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Industry Beat
by Anthony Kaufman
Blue Skies in Park City: Against the “Off Year” Sundance 2025 Narrative
Eva Victor in Sorry, Baby Reports of Sundance’s death are greatly exaggerated. Even before this year’s festival was over, industry journalists rushed to declare its demise, from The Wrap’s Sharon Waxman (“Low Sales. No Standouts. Slow Sundance. Where Does Independent Film Go From Here?”) to The Ankler’s Richard Rushfield (“Get it Together, Indie A-Holes. What part of ‘extinction event’ do you not understand?”). But let’s not jump to conclusions.
Maybe “the vibe was off,” as one producer notes, but what do you expect after twin catastrophes—the Los Angeles fires and the inauguration of Donald Trump—were still smoldering during the event?
“I think the market was stronger than how it was portrayed in earlier reports, before the festival even took off,” says one sales agent. “Buyers waited to see the full scope of the festival before making offers, but the narrative that things were not happening is just not true. Let’s not assess after a few days; let’s assess after a few months.”
While it’s true the first few days of Sundance 2025 didn’t produce as many deals as in years past, all anyone had to do was have some patience. Perhaps Sundance’s only misstep was waiting until Monday (after a lot of the industry had already decided to give up) to schedule Sorry, Baby, the much-heralded debut from star and director Eva Victor that energized critics and buyers, with A24 spending a reported $8 million. Because of venue space, the festival is simply more spread out, according to insiders, with the big premieres occurring through Tuesday for the first time this year.
“Yes, the marketplace was slow to pick up,” acknowledges Joe Pirro, producer of the Sundance-premiering remake of The Wedding Banquet, “but in the back half of the festival, things started to move. It’s still a remarkable place for finding new voices,” he continues, name-checking not just Eva Victor, but also James Sweeney, director-star of festival favorite Twinless, which is likely to close a substantial deal, and the Scriver brothers, directors of Endless Cookie, “one of the most inventive movies at the festival.”
Indeed, if you look back at Sundance over the past few years, the pattern that emerges of films acquired during the festival is surprisingly consistent: one massive genre sale (this year, NEON’s Together, compared with It’s What’s Inside and Talk to Me in previous years); one major awards play (this year, Netflix’s Train Dreams vs. past buys A Real Pain and Flora and Son); one new auteur breakout (this year, A24’s Sorry, Baby vs. Dìdi or Cha Cha Real Smooth); one critics’ darling directed by Ira Sachs (this year, Janus/Sideshow’s Peter Hujar’s Day vs. Passages); an edgy sardonic thriller (MUBI’s Lurker vs. Fair Play or Emily the Criminal) and at least one or two buzzy documentaries (this year, The Perfect Neighbor, likely acquired by Netflix). According to the numbers, 2025 was only off by two or three acquisitions mid-fest compared with the past three years.
Granted, major buyers Apple+ and Searchlight did not close deals during Sundance, which they normally do, but that doesn’t mean there was a dearth of quality films. In fact, according to one metric—Indiewire’s grading system for all of its reviews for this year’s Sundance films—the class of Sundance 2025’s B average (2.93) slightly outpaced last year’s B- average (2.79) last year.
Nor is the lack of more announced purchases a sign that buyers weren’t engaged; some were just overbid. Within a couple of weeks after the festival, Sony Pictures Classics and Oscilloscope closed deals on well-regarded distinctive lower-budget NEXT entries East of Wall and OBEX, respectively. “I can tell you we have other offers out,” says Oscilloscope head Dan Berger, “so, I think there’s a lot going on behind the scenes that people aren’t privy to.”
“Has the programming shifted away from more commercial films? I don’t know,” adds Roadside Attractions’ Eric d’Arbeloff. “It’s always been a combination of artistic films and commercially-intended films. Acquisitions ebb and flow, and there are always off years, so I don’t think you can read too much into it.”
Veteran producer, screenwriter, director and former studio head James Schamus, also a producer on The Wedding Banquet as well as its co-screenwriter, acknowledges that “back in the ’90s, there was certainly a sense that it was all about going to market,” he writes in an email. “I used to say that there was no more commercial festival in the world than Sundance because EVERYTHING was for sale, and EVERYONE was selling. But it was a market, and clearly, we’re a long ways past that era now.”
But even if the epoch of late-night bidding wars is waning, that doesn’t suggest “an especially dire Sundance” (to quote Rushfield); it just suggests we’re living in a different moment—one of more measured expectations and new models. As Sundance Film Festival director Eugene Hernandez says, “This festival isn’t the same as it was in 1999, nor is it what it was even in 2019. In the past five years in particular, the Sundance Film Festival has evolved just as our audience has. [And] immediate sales during the fest are only one metric.”
