'American Dendrite' (2025 Green Film Fest of San Francisco Selection Series, Part 2)
Dear Moviegoers,
For my first two movie reviews from the 2025 Green Film Festival of San Francisco, please visit part 1 here. To learn more about the event and its screenings, visit the official website:
There is nothing more terrifying to me than the ocean of possibilities and impossible choices, as represented by bodies of water. Despite water being a place for birth, rebirth, and self-reflection, I tend to turn my head the other way, so as not to consider what lies within - at least not directly. The sounds of white noise are for sure soothing, but their seemingly endless beyond is just too overwhelming for me to think about.
American Dendrite, a Super 8mm shot interview documentary, looks to that beyond place, and moves as far past it as possible. Suffice to say, its filmmakers are braver than I. Or maybe crazier. Or more brazen.
The conceit of this film is not unlike a game of telephone, where one conversation is a reply to the previous entry, and so forth. The filmmakers travel down to the Mississippi River from Chicago, and all the way through New Orleans, right into the Gulf of Mexico. By the running water are towns and cities that are considered home, to varying degrees, by American individuals and couples, all with thoughts and feelings.
With a select few of these people making the cut, and with a long way toward the south to follow, American Dendrite appears to be more gimmick than grand experiment.
However, not unlike the portion of the country that's being documented, this could just be the most intelligent movie of this year, or maybe the decade. It's a fearless example of people and their attachments to things like country, God, and Mother Nature, all the while showing them as not being simply defined by any of those three elements. There's nuance and specificity, and there's a true melting pot all the way down.
Personally speaking, I was genuinely shaken by how profound the statements from everyday people were, no matter where they were from, where they were going, what they had just heard, or what was on the tips of their tongues. Everything that is spoken is incredibly articulated and soulfully explained. Where the rivers wind, where the toxins float, or where the plants grow, there's someone with something to add to the continuing discussion of humanity and home. Something beautiful, this is.
There was an expectation that American Dendrite would finish, once it reached New Orleans, on a note of optimism, or at least resiliency in the face of near insurmountable climate and economic odds. Instead, there are two incredibly emotional and punishing statements on migration and destruction. It is only when the movie reaches the Gulf itself that its thesis is revealed, and how our lives are contrasted to the water and to the Earth, from the perspectives of past, present, and future. Of time, which is running out or plenty of, depending on how things are seen by any one person.
As far as I can see, water remains a scary thing. It's a pool that I get nervous about looking into, and thus looking into myself. But the calmness can't be beat. The stillness can't be disturbed. The convenience can't be taken for granted. American Dendrite soaks in the dialogue and comes up for an air of humility.
Everything is appreciated, nothing is forgotten. 5/5
Stay tuned for review pack 2.