Sundance 2025: Sabar Bonda (Cactus Pears), DJ Ahmet, André Is an Idiot | Festivals & Awards

Unlike the rest of the dispatches I’ve written out of Sundance, the selections here are not defined by their competitive category. This one is a little bit more of a hodgepodge. “Sabar Bonda (Cactus Pears)” and “DJ Ahmet,” for instance, are from the World Dramatic section, while “André Is an Idiot” premiered as part of the US Documentary competition. I should’ve been mixing it up from the beginning because, in my opinion, the trio of films here are the strongest I’ve written about all fest.

A sensual, tender queer romance, writer/director Rohan Kanawade’s semi-autobiographical feature debut “Sabar Bonda (Cactus Pears)” sees love grow from death. Following the passing of his father (Aksel Mehmet), Anand (Bhushaan Manoj) returns from Mumbai to his small Indian village for ten days of mourning. While there he rekindles his relationship with his childhood friend Bayla (Suraaj Suman). The Marathi-language film takes place over ten days, with hard fade to blacks delineating the passage of time. Over the days we learn, other than his mother (Jayshri Jagtap) and deceased father, that few in the village know Anand is gay. To explain his bachelor life, his parents cooked up a story about Anand still grieving an unfaithful woman as the reason for not marrying. Bayla, on the other hand, continues to ignore a marriage proposal from the friend of his sister. The bid to avoid an arranged marriage is one of the many similarities the men share.

In “Sabar Bonda” exist several collisions: rural versus urban, tradition versus modernity, love versus sacrifice. As part of the mourning ritual, Anand must physically, emotionally and spiritually conform too. And as the days progress, Anand carves space outside of the village’s religious and cultural institution by spending time with Bayla. 

The sensual romance shared by Anand and Bayla is defined by brief touches, such the slow tousle of hair or a finger rubbing a leg that seemingly contain entire worlds. Their deep, wanting glances and erotic brushes bloom into an overwhelming passion for one another. The warmth of the photography caresses their skin with equal adoration, and the brevity of the days—which play like chapters—quickens one’s anticipation. Kanawade also wields extreme close-ups and long takes to absorb the eros inherent in each furtive glance shared by Anand and Bayla. 

“Sabar Bonda” doesn’t really feature charged arguments, major monologues or the threat of violence. Its rolling rhythms offer a delightfully sweet love story rendered with the heat of the heart. 

Similar to “Sabar Bonda” (Cactus Pear),” writer/director Georgi M. Unkovski’s freeing, music-infused coming-of-age story “DJ Ahmet” is a film about young people in a remote village bucking against tradition. Like “Sabar Bonda,” Unkovski’s film is also incited by the sudden death of a loved one. In this case, the mother of Ahmet (Arif Jakup) and Naim (Agush Agushev) has recently passed. Since her death, Naim hasn’t spoken and Ahmet daydreams of escaping the confines of their rural existence. Ahmet finds an outlet for his fantasies when he stumbles upon a late-night rave, where he loses a sheep from his herd in the process, thereby incurring the wrath of his grieving father. While there he also catches sight of his neighbor Aya (Dora Akan Zlatanova), who also looks toward dance and music to liberate herself from the grim prospects of an arranged marriage. 

In the story of these rebellious young people, who retrofit a tractor into a mobile boombox, “DJ Ahmet” draws significant parallels to the film “Footloose,” another work that made the power of a big beat a moment of defiance. These kids sneak off from their parents, sometimes in the dead of night, to discover themselves in the booming neon glow of the darkness. In this singular pursuit, which turns tradition into laughs—such as the mosque’s loudspeakers glitching out to Window XP sounds—all of the children emerge as standouts. The weathered, freckled-faced Jakup is especially wonderful as the quietly resistant Ahmet. These are kids who you believe have lived a working life, who you believe have needed to pull their own weight. And yet, you never forget they’re kids, especially as they twirl and spin to the levitating energy of the music. 

Unkovski’s sense of visual storytelling is as playful as the children. He thoughtfully uses the negative space of the landscape, opting for low horizons to envelop these kids in the verdant splendor of their North Macedonian setting. He often cuts to a group of women, whose faces we never really see, as a kind of Greek chorus commenting on the travails of Ahmet and Aya as they prepare for a local festival where Aya and her friends are hoping to compete as a dance troupe. Between the blurring brass score and the fist-pumping techno tracks, which crescendo into an explosive ending that appears to rebalance Ahmet’s world, the revolution in “DJ Ahmet” is thumping.  

One of two Sundance documentaries about creatives grappling with their cancer diagnosis, the other being Ryan White’s “Come See Me in the Good Light,” Tony Benna’s A24 produced film “André is an Idiot” takes a surprising tonal path for the story of the late André Ricciardi. Part public service announcement, the film, which follows André’s fight with stage IV colon cancer, is an irreverent discussion about learning to face one’s mortality with levity. indeed, the film can best be described as being funny, until it’s not. 

André’s big personality is enough to keep the grim reality of his impending death at bay for much of the documentary. Benna spends the first quarter of the film diving into André’s distinct past. André met his Canadian wife Janice in a San Francisco bar, where she was a bartender. They didn’t go on any dates before marrying. Rather their union was inspired by Janice needing a green card, and André being the only person insane enough to volunteer (at the time, both he and Janice were dating other people). They eventually fell in love, having two daughters, Tallula and Delilah, who are now teenagers. André later found a career as an ad guy, creating tv spots like the Ozzy Osbourne Brisk Ice Tea claymation spoofs. Throughout his entire life, however, André has distrusted two things: cops and doctors. It’s the latter, following his refusal to get a colonoscopy with his best friend Tim, that comes back to bite. 

André’s diagnosis is terminal; there is no doubt he will die. The question becomes how long he can extend his life, and how he will choose to face his final days. He provides an open door for viewers to see his progress and decline: doctor visits, diet changes, and lots of lots of weed. André remains upbeat, not only because he is naturally puckish, but also because he doesn’t want his daughters to know just how serious his diagnosis is. This is a film featuring a subject who is constantly trying to balance the fine line between hope and denial. It’s revealing to see how his denial takes shape, primarily in André’s interest in life-extending treatments: cryogenics, head transplants, and a dash of AI that arrives at the end of the film. 

To be sure, there are plenty of self-deprecating jokes André makes. But that doesn’t mean sincerity doesn’t hug every corner of “André is an Idiot.” It’s a genuinely life-affirming film that not only pushes you to get a colonoscopy. But it also teaches you how to go into that dark night armed with a chuckle.