A 2024 Wisconsin Film Festival preview in full bloom

Nine of our writers offer their picks and advice on the annual cinematic rite of spring that runs between April 4 and 11.

The Wisconsin Film Festival usually arrives with fresh signs of spring—although, this year, the Midwest season felt uncomfortably shifted to mid-late February in our present climate catastrophe. Nonetheless, the festival itself is seeing its own sort of renewal. For its 2024 edition, running April 4 through 11, it moves away from the now-defunct six-screen cinema out at the Hilldale Mall to more venues on the east side. It’s returning to the Bartell Theatre right off the Capitol Square for the first time in more than a decade, and the Barrymore for the first time since 2017. The fest is projecting at UW Music Hall (925 Bascom Mall) for the first-time ever, and finding a weekday home base (Monday through Thursday) at Flix Brewhouse for the very first time as well.

In the festival’s print guide, Graphic Designer Christina King has traded last year’s celebratory decadence in terms of balloons, cherries, and a lavish layer cake for a more streamlined look with simple black lines highlighted and shaded by a forest green, sun yellow, and vermilion palette on the cover and on potential button designs teased on pages 22 and 23. King’s also sketched out a question mark for the festival’s second annual attempt at a mystery sneak screening. This design features a pretty, flowing floral pattern of lily white and light sky blue, to once again complement the sprightly spring theme. It also doesn’t seem like an accident that the first cinematic stills in the paper guide, of About Dry Grasses and About Thirty, are of sun-kissed images.

Late this past week, nine of our writers sat down, first with a PDF file of the film guide, then paper copies as they became available, to share their initial thoughts on some of the festival’s changes this year. They also briefly detail what they’re anticipating amongst the more than 140 films included, what might be absent, and some of the contextual minutiae that might go unnoticed or hidden under certain program titles. We hope our mix and mingling of personalities provides some fun perspective and guidance as you make a decision or 10.

Editor’s note: Any film first listed without a parenthetical year is a new premiere; otherwise, release years are provided.

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Grant Phipps:

I think the recently passed David Bordwell, to whom the festival is dedicated, would relish what the programmers have pulled off in the stunning selection of international cinema even by prior festival standards. I joked to myself that the only thing not here is Bas Devos’ Here (2023), in fact. From About Dry Grasses (197 minutes), Close Your Eyes (169 minutes), Do Not Expect Too Much From The End Of The World (164 minutes), to Green Border (152 minutes), it seems Artistic Director Mike King is admirably all in on epic-length “progressive” cinema, as he might call it. And I’d recommend anyone pursuing the bona fide festival experience to loop in one of those four vastly different films—by eminent masters like Víctor Erice, Nuri Bilge Ceylan, and Agnieszka Holland, and newly emergent auteurs like Radu Jude—without the temptation of the pause button. We’re in an era when the chance will not arise again locally.

Unlike my initial 2022 assessment, I don’t have a spread or single page I’d point to for a concentration of highlights (though page 25 is certainly in contention). As someone fond of flower patterns in visual art, and who pored over a lot of floral footage in crafting an experimental short of my own a couple years ago, I’m drawn to the “Light Needs & Botanical Shorts” program that matches this year’s vernal visual identity. It features a star-studded short, Natura Artis Magistra, by my fellow Golden Badger juror from last year, Kate Balsley, as well as a Golden Badger award winner for 2024, Parallel Botany. In the past few years, especially, I’ve had a knack for noting ’90s curiosities, even if I ultimately didn’t end up loving them. But I have a right feeling about the crime comedy, The Wrong Guy (1997), which was never released commercially in the United States.

It’s encouraging to see a brand-new feature, Ghostlight, by Chicago-based filmmaking couple, Kelly O’Sullivan and Alex Thompson, who I last caught up with in 2020 right after lockdowns when their 2019 feature Saint Frances was being distributed virtually. Lastly, here’s a singularly regional inclusion: the fest is presenting silent and sound outtake footage from 1920s and 1930s Wisconsin Fox Movietone newsreels. They precede two Saturday and Sunday programs, Man’s Castle (1933) and “Richard Davis, Lynda Barry, and The Wisconsin Idea.”