And for all the complaining that Sundance didn’t present anything to “seize the new moment” (again, Rushfield), Netflix’s acquisition of Clint Bentley’s Train Dreams for a price tag in the double-digit millions is hardly the sign of a dying marketplace or streamers abandoning niche films. Based on Denis Johnson’s novella, the elliptical, time-skipping period drama has recognizable faces in Joel Edgerton and Felicity Jones (and a terrific cameo by William H. Macy), but its poetic storytelling is a far cry from conventional Netflix fare.
Train Dreams was nearly 10 years in the making, and producer Will Janowitz admits, “While it didn’t have a traditional three-act structure, it was very visual, the themes were strong and I think it just had that special ingredient that resonated with everyone involved.” Janowitz credits Kamala Films, which supported the development of the project, and Black Bear “because they were willing to take risks,” he says, “and were rewarded for this one.”
WME Independent agent Will Maxfield, part of the team that sold four of the five in-Sundance deals, notes their successful sales prove there’s still “a confidence that Sundance films can go the distance with awards,” he says. “We’ve seen that with CODA and A Real Pain, and with Netflix taking a bet on Train Dreams. It’s exciting to see films with awards potential, like Train Dreams, get such robust deals. It will hopefully encourage more financiers to take bets on original projects with distinct voices and visions.”
Risk-taking, of course, may be more the exception than the rule nowadays, particularly among established distribution companies that focus on theatrical exhibition. As Roadside’s d’Arbeloff admits, “The current landscape is less predictable and more eclectic than it was in years past because the core Landmark [Theatre]-oriented audience is the hardest to get to now, but it’s not terrible; it’s just very tricky.” But because of this “tricky” theatrical landscape, d’Arbeloff says in some ways companies must take more chances to succeed. “The market requires you to really lean into your taste, choose those movies you love, be really bullish and take a risk on them,” he says.
While most distributors acknowledge that much of the power and revenue now lies with the streaming services, which are less in the business of independent film nowadays, that’s not necessarily the case for the boutique distributors that continue to survive. “I don’t see any difference from taking on a movie like OBEX now versus five years ago,” says Oscilloscope’s Berger about Albert Birney’s lo-fi fantasy tale. “Yes, there are some differences in the marketplace—downstream sales to streamers aren’t happening the way they used to—but those sales were never guaranteed for us,” he explains. “Our business is based less on that SVOD deal and more on our theatrical revenue, which is meaningful, and our physical media sales are actually robust because we have a certain niche, and we’ve seen less attrition in that niche audience or our ability to reach it.”
The current unsteady environment has also sparked new endeavors and companies trying to evolve and change the way independent films are distributed. “It feels like the end of an era and the beginning of a new one,” says Elizabeth Woodward, founder and CEO of film company WILLA, who spoke at several Sundance panels as her business moves into distribution. With a new model that combines both philanthropic and private financing and works in partnership with filmmakers to create distribution strategies, Woodward says, “amidst the despair, there was also a lot of excitement about the possibility of being empowered.”
Likewise, John Fithian, former head of the National Alliance of Theater Owners (NATO), recently launched the Fithian Group, which is deploying a new platform, set for launch this summer, to help independent films reach a broader theatrical audience. Called Attend, the platform promises to enable effectively targeted or scaled-up releases. At Sundance, Fithian estimates he and partners Jackie Brenneman and Patrick Corcoran talked to some 100 filmmakers at panels and around Main Street, where there was “this sense of, ‘It’s about time,’” he says. “This is the only industry that doesn’t have a B2B platform that uses data and analysis to connect people selling their product to people who can retail their product.”
“Sundance is clearly not dead,” adds Fithian. “The breadth of quality and originality of feature films being produced today is better than I’ve ever seen, but it’s just harder and harder for those independent movies to find their way to theatrical audiences.”
Sundance’s Eugene Hernandez also acknowledges the challenges ahead. “This ecosystem has been under duress for the past five years, and there’s no guarantee that the next five won’t be as difficult or perhaps even more so,” he says. But he’s also remaining defiantly optimistic. While “there is palpable uncertainty in our field right now, justifiably so,” he says, “even in the days since the festival concluded I see folks engaging with how to navigate it and challenge it. Our community is resilient, as is Sundance, so we’ll continue to look ahead.”
