Imagine pouring your heart into a film, only to have it overshadowed before anyone even gets a chance to see it. That's the harsh reality facing "Carousel," a new drama starring Chris Pine and Jenny Slate, which debuted at this year's Sundance Film Festival. The festival itself is grappling with the weight of its founder Robert Redford's absence and its relocation from its beloved Park City home, threatening to drown out the buzz around even the most promising premieres. It's a tough break for a movie that, on paper, embodies the very spirit of Sundance.
"Carousel" is the kind of character-driven American indie film that has been a staple of Sundance for nearly half a century. These films often explore nuanced human relationships and intimate stories. But here's where it gets controversial... In today's film landscape, dominated by big-budget blockbusters and streaming giants, these smaller, more personal films often struggle to find an audience beyond the festival circuit. Remember "A Little Prayer" from Sundance 2023? It was a quiet, affecting film that perfectly captured the Sundance vibe, yet it barely made a ripple upon its eventual release. The world isn't particularly kind to films like "Carousel" right now, and while many would love to see this genre thrive as it did in the 90s and 00s, it's difficult to feel strongly optimistic.
And this is the part most people miss: the film's central theme – the intoxicating and overwhelming nature of love, both lost and found – demands a strong emotional core. Writer-director Rachel Lambert clearly aims to create an enchanting experience, filling the film with evocative music (although the sound mixing occasionally overwhelms) and beautifully shot scenes of nature. To some extent, her efforts pay off. Her previous film, "Sometimes I Think About Dying," also showcased a similar sensory appeal, both films capturing the allure of a peaceful, small-town setting. But there's only so much that direction alone can achieve. Despite her attempts to draw us into the story through visual and auditory cues, the script, unfortunately, feels erratic and underdeveloped, ultimately failing to command the attention it seeks.
The actors do their best to breathe life into their roles, suggesting deeper layers beneath the surface. Chris Pine, who seems to be exploring new territory in smaller, character-focused projects, delivers a convincing performance as an emotionally reserved doctor navigating his 40s. His character's daughter (played by Abby Ryder Fortson) struggles with anger and anxiety, his medical practice (featuring underutilized talents like Sam Waterston and Heléne Yorke) faces financial difficulties, and then there's the unexpected return of a former love (Jenny Slate), who may or may not hold the key to his missing happiness. It's a classic Sundance setup, which isn't inherently a bad thing. But Lambert's reluctance to delve deeper into her characters' lives leaves us with fleeting, often frustratingly superficial moments. She seems to confuse underwritten with subtle, and as the initial impact of her directorial skills fades, we're left with a script populated by characters we don't truly know or care about. There's a well-executed, tense argument between the main characters in the final act, but we observe it as detachedly as if we were eavesdropping on a couple in a restaurant, captivated by the intensity of their emotions (the performances are excellent) but genuinely unsure of what they're actually arguing about. It feels like a condensed miniseries, with key scenes and character development cut for time. While Pine and Slate demonstrate undeniable chemistry, enough to fuel a much stronger film, we're left wondering who exactly we're watching.
It falls on the audience to fill in the blanks, but it becomes increasingly difficult to muster the energy as a sense of apathy seeps from the screen. Lambert touches upon interesting themes, such as the complexities of parenting someone else's child and the challenges of navigating romance as a mature adult, but she fails to find a satisfying emotional resolution. The overly sentimental romantic ending ultimately leaves us unmoved. Like many forgettable Sundance films, "Carousel" spins its wheels but ultimately goes nowhere.
So, what do you think? Is it fair to judge a film based on its potential distribution challenges? Does the director's visual style compensate for the script's shortcomings? And most importantly, do you believe that smaller, character-driven films still have a place in today's Hollywood landscape? Share your thoughts in the comments below!
