A scene from the animated feature "Boys Go to Jupiter." (Photo courtesy of Glanderco)
Day 1 of the 42nd Miami Film Festival is in the rearview mirror, and in many ways it was a stroll down memory lane. For the first time in many a moon, the annual Magic City showcase of the moving image held a gala screening at the iconic Olympia Theater on Flagler Street, where many of us experienced the event in full back in the festival's heyday. (I arrived in Miami in 1995, so the 1996 edition was the first time I went.)
Which makes it all the more disappointing that the venue, at least in its current condition, wasn't quite ready for prime time on Thursday. Attendance numbers, while not quite reaching pre-pandemic levels, are certainly trending in the right direction, but the crowd had to sit for the Florida premiere of Julie Delpy's “Meet the Barbarians” in conditions that were ... considerably warmer than usual, suggesting the Olympia's air conditioning situation still needs to be ironed out.
Most disappointing of all, the organ music that greets filmgoers as they make their way inside the theater, with its starry ceiling and stunning Mediterranean design, was MIA in the M-I-A. The Olympia's organ sat unused, silent, in near darkness.
Delpy, who was scheduled to attend this showing of the dramedy she directed and stars in, had to bow out due to having been cast in the latest film by “Triangle of Sadness” and “Force Majeure” director Ruben Östlund at the last minute. The Oscar nominee apologized profusely in a video she sent from Hungary, where she is shooting “The Entertainment System Is Down” opposite Kirsten Dunst, Keanu Reeves and Daniel Brühl. The festival is also hosting a special screening of “Before Sunrise,” which helped put Delpy on the map for U.S. audiences back in 1995.
But it's still very early on in this year's fest, and with several more screenings scheduled at the Olympia, these setbacks set the event up for a comeback. Fingers crossed that the rest of the 2025 Miami Film Festival, which runs through Sunday, April 13, unfolds more smoothly.
Last year, my coverage focused on a trio of homegrown, made-in-Florida films, This year, the eclectic lineup, with its distinctly global flair, has made room for three animated features that show the format is not just the stuff of playdates and family matinees. One is set in the Sunshine State, another hails from the Dominican Republic, and the third, a Norwegian production with rather spicy subject matter, is bound to be one of this year's conversation starters. Let's dive right in.
“Boys Go to Jupiter”: A feature-length jab at all-American capitalism with Florida-man insouciance, a coming-of-age bent and a tantalizing sci-fi twist, this trippy number from artist Julian Glander appears to have its act together, but it's all dressed up with no place to go but in circles.
The unspecified Sunshine State setting will be familiar to anyone who's spent time in Central Florida. Billy 5000 (the voice of TikToker Jack Corbett) may have dropped out of high school and is getting by delivering food to the eccentric folks in his working class surroundings, but underneath the sullen façade is the undeniable drive of a budding entrepreneur, a stark contrast between him and his slacker friends living out the kind of aimless lives that Billy, who lives in his sister's garage and is estranged from his mom, appears to strive to rise above.
A scene from the animated feature "Boys Go to Jupiter." (Photo courtesy of Glanderco)
So what happens when Billy, who, like most of the human characters here, resemble Fisher-Price toys, crosses paths with a cute, doughnut-shaped purple critter with mysterious abilities? Not a hell of a lot, actually. Glander's 3-D visual style has a loopy DIY appeal that's reminiscent of programs you'd catch late at night on “Adult Swim,” where the filmmaker, here making his feature debut, has also shown his work, and it occasionally reminded me of the delightful Belgian film “A Town Called Panic.” But “Boys Go to Jupiter” just lies there, content to simply lean back on its Gen-Z sensibility, speckled with occasional musical interludes, that might be good for a few chuckles if you're high but sure comes across as grating and lame if you're experiencing this genre-bending doodle sober.
A scene from the animated feature "Boys Go to Jupiter." (Photo courtesy of Glanderco)
The limp plot somewhat thickens when Glander introduces Dolphin Groves, an OJ dynasty run by Dr, Dolphin (Janeane Garofalo). The aging scientist, whose past is linked to an outrageous urban legend, is losing confidence on her daughter (Miya Folick), who wants to be known as Rozebud, inheriting this juice empire. Most of the film's more intriguing parts are on the edges: a dazzling nighttime sky, a prehistoric-themed miniature golf course, “Problemista's” Julio Torres voicing minor characters in unsubtitled Spanish. More often than not, this navel-gazing bummer is just high on its own fumes.
A scene from the animated feature "Olivia & the Clouds." (Photo courtesy of Miyu Distribution)
“Olivia & the Clouds”: A slice of Latin American magic realism that slides into surrealism, this vividly rendered meditation on relationships, loneliness and the void left by a loved one's departure throws all kinds of animation styles at you, and even adds some evocative Super 8 millimeter footage into the mix. The Dominican production's curved, nesting-doll narrative structure might prove challenging for viewers who like their stories spelled out in concrete detail. That's not necessarily a bad thing.
