Every Movie We Saw At Sundance 2024, From Must-Sees To The Totally Forgettable

The Sundance Film Festival returned to Park City this year, bringing with it a cavalcade of new films, many of which we'll probably be talking about throughout the rest of 2024. We've rounded up looks at every film we watched at Sundance this year, bringing you insight into the best, the worst, and everything in between. As always, we urge you to seek out these films for yourself. Movies live and die by their audience, and many of the films at Sundance are small affairs that need to find viewers in order to thrive. So don't just take our word for it — give yourself over to a new movie, one you might not even have noticed. There are more than big studio blockbusters in the film world, and they need your help. Our list below is merely a guide, it's up to you to take the journey.

Anyone who's paying attention knows the U.S. prison system is f***ed. But "Daughters," a documentary about a group of young girls who participate in a daddy/daughter dance in a prison with their incarcerated fathers, explores the ripple effects of how the system has set up its inmates to fail.

The film follows several daughters as they prepare to reunite with their dads at this dance, presenting a range of emotions and reactions from girls of different ages. Five-year-old Aubrey, whose father was taken away one night without being able to say goodbye to her, is thrilled at the prospect of seeing her dad again, whereas the 10-year-old Santana, who is better able to understand that her family's situation is the direct result of her dad being locked up, has more complicated feelings about confronting her father. The doc also brings cameras into the prison to watch the inmate participants as they undergo a multi-week series of discussions with a fatherhood coach, allowing them to open up about their relationships with their own fathers, the societal factors that contributed to their imprisonment, their responsibilities as dads, what they can do to remain in their daughter's lives, and much more.

Without being didactic or ham-fisted, Patton and her co-director Natalie Rae shine a light on the evils of these institutions and how the system is not only uninterested in rehabilitating its captors, but actually has a financial interest in keeping its inmates behind bars. The film wisely never delves into the specific crimes these men committed; in doing so, it asks the audience to put judgments aside and think about the injustices of a system that goes out of its way to prevent human contact between a father and his children for years at a time. Seeing these girls reunite (and sometimes reconcile) with their loved ones is incredibly affecting, and just may change the way you think about the way this country handles incarceration.

Emotionally devastating and hauntingly tragic, "Daughters" provides a clear playbook for rehabilitation. Unfortunately, it doesn't seem as if the prison system is interested in adopting it. (Ben Pearson)

/Film Rating: 9 out of 10

It's been more than 10 years since "Be Right Back," the episode of "Black Mirror" starring Hayley Atwell and Domhnall Gleeson that centered on communicating with a version of a dead loved one created by artificial intelligence. Now the real world has basically caught up with that sci-fi premise, and "Eternal You," a new documentary from Hans Block and Moritz Riesewieck, dives into the murky quagmire of what that means.

While AI companies aren't yet to the point that they can create an android that looks and interacts believably like a human, several of them now provide less extreme services to bereaved people who are desperate for ways to get closure after experiencing devastating personal losses. One uses ChatGPT to create a chat bot that types in the deceased's voice. Another uses vocal cloning technology to allow the dead to "speak" with the living in a familiar voice. A third tries to embed a digital nervous system into a digital baby so it can react in truly realistic ways when it's being interacted with. And yet another uses scans of audio and videos to create a digital replica of a dead person in virtual reality, so a mother can don goggles and interact with a daughter who died tragically young.

The doc does an excellent job of presenting several sides of the ethical and moral debate surrounding the existence of these companies and services, allowing tech bro founders the room to wax poetic about humanity's inevitable (to them, anyway) digital immortality while also featuring interviews with journalists and ethicists counteracting the points that were just made. There are interactions that appear to be positive for the customers, but a handful that are tragically negative: One of the dead men "speaking" through a chatbot tells his living lover that he's currently in hell, which naturally disturbs her a great deal, while another begins swearing at and threatening his own daughter.

In one exchange between siblings, a brother explains to his sister (who has been using a service to communicate with her dead lover) that these services may have been created with good intentions, but are still working in a capitalist system that is designed to extract money from the bereaved. At another point, someone says, "We don't know how consciousness is produced, which is a very important step if you want to replicate it with a machine." The filmmakers give the appearance of objectivity, but including moments like these seem to be subtle hints about where they stand in these debates.

