I once said that the Midnight Section at the Sundance Film Festival is where all the magic happens. While I do still hold onto that notion thanks to past entries like Saw (2004), Hereditary (2018), and more recently Loves Lies Bleeding (2024), it could always be hit or miss. While more on the miss this year, there have been several standouts that still stuck with me for one reason or another. Those two features are Touch Me and Didn’t Die.

Touch Me Review

Sundance Synopsis: Two codependent best friends become addicted to the heroin-like touch of an alien narcissist who may or may not be trying to take over the world.

In the opening sequence of writer-director Addison Heimann’s Touch Me, Joey (Olivia Taylor Dudley) provides her therapist with a long-winded monologue about how one alien’s journey to earth nearly ruined her life. Her lover was Brian (Lou Taylor Pucci), an alien with tentacles and enough rizz to make anyone immune to resisting his wits and charm. A lover of hip-hop dancing and track suits, Brian journeyed to save the earth.

The relationship between Joey and Brian was intoxicating, according to Joey. So much so that one late evening’s erotic sex trip led to a violent encounter that Joey desperately wants to forget about. To do so, she stays with her gay best friend Craig (Jordan Gavaris), a rich kid who lives to be lazy and has a long list of his own problems. When their apartment suddenly gets flooded by horse manure, there’s only one man (or alien) they can turn to for help.

Heimann’s intoxicating, psychosexual sci-fi horror film is a lot of things. It’s frenetic, campy, and fun, with a whole lot of style drawing from 60-70s Japanese cinema in between. Heimann’s kaleidoscopic lens offers a psychedelic journey of mayhem for us to go on, as Joey and Craig obsess over their sexual experiences with Brian. Yet, its humorous tone made this galactic love affair a purely entertaining show.

Heimann’s psychosexual sci-fi horror is frenetic, campy fun.

Underneath all its humor and style is a story about mental health and childhood trauma. For Joey, she intends to forget, and the only way to do so is to latch onto Brian’s anxiety-calming tentacles. What’s the opposite of a rush? Whatever it is, Joey is after it to forget all the hurt that has made her the delicate being that she is. But the problem with trying to forget is not being able to truly deal with the pain of the past. Moreover, when Joey gets a taste of relief for just one moment, she becomes obsessed over it and will do anything to protect that.

At the first sign of interference, Joey readies herself to eliminate all the obstacles that might come in between her relationship with Brian–even if that means betraying her best friend. But that’s addiction, folks. The more we avoid healing, the more we look at other outlets for comfort. Anything standing in the way of that is a threat to survival. For Joey, it’s no different. To that end, Dudley’s performance is near perfection. She handles the complexities of her character with strength, vulnerability, and confidence.

On the surface, Touch Me may seem like it’s solely hyper focused on its outlandish hip-hop dancing alien and creative sexual sequences. But it’s more than that. It offers a unique perspective on addiction in a way that makes us reflect on untreated trauma and hurt. Heimann’s script enables every member of this cast to truly have their moments to shine, which is not easy to do. Yet, they do it gracefully and build up a chemistry that is rock-solid fun. Did I mention that underneath this all, there will be blood? Because there will–and lots of it. So, strap in because this is a ride you do not want to miss.

Didn’t Die Review

Sundance Synopsis: A podcast host desperately clings to an ever-shrinking audience in the zombie apocalypse.

I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of zombie movies. From 28 Days Later and Dawn of the Dead to even the beloved Zombieland, it feels like this subgenre of horror films is here to stay. And I’m all for it thanks to their ability to entertain and provide those gory kills at which we all love to squirm. Like all films with zombies, there’s generally one big mission: to survive. But what happens when you have survived? Where do you go from there? Writer-director Meera Menon asks these questions in her Sundance entry, Didn’t Die.

Vinita (Kiran Deol) is a post-apocalypse podcaster who is travelling the world with her brother Rishi (Vishal Vijayakumar) to entertain whoever is [and can] dial in during this new bleak world. Wanting to connect with anyone she can, she tries to find the humor within the latest way of living while her friends and family try to cope in other ways. So, why then was I disappointed with this film, which is filled with both originality and familiarity?

Didn’t Die is original but lacks the storytelling a Sundance film needs.

The truth is Didn’t Die simply does not have enough meat on its bones. The idea that humans tend to band together in moments of crisis is often explored within the film. But you get a sense that all the characters have deep history–things we don’t become privy to. As a result of this tented approach, it feels as if we never get to know the characters for who they were pre-apocalypse and why they’re operating the way they are in the present. Ultimately, this limited my ability to connect with them.

What Menon’s zombie apocalypse origin is lacking in storytelling, it makes up in lighting and cinematography. The film was shot in black and white, and fittingly, to capture the emotional weight of living among the dead. The soundtrack also pairs well with the eerie setting. Yet, it breathes life into the journeys of the characters, just as they are grasping onto all that they can to feel alive after surviving horrors.

It’s not a perfect zombie apocalypse film, but there’s something here for those wishing to see originality brought back into the genre. And if you’re a fan of George Romero’s early work, you may feel the homage in Menon’s effort. Didn’t Die is not without its flaws, but at least there’s genuineness here about what connects us to each other during a crisis.