Director Tomás Pichardo-Espaillat begins the film with the titular character (the voice of Olga Valdez), alone in her humble countryside abode with a tin roof that doesn't keep the rain out. Or is she? She appears to be talking to someone under her bed.
A scene from the animated feature "Olivia & the Clouds." (Photo courtesy of Miyu Distribution)
The film then takes viewers into a more urban setting and into the complicated lives of Barbara (Dominique Goris), an illustrator who clashes with her on-again, off-again, don't call him a boyfriend Mauricio (Fery Cordero Bello). And then there's Doña Olivia (Elsa Núñez), Ramón's mother, who whiles away the hours pining for her late husband and may be the bridge connecting the rural scenes with the rest of the film. To watch the characters trade barbs and Dominicanisms like “siempre la misma vaina” is half the fun here.
But just when you think you have all of the characters pinned down, Pichardo-Espaillat adds yet another layer: the story of Ramón (Héctor Aníbal) and his love affair with, I kid you not, a plant that speaks to him with a woman's voice. It's in this segment that “Olivia & the Clouds” hits its stride, suggesting a variation on Audrey II from “Little Shop of Horrors.”
A scene from the animated feature "Olivia & the Clouds." (Photo courtesy of Miyu Distribution)
To get there, however, Pichardo-Espaillat springs a succession of montages on viewers that are initially striking but grow exhausting. They make this 80-minute film feel considerably longer. But even as its pieces are too loosely strung together, “Olivia & the Clouds'” flights of fancy are strangely soothing. It plays like a moving art school collage that's too wispy for its own good but uses its dream logic to sweep you along all the same. It rewards your patience with a burst of creativity.
A scene from the animated feature "Spermageddon." (Photo courtesy of Charades Films)
“Spermageddon”: It's goofy, lewd and crass, but this sex-positive sex comedy from Norway is also thoroughly endearing, an ideal palate cleanser for the litany of serious movies with grave subject matter that festivalgoers will be experiencing over the next 10 days. This is the high-concept riff on insipid studio animation you didn't know you needed. And it has musical numbers, too!
Our human protagonists are Jens (the voice of Christian Fredrik Mikkelsen), a gawky ginger who spends way too much time on Pornhub, and Lisa (Nasrin Khusrawi), a curvaceous girl next door whose outward confidence masks adolescence's awkward pangs and a penchant for geek culture that draws her to Jens. Both teens are spending a weekend with friends, away from parental supervision, thus setting the stage for some potentially cathartic hanky panky.
A scene from the animated feature "Spermageddon." (Photo courtesy of Charades Films)
But “Spermageddon” also tells the story of Simen (Aksel Hennie) and Cumilla (Mathilde Storm), two sperms living in Jens' testicles with opposing views on the seismic sexytime that will potentially send them in a quest to fertilize an egg. Cumilla sees the discharge of bodily fluids as her destiny, whereas Simen, as nerdy as his host body, questions if that's all there is to their existence.
This second narrative strand is essentially the final segment of Woody Allen's “Everything You Always Wanted to Know About Sex,” only reconceived as a hero's journey that channels DreamWorks Animation releases like “Antz” (which also featured Allen's voice) and “Bee Movie,” with a dash of Disney-Pixar's “Inside Out” movies thrown in for good measure. The Pixar parallels don't stop there. One look at Jens immediately brings “Ratatouille's” Alfredo Linguini to mind.
Directors Tommy Wirkola and Rasmus A. Sivertsen deftly intertwine both storylines, to the point that Simen and Cumilla's arc becomes the kind of Tolkienesque journey that both Jens and Lisa would salivate over. The all-too-brief song-and-dance numbers, of course, scream “South Park,” another influence that looms large over this raunchy romp.
A scene from the animated feature "Spermageddon." (Photo courtesy of Charades Films)
Not everything in “Spermageddon” works. The film's villain, a 'roided up sperm with a super suit that's a tip of the hat to “Iron Man,” is a one-dimensional baddie with a mustache to twirl, though an early scene is an effective homage to “Robocop.” There's also something pat and facile about the way the film dispatches some of its supporting characters. But good vibes, and a disarmingly progressive perspective, win the day in this pro-choice odyssey where the dirty talk feels surprisingly wholesome.
“Boys Go to Jupiter” screens Tuesday, April 8, at 9 p.m. at the Bill Cosford Cinema. “Olivia & The Clouds” screens Sunday, April 6, at noon at Silverspot Cinema in downtown Miami. “Spermageddon” also screens Sunday, April 6, at 9 p.m. at the Silverspot. For more information on this year's lineup and tickets, go to miamifilmfestival.com.