There are some gut-wrenching lines here as you watch subjects have these digital interactions and grapple with the consequences, and one well-deployed shot of a cemetery is especially effective; it's a simple image on its own, but given the context of the conversations around it, viewers can almost imagine digital zombies rising from all of those graves. I'm lucky enough not to be in the position of having just lost a close loved one, so I'm in no position to cast judgment on these people or claim there's a "right" way to grieve. But one thing seems clear: Capitalizing on the digital afterlife is likely going to be a lucrative business model in the years to come. If you'd like to see a glimpse of what's coming, "Eternal You" provides an effective, if slightly depressing, primer. (Ben Pearson)

/Film Rating: 8.5 out of 10

Andre Holland is one of our best actors — he has a presence and a voice that captures us in almost hypnotic ways. Anytime he gets to lead a project, it's worth paying attention to, and that's certainly the case with Titus Kaphar's contemplative "Exhibiting Forgiveness." Here, Holland plays Tarrell, a brilliant artist who paints huge pictorials that represent memories from his childhood. That childhood, we soon learn, is fraught and full of trauma — trauma that causes Tarrell to wake up screaming and violent at night, scaring both his wife (Andra Day) and young son (Daniel Michael Barriere).

Tarrell's trauma is rooted in his relationship with his estranged father La'Ron (John Earl Jelks), a recovering drug addict who was abusive to Tarrell and his mother Joyce (Aunjanue Ellis-Taylor). All these years later, La'Ron says he's a changed man, and Joyce urges Tarrell to give the man a second chance. But that won't be easy, and through a series of disturbing flashbacks, we see why. Holland is magnificent here, bringing a raw intensity to the part; he's a man burning up inside. And he's matched by Jelks, who is phenomenal, playing La'Ron not as a monster but as a very damaged man with trauma of his own. How can this father and son ever reconcile? Is it even possible? There are no easy answers, and Kaphar's film isn't interested in wrapping things up in a neat little bow. Instead, the film feels quiet and reflective, with a burning heart at its center, all of it accentuated by an incredible musical score from Jherek Bischoff. While some of the dialogue can border on preachy, "Exhibiting Forgiveness" impresses with its humanity and its honesty. (Chris Evangelista)

/Film Rating: 7 out of 10

In 2020, director Benjamin Ree brought a mesmerizing documentary called "The Painter and the Thief" to the Sundance Film Festival, and it won the World Cinema Documentary Special Jury Award for Creative Storytelling. Now he's back with "Ibelin," which has won both the Audience Award and the Directing Award in the World Cinema Documentary category at the 2024 festival. Those prizes are well-deserved: "Ibelin" is one of the best films of 2024.

Mats Steen was born with Duchenne muscular dystrophy, an incurable disease that progressively weakens one's muscles, resulting in an early death. His parents watched their son eventually waste away, missing out on the relationships, love, and dynamics they wished he'd be able to experience, and instead spending his time immersed in the online universe of World of Warcraft. But when Mats died at age 25, his parents received a flood of messages from Mats' online friends and learned he was living a vibrant digital life, experiencing exactly the types of things they'd hoped for him, but just in a more unconventional setting.

Thanks to a log of all of Mats' digital interactions, Ree utilizes World of Warcraft character models and the gaming apparatus to recreate Mats' digital life, and coupled with narration from a blog Mats kept at the time, as well as interviews with the real-life people with whom he was interacting, the audience is able to immerse ourselves in Mats' world and watch him experience those emotions and relationships, painting a detailed life of an empathetic, good-hearted young man who cared for others, frequently offered sage advice, and fell in love.

"Ibelin," which moved me to tears several times, is almost like "It's A Wonderful Life" for the digital era: A reminder that everyone has the potential to have profound impacts on those around them, and a deeply moving celebration of the power of connection. (Ben Pearson)

/Film Rating: 9.5 out of 10

Doc and Zoe are in trouble. The hapless duo has kidnapped a presidential candidate's son, but through a series of convoluted contrivances, they're not able to turn him in to their boss. Instead, they try to kidnap another guy who looks just like their target — but in all the pandemonium of the second kidnapping, they also end up snagging the lookalike's wife, who is nine months pregnant. Naturally, things even more get chaotic from there.

"Chaotic" is an apt word to describe co-writer and director Bruno Moral's first feature, as the movie's tone (and its characters) end up swinging in all kinds of conflicting directions. The film takes place in Haiti, which opening text tells us features huge numbers of kidnappings as its citizens struggle to make ends meet. While the film begins quietly enough, with Doc (Jasmuel Andri) and Zoe (Rolaphton Mercure) cracking jokes and telling stories as they change a tire with their hostage tied up in the trunk of their car, the rest of the movie is turned up to 11, both in volume and in its outlandish scenarios. This is ostensibly a comedy, but most of the jokes fall flat — the movie seems to treat characters squabbling and screaming at each other as if those situations are inherently funny, even though they're not actually saying anything humorous.

