Cinema Scholars coverage continues with highlights from the 2026 SXSW Film and TV Festival. The event occurs every March in Austin, TX.
Are We Still Married?
A couple bickers through a locked front door. The husband, Jack (Dustin Milligan), pleads with his wife, Laura (Taylor Misiak), to let him back in. But she steadfastly refuses and retires to bed. After a restless attempt at sleep, Laura peeks outside to find her husband still there. Hanging out on the back porch. Clearly exasperated, she engages with Jack through the open back door. At a strangely safe distance.
This scene plays out like a classic husband-in-the-doghouse moment. But soon it becomes apparent that this is not your typical relationship riff. As Jack finally emerges from the shadows of their back patio, a pair of gnarly fang marks on his neck, along with a blood-soaked collar, are revealed. And then the genius ah-ha moment! Laura isn’t barring his entrance due to trivial matters of the heart. She is deciding whether or not to invite her freshly turned husband across the threshold. Because vampire rules, of course.
What ensues is hilarious banter, funny horror movie references, and a whole lot of chemistry between the two. And lots of questions regarding the nuts and bolts of his new affliction. Where does Jack go during the daytime? Does he sparkle like Edward or burst into flames like Nosferatu? If one of the two is technically dead, are they still married? And most importantly, is Jack actually capable of containing his newfound hunger if Laura acquiesces and lets the right one in?
While it is clear that they are still in love with one another, these questions and more prove a fascinating query in a whole new marital paradigm. Think Santa Clarita Diet, but with a different set of tropes and dogma to explore and possibly skewer.
As part of SXSW’s Independent TV Pilot Competition, the 11-minute proof-of-concept piece is tight, clever, and funny. Despite the quick runtime, director/showrunner Kit Steinkellner manages to build two incredibly likable and seemingly complex characters in a brief period. The pilot likely has a built-in audience with comedic horror fans, while non-genre viewers can identify with the rom-com vibe of the hilarious and often sweet situational banter.
With so much incredible potential and avenues for clever morbid discussion, Are We Still Married? definitely leaves you wanting much, much more.
A Safe Distance
No festival is complete without a moody, visually stunning drama. A cast of unknowns, a simple premise, and some intriguing imagery are what film festivals are made of. Filling the void for me this year is A Safe Distance, a captivating story of extreme self-discovery set against the gorgeous Northern Pacific backdrop.
The film opens as shots ring out in a secluded wood. Two women work to dispose of a body, clean themselves up in a creek, and hop a bus across the commonwealth. The film then slingshots to a couple, Alex (one of the aforementioned pair) and Joey, meandering down a wooded road on a camping trip. While Joey has misguided motives for the trek, Alex is clearly not on the same page as her beau.
When Alex declines Joey’s unexpected proposal, and he leaves her in the woods, she is taken in by a young free-wheeling couple. From here, Alex goes on a literal and emotional journey she never expected.
A Safe Distance is sexy and dangerous. As Alex gets to know her new cohorts, she becomes entranced with their bohemian attitudes and way of life. At the same time, Alex enjoys this sudden, new awakening, she soon transitions from bystander to instigator. This gradual transition somehow makes sense, even though a sinister vibe permeates each scene.
In contrast to the dark subtext, director Gloria Mercer bathes the film in a gorgeous glow that reflects the serenity of the surrounding forest. Mercer ups the ante with subtle but effective visuals during a magic mushroom sequence as well. Even the flicker of the campfire takes on fascinating blips of light and shadows through her lens.
While the premise is curious enough to captivate, much of the story and characters are a bit predictable. The macho men in the narrative prove to be utterly cliché, even when they attempt to be feminist allies. Furthermore, the antagonists aren’t quite vilified enough to justify their unfortunate outcomes. Perhaps this is on purpose to further the notion of Alex’s about-face, but the result ends up lacking try resolution.
In the end, though, A Safe Distance is a satisfying morality tale about escape and finding oneself- in this case, within an ethereal setting and dangerous context. It’s a film that makes you question the right parts and enjoy the wrong ones.
Son Of A Bikram
Quirky comedy is alive and well in Son Of A Bikram, another off-the-wall entry from the Independent TV Pilot Competition. Showrunner/writer/star Ash T and showrunner/director Johnny Rey Diaz bring us their humorous proof-of-concept story about an immigrant son and his obsession and revelations in the world of hot yoga.
Raag is a devotee of a popular form of yoga taught by famed guru Bikram Choudhury. Much to his mother’s chagrin, Raag can be found sweating and twisting himself into a pretzel in his room during most of his downtime. When he’s not following his daily lessons from his yogi, Raag lives the cubicle life at his 9-5 job.
That is, until his mentor is accused of sexual assault, he is fired from his job, and his beloved Mother dies after revealing the truth about his long-deceased father. Now Raag must confront not only the father figure he’s always looked up to, but also questions his own identity.
Son Of A Bikram is a silly comedy from the get, with caricatures as characters in exaggerated scenarios. This over-the-top sensibility sets the stage for a pretty funny introduction to Raag’s world.
