‘Sunfish (& Other Stories On Green Lake)’ Review – Sierra Falconer’s Incredible Debut Feels Like Going Home [Sundance 2025]

If an opening scene is intended to set the tone for a movie, Sunfish (& Other Stories On Green Lake) nails the assignment on every front. First-time feature director Sierra Falconer introduces us to the titular Michigan lake first through its avian creatures, and then the nearby humans peacefully observing the wonders of nature. Veteran character actors Marceline Hugot and Adam LeFevre are the closest the film has to movie stars, but even these two inhabiting married birdwatchers feel as if they have been one with the landscape for eons. The exchanges are playful but gentle as the two spot a rare bird amongst the sun-dappled water. The stakes could not be lower, yet Falconer keeps you hanging on every word through her confidence in grounding you in a specific time and place. Sunfish not only reveals its secrets to the audience, it allows you to experience it as one of the lakeside inhabitants.

As you may divine from the title, Sunfish (& Other Stories On Green Lake) is an anthology film. The appeal of making an anthology film is clear for a new filmmaker, as it gives you the freedom to explore many different ideas without the pressure of a single one needing to fill a feature runtime. One could crudely say it is an opportunity for an artist to string a bunch of ideas for short films into a more accessible format, but that never feels to be the case with Falconer’s debut. Each of the four major chapters stands as its own little slice of life without character overlap, but everything feels tonally of one heart and mind. Each piece feels like a recalled memory that hints at the timeless nature of the natural environment. 

As enjoyable as an anthology film can be, embarking upon one is always a case of high risk and high reward. Horror is a notable genre for the format with franchises such as Creepshow and V/H/S proving to be a great playground for filmmakers. You also have more auteur-driven visions such as The French Dispatch that lean closer to the approach from Falconer. Even in the best anthology films, you typically have some weak spots that have you itching to get to the next story. Sunfish is one of the rare examples where we would not excise a single moment from the proceedings. At just under 90 minutes, the film is allowed to be relaxed without becoming an endurance test. 

The closest this film comes to losing steam is in the second installment, “Summer Camp”. The shortest of the four stories, this outing takes the action away from the lake for longer stretches and explores the music camp that resides on the lake for young prodigies hoping to shape their futures. Burgeoning talent Jim Kaplan (The Holdovers) capably embodies a skilled musician who is feeling the pressure to be the best without understanding how to switch into “normal” kid mode. The idea of the lake means something slightly different in each short saga, and not all of these stories leave you on a definitively joyful note. The movie embraces the messiness of life in all of its joy and pain. 

The film is at its best when we are at the bookends. Fittingly, the initial entry “Sunfish” wrestles with beginnings in the form of an overlooked teen spending meaningful time with her grandparents for the first time and discovering new passions. The closing chapter “Resident Bird” is about endings, or, more specifically, saying goodbye. Here we find two sisters spending their final moments together running a bed-and-breakfast before the eldest leaves for college. Both of these are highly emotional for different reasons, but they are equally effective because the stories feel genuine. These are not dramatic tales cranked up to eleven to manipulate every last emotion–even in her early career, Falconer is too smart for that. These stories harness their power through being relatably low-key. 

The greatest compliment we can pay to Sierra Falconer and her amazing debut is that it makes someone who ostensibly loathes summer long to be lakeside in this deftly realized world. It is not due to the weather, though; Sunfish feels like childhood. It is the feeling of going to a cousin’s house and forgetting that time exists. It is the feeling of knowing your grandparents are going to have the orange push-up ice cream treats in the garage freezer when you arrive. In an era when studios manipulate audiences with manufactured nostalgia in every blockbuster, Sunfish evokes nostalgia in the purest sense. Even when the events on screen are not joyful, this film is always a joy to watch. With such an assured and inspiring debut under her belt, we cannot wait to see what Sierra Falconer does next. 

Sunfish (& Other Stories On Green Lake) had its World Premiere in the U.S. Dramatic Competition section of the 2025 Sundance Film Festival.

Director: Sierra Falconer

Writer: Sierra Falconer

Rated: NR

Runtime: 87m