Last week, I jokingly said that Sundance’s films this year were either unbelievably horny or absolute emotional devastation. In our recap of the festival, our discussions of films such as I Want Your Sex and If I Go Will They Miss Me exemplified those polar opposites. Josephine, which took home both the Grand Jury and Audience awards, fell into the emotional devastation theme, following a child who witnesses a violent sexual assault. What struck me most about this film was not only its wonderful craft of a child’s mind, but the concept of reconciling what violence does to those not ‘directly’ affected. Other films at Sundance, such as Run Amok, where young people process a past school shooting, tackled a central idea of growing up in a violent era. Has a new generation penetrated mainstream cinema? What does that say about the films to come?
The “post 9/11” generation, another term for Gen-Z, was coined to describe those who grew up in an era defined by violence. Those of us born in the late ‘90s or early 2000s grew up with a constant “never forget” mindset that terrorism and violence were always around us, even if most of us were either not born or not old enough to remember the actual attacks. Despite being non-victims of the attack (except, of course, those who lost family members and loved ones on September 11), we still felt the weight of the violence, a kind of fear instilled unknowingly. Going to school in the mid-2000s, an era with a disastrously large amount of school shootings, cyberbullying, and online trafficking, more fear of violence penetrated our minds, even if we didn’t necessarily witness or fall victim to a violent incident.
There have, of course, been films that directly addressed these fears and events. World Trade Center (2006), Remember Me (2011), and Cloverfield (2008) are a few films that either addressed September 11 directly or used it allegorically to capture some of its emotions and anxieties. Even 2002’s 28 Days Later accidentally became synonymous with the event, tapping into post-attack anxieties.
There are even fewer films tackling school shootings. So far, none have addressed them in the way that Run Amok does, with most focusing on the infamous Columbine shooting or the victims themselves. Additionally, Law & Order: SVU (1999 -)presented audiences with various violent crimes, crimes with living victims, related to sex and children, with many episodes entering our schools and homes. In short, our media has, up until now, primarily focused on the direct effects of violence. Very few times have we looked beyond the actual event or taken into account the very meta-situation that violence on-screen and online has led to a constant state of “what if?”
What was so shocking about Sundance this year was not the novelty of crime, violence, and fear being put on screen, but that these stories were more focused on the indirect victims – the witnesses and those left in the aftermath of the event.
Josephine garnered the most attention. Winning both the jury and audience’s praise, director Beth de Araújo, who also penned the script, explored what happens to a child when they witness a violent assault. Josephine, played exceptionally by then-seven-year-old Mason Reeves, comes from a loving family, has pets and school-yard friends, and loves playing soccer in the park with her father. After witnessing a violent rape, Josephine has to reconcile newfound fears she doesn’t quite understand, all while continuously being questioned in the police investigation as the only witness.
Araújo’s script is genius. This is not a crime or courtroom-focused drama about whether a crime occurred or whether someone will be convicted. Nor does this focus on the consequences for the victim, and how she must handle her trauma. In fact, we spend minimal time with both the victim and the perpetrator. The focus is on Josephine — a child who doesn’t quite understand why she is now so suddenly afraid. Finally, a film has tapped into the mindset of Gen-Z, those who grew up knowing violence exists, but not fully grasping what to fear, where to look, or where to hide. The similar feelings of unknowable fear we had growing up are visualized in Josephine as we watch the assailant, who never speaks, follow Josephine in her subconscious. The threat is always there, lurking in our minds.
Run Amok, meanwhile, takes a wildly different approach to address what violence does to children. Directed and written by NB Mager, the film follows Meg (Alyssa Marvin), a teacher’s pet who plans to write and direct a musical reenactment of the shooting that took place at her high school 10 years prior. As a part of a remembrance ceremony, Meg chases “catharsis” and tries to reconcile with an event that happened when she was three and that took the life of her mother, a teacher at the school.
Much like Meg, many of us were too young to remember the September 11 attacks. Some of us lost family members in the event, people we no longer really remember. Meg also represents those of us who remember our schools being on lockdown because a shooting took place in a nearby school. We weren’t there, but we feel the ramifications.
The film is not without its faults. Where Josephine falls squarely within the drama genre, Run Amok employs comedy and satire, often shifting tones within scenes. But I applaud Mager’s honest look at how children and young adults handle tragedy. Often, I recall my parents or other adults shaming my friends and peers for making jokes about horrific events or situations. To us, that’s how we coped. Humor often found its way into our lives despite the darkness all around us. The film is polarizing, to say the least, but I found it intriguing to finally watch a film that attempts to address an anxiety that has never before been truly explored on screen.
Notably, both films explore how different generations respond to the same traumatic events. Josephine’s parents, played by Gemma Chan and Channing Tatum, also have to come to terms with the violence their daughter witnessed. But as we see, in small details like their moments of intimacy, having another baby, and still being able to work, the way they navigate the world after an event like this is very different from Josephine, who is almost paralyzed by fear and unable to escape.
In Run Amok, Meg and her classmates, who try to process the shooting through art, face opposition from adults who don’t want to talk about it and prefer to arm teachers rather than sit and look at the entire situation. While perhaps not executed perfectly, it still shows as much grey as we see in real-life shooting events. Run Amok draws a distinct line between those who grew up with the shooting looming over them and those who are able to separate the shooting from other chapters of life.
Other films at Sundance tackled various ramifications of violence and generational trauma. Vera Miao’s Rock Springs uses horror to tackle how violence affects a community and the trauma that seeps into generations to come, again having a child at the center. And while the focus is less on the child and more on generations, the idea that violence affects more than just the victims is still present.
In the documentary category, When a Witness Recants, a true story about The Harlem Park Three, discusses boys, now men, who were affected by a shooting and a corrupt legal system. This story, although not necessarily unique in hiding the racism in the US justice system, gives empathy and exposure to those who were not actually murdered. Rather, it focuses on the witnesses and bystanders of a violent event whose lives were ruined. There is, of course, more emphasis on the corruption, which in itself is another reality this generation has had to reconcile more and more in the wake of Me Too, BLM, and ICE-OUT protests, but the inclusion of the witnesses forced to lie on the stand speaks to those who aren’t victims of crime but are affected nonetheless.
There is no shortage of film and television already exposing us to the victims of such violence – terrorist attacks, school shootings, sexual assault, murder, and trafficking. However, one can’t help but wonder when film will begin to address what happens to us when all we consume is violent media, and when our world, from birth, is plagued by “what ifs,” “never forgets,” and “always be prepared.” Now, films like these are finally calling attention to Gen-Z’s constant exposure to violence and the effect these traumas have on our psyche.
Analysis Courtesy of Sara Ciplickas
Feature Image from ‘Josephine’ | Courtesy of Sundance Institute | photo by Greta Zozula