Sundance Film Festival Review: Sunfish (& Other Stories From Green Lake

Sunfish (& Other Stories on Green Lake) offers a sensory pleasure one can usually only experience in a serene, lakeside community. Or, say, in a dark theatre). Beech, red maple, and American birch trees whisper to each other as the wind flutters their leaves. Someone has kindly turned up the volume by a few decibels so you can hear nothing but rustles in surround sound.

You can catch the unmistakable creaks of a dated yet sturdy wooden cabin and a stadium crowd of crickets chirping in the shrubs. Spending the day reading a book in an Adirondack chair as a family of loon ducks glide along the water sounds like fun. For the characters of Sunfish, this is only part of their reality. Dive below the waterline, and the ducks are paddling fiercely.

Sunfish is an anthology drama with four chapters: the titular story ‘Sunfish’, ‘Summer Camp’, ‘Two Hearted’ and ‘Resident Bird’. The former follows lost teenager Lu, played by the up-and-coming Maren Heary. She is abandoned by her recently married flaky mother at Nan and Pop’s lakehouse. There, she takes an interest in Pop’s sailing dinghy. ‘Summer Camp’ centres on Jun (Jim Kaplan), a virtuosic violin player pressured to succeed at a gifted music program by his overbearing mum. 

‘Two Hearted’ is the most fantastical of the four stories. Annie and Finn (Karsen Liotta and Dominic Bogart respectively) are an unlikely pair. Determined to catch a big fish of mythical proportions by any means to escape their undesirable realities. Finally, ‘Resident Bird’ is a tale of two sisters (Emily Hall as Robin and Tenley Kellogg as Blue) who cater to guests staying in their dad’s vacation rental. One of the sister’s imminent departure for culinary school looms over the other staying in the nest.

Viewers who stay in the shallow water of Sunfish (& Other Stories on Green Lake) might say it evokes a quintessentially lazy summer by a lakeshore in northern Michigan, but not much more. It’s where writer and director Sierra Falconer grew up. And the place she chose to set her debut ‘loosely autobiographical’ drama. 

Of course, telling stories from childhood is often a logistical move for first-time filmmakers, as well as cathartic. Sunfish was a thesis film for Falconer completing her master’s at UCLA. Her grandparents’ cabin was the main filming location and hub for the crew. Which would help the budget as well as provide verisimilitude. With three of the four stories focusing on teenage characters, naturally, Sunfish feels nostalgic.

But the entire film also has a timeless quality. There are no mobile phones, and the cars are from a previous era. Yet the contents of the local supermarket are modern and the fashions are ambiguous. I say the ‘entire’ film because Falconer managed to keep the hazy, last-days-of-summer tone consistent across all four chapters. Despite the variations in genre. Every episode is distinct but they flow seamlessly into the next just like the calm, freshwater lake they surround. Small-town gossip gets around the characters just as easily, too.

It’s undeniable that a sense of place connects every story. Each one (whether the characters are arriving, staying, wanting to leave, or leaving) is cleansed or rescued by what the lake provides. Green Lake is more than a beautiful location, it’s an opportunity, an axis on which everything else spins.

Of course, it’s difficult to watch an anthology film – as tricky as they can be to execute, and however successful Sunfish is as one – without comparing the chapters. Viewers might be compelled towards ‘Sunfish’, Lu and her endlessly endearing grandparents. Who wouldn’t want to be wrapped in the warm embrace of a grandmother who cooks delicious comfort food and reads Agatha Christie books and a patient grandfather who will teach you how to sail?

Similarly, quiet Jun’s longing to be both successful in his pursuits, and embraced by his peers in ‘Summer Camp’, is painfully relatable to anyone who has been a teenager. Sunfish ends on a high note with ‘Resident Bird’ with a mildly melancholic end-of-summer vibe. The performance from younger sister Blue, in particular, is touching and skilful.

It’s the adult-centred ‘Two Hearted’ that doesn’t let the movie down as much as it doesn’t live up to the other tales. Annie is a young mother desperate to leave small-town life for any kind of excitement, while Finn is dying and determined to leave a legacy. It doesn’t have the rose-tinted glasses of youth that the other chapters have. However, it being the third chapter does lift the entire movie with rousing drama that it may have fallen flat without.

Sunfish doesn’t reinvent the sailboat with its score and cinematography. It lets the natural beauty of Green Lake and the warm summer light provide the postcard-perfect backdrop. The simple piano and acoustic guitar score, with the odd indie folk tune thrown into the soundtrack, is all that’s required.

Having mined her childhood memories and hometown for her debut, it will be interesting to see what inspiration Falconer has for her sophomore effort. Nevertheless, there will be one. While Sunfish may not blow minds out of the water, it’s a wholesome and genuine story told by a genuine talent.