The Santa Barbara International Film Festival continues to prove its penchant for interesting lineups with a 2025 that includes Aontas, Fine Young Men, Magic Hour, My Dead Friend Zoe, and Spider & Jessie. Check out our full coverage after the jump.
Films
AONTAS
(Written by Intern, Alecia Wilk) Aontas is a spring-loaded story that raises the bar on the caper genre. Functioning also as a character drama, Director Damien McCann constructs the community’s kinsfolk as meticulously as he does the robbery. In a close look at an economically declining sliver of rural Ireland, Aontas expresses that it truly takes a village to rob a bank. Beginning in the steaming aftermath of the heist, the camera weaves between rubbernecks and over cobblestone, capturing townies’ chatter as they, too, try to put together the pieces of what took place. Mairéad (Carrie Crowley) is introduced as the failing mastermind of the theft plot, joined by her ornery sister, Cáit (Brid Brennan), and the beautiful but faint-hearted Sheila (Eva-Jane Gaffney). Everything at first seems to be going horribly, comically wrong, one step at a time. In a scene which feels like an eternity, McCann aces a unique cocktail of thriller and comedy as each thief’s missteps amounts to cataclysm. Dread is suspended through several breaks in action as the narrative is chopped up and paced vigorously backwards. The non-linear structure forces attention on conversational jab and drop of bad blood in an attempt to make sense of the madness. Friction is ever-present between characters. There is scarcely an interaction where tensions are not simmering or teeth do not grit. With each new piece of context revealed, the robbery is rewritten. Until slowly, the bank is revisited with the three women standing united and justified in their plan to steal from the town’s savings. In overlaying interpersonal drama atop a fiscal crisis, systemic issues become perfectly personified within the population of the tiny community. Loss and vengeance inspire Mairéad to backtrack on all of her moral standings and take action to mend her home from its convoluted financial downturn. Damien McCann rejects order in ethics and cinematic structure to craft a criminal scenario of sentimental value. Pumping a once-quaint place with adrenaline, this tale of togetherness satisfyingly demonstrates the title’s double meaning.
CARISSA
(Written by Intern, Miranda Zampogna) Carissa flourishes in breathtaking visuals of South Africa’s picturesque rural landscapes sowing a vibrant tableau of its indigenous community. However, to unearth thought-provoking meditations of nature’s harmony and rediscovering one’s roots an audience must shift through its oblique concept. In the titular role, Gretchen Ramsden, along with co-directors Jason Jacobs and Devon Delmar, portrays a listless young woman navigating the challenges her impoverished community faces when a wealthy golfing corporation encroaches upon their land. Carissa fantasizes about partying in the city, but unexpectedly finds herself tilling her estranged grandfather’s mountainous farmland where she encounters her true purpose. Struggling to match the strength of its cinematics, the plot meanders, especially in the early scenes depicting her daily routine. Several random character introductions, abandoned threads, and unsought arcs fail to reach a natural culmination. Moreover, Carissa’s decision to leave for the city on a year-long work program run by the opposing golfing estate falls to the waste side, underdeveloping the central conflict. Clunky long takes, a jarring dream sequence, and bizarre hyper fixations on outhouse procedures add nothing to the plot nor further illuminate character. Nevertheless, the stunning camerawork in 4:3 aspect ratio piques interest and aids emotional resonance. Gray Kotzé’s cinematography emphasizes natural light, golden hour hues, and starry night skies creating striking compositions. In addition, the slowly fading match-cut transition of Carissa and her grandfather’s lying bodies to mountains evokes their deeper connection with nature. As Carissa gets the hang of using the sickle to harvest rooibos shrubs, gushes of wind become a powerful motif that signals the shift in her journey toward upholding valuable traditions. A particularly haunting sequence between Carissa and her grandfather in a cave surrounded by her ancestor’s pictographs poignantly discusses themes of generational trauma and his vulnerable dream of passing down his property to the next generation. Despite its narrative shortcomings and inconsistencies, Carissa ultimately offers moments of genuine beauty and insight relevant to universal issues of modernization that challenge honored heritages.
FINE YOUNG MEN
Full review at the link.
MAGIC HOUR
(Written by Intern, Miranda Zampogna) Magic Hour offers a heartfelt, if somewhat predictable, fool-triumphant story that reminds us it is never too late for second chances. Harriet (Miriam Shor) is a middle-aged woman whose life unravels just as her eldest daughter, Emma, leaves for college and her husband asks for a divorce. Still, an invitation to a filmmakers’ gala revitalizes her long-abandoned aspirations of becoming a director. Despite a cliché initial setup, Shor’s loveable portrayal refreshes well-worn tropes. Fraught with familiar obstacles, from financial woes to the skepticism of her family, a patronizing director of photography, and the competitive environment of film school, occasionally absurdist humor adds nuance. Scenes regarding Harriet’s pratfalls, like her zany attempts to keep her moviemaking secret from Emma and an oddball date involving greasepaint, are particularly memorable. Dialogue, while often on-the-nose and prone to exaggerated calamity for comedic effect, contributes to an overall lighthearted tone. Also masterfully utilized is a unique recurring visual motif of storyboards transposed on ferry boat windows as Harriet imagines the movie she wants to make. A blue color palette shifts toward warm, bright tones to symbolize her upward emotional journey that comes full circle, where the opening image of an empty theatre fills with her family and collaborators. While some plot points are convenient and lack originality, Harriet’s second coming of age is both relatable and inspiring. Although Magic Hour occasionally stumbles with its reliance on common conventions, writer/director Jacqueline Christy projects a feel-good comedy about the power of pursuing one’s dreams, regardless of age or circumstance.
