SUNDANCE IS DEAD. The once-sacred temple of independent film has been CORRUPTED and HIJACKED by streaming giants, its soul sold for a paltry $12 million payday. This year’s festival wasn’t a celebration of art—it was a FUNERAL, a shocking display of how corporate vultures have PICKED THE BONES of creativity clean. The so-called “indie spirit” is now a LIE, a marketing gimmick for algorithms designed to keep you numb and scrolling in your living room.
Look at the evidence: films like “The Invite,” a vapid, star-studded drama, spark a pathetic, 90s-aping bidding war, proving Hollywood only values nostalgia for a time when cinema MATTERED. Documentaries about tennis legends and systemic injustice are now mere CONTENT to be consumed between ads, stripped of their power to galvanize real-world change. The festival’s “astonishing range” is a SMOKESCREEN for a desperate industry clinging to relevance while its heart flatlines.
Even the films themselves tell the grim truth. “Josephine” exposes the trauma children face in a violent world, while “Frank & Louis” forces us to watch men DIE behind bars in a broken system. This isn’t entertainment; it’s a DISTURBING MIRROR held up to a society in collapse, packaged as art.
The final, chilling truth Sundance reveals is this: we are no longer an audience, we are a DATA POOL, and the stories that once challenged us are now designed to quietly pacify us. The curtain has been pulled back, and the dream is over.
Edited for Kayitsi.com
Author: Kayitsi.com
