Yesterday (1.21) I posted a lament piece called “Sundance ’18 Feels Sluggish, Listless, Agenda-Driven.” It basically said that so far the festival feels like weak tea, and that there’ve been no knockouts, and that all the p.c. agenda films make you feel like you’re attending a socialist summer camp in the snow.
I spoke too soon, of course. This morning I saw a major-league indie breakthrough called We, The Animals, and last night I finally saw Lynne Ramsay‘s You Were Never Really Here, which is my idea of a brilliant arthouse thriller.
Today Variety‘s Owen Gleiberman followed suit with a piece titled “Sundance 2018: Where Are the Masterpieces? Sorry, There Are None.”
Excerpt: “Even if you forget the politics of awards season, my own feelings about any given year at Sundance, going back to the first time I attended (in 1995), tend to hinge on whether I find at least one special movie to fall in love with, a film that’s not just good but great.
“This year, five days into the festival, it’s been a place where I haven’t seen anything like that.
“What’s more, I’ve heard this sentiment echoed, over and over, from just about everyone I’ve spoken to. There doesn’t seem to be a movie people are getting high on. The home run hasn’t been hit. The Christmas tree lacks a star. I promise, that’s my last metaphor. But you get the point.”