You can breathe it in the moment you walk inside. A fervent passion for all things film-related is palpable everywhere you look at Chicago's Music Box Theatre. It's there in the iconic marquee, its large letters that light up a bright crimson hue at night. It's certainly there when its organist plays popular songs with more than enough gusto to make longtime South Florida cinephiles nostalgic for the days the Miami Film Festival was held at the Olympia Theater.
It was the night of May 6, and I arrived there shortly after checking in at my hotel, in town to catch the tail end of the 2023 Chicago Critics Film Festival. The dimly lit lobby area felt cozy as local critic and lecturer Lee Shoquist introduced me to fest producer Brian Tallerico and programmers Steve Prokopy and Peter Sobczynski, then ushered me into the adjoining Music Box Lounge + Garden.
Chicago's Music Box Theatre during the 2024 Chicago Critics Film Festival.
More introductions followed, including to actress KiKi Layne. As it happens, the “If Beale Street Could Talk” star's latest effort, “Dandelion,” was playing just feet away. Do you know how when you meet movie stars, sometimes they don't have the magnetism they project on the big screen? That wasn't an issue with Layne, who was warm, gracious and radiant. Even running on a few hours of sleep as I was that night, I couldn't help being struck by her Golden Age aura.
Moments later, I followed Lee inside the theater's long, cavernous interior. Chicagoans may have become accustomed to its comforting confines, but for this first-timer, there was little doubt that this is hallowed ground. “Dandelion” ended shortly after. Many audience members stayed for the Q&A with Layne. Others made their way to the lobby exit, only to hear a single word, uttered with poise by a hands-on Sobczynski: “ballots!” Unlike festival screenings from many moons ago, where I was the one collecting audience award ballots, the moviegoers at the Music Box simply handed them over and kept on going. “Yup,” my inner monologue said, “I've come to a home away from home.”
From the vantage point of the Sunshine State, and its arts community's current struggles, the Music Box feels like a Midwestern oasis. For a few days, it was a privilege for this longtime film buff to see a distinctive grab bag of cinema – transporting, lyrical, blistering, frustrating, satisfying and a myriad other things movies tend to be when the lineup is as eclectic and broad in scope as this one is.
CCFF is billed as “Chicago's only film festival curated by critics,” and the care comes across in the programming. An opening night selection like the prison drama “Sing Sing,” unseen by me as of this writing, is shown side by side with vintage cartoons and live-action shorts, 35mm screenings of Martin Scorsese's “Bringing Out the Dead,” which I missed to catch the new “Planet of the Apes” movie, and Gillian Armstrong's (sublime) “Little Women.” There was no shortage of genre thrills, either. The pastoral slasher “In a Violent Nature,” which screened before I got there, was one of this year's more polarizing selections. (For the record, I liked it very much, but the ultraviolent, leisurely paced horror film is the your-mileage-will-vary conversation piece.)
MAZ film critic Ruben Rosario sits in Chicago's Music Box Theatre for the first time.
So here's a taste of the 2024 CCFF: Four titles running the gamut from a queer Southwestern ensemble piece to a vérité travelogue set in the Pacific Northwest, with a middlebrow crowd-pleaser shot in Chicago thrown in for good measure.
Two months after the festival wrapped up, they are finally making their way to theaters and, in one case, to a streaming platform. If there's a theme these pictures share, it's the sense of community people experience when they find others who share their passions, when they discover a safe space where ugly ducklings are seen for the majestic swans they are.
A big thank you to Lee, Brian, Steve and Peter for their generosity and for making this Floridian feel right at home in the Windy City. Here's to finding your tribe.
KiKi Layne as Dandelion in a scene from "Dandelion." (Photo courtesy of IFC Films)
“Dandelion”: It's hard out there for a struggling musician, especially one tired of compromising her work. In the case of this deeply felt character study from writer-director Nicole Riegel, compromising means playing the songs you slaved over for hours in a Cincinnati hotel lounge filled with guests who treat your compositions as so much background noise.
Thomas Doherty as Casey and KiKi Layne as Dandelion in a scene from "Dandelion." (Photo courtesy of IFC Films)
So it goes for Theresa (Layne). No, not Theresa. Her name once she walks on stage (or hotel lounge performing space) is Dandelion. The freedom the name evokes applies to this determined go-getter, but is it enough to withstand the collective indifference of her audience? It's certainly enough to withstand the taunts to give it up, already, from her mother Jean (Melanie Nicholls-King), who is ill, in health and disposition, and lugs around an oxygen tank. “There is nothing cute about a 40-year-old Cincinnati troubadour,” Jean snarls at her daughter, and the words carry a nasty sting.
Dandelion feels the walls closing in and the options petering out, so on impulse, she hops on her red Mustang convertible and hightails it to a battle of the bands at a biker rally in South Dakota. The gig goes south pretty quickly, but not before she draws the attention of Casey (“Gossip Girl's” Thomas Doherty), a scruffy yet boyish guitarist in town to perform with his former bandmates.