It's also an overtly political film, taking barbed swipes at corruption at the highest levels of the Haitian government. As someone with an admittedly limited knowledge of Haiti's history and sociopolitical status, I'm positive I did not fully comprehend the extent of the political commentary embedded into this movie. But even though some of the movie's jabs surely went over my head, the film's scenes are so heightened and ridiculous that it's difficult to stay engaged with them. Early on, cacophony becomes the movie's operating principle, and by the time it finally slows down enough to catch its breath, it's too late; its ending, which is intended to be a change of pace, doesn't land emotionally because the proper groundwork hasn't been laid for it.

It's a shame, because Andri and Mercure have real charisma — their dynamic is the best part of the film, but they spend so much time trapped in the heightened chaos of the plot that they're rarely given a chance to showcase any shades of that relationship except ones fueled by adrenaline. The premise had promise, but sadly, I thought "Kidnapping Inc." was a muddled miss. (Ben Pearson)

/Film Rating: 4 out of 10

One of the most unexpected films I saw at Sundance this year was Jack Begert's sneaky "Little Death." Here is a film that almost dares you to talk about it, simply because it's not playing by the rules. Essentially two movies in one, "Little Death" begins like a Charlie Kaufman-esque story of a miserable TV screenwriter trying to get his first feature film made. Played by David Schwimmer as a man who looks constantly tired and sweaty, the writer, Martin Solomon, narrates his way through a series of trippy fantasy images clearly created by A.I. He's written a script about his life, but his producers want him to change his lead character to a woman — at which point Schwimmer suddenly vanishes and is played by Gaby Hoffmann. But wait, there's even more trickery at work here. 

Without giving anything specific away, "Little Death" suddenly changes everything and becomes the story of two drug-addicted young friends, played by Talia Ryder and Dominic Fike, as they navigate one hellish night in Hollywood. The film doesn't just change lead characters, it completely changes its style and tone, too, going from silly over-the-top surrealism to gritty grounded realism in the blink of an eye. It's jarring, and it doesn't quite click, but it's fascinating to watch. It helps that Ryder's character, Karla, is wholly sympathetic despite her flays, and that Ryder's performance all but single-handedly elevates the material. I don't think the bait-and-switch nature of "Little Death" works, but I appreciate filmmaker Begert's audacity in trying to pull this off. (Chris Evangelista)

/Film Rating: 6 out of 10

Stop me if you heard this one before: in a post-apocalyptic world, a lonely buoy and a friendly satellite fall in love. That admittedly bonkers scenario is at the core of Sam and Andy Zuchero's sweet but frustrating "Love Me." Dealing with the trappings and limitations of social media, "Love Me" uses its end-of-the-world scenario to stage an unlikely love story. After some cataclysmic event has wiped out all of humanity, a smart buoy named Me drifts alone through a recently thawed sea just outside of the ruins of New York. One day, a satellite named Iam floats overhead and catches her eye. The two strike up a conversation and Me decides to pass herself off as a "lifeform" in order to grow closer to Iam. To do so, she scrolls through the internet — still alive and kicking even after the apocalypse — and happens upon a sickeningly sweet series of videos from content creator Deja (Kristen Stewart) and her husband Liam (Steven Yeun). Using that relationship as a blueprint, Me and Iam enter a Sims-like world where their animated avatars attempt to spark love. But can love even exist between these two objects play-acting as humans?

This is a great set-up, and Stewart and Yeun are more than game for the material. Unfortunately, "Love Me" begins to grow tiresome, spinning its wheels and devolving into a series of arguments between the characters as they struggle to learn who and what they really are. From a purely aesthetic level, the film is a winner — the opening sequences on post-apocalyptic Earth immediately recall Pixar's "WALL-E," while the digital animation used to render the characters into not-quite-flesh is fascinating. But "Love Me" can't quite find the right spark to deliver on its premise. While Stewart and Yeun are great performers, their characters are too blank for their own good — how could they not be? They're artificial. Quirky and occasionally charming, "Love Me" comes up short in the end. (Chris Evangelista)

/Film Rating: 5 out of 10

"Policing is a pathway to power."

