You Make Me Feel So Young

A curmudgeonly biologist and his stoner graduate students encounter a group of mysterious backpackers who disrupt their lives in surprising ways.

Josh (Zach Weintraub) is a young American who has traveled to Buenos Aires to find subjects for a documentary series he has been commissioned to produce. While there, he seems also to be hoping to use the time to regroup—although regroup from what is unclear. The change of venue is not without its own set of problems, however. Josh finds it difficult to get his footing in Buenos Aires. Subjects aren’t coming easy, and he is having trouble connecting socially. He spends long stretches of time isolated in his rented room, struggling to move forward with his work and make social in-roads. Enter Anna (Sophia Takal), a young woman renting a room with an adjoining wall to Josh. After discovering each other through this shared wall, a friendship quickly blossoms which may lead to something more. What remains uncertain is if Anna’s presence will help pull Josh out of his doldrums.

Seventeen year-old Isaac tags along on an impromptu road trip with his older brother Ben and Ben's ex-girlfriend Lila. The trip staggers along uncertainly as the trio's delicate and ambiguous dynamic is made increasingly weaker by the brothers' mutual feelings for Lila.

When they find one another by chance in the middle of the woods, old friends Zach and Ellyn seem smiled-upon by the gods of summer, fated for a carefree season ranging across hills, lakes and forests. Gradually, however, their charmed reunion is distorted by an unseen but ever-expanding presence. Are they hidden in a quiet glade after all, or perched on the tip of the universe, buffeted by cosmic winds? Directed, shot, and edited by Ian Clark, A Morning Light finds a new mode for the sci-fi thriller, one of insomniac watchfulness. With its eerily precise photography and uncanny soundscape that pulses, rumbles, and roars behind sedate scenery, it poses the otherworldly as something very near, something embedded in our own eyes and ears. — Jon Kieran, New Orleans Film Festival

Unemployed college graduates Zach and Rob find themselves adrift in the wake of their education's real-world uselessness, looking for immediate gratifications wherever possible. When a cross-country call to adventure comes in the form of a $10,000 bounty on a mysterious package delivery, the two men engage in a gonzo road-trip to find meaning, adulthood and/or America itself.

Zach, a burnt-out suburban father, seizes a rare opportunity to live out a day as his younger, less responsible self. A spontaneous encounter with a fellow skater feels like a victory until an unsettling connection between the two emerges. The result is a forcible confrontation with his own bourgeois standing that shatters the illusion of his carefree day and sends it spiraling into dark territory.

Rob and his best friend Austyn apply to become human guinea pigs at the local medical testing facility of a vaguely intentioned multinational company called EvCorp. As the facility's mere presence has bitterly polarized their town, the two apply in stealth. Only Austyn is accepted - ushered away and out of contact into EvCorp's shadowy interior - leaving Rob to bear the burden of secrecy as well as the private concern that perhaps not all will be well with his buddy. As he navigates both sides of the town's deepening rift, guilt and denial do battle in his mind - evoking eerie visions, paranoia, and a strange physical malady. SLACKJAW is a mildly absurd bromantic dramedy about the path to personal responsibility amidst the divisive fog of a politicized landscape.

A sesh with the boys would make dad glad. But if dad can't get rad, then will he be sad?

An experimental short documentary about a visit to grandpa's house in Florida.

Jia Ning, a Beijing fashion photographer, agrees to help translate for Mark, an amateur British journalist coming to China for the first time.

A flailing father-to-be panics at the idea that a glorious moment from his past may now be inaccessibly distant.