Sundance 2007: The films to watch out for

Following up on last year's prize for Quinceanera (Echo Park, LA), two Hispanic-flavoured films triumphed in Sundance this year: in the Dramatic Competition Christopher Zalla's Padre Nuestro is a riveting thriller about an illegal immigrant making his way to New York to meet his father for the first time - but whose identity is stolen by a fellow traveler on the journey. Zalla described it simply as a story about Americans, but it couldn't be more timely, what with George Bush planning to build a wall to cut the US off from Mexico.

That fortress mentality doesn't stop at Tijuana. In Manda Bala (Send a Bullet) , which won the Grand Jury Prize for Documentary, Jason Kohn shows how the grotesque social inequalities in Brazil have turned capital Sao Paulo into the kidnapping capital of the world. (There are 80 police officers in the kidnapping division, and it's still not enough.)

Kohn traces some strange off-shoots: the booming business in bullet-proof cars, for instance, isn't enough to safeguard the wealthy elite, so the city also boasts the world's largest private helicopter fleet (there are no car-jackings on top of skyscrapers). He also interviews a plastic surgeon who has revolutionized ear reconstruction surgery - see, he's had plenty of practice, as kidnappers have taken to chopping off the lobe to encourage family members to stump up the ransom. The film's defining metaphor is a frog-farm, a symbol of massive political corruption, and the image of one frog devouring another: they will only turn to cannibalism when they don't get enough food, the farmer assures us.

For my money the juries were right on both counts, though Manda Bala is the real stand out, because the standard across the documentary section remains much higher than in the dramas. Other documentaries you should look out for, either on the big screen or small, include My Kid Could Paint That, a fascinating film about a four year old artist prodigy (or is she?); Julian Temple's affectionate Joe Strummer: The Future is Unwritten; In the Shadow of the Moon (about man and space); and Zoo, a poetic, meditative film about a group of men who assembled regularly for beer, talk, and sex with horses - until a fatality brought them out into the pubic gaze.

The dramas seemed mostly banal in comparison, though perhaps spurred by the Oscar nominations for Little Miss Sunshine and Half Nelson, buyers were quick to get out their cheque-books. Ironically, the most hyped title pre-fest turned out to be the biggest flop, and at the time of writing Hounddog still awaits a sale. It's not that the infamous rape scene involving 12-year-old Dakota Fanning is particularly offensive, but the movie sinks into a swamp of putrid southern atmospherics topped off with the silly message that even a little white girl can sing the blues if she's suffered enough. (Christina Ricci learns much the same lesson as a nymphomaniac put straight by Samuel L Jackson's righteous vegetable farmer in Craig Brewer's Black Snake Moan, a vacuous parable masquerading as an old time exploitation movie.)

In classic Sundance style, Harvey Weinstein showed up on the doorstep of one producer shortly after midnight, and declared he wouldn't be leaving the condo until Grace is Gone was his. Five hours later he was still there, even as the poor filmmaker huddled in the bathroom on the phone with a rival, pretending to speak to her husband. "I'm having pregnancy issues," she lied, as Harvey banged on the door. Needless to say, Weinstein got his way in the end.

(The film, which won an Audience Award, features a mannered performance from John Cusack as an Iraq war widower, taking his two young daughters on a sentimental road-trip to 'Enchanted Gardens' before he tells them about their momma.)

Clubland was another big sale. How you react to this Aussie drama will depend on your Brenda Blethyn tolerance levels. She's very much the star of the show as Jean, a bawdy club comic who clings to her captive audience - her two teenage sons - even as the eldest loses his cherry to a needy blonde (Emma Booth). I wasn't clear whether Jean's routines are supposed to as mirthless as they are, but Cherie Nowlan's tearjerker improves as Jean loses the plot and rips her family apart.

An even more dysfunctional family implodes in Joshua, a creepy horror flick starring Sam Rockwell and Vera Farmiga, whose blank-faced ten-year-old takes to terrorizing his new baby brother. It's an unpleasant piece of work, but I could see it clicking at the box-office.

Much more interesting, The Nines is the first film directed by screenwriter John August, who has Big Fish, Charlie's Angels and Go to his credit. A brain teaser in three parts, this has Ryan Reynolds playing (a) a movie star under house arrest after a drug episode (b) a TV show producer who is being followed around by a reality TV crew and (c) a video game designer who is also the main character in (b)'s show. Even if the movie doesn't all click, this was one of the most arresting and adventurous efforts in the festival.

Still, if I had to choose just one movie to take away with me, it would be Son of Rambow, by the UK's video whizzkids Hammer & Tongs (also responsible for the big screen Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy). Set in the early 80s, this delightful comedy applies modest cinematic means to create a hyper-real slapstick world as perceived by ten-year-old Will. His sheltered life in the Plymouth Brethren is rocked by exposure to Lee Carter, a 'Just William' type who not only shows him his first ever film (First Blood), but soon has him signed up as stunt man/star of his own epic home movie. In a festival dominated by earnest documentaries and miserable dramas, the inventive, wildly funny Son of Rambow is a blissful reminder that movies can be fun too.

Tom Charity
tom.charity@lovefilm.com