Steven Spoerl:

Looking at the 2024 edition of the guide for the Wisconsin Film Festival (WFF) is a cogent reminder of the love and appreciation that grounds celebrations of film. It’s also a stark reminder that I need to personally rekindle my commitment to the medium. For the first time in several years, I only recognize two of the films slated to screen that made their debuts over the past two years: Lois Patiño’s Samsara and Margreth Olin’s Songs Of Earth. To be clear, this is not an indictment of WFF’s programming, but a reflection of the constraints of time that have minimized my overall ability to keep up with film.

There’s a lot here to admire in terms of overall design and aesthetic makeup, from an emphasis of a simplified Picasso-esque visual theme to the easily-digestible layout. And buried within the recesses of the guide is a showcase of one of the better WFF shirts in recent memory.

In terms of selection: there’s a head-turning amount of music-forward fare on offer, from films centering storied composers (Richard Davis, Ennio Morricone) to concert films (Ryuichi Sakomoto) to wide-ranging, music-centric films using a documentarian framework (Melomaniac, The Klezmer Project) to decades-old musicals (West Indies from 1979, Miss Sadie Thompson in 3D from 1953), options for music lovers abound. Throw in several films from locally based musicians (Luke Bassuener, Wendy Schneider) as well as the promise of “live performances and demonstrations” from the Richard Davis Foundation, and Wisconsin Film Festival promises to be a veritable feast for the intersection of music and film.

Jesse Raub:

For many people, film festivals are an introduction to a variety of new and exciting features and shorts from up-and-coming directors all over the world. For true sickos, however, it might be your only chance locally to catch John Carpenter’s Christine (1983) or the Dave Foley-starring The Wrong Guy (1997) on the big screen. Both of those movies built cult followings on home-video release, and if you’ve ever wondered “Can Carpenter turn an evil car movie into a Western somehow?” or “Just how dark can a mid-NewsRadio Dave Foley comedy be?” Then, well, you better pull up the Wisconsin Film Festival guide and mark showtimes in your personal planner. 

Of course, you can also see Steve Zahn and Peter Sarsgaard go off in a cowboy hat in last year’s LaRoy, Texas and Coup!, respectively, or browse the guide for any other write-ups that speak to you personally. It can be tricky to navigate the density of its preview sections, so it’s better to start with the guide’s blocked-out schedule smack-dab in the middle (on pages 16 and 17) to see what you’re able to catch, first. Otherwise, you might get too excited about finally seeing The Tingler (1959) in “Percepto,” the spine-buzzing schlock horror gimmick masterpiece from 1959, only to realize you’ve gotta attend your niece’s birthday the same day.

Hanna Kohn: 

Spring isn’t really springing until there’s a chunky stack of Isthmus issues stationed at the door of your friendly local coffee shop with Wisconsin Film Festival Official Guides stuffed inside. The yellow glow of the cover is enchanting to me, and exactly one other person that sits and sips from a mug in front of me. I oscillate between (respectfully) watching them pore over this year’s offerings while consulting a tiny Moleskine journal and the parade of people filtering in and out of the shop ignoring the mostly untouched stack of guides positioned in their path.

To me, the guide has always been like popcorn—if I see it, I’ve gotta have it and if I start it, there’s no putting it down. If that’s you, too, or you’re just not sure about what’s “good,” here are a few titles that are screening at this year’s festival that got caught in my pen’s orbit while tearing through the lines and lemony yellow zest of this year’s fest: 

Ryuichi Sakamoto | Opus on Sunday, April 7, at 11:15 a.m. at Music Hall. Lately, I’ve been obsessed with the Yellow Magic Orchestra song “Thousand Knives.” The opportunity to watch rare concert footage of this late, great musician on a Sunday morning is too good to pass up. 

So Unreal on Saturday, April 6, at 4 p.m. and Sunday, April 7, at 11 a.m. at Chazen Museum of Art. Debbie Harry as narrator. Full stop. 

