NYFF 2025: Late Fame, what does this nature tell you, Barrio Triste | Festivals and awards

At this year’s New York Film Festival, multiple stories explored the generation gap between jaded elders and eager young minds hoping for a better future. In Kent Jones’ new comedy-drama “Late fame” Willem Dafoe plays Ed Saxberger, a postal worker in the twilight of his life who was once a poet. In the decades since the publication of his only collection of poetry, he has led an unpretentious life. After a day spent quietly and meticulously sorting mail, Saxberger heads to the local dive center and cuts it out with a cohesive group of regulars.

At the end of the night, he returns to his modest apartment, enjoying the calm of his solitude. But one of these nights, his quiet life is interrupted by a young admirer (Edmund Donovan) who observes him from the street. The dapper young man introduces himself as Meyers, a true gentleman writer with an old soul. For the first time in a long time, Saxberger suddenly found himself in a community of writers and artists. We learn that at the time he was writing, he was a young man among the elders, observing and learning as much as he could. Now it’s his turn to be the wise elder. The only problem is that Saxberger considers himself neither a sage nor an artist. He doesn’t know how to guide his new band of young admirers.

Based on the short story of the same name by Austrian author Arthur Schnitzler and adapted by “May December” screenwriter Samy Burch, “Late Fame” is a melancholic exploration of what it means to be an artist. As Saxberger, Dafoe gives a stripped-down performance, in stark contrast to his much louder recent roles in genre films like “Poor Things” and “Nosferatu.” Donovan is a find, playing Meyers with a boyish charm tempered by a calculated display of movement. But what stands out here is Greta Lee as a talented performer whose raw talent and work ethic weren’t enough to catapult her to the kind of career she dreams of. The New York City where these characters live is haunted by the shadows of a more vibrant and culturally nourishing past. The classic theatricality of its characters juxtaposed with the modern world gives “Late Fame” the feeling of a eulogy to an artistic world that young idealists desperately want to revive.

Hong Sang-soo’s latest feature film, “What does this nature tell you?” it is also the generational divide between working elders and naive young artists. Ha Dong-hwa (Ha Seong-guk) is an idealistic young poet who drives his girlfriend, Kim Jun-hee (Kang So-yi), to her family home for the first time. There he meets his father (Kwon Hae-hyo) and the two men immediately seem to bond. As the day goes on, he meets the rest of his family: his depressed sister (Park Mi-so) and his loving mother (Cho Yun-hee). He spends the day getting to know them, first charming them with his good nature and politeness.

But as the visit continues late into the night, the young poet’s insecurities and naivety begin to shine through. And little by little, we realize that there’s a reason why it took him so long to meet his family. Once his sister reveals that she knows the young poet comes from a respected family with an impressive father, his amiable mask slips to reveal a spoiled and pompous young man, insecure about his privileged background.

Like many young male writers, he created a popular image of himself, more worthy of his lofty expectations. We see him fall out of favor with his girlfriend’s father in real time as it becomes clear that he lacks the substance he so desperately wants to embody. Much like “Late Fame,” “What Does That Nature Say to You” has a palpable nostalgia, seen from a more critical perspective. Ha Seong-guk’s performance collapses with his character, shattering the facade of the performance until all that is left is a little boy, quiet and insecure. In contrast, Kwon Hae-hyo starts off as a clumsy father before proving intelligent enough to recognize true authenticity.

In a later scene that appears to form the heart of the film, her father and mother discuss the boyfriend in private, remarking that they don’t believe the relationship will last. But as all good parents know, it’s best to let a relationship run its course. And maybe after this painful reality check, there will still be hope for him.

There’s no hope to be found “Sad neighborhood” a nightmarish odyssey into the depths of poverty and despair from Colombian-American director and photographer Stillz. After a gang of unstable and aimless young men steal a video camera from a local news anchor, they begin using it to document their troubled lives. Fighting and flying to survive, these young men seem to have each other as their only companions. Each member of the gang is thin, with shaved heads and eyes full of a sadness that seems to be their only heritage.

Set just outside Medellin, Colombia in the late 1980s, the film has a gritty, gritty look, enhanced by the action taking place on grainy, washed-out video. In one sequence, we watch the boys rob a jewelry store, frantically smashing all the glass display cases and effectively emptying the place, recklessly attacking the workers. They leave a bleeding man on the ground before getting into their car and driving back to the place they call home. With no parental figure in sight, the boys live in squalor in small twin beds. They only have enough to survive, making do with whatever they can steal. Outside there are posters of missing boys and talk of strange happenings throughout the neighborhood.

The film also includes interview segments where an anonymous cameraman interviews a depressed young man who describes his loneliness and despair in distressing detail while the camera studies every contour of his young face, his eyes sad with a heavy weariness well beyond his years. It’s difficult to say more about “Barrio Triste,” a film that makes its statements early and often, leaving us to wallow in the brutal truth of these young men’s lives.

There’s also global sensation Bad Bunny, with whom Stillz has frequently collaborated on several music videos. But “Barrio Triste” is not a film about star power: even when the supernatural elements of the story take hold, the director’s commitment to a realistic aesthetic never wavers. There are no wise elders to guide these young men. Their only hope is a benevolent transcendence beyond the physical world.