New/Next Film Festival 2023: Baltimore’s Successful Return to the Arthouse

This year may have been the inaugural New/Next Film Festival, but in many ways it felt like a return to form for the Baltimore film community. It might not have come as a surprise to some that the Maryland Film Festival, once a hub for DIY and emerging filmmakers in the late 2000s to the early 2010s, ended up in such a financial situation that they wouldn’t be able to hold their 25th anniversary event in 2023. After severing ties with their home base, The Charles Theater, to embark on a restoration project of the Parkway Theater just a few blocks away—itself a controversial and overcomplicated undertaking—and losing one of their key programmers, Eric Allen Hatch, in 2018, MdFF was primed for further decline even before the COVID pandemic digitized the whole festival season in 2020. But when they announced in 2022 the delay of their 2023 festival, locals were quick to act, with WYPR’s Director of Events & Community Engagement Sam Sessa contacting Hatch about holding their own festival. Amazingly, it happened.
From August 18-20, New/Next was held at MdFF’s old home, The Charles, with three jam-packed days of features, docs and fantastically curated shorts, with plenty of filmmakers and festivities every way you looked on that little block in Baltimore’s arts district, Station North. A few compromises had to be made to curate my schedule, missing the likes of Sebastián Silva’s Rotting in the Sun (coming to MUBI in September), Elaine McMillion Sheldon’s Appalachia symphony film King Coal, a highlight of shorts from Jimmy Joe Roche’s New Works series which highlights local experimental filmmakers, repertory screenings of Claire Denis’ No Fear, No Die and Lynne Ramsay’s Morvern Callar (the latter presented by the members of Beach House, an old MdFF tradition), as well as one film so big they needed to screen it in two theaters at once: The Body Politic, a documentary about Baltimore’s current and youngest mayor, Brandon Scott, who was in attendance for a Q&A.
It is a good problem to have too many great options at a festival. While it is unclear whether New/Next will be back in 2024 (it is highly dependent on what MdFF does or does not do next year), the first run was more than a success.
Here are our highlights from New/Next Film Festival 2023:
Hummingbirds
Filmed in the summer of 2018 while the co-directors Silvia Del Carmen Castaños and Estefanía “Beba” Contreras were only 18, this documentary of youth on the Texas border is as much a social realist picture as it is a whimsical teen comedy. Caught in a system as arbitrary as the games of bingo they played on bored nights, the two best friends search for whatever freedom they can in the town they’re not just stuck in, but literally can’t leave while their immigration status is up in the air. Silvia and Beba reel through Laredo talking about how they never felt like they had a childhood while turning their captive city into a playground, one both personal and cinematic. It might at first seem surprising that such a confident debut feature could come from such young filmmakers, although it is important to remember that they are part of the first generation who have been directing themselves since adolescence on social media. Hummingbirds’ form is not just borrowing from hybrid documentaries or narrative influences like Sean Baker’s The Florida Project, but also the linguistics pioneered by a new generation raised on a new kind of media that didn’t exist before they were born. Spontaneous, improvisatory and naturally radical, no film was more declaratory of the festival’s intent than this apt opening night feature.
The Legend of MexMan
Some stories just have to be seen to be believed. Even after seeing it, I still can’t believe Germán Alonso is real. From the moment he’s on screen, his incredible charisma, performativity and raw talent injects The Legend of MexMan with a kind of energy usually only found when actors like Jack Nicholson or Nicolas Cage take the brakes off. The Legend of MexMan follows Germán as he tries to get his first feature, MexMan, off the ground with the help from some suite-y USC collaborators whose rigid rules clash with Germán’s dynamistic ego. As exuberant as the man himself are his films—their vigor and strange creativity can be described as Sam Rami by way of the Brothers Quay. Taking an old VW van down to some California airstrip, Germán shares his studio with us, housed inside a hanger (apparently they’re cheap to rent) and full of hundreds if not thousands of meticulously handmade dolls, puppets and props, all of which are characters and details from the worlds he creates. But that boundless imagination comes at a cost, and when it comes time to collaborate, questions of power and creative control start to tear friends apart. The Legend of MexMan has all the deep-cut betrayals of The Social Network with the high-stakes behind-the-scenes of Hearts of Darkness, but on a scale so small it reminds you just how massive human emotions are.