Red Rooms on Sunday, April 7, at 7:30 p.m. at The Marquee at Union South and Wednesday, April 10, at 6 p.m. at Flix Brewhouse, Cinema 8. An edgy French thriller that seems to have such a good grasp on the terrors and nuance of surveillance technology and culture. I lay awake after watching the eerie soundtrack and fast strobe effects of the trailer thinking about the friend who took me up on my suggestion to watch Elle (2016) and how they will be receiving a text about Red Rooms soon. 

Humanist Vampire Seeking Consenting Suicidal Person on Friday, April 5, at 6:30 p.m. at Union South Marquee and Monday, April 8, 8:30 p.m. at Flix Brewhouse, Cinema 8. This film seems to marry the campiness of Buffy The Vampire Slayer (1992) with the cartoony teen-ified darkness of Twilight (2008), and I’m not mad about it.

Edwanike Harbour: 

Last year, festival attendees said goodbye to AMC Hilldale which served as a stalwart for the Wisconsin Film Festival for many years. This year, Flix Brewhouse will step into this role during weekday screenings. Flix hosted the festival’s annual “First Look at the Fest” preview event this past Wednesday night. While the location has changed, the selection remains as broad and diverse as ever.

The 2023 festival had some selections that focused on tactile sensations for the audience (which return this year in The Tingler in “Percepto”). This year seems to have a wide range of lengthy entries in international cinema such as About Dry Grasses, clocking in at three hours and 17 minutes. With all the pacing of a Tarkovsky-like saga, the aura of this entry will immediately come to mind once the viewer sees the Janus Films logo.

For those wanting a more immersive experience, some highlights include Sweet Dreams, Samsara, and Ryuichi Sakamoto | Opus, which contains 20 pieces of the brilliant Japanese composer’s life’s work. This intimate black-and-white piece, directed by Sakamoto’s son, Neo Sora, was completed shortly before the composer’s death and will be sure to leave an indelible mark on viewers.

I am also excited about Riddle Of Fire, Dancing Queen, In A Violent Nature, and Dirty Money (1972), the latter which has been described as a Coen Brothers-meets-Jim Jarmusch bloodstained tale of retribution. A visit from a rich uncle stirs bad feelings amongst his downtrodden relatives, and they concoct a scheme to invade the uncle’s wealthy estate. But, as is the way with such capers, nothing goes according to plan.

Ian Adcock:

I’m curious about how the festival will feel spread so far across town this year, though I am somewhat selfishly happy about it coming further east. Movies returning to the Barrymore and Bartell is an exciting development!

As far as new releases go, I’m looking forward to checking out the Hitchcockian thriller The Universal Theory, Ryusuke Hamaguchi’s new film Evil Does Not Exist, and Melomaniac, a documentary on legendary Chicago concert taper Aadam Jacobs.

I’m probably most excited for Ryuichi Sakamoto | Opus; I found the documentary Ryuichi Sakamoto: Coda (2017) to be a moving portrait of an artist at the end of his life, and Opus seems like a follow-up farewell/career retrospective from Sakamoto himself.

As a longtime devotee of film composer Ennio Morricone, I’m looking forward to Giuseppe Tornatore’s documentary Ennio, as well as two films with scores by the maestro—the 3-D obscurity Treasure Of The Four Crowns (1983) in 3D and The Burglars (1971), a rollicking Jean-Paul Belmondo vehicle filled with car chases and jaw-dropping stunts.

There are also a number of intriguing restorations at this year’s festival like Hiroshi Teshigahara’s debut film Pitfall (1962) and racy Depression-era romance Man’s Castle (1933). And of course I have to recommend attending screenings of cult classics The Wrong Guy and The World’s Greatest Sinner (1962).

Lewis Peterson:

I’ll list the thing that gave me an involuntary yelp of excitement when I first saw it in the guide: The World’s Greatest Sinner (1962). It’s a movie I’ve seen at least half a dozen times in a super-pixelated version I downloaded when I was in college, and have subjected friends to a few times over the years. Timothy Carey (of Paths Of Glory, Killing Of A Chinese Bookie, and Head fame) wrote, directed, and stars in a testament to the sheer spectacle of bad taste in a tale of a guy who gets sick of the 9-to-5 grind, changes his name to “God,” dons a fake beard, founds a political party based on living forever, and pursues problematic age gaps in both directions.