So says one of the talking heads in director Yance Ford's "Power," a documentary about the history of the police in the United States, its intrinsic link to the history of race in this country, and how it has spun so wildly out of control since its inception. Through a series of interviews and archival footage, Ford tracks the three-pronged origins of how the police came to exercise its power, citing frontier militias displacing indigenous communities, slave patrols in the South, and police forces regulating breaking strikes and regulating working people in order to preserve class order and protect employers' property. As the country grew, those three prongs essentially merged into one and became the basis for the entity we know today.

The film lays out how the reaction to the thousands of rebellions of the civil rights era supercharged police brutality, and how the militarization of the cops was not a one-way street: A case is made that while local precincts received infusions of military-grade weapons and tactical gear, the U.S. military actually adopted techniques used by the police to shape its overseas engagements.

If you've ever read a critical essay about the police, this film probably won't tell you much you don't already know. But as someone who did not grow up being taught the truth about this subject, I'm happy the movie exists. (In fact, I was not taught much of anything about this subject; upon reflection, I realize the lack of spotlighting this institution was, passively or otherwise, a way to perpetuate its worst qualities.) People come to realizations about our society and its dysfunctions at different times in their lives, and though some may question the film's effectiveness or say it's "preaching to the choir," I'm glad it can potentially serve as an on-ramp for folks to reach one of those realization points.

The more on-ramps we're given, the better — especially since truths like the ones presented in "Power," often involving ties to racist ideas or origins, have been purposefully swept under the societal rug. I know I'd like as many of those on-ramps as possible for my own personal journey of knowledge and growth, and I'm hopeful that curious audiences seek it out when it hits Netflix at some point this year. (Ben Pearson)

/Film Rating: 8 out of 10

"Committed to the bit" perfectly describes the latest feature from The Zellner Brothers (David and Nathan) entitled "Sasquatch Sunset." The film is a 90-minute-long slice-of-life, documentary-style collection of footage that follows the daily trials and tribulations of an average Sasquatch family. There's no dialogue, just a collection of grunts, groans, howls, and other bodily functions that serve as the main form of communication between the creatures. If Sasquatches were real, "Sasquatch Sunset" would serve as a "Planet Earth"-style unfettered look at their existence, their socialization, their habits, and their place in the animal kingdom.

Of course, Sasquatches are not real, and it's in that truth that the uncanny tone of the film lies. Given that what we're watching is a film featuring human actors in makeup acting like mythical creatures, the movie could be seen as a tedious exercise in irony, an overlong sketch, or an "Adult Swim"-type troll (the movie's penchant for scatological humor would lend itself to this interpretation). Yet there's something else at work in "Sasquatch Sunset," as indicated by that title; the film ultimately feels like a moving expression of something that the author John Koenig dubbed "anemoia," where a sense of nostalgia is created for a thing that never was. (Bill Bria)

/Film Rating: 7 out of 10

Read the full review here.

Watching 2018's "Free Solo," the Oscar-winning documentary about rock climber Alex Honnold's daring attempt to scale Yosemite's El Capitan with no ropes to protect him from potentially falling, was such a visceral viewing experience, it caused my palms to sweat.

The same thing can be said of "Skywalkers: A Love Story," director Jeff Zimbalist's new documentary about Angela Nikolau and Ivan "Vanya" Beerkus, two Russian "rooftoppers" who have become famous for breaking into skyscrapers, climbing to their highest possible points, and taking photos and videos for social media. The two begin the film as rivals, but team up to work together and eventually ... well, the phrase "fall for each other" carries a heavy connotation given their particular niche, so let's just say their dynamic changes as they survive some ridiculously dangerous climbs and come to love one another. Armed with a phalanx of GoPros, cameras, and drones, Vanya is the straightforward tactician, while Angela, whose parents were circus performers, brings an artsier touch to their "work," performing acrobatics and gymnastic poses mere inches from precipitous drops. They balance each other out.

If you're scared of heights, this film is basically your worst nightmare. (Ben Pearson)

/Film Rating: 8.5 out of 10

Read the full review here.

Every once in a while at Sundance, a film comes along with a performance from a rising star that feels like it will follow that person for years. Shailene Woodley in "The Spectacular Now" and Elizabeth Olsen in "Martha Marcy May Marlene" are two good examples; both of those actresses have gone on to have solid careers, and when they come up in conversation, those indie performances are still spoken of fondly by film fans. My hope is that "Suncoast" will be that movie for up-and-coming star Nico Parker. She's been on the scene for a few years now (she appeared in Tim Burton's "Dumbo," but you may better remember her as Joel's daughter in the pilot episode of HBO's "The Last of Us"), and this handsomely made debut from writer/director Laura Chinn is a terrific showcase for Parker's strengths as a young performer.

