CLUB KID (Jordan Firstman) — North American Premiere

Jordan Firstman draws from a deep well of empathy and whipsmart humor to spin a fairy tale of New York about how quickly a gold star gay can grow-up when a unicorn of a long-lost son with great music taste and teflon trauma shielding drops into his rent-controlled apartment. Immersing the audience into the the stroboscopic 2010s queer scene with a bevy of actors and performers who were (and remain) a part of it, devouring artfully arranged platters of cocaine (and other party favors), engaging in hazy darkroom encounters, and rolling on until the first light of morning. In his debut feature as writer/director, Firstman displays a deft command of tone and visual appeal, balancing the hard-partying appeal of a club promoter and the ensuing wake-up call of rapidly impending real life. As a performer, he’s a magnetic center whose wearily pivots when a ten year old kid (an absolutely delightful Reggie Absolom) is unexpectedly dropped into his life. Their dynamic is so magical that the harsher realities of the unlikely scenario are temporarily held at bay. Funny and tender, it’s a heart thumping knockout.

THE DEBUT (Jesse Eisenberg) — World Premiere

If I had a nickel for every time Telluride world premiered a movie about a stage actor destroying their life for a role … well, I’d have myself another nickel today.

As a suburban housewife on the sudden precipice of irrelevance who auditions for a community theater role on a lark, Julianne Moore truly drags herself through the shit and comes through on the other side in this truly batty crowd-pleasing musical comedy. Paul Giamatti plays a familiar curmudgeon as the rigorously demanding director who puts a cast of real world off-broadway regulars into a very silly original production about life in the Big City (written with obvious love for the genre by Eisenberg). Moore’s introduction to the arts scene feels instantly uncanny and gets stranger and stranger with each passing day of her grueling education as an actor. It’s a gonzo performance for the ages that’s so violently alive that it pierces the absurd mask while revealing a stirring catharsis.

ROSE (Markus Schleinzer) — North American Premiere

Supremely austere black and white filmmaking opens with the bone-littered earth ablaze and village inheritance customs around a bonfire. Narrated as a folktale of wicked deception, the quietly-gripping pastoral procedural follows a 17th century German woman living as a man after having been maimed while serving as a soldier in the the Thirty Years War. It’s a compelling deception, complete with bear killing heroism and unlikely consummation of marital duties. As the unsuspecting wife, Caro Braun impressively holds her own. Eventually, the initially chilly depiction erupts into a provocative performance from Sandra Hüller that challenges the boundaries of identity and self-determination.

A thought-proviking and sobering piece of cinema.