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Best known for her work in television, writer-director Laura Chinn (Pop TV’s Florida Girls) debuts her first feature Suncoast at this year’s Sundance Film Festival.

Set in 2005, the semi-autobiographical dramedy follows Doris (Nico Parker), a socially awkward teenager living a far from normal life in Florida. Instead of participating in any extracurriculars or socializing with classmates, she spends her time outside of school helping her overwhelmed mom Kristine (Laura Linney) care for her sick brother Max (Cree Kawa). They move him into Suncoast hospice, where he’ll spend his last months.

While the film dramatizes some elements of Chinn’s experiences, the deeply personal story is also set against the backdrop of a real-life right-to-die debate that dominated news coverage starting in the late 1990s. Terri Schiavo, a woman who was in an irreversible vegetative state after suffering a cardiac arrest in 1990, happens to be in the same facility. When they arrive, it’s anything but peaceful.  

In a panel discussion with TheWrap, Chinn explained that it was “such a[n] odd, coincidental thing that I was going into this hospice to visit my brother but getting patted down for guns and bombs, dealing with all of this at the same time.” Due to the controversial case, the front entrance is always crowded with protesters and police, only adding to Kristine’s perpetual frustration. 

The single mom is assertive, always frazzled, and tends to lash out. All of her compassion and love is directed at Max, even though she still has a living daughter. Considering she’s forced to watch her son slowly die, her behavior is understandable. However, Kristine is too preoccupied with him to truly care about Doris. More often than not, their interactions consist of her scolding the teenager for thinking about herself and things she deems frivolous.

As a young girl who’s lost relatives in the past, Doris is almost desensitized to the thought of death. She loves her brother but also longs to be normal like her peers. Like most teenagers, Doris wants to sit and watch TV (namely the early aughts reality classics The Hills and The Anna Nicole Show), have friends, and go to parties. But she lives a very different reality than the typical teenager and is easily embarrassed about it.

Kristen and Doris both have their moments when they’re (mostly) unintentionally cruel to one another because they don’t understand each other at all. It’s unfair of Kristine to get in the way of her living child having any semblance of normality. But Doris also doesn’t really consider all that her mother does, how it must feel to be losing a child and anxiously anticipating the end, all while working hard to provide for the family. 

Taking advantage of her current living situation (Kristine sleeps at the hospice), Doris does the irresponsible thing and offers up her empty home as the new adult-free party spot for her classmates. She becomes fast friends with Laci (Daniella Taylor), Brittany (Ella Anderson), Megan (Ariel Martin), and Nate (Amarr), who introduce her to drugs, alcohol, and playing truth or dare in underwear. Doris’ excitement, awkwardness, and genuine happiness are so authentic to joining a new friend group, especially if you were previously friend-less. 

Doris also begins an unlikely friendship with Paul (Woody Harrelson), one of the activists against pulling Shivo off of life support. He’s a widower who believes all life is precious. It’s hard not to love the always charismatic Harrelson, which he perfectly infuses in Paul, making him just as lively and positive as he is sometimes melancholic, a character who’s lived through a lot of pain but still sees joy in living. It’s a balance the actor always pulls off well and a welcome salve after the heart-wrenching scenes.

Chinn’s style is reminiscent of Greta Gerwig, Jason Reitman, and early Taika Waititi, specifically 2007’s Eagle vs Shark. Given the time period, it reminds me a lot of Hulu’s aughts-centric PEN15, especially the more heartfelt scenes between Maya and Anna. Anyone nostalgic for the early to mid-2000s will love the film’s throwback hits from artists like Weezer, Erykah Badu, and Christina Milian. Music supervisor Mary Ramos (Wu-Tang: An American Saga), along with composers Este Haim and Christopher Stracey (Cha Cha Real Smooth), used songs that perfectly captured the time, not to mention Megan Stark Evans’ (Pretty Little Liars: Original Sin) wardrobe choices. Crop tanks and baggy pants galore!

Suncoast tells the unique coming-of-age story of a teenage girl trying to live a normal life while being surrounded by death. Laura Linney and Nico Parker deliver strong, nuanced performances as a mother and daughter with a disconnected dynamic, struggling to deal with an impending loss. The film shows how everyone confronts mortality and grieves in their own way, whether it’s humor, anger, or avoidance.