MISTRESS DISPELLER
(Written by Intern, Alecia Wilk) Elizabeth Lo’s Mistress Dispeller joins forces with Wang Zhenxi, of the titular profession, in entering a marriage to remove its third party. In a salon, under the enraged hum of a blow dryer, a housewife has her hair styled as a single tear traces down her cheek. Already somber, this introduction to Mrs. Li sets the tone of Lo’s documentary. Observed through gorgeous cinematography down to the title card, she captures the emotional weight of a union whose harmony has gone dissonant. Framed with such care that even silence becomes palpable, Mistress Dispeller’s treatment of the drama of an affair is unlike anything else. Mrs. Li seeks out the professional Wang Zhenxi to break up the affair she suspects Mr. Li has been pursuing. To foreigners, this industry in China may seem a juvenile premise. Wang is hired to enter the Lis’ lives like a spy, personally connecting to every member of the love triangle to restore the relationship back to order. Yet Lo and Wang blend their respective crafts with equal intentionality, capturing just how sacred their duties to the clients are. Deliberately collected and selected footage makes the particular lifeforce of the Li’s relationship tangible and translates the stakes of matrimony in China to an international audience. Love is expressed as a precarious thing, helping to build an understanding of the prevalence of infidelity and relationship anxiety within Chinese culture. Social and private spheres are expertly observed, producing a mood that is truly hopeless and romantic. All the while, Wang’s services penetrate further into the entanglement with an unbelievable capacity for sincerity. Balanced scenes of tension and tenderness develop a case study that is compassionate to everyone involved. Unarming each heart, even the mistress Fei Fei comes to confide in Wang. Dedicated work on the part of both the director and the dispeller afford an outlook on love with multiplicity, delivering a vulnerable profile of a marriage with the power to make everyone a more pensive romantic.
MY DEAD FRIEND ZOE
While serving in the military in 2016 Afghanistan, Merit (Sonequa Martin-Green, The Walking Dead, Space Jam: A New Legacy) and best friend Zoe (Natalie Morales, Santa Clarita Diet, Going the Distance) grew closer despite an apparent tragedy looming over them. In present day, the duo are still inseparable, with one major caveat: Zoe has died, and appears to Merit as a kind of spiritual guide. This unique, funky little movie from writer/director Kyle Hausmann-Stokes has a lot going on, expanded from a sixteen-minute short by seemingly adding the kitchen sink to its simple storyline. In addition to coming to terms with her trauma by attending VA group counseling sessions, Merit also grapples with her grandfather’s condition deep in the throes of dementia. There are multiple angles here that seem positioned for maximum tearjerker capabilities. Certainly, a few effective moments are housed within that speak to the tragic nature of the true story by which My Dead Friend Zoe has been inspired. Yet, a missing piece of the larger whole seems to overextend the story well past its limits. Both Martin-Green and Morales are great, but did we really need a romantic love interest, a deteriorating grandparent, a caring VA counselor, a worried mother, and flashbacks to underline Zoe and Merit’s relationship? Not even a larger theme that emerges as a major crux to the story feels as vital as it should. With some editing, this could be a genuinely great film; instead, My Dead Friend Zoe remains overstuffed with occasion glimmers of brightness.
OLIVIA & THE CLOUDS
Surreal animated films such as The Last Unicorn, Little Nemo: Adventures in Slumberland, and even the recent Sirocco and the Kingdom of the Winds are very much my cup of tea. Whereas some people view animation as being nothing more than a children’s medium, I have always found comfort in its colorful delights. Enter: Olivia & The Clouds, a stunningly-realized feature debut from acclaimed animator Tomás Pichardo-Espaillat. Every frame of this movie is a piece of art of its own accord, containing ever-shifting imagery and a fluid style spilling over with hidden meanings. At times it resembles a living painting, or a dynamic comic strip; the use of different textures provides a hypnotic quality only complemented by a blending of styles. The experimentation captivates, yet the muchness cannot overcome a narrative emptiness. For my personal tastes, Olivia & The Clouds remains far too abstract to leave a mark. As a work of visual poetry, maybe it works; as an actual movie, the ambiguous nature and minimalistic dialogue are beyond frustrating.
SPIDER & JESSIE
Full review at the link.
TO KILL A WOLF
After discovering a troubled woman named Dani (Maddison Brown) deep within the woods, The Woodsman (Ivan Martin) takes her under his wing. He urges her to leave and find safety, but Dani has no desire to return back home. An abusive dynamic slowly takes shape in the past as we learn about Dani’s life, whilst the ostracized Woodsman attempts to return to normalcy living on the fringes of society. Under the guise of being a thought-provoking subversion of a familiar story, To Kill a Wolf ultimately fails to reimagine Red Riding Hood in a compelling or significant way. Gone is any sense of whimsy or fun. There are larger themes merely glimpsed, failing to give a significant confrontation to character trauma or meaningfully explore those themes. This indie feels entirely half-baked: a slog with minimal payoff that is more of a midnight snack rather than a meaningful feast to chew on. A connection to that mythos remains superficial at best—with obvious metaphors and the lack of a narrative payoff, To Kill a Wolf underwhelms.
For ticketing and more information about the festival, head over to SBIFF’s official website.