New Hampshire Film Festival 2025 Wrap-Up

My time at my favorite film festival was somewhat different this year, partially due to their scheduling, and partially due to my own choices.

While my previous three years attending NHFF has always included its share of buzzy titles and works from big name filmmakers, part of what I always loved about it was the chance for discovery. As much as possible, I prioritize movies that are unlikely to get a proper release, and may not get distributed at all. NHFF has always been conducive to that, largely showcasing the bigger titles as their "feature night presentations", and providing a good array of super indie movies outside of that.

This year, I barely saw any movies that weren't notable in some way. A bunch of the buzziest Cannes titles (including the Palme d'Or winner), indie movies starring big name actors, and huge new releases dropping in a few weeks. Even on Thursday, designated as "NH day", the only features available until the evening were foreign films. The NH night feature was Linklater's newest, whose connection to the state I'm unclear on. And NHFF's first ever midnight movie was from a filmmaker who got a bunch of notoriety a few years ago as part of a class of rising trans filmmakers.

However, the fest feels at odds with itself. Because if they were trying to draw greater attendance through these titles, you'd expect them to show multiple times, and get the prime slots. Nope! Each recognizable film only showed once. Some at truly odd times: why would you play the Palme d'Or winner on Friday morning? I'm sure the scheduling makes sense with their goals, but as I'm not privy to those conversations, all I can do is comment on the experience. Which was odd.

Of course, as many of those titles are ones I've been anticipating, it meant my own scheduling was altered. I didn't catch a single block of short films all weekend, which is a shame, as I've seen some truly outstanding ones there in the past (maybe if their blocks were thematically linked...). Additionally, I only caught two documentaries, the fewest I've seen since my first year, when I watched half as many feature-length films. As such, the below list is shorter than normal, and only includes a single American indie film, but even that's from a director who's far from obscure (although more of a cult favorite than big name).

This doesn't change that NHFF is my favorite of the (admittedly few) festivals I've attended. I love Portsmouth, and their organization is consistently fantastic. Sure, the venues are a bit cobbled together, but you can easily walk between them to make your next screening, and get to experience the wonderful New England autumn in the mean time. Most of the time, you don't have to worry about space, and the people are great.

I can't quite say "Never change" this year, but I do still love it.

Sound of Falling

Mascha Schilinski's second feature (and first in eight years) takes on the monumental task of stitching its story across the decades, centered around the lives of women of a single family living in the same place but isolated by time. Branches may have come and gone, but the place (and the people) are still recognizably and inseparably connected. Their blood ties may be only hinted at, but they're strengthened by the bonds of their experiences, different yet the same, always searching for who they are in a world that at best regards their happiness and desires as uncouth. Schilinski and cinematographer Fabian Gamper often shoot through keyholes and doors left barely ajar and other restrictive avenues to heighten the feeling that even their existence is somehow taboo. To say nothing of the ghostly, ethereal way the voice over from various characters emphasizes their station apart from the world they inhabit.

Sound of Falling is a poetic masterpiece, a beautiful tapestry of sound design and creative camerawork and unorthodox, nuanced characters charting a path through a world hostile to them through its banality. It is tragic, it is visceral, it is powerful.

US Release Status: Acquired; release TBA

Sirāt

Sirāt is like nothing I've ever seen. After watching some humongous speakers being set up, we're thrust into the middle of a desert rave, a celebration of music as spiritualism, a force to which you give yourself over in the presence of others, a vehicle by which to express the wide range of human emotion. The sound design and score are astounding, completing the illusion.

It's only slightly undercut by Luis and his son (Sergi López and Bruno Núñez) searching for his daughter, forming the narrative backbone of the story to come. But thematically, it's driven by the onset of war. Regional, civil, world, we cannot say. What we do know is that when the military shows up to forcibly evacuate them, a few ravers make a break for it with Luis in tow, beginning a days long trek across unforgiving (and gorgeous) territory on their way to the next rave. Their sole focus is living their best lives and helping others do the same, with music as their conduit for exuberance.

Thus, the story becomes one of co-existence with destruction, and the insistence of the outside world on encroaching upon a life well lived.

US Release Status: Nov 14, 2025 (extremely limited); wide release in January 2026.

By Design

The conceit of By Design is perfectly in line with the type of brightly lit, surreal comedy that Amanda Kramer has become known for. Imagine a woman (Juliette Lewis) whose only social contacts are people so self-absorbed that they might as well be talking to a chair. And imagine a man (Mamoudou Athie) so desperate to fall in love, so burnt by his relationships with people, that he's ready to lavish his affections upon an inanimate object. Not in a sexual way, but not not in a sexual way. Add in a narrator (Melanie Griffith), someone telling us this story and thus giving voice to everything that Camile cannot say, either as a woman or as a chair, and you've got a fairy tale about the lengths we go to be loved, and how our world's preoccupation with Things has made it easy to confuse obsession with adoration.

Its style of humor will not be for everyone. It may not even be for most people. But to me, it is the perfect balance of dry, earnest wit, with observations and assertions about the modern world. And is easily amongst the best comedies of the year.

US Release Status: Acquired for an early 2026 release.

It Was Just An Accident

My experience with It Was Just An Accident was odd. As the newest film from one of my favorite directors, I've been looking forward to it for a long time. It would seem the rest of the world was, too, as Jafar Panahi took home the Palme d'Or back in May. I avoided knowing anything else going into the film, as his name was all I needed to know I was interested.

So it's weird to call it both an excellent film, and a disappointment.

It's hilarious in both big and subtle ways, and the plot is well executed. Its critiques of Iranian society and the government get more and more explicit as the film progresses. It utilizes his favorite shots, most notably long takes in which the camera moves very little and not a ton happens on screen, but which speak volumes regardless. The final two scenes are perfect, one a thirteen minute take that will have you on the edge of your seat (and is one of the best of the year), and the other wrapping up the narrative threads through implications that carry so many layers of meaning.

But the moral quandary at the center of its story is pretty straightforward and not explored in much depth. It covers territory well-trodden by so much other media, especially in a time which sees increasing authoritarianism worldwide. The result is that it feels slight, despite the sharpness of its satire and the excellent performances.

Still, it's a great film and worthy of your time, even as it fails to top my ranking of his work.

US Release Status: Currently in extremely limited release; no wide release announced.

Honorable Mentions: Urchin; OBEX; After this Death; Our Hero, Balthazar

If you want my thoughts on all 22 features I watched, check out my Letterboxd.