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Film Inquiry was lucky enough to be on the ground at this year’s SXSW, and we’ve got a lot of coverage.
Sometimes, you’ll be lucky as a film critic to view a film and just know that you saw something special. It’s a wonderful and fulfilling feeling. At this year’s fest, I definitely had it.
With my first selection of films I cover a spectrum of genre: horror, sci-fi and dark comedy with each providing something truly original.
Good Boy (Ben Leonberg)
Good Boy (2025)- source: SXSW Film Festival
As a horror fan and a dog lover, I’m always pleased to see a film that keeps this treasured pet alive. But, what if there was more? Something new and exciting?
Ben Leonberg’s Good Boy is that. It is a haunting, unconventional horror that invites us into a world seen entirely through the eyes of Indy, a curious canine whose every gesture reveals the dark secrets lurking in the shadows. And let me say, this dog is talented. He provided one of the best performances I have seen this year.
When Todd (Shane Jensen) retreats to his dilapidated family cabin after a health scare, he steps into a realm where ghosts seemingly lurk around every corner. Except, they are perceived by none other than Indy, who is attuned to things us humans would probably overlook. With this concept, Leonberg establishes a true terror, one that is not in what we are shown, but in what Indy observes. This makes it a palpable and unique experience.
The film’s commitment to maintaining Indy’s perspective is something to admire. By keeping the camera at his eye level, Leonberg not only accentuates the vast, foreboding quality of the world around him but also magnifies the emotional stakes. Every hesitant head tilt, every cautious step, speaks volumes about the unspoken bond between pets and their humans. Haven’t we all had this feeling? That moment where we wondered what exactly our pet was seeing?
It is a connection so profound that it hints at an unseen reality that we, as mere mortals, might never fully grasp. Good Boy transcends the boundaries of a simple ghost story; it is a meditation on vulnerability, loyalty, and the delicate interplay between our known world and the spectral unknown.
In doing so, Good Boy resonates. Long after the credits have rolled, you’ll be considering the quiet observations of our own four-legged companions. Ben Leonberg has captured lightening in a bottle with Good Boy (and with the talented boy: Indy).
Redux Redux (Kevin and Matthew McManus)
Redux, Redux (2025)- source: SXSW Film Festival
Redux Redux kicks off with a bang that’ll jolt you and never let up.
This sci-fi revenge saga strips away the glitter of typical multiverse spectacles to reveal a raw, personal exploration of grief and retribution. Though this is a common theme in film, when it is done well, it stands out. And, Redux, Redux, is one of the best films to come out of this year’s SXSW.
Directed by Kevin and Matthew McManus, it finds it’s heart in Irene (Michaela McManus), a woman whose life has been consumed by a singular, unyielding purpose: to avenge the murder of her daughter. That alone is a devastating conceit. Who wants to relive that pain, even in the face of vengeance? Redux, Redux presents this in a new and provocative lens.
Using a mysterious machine to traverse endless timelines, Irene hunts down the man (Jeremy Holm) responsible, executing him repeatedly in countless realities. Each act of violence is a desperate attempt to fill the void left by loss, yet no matter how many versions of her enemy she dispatches, the emptiness inside her only deepens. This take allows a blend of action horror and sci-fi to craft a curious and powerful concoction. It also simmers with an emotional intensity that is driven by the terrific performances.
Her plans take an unexpected turn when she encounters Mia (Stella Marcus), a resilient 15-year-old runaway who survived one of the tragic attacks. Their tentative connection forces Irene to confront a possibility that had long been buried beneath her obsession: a chance for redemption and healing. This shift is handled with subtlety, as the film refrains from heavy exposition. Instead, the McManus Brothers let fleeting moments of detail (small technological quirks and unspoken temporal rules) create a textured, believable multiverse that is as intimate as it is expansive.
At its core, Redux Redux is less about the mechanics of time travel and more a meditation on revenge as an endless, self-perpetuating cycle. Irene’s journey is both an act of retribution and a poignant exploration of how loss can devour one’s humanity. While the film could have probed deeper into the emotional repercussions of such relentless vengeance, especially regarding the absence of a fully realized connection to her daughter, it still manages to resonate deeply. It’s a film that challenges its audience with its thought-provoking narrative while also entertaining.
The Mermaid (Tyler Cornack)
Mermaid (2025)- source: SXSW Film Festival
Tyler Cornack’s newest, the bizarrely twisted Mermaid, somehow manages to take itself seriously no matter how strange the story gets. A fairy tale this is not, but it’s his best film yet.
Doug (Johnny Pemberton) life is circling the drain. He’s broke, strung out on drugs, despised by his ex-wife, and in deep with some very dangerous people. His enforcer Ron (Robert Patrick) isn’t exactly the patient type. With no way out and no hope left, he stumbles upon something that feels miraculous: an injured mermaid washed up just off the Florida coast. He hauls it back to shore, convinced he can somehow use it to dig himself out of the wreckage of his life. But what starts as exploitation turns to obsessive lengths. Eventually, Doug will do anything to protect his monstrous new love.
And I mean monstrous. This isn’t the kind of mermaid we are often shown in films. Mermaids are usually ethereal and beautiful. This mermaid is nightmare fuel: grotesquely weird and reptilian like. Cornack‘s version flips the script on any expectations you may have and creates a wickedly dark and bold film.
Mermaid twists fantasy and thriller into something often hilarious, unsettling, and occasionally heartbreaking. Cornack‘s love of Florida is inherently evident as he crafts this visual homage to the state. At 105 minutes, the film overstays its welcome a bit, but what succeeds works. Doug’s increasingly off the wall relationship with his mermaid delivers some of the best absurdist comedy in recent memory. Pemberton’s casting is spot-on; no one plays a clueless, well-meaning idiot quite like him. He wants to do the right thing, but he has absolutely no idea what that means. And when you throw something fantastical into the mix it becomes pure chaos.
The supporting cast is equally strong. Kirk Fox shines as a sleazy club owner who delights in making Doug miserable, and both Kevin Dunn and Avery Potemri are fantastic, but it’s Robert Patrick who stands out.
A strange fusion of crime thriller and surrealist comedy, Mermaid is destined to be divisive. But, love it or hate it you can’t ignore the sheer audacity at play and admire this funky amalgamation. For those who get on its wavelength, there’s nothing else quite like it. Mermaid is
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