Suncoast premiered in the U.S. Dramatic Competition at the 2024 Sundance Film Festival on January 21. Laura Chinn’s Suncoast will be released in select theaters on February 2nd and will stream exclusively on Disney’s DTC platforms on February 9th as an Original Film on Hulu in the U.S.

We live in a time where established properties are considered a sound investment. This is why, among other things, we’re getting an Avatar: The Last Airbender live action adaptation, we got a One Piece live action adaptation, there’s a second attempt at Percy Jackson and the Olympians currently airing, and why the Hunger Games got a prequel movie. The media making machines likes known values, safe bets, a return on investment that is guaranteed.

Which is why I’m perpetually baffled when yet another year passes without a proper live-action adaptation of K.A. Applegate’s Animorphs. The mid-1990’s that bled over to the earliest of the 2000’s young adult science fiction was one of the most iconic novel series of that era. You couldn’t go to a library or bookstore without seeing the shelves lined with the book, each with a cover of a human transforming into an animal (and well… a couple other transformations here and there, but that’s beside the point). This was one of my first forays into serialized fiction and endeared me to reading alongside its horror anthology counterpart R.L. Stine’s Goosebumps. And as another aside, Goosebumps managed to have a very successful live action modernization just last year, so I’m holding out hope that the trend continues for a long time to come.

The premise, which I know by heart but the IP is nearing three decades, is that after taking a short cut through a construction site, five teenagers find a strange blue centaur-esque alien with a scorpion-esque tail called an Andalite who telepathically communicates that Earth is under threat by the parasitic species Yeerk who will subjugate humanity. Thankfully, the strange blue centaur-esque alien with a scorpion-esque tail also happens to be in possession of a morphing cube which allow those who touch it to acquire the DNA of any animal they touch and be able to transform into the animal. However, there are rules, the most crucial of which is that there is a strict two-hour time limit lest you get stuck in the morph. (Given that this is a book about teenagers, it should be unsurprising that one of the teens gets stuck in the morph relatively early on in the series.) And from there, this randomly assorted group of teenagers now possess an exceeding strong and weird power and are tasked with fighting a covert war against an entire invading species of alien. 

With fifty-four main books and ten additional supplemental stories that fleshed out the rest of the lore, the Animorphs universe is chock full of material. You could very easily get several seasons of television and TV specials and various spin-offs. The sky is very much the limit. K.A. Applegate masterfully wove a story about the horrors of war and got a whole generation of kids thinking about the consequences of actions and what they would do in impossible situations. A strict structure that helped younger readers understood the gravity of the situation; the structure was broken. An ensemble cast that allowed each kid to pick their favorite out of the crew that was diverse from the jump. You had a multi-perspective narrative from very different vantages that saw the group infiltrate office buildings, submarines, and artic bases. You had two mysterious god-like figures playing simulated chess. There’s such a deep lore, a compelling story that continually tried to fully realize its premise, it’s actually staggering that in an eternal arms race to make high profile consumable content that Animorphs doesn’t seem to remotely be in the zeitgeist. But it is there. In the outskirts, just waiting to pounce into prominence.

In 2020, Boom! Studios enlisted Chris Grine to adapt the source material into a graphic novel. And this news was quickly followed that a vague Animorphs movie was in the works. But it’s been almost four years of silence, and I’m gonna stake that Animorphs needs more than a movie or even a trilogy of movies. This is a serial epic. This is a tale of a secret with warring factions, political intrigue, and the potential for some of the coolest uses of CGI this side of the 2000s. Animorphs deserves prestige television funding. It deserves Game of Thrones and The Expanse money. Animorphs deserves to jump start the career of six young actors and catapult older ones back into the line-up. The poignancy of the story hasn’t wavered, and I want a new generation to experience the full story. It was designed with such a format in mind ever since the opening paragraph.

I had the fortune of reading most of the series (64 some books is a lot) and I also have fond memories of watching Nickelodeon’s ultimately doomed attempt to adapt the series in 1998. It was ambitious, and to their credit, it was a solid foundation that was just hampered by 90s technology and having the budget of a teen drama. If you don’t believe me, you can go watch it yourself on YouTube. You’d probably even recognize some younger versions of familiar actors. This is the perfect example of a series that was adapted too soon and deserves to be adapted properly. With the right resources, it could… well morph into one of the greatest sci-fi endeavors of the era.