A big part of that world is his “office space” work life, where a Lumbergh-like boss pelts him with extra work sprinkled with not-so-subtle racism. Not the overt kind, but the “kiddingnotkidding” variety that only WASP-y middle-aged males seem to get away with. While some of these jokes and/or stereotypes might feel a bit tired and/or fall completely flat, they help build an uneasy pressure on hangdog Raag.
While nothing special in the visual department, the straightforward style already feels like a bizarre sitcom. Like if Office Space and Scrubs had a bizarre bouncing baby. A later fantasy sequence with Raag exacting brutal revenge on his work cohorts benefits from this contrasting simplicity. As blood is shed and the surprising gore intensifies, the whole thing still feels frenetic and funny.
So, aside from (purposely?) misguided humor like 9/11 jokes or references to a bomb-like lunchbox, Son Of A Bikram is pretty clever and leaves you wondering what’s up next for Raag and his creators, Ash T and Diaz.
The Snake
What’s better than a comedy about a deeply flawed character on a journey of self-acceptance? When that deeply flawed character is also a hot, ballsy metal babe with ridiculously questionable decision-making. Indeed, bad choices and tough learning experiences abound in Jenna MacMillan’s comedy The Snake.
The film begins as Jamie, a ne’er-do-well thirty-something (?), regales her driver with a backseat epic about spending the night in the drunk tank instead of her loser boyfriend. The scene soon transitions to reveal that her “driver” is actually the cop dropping her off at home after said incarceration. This introduction perfectly encapsulates Jamie’s devil-may-care attitude that carries throughout the film.
Unfortunately for the raccoon-eyed party girl, her estranged mother has commandeered the house her grandmother left her. Now homeless, jobless, and boyfriend-less, Jamie relies on her successful, strait-laced childhood bestie for support. When a comedy of errors and terrible decisions end up with Jamie in even more trouble, she is finally forced to face her long-simmering emotional issues at the crux of her bad attitude and bad luck.
The Snake is a curious take on the age-old Peter Pan trope. Usually, it’s the dudes who don’t want to grow up, so there’s something wickedly satisfying about watching a woman screw her life up instead. It doesn’t hurt that Susan Kent exudes irresistibly sleazy charisma as the beleaguered protagonist. Even as you cringe for Jamie as she stumbles along, it’s impossible not to relish in her ill-advised antics.
While the film firmly sits within our normal universe, wild characters (like elderly twins “Captain Stink,” speaking in perfect unison) and repetitive elements (like therapy where you imagine killing and pulverizing your mom) keep the film just off-center enough to buy into the overall absurdity. Furthermore, the film doubles down on flipping the gender script by calling out subtle (and sometimes overt) toxic feminism in more than one scene.
Unfortunately, the film is not all fun and games. While crucial to Jamie’s arc, the narrative concerning her domineering mom begins to feel too over-the-top, even by the film’s silly standards. The story continues to go off the rails with an icky betrayal by Jamie. Though again, these poor choices certainly do make for an entertaining journey, it might make you wonder who exactly you’re cheering for here.
Despite this third-act lull, the bad judgment feels almost meta as The Snake brings it home with a well-earned and surprising sweetness. But never fear, Jamie never loses her razor-edge badass attitude.
One Another
Making and maintaining friendships can be hard. Once you’re past school days, forming new platonic relationships can be even more challenging than the romantic kind. Additionally, as lives shift or priorities change, it’s not uncommon for friendships to fizzle out. In the new documentary One Another, director Amber Love uses the recent reconciliation between her mom and a family friend as the starting point for a meditation on how vital close friendships are to our well-being.
In addition to her mom’s poignant story, Love features two more narratives to illustrate the many forms this tight bond can take. Boston besties Joe and Roni come to terms with Joe’s imminent move across the country for a fresh start in San Francisco. The duo has leaned on and learned from one another in their respective queer journeys, but now their evolving identities and lifestyles may be diverging.
Another subject, Giorgia, looks back lovingly on her high school friend-turned loyal pen pal, Alexa. When Giorgia suffers severe manic episodes in her struggle with bipolar disorder and PTSD, her fear of losing her friend becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy. Now with a handle on her mental health, Giorgia longs to reconnect with her BFF.
One Another follows the documentary playbook to a T. A verité shooting style and a subtle score allow the triple narrative to unfold at an organic pace. As the focus bounces between each thread, certain similarities in each began to emerge, making the otherwise disjointed stories feel cohesive.
While One Another has a lot of important points to make about the travails of modern friendship, the runtime feels a bit indulgent. Beautiful and meaningful imagery captures the importance of the topic, but after too long, it feels a bit overwrought. Furthermore, an interesting third-act meta-dramatization of teenage Giorgia and Alexa with the real-life present-day Giorgia feels misplaced. One can appreciate the interesting effort to break up the fly-on-the-wall style. But it ends up feeling too random without equal renditions in the other narratives.
Minor gripes aside, One Another is a lovely, sometimes powerful look at the nuance and complexity of long-term friendship. It illustrates that some of our biggest heartbreaks come not from our romantic ups and downs. They can also come from the ride or die friends who inform so much of our lives.
