day on the lake.

Even here, in approximately the modern day and real world, Petzold’s filmmaking has a surreal yet naturalistic quality. Laura and an older woman standing alone, staring blankly from the curb of a country road, exchange portentous glances as their car speeds by. The encounter will repeat moments before an offscreen car accident causes her boyfriend to exit the film while Laura walks away miraculously unscathed, albeit even further dazed.

That woman, Betty (Barbara Auer, also in her third collaboration with Petzold), is the first to arrive on the scene of the crash. She brings Laura away from the wreckage, back to her house. Of her own volition, Laura requests to stay in the company of this apparent stranger rather than returning to her home or to seek further medical attention. Perhaps more oddly [or merely German civic-mindedness], Betty immediately agrees, setting Laura up with a bed, competently unobtrusive room service, a change of well-fitting clothes, and enrichment activities out of Tom Sawyer like helping to paint her white picket fence. 

From the small disarrays of the country house, calling Laura by the wrong name, and the way that Betty’s estranged husband (Matthias Brandt) and adult son Max (Enno Trebs, both also fellow Petzold three-timers) assume she’s gone off her pills when she invites them to dinner and they find a table set for four, it’s fairly easy to deduce the nature of the unresolved absence in their family’s life. They’re men of few words, mechanics who work from their own shop with a sideline in modifying electronic tracking systems in wealthy clients’ high-end automobiles. More comfortable working with their hands than expressing themselves, their long silences and meaningful eye contact upon seeing Laura speak volumes. It’s a credit to the expressive quality of the entire cast’s acting that so much of the storytelling happens through wordless gestures and silent reactions, but this is especially true for how Paula Beer’s big blue eyes work wonders to connect us to a character whose distresses may be a mystery even to herself. 

As the days of Laura’s respite stretch on, her presence becomes a balm for a fractured marriage. Even as she gets to know Max, sharing beers and listening to music (an impeccable Frankie Valli needle drop) while he repairs a broken bicycle to help her get around, he remains unsettled by her presence. For much of her stay, nothing really happens — meals become less awkward, a dishwasher breaks, the merits of plum cakes are debated — but the oddity of the days stretching on without anyone daring to broach the subject of why she’s there contributes to a sense of quietly mounting unaddressed tension. Amid seemingly aimless summer days soundtracked mostly by breezes and birdsong, Petzold balances coziness with borderline unbearable eeriness.

Neither dream nor nightmare, the spell of must eventually break. As the charade comes crashing down around them all and its absurdity comes into focus, the severance reveals that grief, trauma, and recovery rarely proceed in straight lines. Instead, recalibrations come in fits and starts. Stasis gives way to forward movement in the afterglow of brief surrender to respites of fantasy, be it indulging in echoes from the past or succumbing to an unspecified desire to temporarily disappear from the world. Even upon awaking, shaking off the confusion, the world continues with a new sense of normalcy. You can leave the past behind, but still you can never leave more than you found. 

Miroirs No. 3 continues its theatrical rollout in Seattle this weekend, with screenings at SIFF Uptown.
An earlier version of this review appeared as part of our coverage of the 2025 Toronto International Film Festival, where the film had its North American premiere.

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