Jake, Rachel, Marco, Cassie, Tobias, and Ax went through hell and while I wouldn’t call their ending happy, I will call their ending necessary and seminal. I am but a random voice on the internet who still thinks about a YA novel series they read decades ago and wants something that feels increasingly impossible these days: a chance to see a story told from start to finish.

Fifty-four novels is a nontrivial amount of story material and even if HBO-money were to suddenly fall into the lap of the producers, there’s still a decent chance that such an epic could not be told in full. But the dream is nice. The idea is one worth believing in. And if nothing, maybe we can start a book club.

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The post Can Someone Please Get HBO-Money For a Proper ‘Animorphs’ Live Action? appeared first on Black Nerd Problems.

In the last five months, we have been given cinematic gifts that showcase what Black creatives can bring to the film industry. Seeing so much work recognized at once has been inspiring and glorious to witness. From docs and animation to drama and musicals to comedy and action, we have seen timeless work across all genres this year. Sundance brings another gem to the fold with Rob Peace, a heartbreaking yet inspirational and aspirational film based on the best-selling biography by Jeff Hobbs, The Short and Tragic Life of Robert Peace: A Brilliant Young Man Who Left Newark for the Ivy League.

Life is hard. Harder for some than others. Rob Peace is just a glimpse of how hard it can be to change or find your way out of certain circumstances when you’re Black. Written and directed by Chiwetel Ejiofor (The Boy Who Harnessed the Wind, 12 Years a Slave) the film follows the life of Rob Peace (Jay Will), a Black kid from East Orange, New Jersey, who had a passion for science that led him to Yale. But graduating with honors didn’t stop him from being shot and killed at the young age of 30. Excelling at the highest level didn’t stop the institutional and systemic failure that he experienced all his life. Rob Peace also stars Ejiofor, Camila Cabello (Cinderella, 2021), Mary J. Blige (Power Book II: Ghost), Michael Kelly (Tom Clancy’s Jack Ryan), Curt Morlaye (Dickinson), and Benjamin Papac (Greenhouse Academy).

In Nina Simone’s song, “Young, Gifted and Black” there’s a verse that says, “To be young, gifted, and Black, oh, what a lovely, precious dream. To be young, gifted, and Black, open your heart to what I mean.” These words floated around my head while watching Rob Peace. Here was a young, gifted, and Black man who did what he was supposed to while also doing what he had to do. Many will be surprised to learn that even when privileged enough to attend the right school or meet the right people, economic realities can/will/have altered many paths to success. The film does an amazing job of making the point that many BIPOCs can come up against unyielding and tremendously hard barriers that can make it impossible to pursue our passions.

One theme that resonated in Rob Peace was balance. How do you balance commitment to family, community, and yourself when you are battling systemic discrimination across the most important areas of your life (justice, health, housing, education)? When disadvantage has been a prime factor in your life, you want something different for those who come after you. How do you break the intergenerational cycle of disadvantage? Rob was on the right path. But, he also had a responsibility to his family and his community. He just wanted better for everyone.

Lorraine Hansberry, the iconic playwright and activist, once said in the wake of the famous Baldwin-Kennedy meeting of 1963, “[We] are not remotely interested in the old, insulting concept of the ‘exceptional Negro’…What we are interested in is making perfectly clear that between the Negro intelligentsia and the Negro middle class, and the Negro this and that, that we are one people.”

Black people have always had this understanding that when one of us wins, we all win. Rob seemed to fully embrace this idea that community identity is important, a driving force that can create pride, self-respect, unity, a sense of belonging, and social responsibility. Being the first person to go to college, let alone an Ivy League school, brings forth the idea of wanting to lead by example. The idea of, “If I can do it, so can you,” is one theme that we all want to share with our communities.

Julliard-trained Jay Will portrays teen and adult Rob in the film and does an incredible job showing what it means to be authentically yourself in all surroundings. It is refreshing to see, and also very powerful. His portrayal speaks to the pride and love Rob had for himself and where he came from. Will comes off as very charismatic, and although you suspect where things are headed, he makes you still hold out hope that maybe it will be okay. The scenes between Will and Ejiofor, who plays his father, and Mary J. Blige, who plays his mother, all highlight the family dynamics between father and son and mother and son. 