Dandelion's guard remains up when Casey approaches her, but he introduces her to his crew, this family of musically inclined nomads who welcome her into the fold. The earthy romance that ensues doesn't break any ground, and if much of “Dandelion” feels overly familiar, the way that Riegel foregrounds this pair's creative collaboration before they even address their growing physical attraction feels reasonably fresh. These songwriting sessions, as Dandelion and Casey bounce ideas for lyrics back and forth, help shape this engaging portrait of the artistic impulse and the toll it takes.
Charlie Plummer as Dylan in a scene from "National Anthem." (Photo courtesy of Variance Films)
And what backdrops to inspire them. Working with cinematographer Lauren Guiteras, Riegel takes advantage of the picturesque surroundings, beautifully shot on 16mm Kodak film: sun-kissed rock formations, bodies silhouetted against low available light, a liberating motorcycle ride down an impossibly pristine stretch of road. At times, “Dandelion” feels like an indie film from the 1990s in its disarming simplicity, and smartphones and viral videos aside, it could have easily taken place back then. Its retro appeal goes a long way, but it's Layne, capably carrying the film on her shoulders, who ultimately seals the deal.
“National Anthem”: But not all Amerindie productions are crafted the same, and music video director Luke Gilford, here making his feature debut, is unable to overcome the shopworn trappings that weigh down this tale of self-discovery and the makeshift families that adopt us.
The story centers on Dylan (Charlie Plummer), a quiet day laborer taking available gigs in rural New Mexico. Things are not stable back home, where his alcoholic, frequently absent mother Fiona (Robyn Lively) prompts Dylan to step up and become more of a parental figure to his little brother Cassidy (Joey DeLeon).
Charlie Plummer as Dylan and Mason Alexanfer Park as Carrie in a scene from "National Anthem." (Photo courtesy of Variance Films)
But Dylan's next work gig is going to rock his world, in more ways than one. He's hired as a ranch hand by the brawny, straight-to-business Pepe (Puerto Rican actor Rene Rosado), but it's Pepe's girl, Sky (Eve Lindley), who catches Dylan's eye. It doesn't take long for our protagonist to learn this isn't your typical dude ranch, and the people working alongside him are actually queer rodeo performers.
The drama that follows, as Dylan, who is straight, juggles his place in his newfound community with his domestic turmoil at home is watchable enough, depending on your tolerance for coming-of-age clichés, thanks in large part to a committed cast. But “National Anthem,” which puts an LGBTQ+ spin on patriotic imagery, is undermined at just about every turn by being told from the point of a cishet male, when the spotlight should have fallen on Sky, a far more captivating character. Conceiving this queer movie as the story of a straight guy who discovers queer people are cool and nurturing makes your movie feel considerably less queer and considerably more square.
Working from a screenplay by David Largman Murray, Gilford has only the best intentions here, but there's no way around it: having a straight audience surrogate as your main character is a stale narrative move. Even more tired is the romantic triangle that forms between Dylan, Sky and Pepe. Kudos to Rosado for going beyond Pepe's brusque macho surface to find different layers, but the movie gives his character short shrift.
Dolly De Leon as Rita and Keith Kupferer as Dan in a scene from "Ghostlight." (Photo courtesy of Luke Dyra/IFC Films)
It's pretty ironic that “National Anthem” walked away with the Outstanding First Feature Award at San Francisco's Frameline Film Festival in June, because LGBTQ+ audiences ought to be the first to call out Gilford for making his queer characters supporting players in a story that should have been all about them. Because a ranch filled with spirited queer people makes a far more intriguing family than their boring, dysfunctional hetero counterparts.
“Ghostlight”: Even more perplexing is the praise being lavished upon this underwhelming domestic dramedy that extols the transformative power of community theater. The film's masterminds, real-life couple Kelly O'Sullivan and Alex Thompson, don't even get enough mileage out of casting real-life husband, wife and daughter Keith Kupferer, Tara Mallen and Katherine Mallen Kupferer as an estranged Chicago-area household paralyzed with grief and regret over an unspecified traumatic event.
Katherine Mallen Kupferer as Daisy, Dexter Zollicoffer as Greg, Tommy Rivera-Vega as Lucian, H.B. Ward as Jonah, Dolly De Leon as Rita, Alma Washington as Moira and Hanna Dworkin as Lanora in a scene from "Ghostlight." (Photo courtesy of Luke Dyra/IFC Films)
O'Sullivan's script wastes no time in giving viewers the meet-cute event that sets “Ghostlight” in motion, then keeps hitting the same fish-out-of-water notes over and over. Dan, a construction worker fed up with his job, stumbles onto an amateur theater troupe that's putting on a production of “Romeo and Juliet.” The feisty Rita (“Triangle of Sadness'” Dolly De Leon) senses a fellow traveler in the gruff, withdrawn Dan, so she coaxes him into staying.