Second most exciting is also a throwback to mid-20th century theatricality: The Tingler (1959) in “Percepto,” which means the usual Cinematheque space at 4070 Vilas Hall is going to be rigged with vibrating seats on Friday, April 5, to mirror the slug-like monster crawling around on screen.

For more high-minded fare, Do Not Expect Too Much From The End Of The World, Evil Does Not Exist, and Close Your Eyes are films I noticed showing up on best-of lists from bigger festivals last year. I was hoping they’d all make it to the WFF. My only mild disappointment is the lack of Harmony Korine’s Aggro Dr1ft. Though, I suppose now that the only strip club in Madison city limits is a grocery store, there’s not really a proper venue for it.

C Nelson-Lifson: 

Like many of us, I am mourning the loss of the centralized Hilldale theater hub for the fest, but also excited for the upcoming changes this year! I am curious to see how it goes with films being shown at many different places like Music Hall (deep CNL lore: my parents were married there!), the Bartell Theater, the Barrymore, and East Towne Mall’s Flix Brewhouse. As a resident of the east side, I am thrilled that I won’t have to make as many trips downtown or to the near west side (but apprehensive to see how the in-theater service at Flix could impact viewing experiences).

Films that I hadn’t heard of before seeing the trailers at this year’s First Look preview event are Sweet Dreams, a restoration of Bushman (1971), The Gullspång Miracle, and Riddle Of Fire. I am excited to see Angels Of Dirt, as I know it has been a labor of love for director Wendy Schneider and has been in the works for many years. I am also excited to see In A Violent Nature, because I love a good slasher, but also to see the editing by Wisconsin’s very own Alex Jacobs!

Deciding between all the films the fest has to offer is always such a challenge because the organizers do such a great job selecting films that you won’t physically be able to see all the bangers. It gives me a sense of relief knowing that, while I will unfortunately have to miss out on some good movies, I will likely be seeing other good movies in their place at the same time. 

I am most curious about The Tingler (1959), complete with gimmicky “Percepto,” a.k.a. the immersive cinema experience that vibrates the seats to simulate the titular creature getting loose in the theater. John Waters has been one of my biggest cinema influences, and hearing him fondly talk about seeing The Tingler with Percepto had a big impact on me in my formative years. I know that Do Not Expect Too Much From The End Of The World was included in Waters’ favorite films of 2023, and I usually do not take his recommendations lightly.

If you see me out and about during the fest with a crazed look in my eye, that could mean I am simply caffeinated or possibly that my chemistry has been rearranged from bearing witness to so many different films, but I assure you this is healthy and normal.

Jason Fuhrman:

This year’s festival guide presents yet another dizzyingly diverse and impeccably curated lineup of films that leaves me breathless with anticipation. While I have managed to narrow down the approximately 142 selections to a mere 48 films that I’m interested in seeing, I’ll obviously have to make some difficult decisions.

Ryusuke Hamaguchi’s enigmatic environmental fable Evil Does Not Exist instantly stands out as one of my top picks. The Japanese director’s previous feature, Drive My Car (2021), opened the spring Cinematheque program in 2022 and was one of my favorite films that year.

I have high hopes for Do Not Expect Too Much From The End Of The World, a deliriously radical satire of modern work culture from Romanian provocateur Radu Jude. This looks like exactly the kind of edgy fare that I tend to seek out at the festival and it will surely resonate after a series of absurd situations at my current place of employment.

I’m really looking forward to Amanda Kramer’s So Unreal, a deep dive into 1980s and ’90s cyberspace cinema, which ties in nicely with the recent screening of Kathryn Bigelow’s 1995 dystopian tech-noir thriller Strange Days (1995) on 35mm at the Cinematheque. Narrated by none other than Debbie Harry, this is a must-see for me since I’m an avid Blondie fan, and I have watched David Cronenberg’s techno-surrealist film Videodrome (1983) literally countless times.