Poppy Gordon

This hypnotic work of contemporary cinematic modernism—something like Robert Bresson in Park Slope, but not exactly—concerns a young man apartment-sitting for friends as talk of a plane crash ominously lingers in the air.

Determined to party at Sundance, three entitled young women meet up at an LA member's only club to make a selection-worthy short film. In an unholy fusion of wokeness and cluelessness, they build a narrative from atop the high perch of their privilege. And piece-by-piece, they almost give a voice to the voiceless—without having any idea what they're talking about. But they are positioned to make it happen.

A movie star and an intimacy coordinator go head-to-head when the star goes method and crosses the line during a sex scene, while the rest of the cast and crew await word of their fate.