‘Union’ Review: Ultra Verité Labor Doc Swerves Away From Greatness, Settles Instead for Good [Sundance]

Investigative documentaries are some of the most interesting films you can watch. There’s no need to create artificial drama, as the subjects are real, and you can’t help but get swept up in the investigation.

In the ‘80s, everyone was scared of Satanists. You know, the whole Satanic Panic era.

Perhaps the best compliment that you can give a narrative feature is to say that it feels like a documentary. Not to say the shot composition is uninspired and the subject dry, but it’s a way to spotlight just how you forget this is actually an actor reading written words, but instead, believe everything happening in front of you is real and true.

Unlike other film festivals around the globe, Sundance has been ahead of the curve when it comes to telling LGBTQIA+ stories whether in narrative or documentary form. That was once again evident in 2024 with the festival selecting films such as “Layla,” “Sebastian,” “My Old Ass,” “Stress Positions” and “Ponyboi.” One NEXT slate selection that attempted to cross the lines of both documentary and drama is Jules Rosskam’s “Desire Lines.” Sadly, like many world premieres in its genre this year, it comes up disappointingly short.

The idea of youth escaping into a large section of woods so as to start life anew is a plot device not at all unexplored prior, seen in films as recently as 2013’s “The Kings of Summer,” while literature will always have “My Side of the Mountain. “In “Penelope, “the concept gets the episodic treatment, but if the premiere is any indicator, this is one project with the potential to captivate in its own unique way.

Twenty years ago, Ondi Timoner’s rock doc “Dig!” the wildly entertaining, sensationalistic portrait of the dysfunctional indie rock bands the Brian Jonestown Massacre and The Dandy Warhols and their strange love/hate relationship and rivalry, was a smash hit, at least critically, winning the Sundance Prize Grandy Jury Prize for Best Documentary and squarely landing the filmmaker on the map.

“Skywalkers: A Love Story” joins “Free Solo” in a film subgenre that can only be described as “F*ck That.” It’s an ultra-specific genre of documentary that showcases feats that are so incredibly dangerous that you not only shake your head in disbelief but actually get your heart beating harder as you hold your breath, imagining that if you don’t make a noise, then maybe these people won’t die right before your eyes.

There’s something magical that happens to most people around the age of 13. For many, that’s when you might have your first real romantic love.

Sundance Film Festival’s lineups can often be dark affairs with edgy shocks, narcotics and strident political talking points. But one of the most soul-satisfying movies to premiere at the 2024 edition features no drug dealers, whistleblowers or bloodbaths. It’s about a sweet 93-year-old grandma who collects marbles and rides a mobility scooter.And, OK, yes she also holds a man at gunpoint.Running time: 97 minutes.

Since helming the Academy Award-nominated “Winter’s Bone” in 2010, Debra Granik has enjoyed shifting between a further dabble into feature-length filmmaking (“Leave No Trace”) in addition to documentary work (“Stray Dog”), which, when coupled with her eclectic decades-strong filmography clearly showcases an overabundance of ability and flair for skillfully adapting to any subject that comes her way. Another comfortable entry on her resume exists in “Conbody VS Everybody, “a six-part docu-series with a concept unlike anything she’s tackled prior while continuing to demonstrate her knack for creating something compelling while also supremely relevant to this day and age.

It might come as a surprise to most that the skirmish between Russia and Ukraine has been active for nearly a decade. However, international headlines would raise awareness to new heights upon Russia’s invasion of its neighbor in February of 2022.

Some movies are Irish. “Kneecap” is Ireland.

“We Are the World” was a once-in-a-generation meeting of musical giants when it was recorded Jan. 28, 1985 — and released two months later on March 7 — to benefit African famine relief.Anyone who was anyone in music at that moment — a who’s who of legends, including everyone from Stevie Wonder, Diana Ross and Bob Dylan to Billy Joel, Tina Turner and Bruce Springsteen — showed up to support the cause.Written by Michael Jackson and Lionel Richie and produced by Quincy Jones and ’80s hitmaker Michael Omartian, the single sold a whopping 20 million copies.

A formally rigorous and free-associative dive into a decade’s worth of political fighting in the Congo, from roughly 1955 to 1965, Johan Grimonprez’s “Soundtrack to a Coup d’Etat” is a fascinating and sprawling historical overview. Eschewing the usual mix of contextual talking heads, the Belgian filmmaker and multimedia artist instead adopts its narrative approach from the jazz that flows freely throughout the film and helps frame the political struggles of the Congo.

As one examines the abundance of cultures worldwide, to see the marginal way women continue to be treated on a global scale remains infuriating to take in during the era of #MeToo and the fact that seemingly little progress has been made even as our society makes its way into 2024. Though gains can undeniably be acknowledged on the political front and numerous other fields, it’s still apparent that an ocean exists in the way of real change, with “Black Box Diaries” a stunning example of the heavily outdated customs in which parts of our minuscule planet find themselves stuck and the women who suffer as a direct result.

As the “peak TV” wave begins to crest, artists are again realizing that not every book needs adaptation as a miniseries. There’s value in the concision and prioritization forced by the feature format.

It’s safe to assume that, were one to simply look at the film’s runtime or consider the basic concept surrounding the documentary “Daughters,“ there’s presumably much more to this than a simple film about a Father-Daughter dance organized for one particular group of incarcerated men and their children, separated by prison walls and an ocean of distance both physically as much as emotionally. Such dance events are commonplace; normally held annually as a way for fathers to bond with their young girls within a setting not unlike a homecoming dance or prom, most could be seen as little more than an excuse for a large group of children to burn off energy as they dash around a gymnasium to any number of DJ-provided pop hits, but there are equal parts undeniable connections made throughout the course of the evening as well as a memory both will, in all likelihood, forever cherish.

told People magazine at Sunday night’s Sundance Film Festival premiere of the new documentary, “Super/Man: The Christopher Reeve Story.““And what sticks with me most,” he said, “was after that incredible warm welcome and that very long standing ovation that he received, his introduction — he followed it up with a wonderful speech about how cinema and movies are at their best when they not only entertain, but they inform and educate and address issues.”Among those in the audience applauding the “Rear Window” actor that night were Tom Hanks, Quentin Tarantino, Brad Pitt, John Travolta, Meryl Streep, Jim Carrey and Nicolas Cage.Reeve also remembered how clips from movies including “Coming Home” and “Terms of Endearment” addressed important human issues.“So that’s always stuck with me,” he told People.

An exploration of the generational trauma surrounding the “stolen generations” of Aboriginal children by the Australian government, Jon Bell’s feature debut “The Moogai” fits all the criteria of what we would, perhaps pejoratively, describe as “elevated horror.” A fraught term, and one that would need more than the length of this review to dive into, it nevertheless seems apt for a film that so blatantly makes its subtext into text.

Men can be overbearing. Some of us know this firsthand because, with a bit of self-awareness, we can recognize we have, at least at some point, been the pompous bloviating jackass while more introverted people, sometimes women, silently sit and endure our blowhard monologues.