Reluctant acquiescence gives way to genuine interest, and it's not long until Dan's daughter Daisy (Mallen Kupferer), a loose cannon with anger management issues, becomes involved following circumstances too contrived to go into here. Like her character, Mallen Kupferer has considerable raw talent, but O'Sullivan and Thompson choose not to rein in her excesses, so her performance is way too shrill and unmodulated. As Sharon, Daisy's mom and Dan's wife, Mallen has an appealing naturalistic screen presence, but she's stuck in a largely thankless role that was probably one rewrite away from being an effective contrast to “Ghostlight's” easy laughs and other audience-friendly flourishes.
And then there's the tragedy that hovers over the film like a dark cloud. A more astute filmmaking team would have ripped off the Band-Aid from the get-go, but O'Sullivan and Thompson treat their viewers like children, teasing out the nature of the unfortunate event that threatens to disintegrate this family as if it were a mystery to solve. When the cat is finally out of the bag, it feels as if the filmmakers are hitting audiences in the head with the all-too-obvious parallels between real life and the centuries-old text they're trying to bring to life on stage.
The result is a strange hybrid that may not have found the word-of-mouth success that it aimed for but has nevertheless struck a chord with some audiences. Think “The Full Monty” with a dash of “Ordinary People,” only more hamfisted. The directors aim to depict theater as a vessel to help channel irrevocable loss, but they lack the finesse to stick the landing. “Ghostlight's” distributor, IFC Films, is clearly positioning it as this year's “CODA,” to which I can only say yeah, right, sure.
Tony Aburto, Micah Bunch, Nathaly Garcia, Nichole Dukes and Makai Garza as themselves in a scene from "Gasoline Alley." (Photo courtesy of MUBI)
“Gasoline Rainbow”: Far and away the best film I saw at this year's CCFF is this exuberant paean to the indomitability of youth and the thrills of traveling by the seat of your pants, especially when it's used as an escape valve. This is a road movie bent in the shape of a documentary, and that's no accident, since its directing duo, siblings Turner Ross and Bill Ross IV, also known as rossbros, started out in nonfiction. Through the course of their career, rossbros have honed their style in a way that blurs the line between what is real and what is staged. This is the closest they've come to making a full-fledged narrative feature, but their irresistible vérité flair is still on ample display.
The road beckons to a quintet of Oregon high school graduates who say they've never seen the Pacific coast. “Anywhere's better than Riley,” says one of them, referring to the oppressive lack of opportunities in their fictional small town. This close-knit circle of friends wants to make the summer between high school and the rest of their lives matter, so they pile into a van belonging to one of their parents, which has seen better days, and away they go, due east. Their destination for their largely unplanned getaway is a party on the Pacific they've heard about, which they hope will be an epic conclusion to their epic adventure. The freewheeling odyssey that follows probably doesn't turn out the way they expected. It's so much better.
Stars Tony Aburto, Micah Bunch, Nichole Dukes, Nathaly Garcia and Makai Garza are essentially playing themselves, so their chatter comes across as a home movie in ways both comforting and intimate. (Bunch, who looks like Paul Dano and Kit Connor's love child, is the one who leaves the more indelible impression.) The Ross siblings hint these kids are a mix of straight and queer, but their refusal to peg them one way or the other makes the film feel more inclusive, even more of a collective group hug.
Micah Bunch, Makai Garza, Tony Aburto, Nichole Dukes and Nathaly Garcia as themselves in a scene from "Gasoline Alley." (Photo courtesy of MUBI)
The movie flows with episodic zeal. It's clear there's a structure regarding each stop on the teens' voyage, which counters each setback and challenge they face with the kindness of strangers they meet along the way. They're fellow adventurers their age or older who share their lust for life, like a skateboarter in Portland who becomes their tour guide for a bit, or a family friend with a penchant for Peter Jackson's “The Lord of the Rings” trilogy. And yet, rossbros' style is so loose and nimble that the reality the film presents rarely feels manipulated for their purposes. Idle talk about pop music from before these kids were even born gives way to weightier conversations about domestic strife and immigration, but the film is much too bright and winsome to feel issue-driven.
“Gasoline Rainbow” effortlessly lifts the spirits. It also has cinema coming out of its pores, which makes it more than a little disheartening that it only got a very limited theatrical release, right after playing at CCFF, before it headed to streaming. This vibrant gem has been flying under the radar for too long. It is just waiting to be unwrapped and cherished. Are you in or out?
“Dandelion” is now playing in theaters across South Florida, including AMC Aventura, AMC Sunset Place, Regal South Beach and Regal Oakwood. “National Anthem” starts next Friday, July 19. “Ghostlight” is now showing through Wednesday at Savor Cinema in Fort Lauderdale and is expected to be available for digital rental soon. “Gasoline Rainbow” is now streaming on MUBI.
