PARK CITY – PARK CITY – The logline for Sierra Falconer’s “Sunfish (& Other Green Lake Stories),” a world premiere at the 2025 Sundance Film Festival, must sound like a snooze. The description of the first story in the official synopsis begins with, “A girl bonds with her grandparents through sailing and birding.” In prose, that’s hardly a scintillating sell. And yet, these four stories set on Green Lake, a peaceful body of water in Michigan, mark the debut of a filmmaker seemingly wise beyond her years. A director who has found a way to capture a lake-side community and let it utterly captivate you.
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“Sunfish,” the first of the four tales, finds Lu (Maren Heary) unexpectedly dumped at her grandparent’s lake house while her mother goes on an unexpected honeymoon. Compounding Lu’s discomfort is that this teenager doesn’t know her relatives very well at all. Nan (Marceline Hugot) and Pop (Adam LeFevre), spend their days birdwatching at the shore. They had no idea their daughter was dropping Lu off for (seemingly) weeks, but they are loving and, most importantly, patient with her. When Lu discovers Pop’s little used sunfish, a single-person sailboat, she becomes fixated on learning how to sail. A fascination Pop immediately recognizes.
Lu’s curiosity about a “rich kids” camp at the north end of the lake transitions “Sunfish” to the second chapter, “Summer-Camp” where another quiet teen, Jun (Jim Kaplan), is on a mission. Under tremendous pressure from his parents, he spends his entire waking moments rehearsing for the first-position violin chair. He is so hard on himself, that he stabs the top of his foot with his bow in frustration after every missed note, causing it to bleed. Jun barely says a word to anyone, not to himself, not to the other music students frolicking in the lake, or even a counselor. And yet, in just a few short minutes, Falconer (and, frankly, Kaplan) will have you on pins and needles whether he meets his goal.
The adults take center stage in “Two Hearted,” a chapter that is as close to action-packed as Falconer is going to get. Annie (Karsen Liotta), is a single mom just trying to survive as a waitress at a popular Green Lake bar. During a fill-in shift, she overhears a regular, Finn (Dominic Bogart), telling his buddies about the gigantic fish he’s just seen in the lake. He’s slightly obsessed with going back out and reeling it in before anyone else does. Even if he’s flat broke with no means to do so. There is a spark between the pair and they unexpectedly embark on the closest thing to a Bonnie and Clyde adventure this lake has seen in decades. It’s the sort of escapade that will be exaggerated into a tall tale sooner rather than later.
The final story, “Resident-Bird,” may or may not be the most autobiographical for Falconer, but it certainly feels like it is. Two sisters, Blue Jay (Tenley Kellogg) and Robin (Emily Hall) take care of their family’s lakeside home which their busy father (Craig Nigh), rents out to respective lodgers. The girls cook the lodger’s meals, clean their rooms, and entertain them if they want to be entertained. When a Chicago family shows up on Robin’s last weekend before returning to college, Blue Jay is conflicted between her infatuation with Henry (Ethan Studdard) and spending as much time with her sister as possible.
One reason why “Green Lake” is such an exceptional feature debut is Falconer’s ability to convey so much, by saying so little. There is too much to spoil, and some revelations are so subtle audiences may miss them, but Finn? Frankly, he may not have much time left. And he doesn’t have to spit it out in needless exposition. He says one thing. He gives Annie one look, and she knows. Falconer handles the moment masterfully.
Moreover, this is a movie that breathes. Falconer and cinematographer Marcus Patterson capture the lyrical, peaceful quality of this community exquisitely. The effect is so enticing you can almost feel the breeze coming off the lake yourself. And the collective result is a series of sublime portraits that may somehow restore your faith in humanity (something many of us may need these days). That may sound like hyperbolic exaggeration, but it’s hard to recall a movie that leaves you with this feeling of genuine hope. And from a film about people simply living their lives around a lake over one summer, no less.
Granted, could one or two of the stories make for stand-alone films? Sure. Does maybe one of the tales fit less than the others? Sure. But Falconer’s vision is simply a lyrical gem of a movie. You don’t want it to end because the experience reminds you of a better place. A more peaceful, everyday world. Is that only in the past? Can that be today? Can that be the future? We’re not even sure Falconer knows, but after experiencing “Green Lake,” we’re hoping she has more unique cinematic compositions in her back pocket somewhere. And they are as wonderfully humane. [A-/B+]
Check out the latest reviews from the 2025 Sundance Film Festival and The Playlist’s complete coverage from Park City here.