She plays Doris, a high school girl living in Florida with her frazzled mother (Laura Linney, playing it big but still believable) and slightly older brother, who has spent the past six years ravaged by cancer and is not able to move on his own. Doris desperately wants to have a normal teenage experience, but her brother's situation — and her mom's single-minded focus on caring for him and making sure Doris cares for him, to the significant detriment of her own relationship with Doris — has kept her on the sidelines. But when her brother is moved into the same assisted living facility where Terri Schiavo lives (the film is set in 2005, and the Schiavo case is a big part of the story's backdrop) and her mom decides to sleep by her son's side, that opens up their small house as a potential hang-out spot for Doris and her classmates. She quickly makes friends by offering to host a party for the cool kids (played by Ella Anderson and Amarr, among others), and while so many other movies follow the tropes of mean girls who take advantage of the mousy Doris and use her for their own means, "Suncoast" actually lets Doris form legitimate bonds with them.

Parker, who turns in a natural and wonderfully felt performance, also forms a bond with an activist played by Woody Harrelson, a Christian man who is still reeling from the death of his wife and was inspired to join a protest about Schiavo's treatment at the facility. The two are on the opposite ends of the ideological spectrum but are able to find common ground through listening to one another (something Doris absolutely does not get from her mom), and Harrelson is understated but excellent in his supporting role.

Brimming with authentic details (the story is based on Chinn's experiences with her own brother), "Suncoast" is a moving family drama that, in years past, would have been a clear launchpad to the next phase of Parker's career. Hulu has already acquired this film, and it'll get a limited theatrical release on February 2 before hitting the streaming service on February 9, 2024. Let's hope that type of launchpad effect is still possible in the streaming era. (Ben Pearson)

/Film Rating: 9 out of 10

Writer/director Josh Margolin, who's making his feature directorial debut, never plays the situation for laughs. A lazy approach would be to tell this story at a remove, giving the audience enough distance where we'd be tempted to look at these characters as if they're animals in a zoo. Aw, look at the cute old people! Aren't they precious? But according to the press notes for the film, "Thelma" is based on a real-life experience that happened to Margolin's grandmother (video footage of her appears briefly in the end credits), and you can feel that this is a personal movie for him. He treats this subject matter seriously. That's not to say there aren't moments of comedy, but when they come, they're never at the expense of the characters. There's no "rapping grandma" humor here — Thelma's plight is handled with respect, and by putting us in her perspective, Margolin allows us to empathize and see the world through her eyes. Considering how Hollywood typically treats elderly actors (and, frankly, how America treats its elderly population in general), this approach is extremely rare. (Ben Pearson)

/Film Rating: 8 out of 10

Read the full review here.

"War Game" isn't what one might consider a typical horror movie, but thanks to its subject matter, it's one of the scariest films you're likely to see in 2024.

Two years after the January 6, 2021 insurrection, a collection of current and former U.S. intelligence agents, Army veterans, defense specialists, senators, and high-ranking advisors meet near the U.S. Capitol to participate in a secret national security exercise overseen by a non-partisan veterans organization called Vet Voice. With concerns running high that the next real-life insurrection could involve members of the active duty military, this unscripted exercise was concocted to see how the federal government might respond to a contested presidential election in 2024, and another attempt to stop the peaceful transfer of power on January 6, 2025. This time, the loser of the presidential race openly calls for rebellion by encouraging military members to ignore orders from the President and take up arms against their countrymen. It's January 6 on steroids.

Is the United States ready for that? What kinds of decisions would need to be made in the situation room if such a scenario were to occur? With the participants assigned to various roles (example: the governor of Montana portrays the President of the United States), directors Jesse Moss and Tony Gerber take us inside that room to witness how it might all go down. A timer is set for six hours to see if democracy can be saved, or if the insurrectionists will overrun the country. 

Without spoiling how the exercise pans out, when we look back on "War Game" at this time next year, hopefully, the whole thing will feel like an unnecessary precaution. At best, maybe it'll seem like a prequel to Alex Garland's "Civil War." But at worst, it might seem like a prophetic prediction of a terrifying reality — one for which we should have been much better prepared. In hindsight, this could end up being the scariest movie of the year. (Ben Pearson)

/Film Rating: 8 out of 10