Pianoforte (2023 |  Poland | 89 min. |  Jakub Piątek)

With only a handful of concise title slides, documentarian Jakub Piątek drops his audience into the 2021 International Chopin Piano Competition and lets the competitors tell the story through their work across the month-long multi-stage event held every five years in Warsaw. With the backstage feeling of Spellbound or Boys State, the team could choose only a handful of the 87 young pianists in competition before knowing the winner, giving the film the intensity of a reality competition as they rehearse, perform, and await the results. The individuals they profiled make for a diverse array of characters: Eva, a serious young Russian with a long perfect ponytail whose coach scolds her for being asleep at the keys; precocious Hao from China’s adoring tutor never made it to the big show, willowy Polish Marcin’s hometown appeal extends to trying to look like Chopin to curry favor with the jury, and a trio of Italians who take turns being the most telegenic and giving the best quotes to the camera crew. Scruffy philosopher king Alexander Gadjiev muses “we created an evil that we have to fight ourselves” between meditative stretching exercises; Michelle vacillates from early retirement to elation to self-awareness, saying “I don’t believe in unicorns” while awaiting the next round of results. Behind-the-scenes candor endears us to the competitors, and we root for our favorites as the grueling celebration of Chopin’s music thins the field to a dozen finalists. When, after weeks of competition, they’re all briefly in the same room to await the announcement of the winners there’s an electricity and sudden affinity as they gather at the finish line. Like those in the audience moved to tears by the performances, the documentary stirs the emotions of viewers with its light touch, incisive editing, and generally letting these prodigies shine.

Pianoforte screened at the Seattle International Film Festival; it’s an HBOmax co-production so it should see a release on screens later this year.

A Disturbance in the Force (2023 |  USA | 86 min. |  Jeremy Coon, Steve Kozak)

Widely panned, disowned by George Lucas, and aggressively avoided by the cast who were contractually obligated to participate in its production, the Star Wars Holiday Special is nevertheless is an exclusive object of fascination and cred currency among die-hard Star Wars fans. Having aired only once in November 1978, it featured an extended sequence of wordless Wookie homelife, a psychedelic Boba Fett cartoon, Carrie Fisher singing the Life Day ballad, Bea Arthur as a giant rat-loving cantina operator, and a frequently drunk Art Carney as translator. Co-director Jeremy Coon previously made Raiders!: The Story of the Greatest Fan Film Ever Made, itself perhaps the greatest tribute to childhood cinephilia ever made, so it’s no surprise that this documentary acknowledges the disaster without dunking on it. Instead, it casts the two hour production for what it was: a variety special in an era of very cheesy variety hours, produced by Theater People with minimal involvement from increasingly indifferent Lucasfilm principals, made to keep a new franchise in the collective consciousness and to sell toys to kids. It’s a strange artifact of its time, a relic from a protean era where things like “mythology” and “canon” weren’t fiendishly regulated by the owners of highly valuable intellectual property. They say that stories of failure are more fascinating than those of success, but in assembling as many participants involved with the making of the special and giving them time to explain themselves, the documentary skews more toward redemption for their hard work than having a laugh at the bizarre thing they created. Regardless, it’ll likely be a useful resource for anyone who stumbles across a bootleg and wonders “what in the hell was that and how did it happen”.

A Disturbance in the Force screened at the Seattle International Film Festival; keep an eye on its website for news on distribution and other festival presentations.