While I could have done without the voiceover in the first third of the film and the unclear passage of time that leads to a gun-toting Rob, what rings true is that Rob Peace is a great, teachable film. Rob had strong aspirations to help his friends, family, and community be the best they could be. In the real world, he continues to motivate and inspire generations. This film is truly a must-watch. You might want to read the biography as well to learn the full story of this amazing young man.

Writer-director Haley Elizabeth Anderson is no stranger to the Sundance Film Festival. In 2020, she participated in the screenwriting intensive and premiered her short film Pillars. This year, she returns to Sundance with her first feature film Tendaberry, an indie drama following 23-year-old Dakota (Kota Johan) as she transitions from the romance of being one-half of a couple to the uncertainty of being alone in New York City.

The film opens with Dakota’s poetic narration playing over old images of Coney Island in its early days, interspersed with footage from the 1980s. Some may recognize the man behind/in front of the camera as Nelson Sullivan, who documented life in NYC, particularly the city’s queer culture. (This inclusion of a real-life cultural figure may seem out of place, but it gives more context to the ever-evolving New York City.)

In the present day, we see Dakota singing on the subway for tips, working her retail job, and spending time with her boyfriend, Yuri (Yuri Pleskun). The young lovers bask in the eerie stillness of an empty Brighton Beach and spend their time kissing and joking around. Other than their voices, the only sounds are heavy winds. This depiction of New York isn’t all hustle and bustle or anything glamorous. It’s a grounded reality that feels slightly ominous while also being a big playground for our characters. 

Other than a few casual friends, co-workers, and acquaintances, Dakota and Yuri are essentially all each other has in the city, establishing how attached and reliant they are on one another. When his father falls ill, he has to return home to Ukraine, leaving Dakota by herself. To make matters even more stressful, she discovers that she’s pregnant, a major inconvenience considering she makes little money and the baby’s father is in another country for an unknown length of time. 

As fall becomes winter, we don’t see any of the NYC holiday magic typically depicted on screen. It’s just Dakota, pregnant and alone in a small Brooklyn apartment with unreliable heat, a place that was once their haven now a constant reminder of his absence. The seasons act as chapters in Tendaberry, showing the passage of time but also where Dakota is at in her life whether it’s changing her hair or the size of her growing belly. Her situation doesn’t suddenly improve with rising temperatures, but she comes alive or is reborn in the summer. Each season has a vibe of its own.

From the beginning, we’re inside Dakota’s head, narrating as if she’s reciting poetry or writing in a diary. Her thoughts seem a little scattered at first and it’s not clear how or if the evolution of Coney Island and the life of Sullivan and his NYC experience connects to her personally. All we know is that this is her story about how she’s unprepared for these life changes, and these unorganized thoughts and memories give insight into her character. She interacts with various people throughout the film, mostly patrons, co-workers, and the occasional friend (who’s also a co-worker). And just like the seasons, people come and go. All of them have a lasting impact on her life and rarely is their lingering presence anywhere near positive. 

With DP Matthew Ballard’s close-ups and handheld cinematography, Tendaberry feels like a photo essay made into moving images that could easily be told without any dialogue between the characters. In some moments, images distort and video quality changes, becoming voyeuristic shots recorded on VHS. If it weren’t for the use of cell phones, video chats, and modern music, this could pass as a film set in the ‘90s. 

Tonally and aesthetically, the film evokes the pensive isolation of Sofia Coppola and the raw intimacy of Larry Clark with a dash of the magical realism/surrealism of Michel Gondry. Anderson’s experiential approach to storytelling and casting mostly emerging actors, everything feels natural like a documentary. 

In 2021, Anderson discussed her passion for documentary-narrative hybrids and casting first-time actors. “It puts the actors on their toes because they know they’re not with a partner that knows what they’re doing,” she told the Sundance Institute. “They’re with a person who is going to react to what they’re giving them in a very real and grounded way.”

Tendaberry is an intimate portrait of loneliness and isolation that is just as dreamy and experimental as it is grounded and narratively focused. Newcomer Kota Johan delivers lyrical monologues with ease while capturing her character’s anxiety and heartache through silence and subtle expressions. Watching the film is like experiencing Dakota’s life alongside her, not as a fly on the wall but as an extension of her character. For indie film fans who love introspection, realism, and music, Tendaberry is a must-see.

Tendaberry premieres on January 21 at the 2024 Sundance Film Festival in the NEXT program lineup.