‘Veni Vidi Vici’ Trailer: A Billionaire Family Hunts Humans In Upcoming Sundance Social Satire

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.

As the latest feature from writers/directors Fernanda Valadez and Astrid Rondero (“Identifying Features”) draws to a close, it’s hard to ignore the starkness, pacing, and tone overall; this is hardly the sort of film one puts on as any sort of a palate cleanser. While superbly well-made, beautifully shot, and comprised of a cast firing on all cylinders in terms of acting ability, to make it through “Sujo” is akin to a slight exercise in endurance, though not without a noticeable crescendo as the film chugs along.

“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.

By now, it should be evident that each passing year brings with it advancements in technology, landing anywhere on an imaginary graph containing the likes of the latest smartphone to a car that can brew a mean cup of coffee. One area that’s been hovering over the whole of humanity for far longer than a need for a house that dictates a grocery list is that of the afterlife; pondering what happens after each and every one of us shuffle off this mortal coil remains, quite possibly, an everlastingly unanswerable question, but for those left behind in the wake of a loved one’s passing, a more pressing matter would be the manner in which one deals with said loss, and how best to move on.

Last Friday’s biggest news may have been the first castings for Jason Reitman‘s upcoming “SNL 1975,” all about the behind-the-scenes shenanigans from the legendary TV show’s opening night on October 11, 1975. And the cast for Reitman’s film is already formidable with young talent, with Gabriel LaBelle playing “SNL” creator Lorne Michaels, Rachel Sennott as writer Rachel Shuster and Cooper Hoffman as NBC exec Dick Ebersol.

PARK CITY – Movies that stick with you long after you watch them are nothing new. There are literally thousands of examples in the history of cinema.

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.

It starts innocuously enough. “Krazy House,” the English-language debut of Dutch filmmakers Steffen Haars and Flip van der Kuil, launches with a ‘90s family sitcom parody that ribs their cheese and cringe.

China began loosening its one-child policy in 2015 until finally, in 2021, it abolished all restrictions on the number of children a family could have. Young Chinese filmmakers are beginning to grapple with the fallout of those prior decades in new fiction films that demonstrate how the Chinese family unit has been irreversibly transformed.

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.

The premise of the documentary “Will & Harper” is so simple that it almost seems presentational, self-serving, or stunt-y. The idea is, after 30 years of friendship, comedian Will Ferrell learns, through a personal email, that an old friend and former “Saturday Night Live” writer, then Adam Steele (yes, the dead name is used at first), is coming out as a trans woman.

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.

The first of many misdirects of perspective occurs in the opening shot of “In a Violent Nature.” The film opens with off-screen voices in discussion as the camera fixes its glance on what appears like a slipshod frame of a tree branch in the forest. It’s an image that feels haphazardly put together, and combined with the disembodied dialogue, filmmaker Chris Nash primes the audience to perceive the scene as something akin to a DIY YouTube video.

Every so often, a film comes along that, as if out of nowhere, leaves an unexpected impression and a need to find a moment to take in all that was witnessed fully; it’s a phenomenon that can come from any genre, any type of project, any filmmaker or subject, from battles in a galaxy far, far away to the intricate life story of a media tycoon. Sometimes, the smallest forms of art end up being the most effective, with “Sugarcane” a perfect example of how to draw in an audience to the film’s powerful message with moments as shocking as any entry into the world of horror.

Every human being, to some degree, takes for granted their loved ones, those who are present in their lives. But appreciating the fragility of who you have, and for the brief time you may have them, is difficult to consider when you’re a teenager trying to live your life and discover your place in the world.

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.

Titus Kaphar’s luminous directorial debut, “Exhibiting Forgiveness,” featuring another electrifying turn by the always-captivating André Holland, begins with a James Baldwin quote. “If the relationship of father to son could really be reduced to biology, the whole earth would blaze with the glory of fathers and sons.” READ MORE: Sundance 2024: The 23 Most Anticipated Movies To Watch It’s a bruising quote, given the context of the personal and aching movie, a superbly incandescent but wrenching tale of generational pain, inexcusable parental mistakes, the legacy of family trauma, and, at its core, a broken father/son relationship.

Kobi Libii’s work on the sadly short-lived Comedy Central show “The Opposition with Jordan Klepper” always tended toward the confrontational. By donning the guise of right-wing media provocateurs, he highlighted the absurd internal contradictions of ideological hardliners.

There’s commitment to the bit, and then there’s David and Nathan Zellner. The brothers’ latest film “Sasquatch Sunset,” billed to Sundance audiences as only “a year in the life of a singular family,” makes good on the filmmaking duo’s long desire to make a film about the legend of Bigfoot.

When is an aspiring sociopolitical satire so exasperated with what it’s supposedly lampooning that its anger and indignation threaten to undermine the irony of what it’s trying to ridicule? Directed by Austrian pair Daniel Hoesl and Julia Nieman, their Sahara dry, deadpan social satire, “Veni Vidi Vici” (Latin for “I came; I saw; I conquered”)— about the untouchable nature of the rich and powerful of the world, and how consequences for their actions have largely vanished — isn’t necessarily that film.