- Ebertfest Announces Expanded Lineup, Special Guests, and Final Festival Programming for “The Last Dance” Edition (March 24, 2026)
Roger Ebert’s Film Festival, widely known as Ebertfest, has announced additional programming, special guests, and updated film selections for its 27th and final edition, “The Last Dance,” taking place April 17–18, 2026, in Champaign, IL. Presented by Century Law Firm, this milestone year marks a poignant farewell to one of the most beloved film festivals in the country, celebrating a legacy rooted in empathy, storytelling, and the communal power of cinema.
In tribute to Roger Ebert and his enduring commitment to championing bold, personal filmmaking, the festival will also screen Chili Finger, a dark comedy set in and around Ebert’s hometown. When Jessica Lipki discovers a severed finger in her chili, she seizes the chance to blackmail a fast-food chain only to attract dangerous attention .Directed by Edd Benda and Stephen Helstad, the film stars Judy Greer, John Goodman, Sean Astin, Bryan Cranston, and Madeline Wise. Greer and Goodman will be in attendance for a live Q&A following the screening.
Jordan Peele’s Academy Award-winning thriller Get Out will screen as part of the program, with special guest Lil Rel Howery in attendance. The film follows Chris, who accompanies his girlfriend Rose for a weekend visit to meet her parents, only to uncover a series of increasingly disturbing revelations that lead to a shocking and horrifying truth. Directed and written by Jordan Peele, the film stars Daniel Kaluuya, Allison Williams, Bradley Whitford, Catherine Keener, and Caleb Landry Jones.
Continuing its tradition of spotlighting films grounded in humanity and emotional connection, the festival will present a screening of Bob Trevino Likes It, the critically acclaimed feature from writer-director Tracie Laymon. The film stars Barbie Ferreira and John Leguizamo, alongside French Stewart, Rachel Bay Jones, and Lolo Spencer. Inspired by a true story, the film follows Lily Trevino, a young woman navigating abandonment and emotional isolation, who forms an unexpected and transformative friendship with a stranger online. Laymon and Stewart will attend the festival for a post-screening Q&A.
Additional programming highlights include Charliebird, marking the feature directorial debut of Libby Ewing, from a script by Samantha Smart, who also stars and produces. The film follows a music therapist who forms an unexpected bond with a young patient, unlocking the buried grief of her past in a journey of connection, loss, and healing. Smart will attend as a special guest. The film is presented in partnership with the Alliance for Inclusion and Respect.
The festival will also showcase Mi Familia, the landmark multigenerational drama from Gregory Nava, who returns to the festival as a special guest for the third time, having previously participated in a Selena screening in 2018 and the 2019 Chaz and Roger Ebert Symposium focused on Latinx representation. The film tells the story of a second-generation Mexican immigrant who narrates his family history, beginning with the journey of his father, Jose, across Mexico to Los Angeles where he meets Maria and starts a family. Each subsequent generation contends with political and social hardships, ranging from illegal deportations in the 1940s to racial tensions and gang conflicts in the 1960s and 1970s. Yet through it all, the family remains strong, bound together by resilience, love, and shared history. The film stars Jimmy Smits, Esai Morales, Jennifer Lopez, Edward James Olmos, and Constance Marie, with narration by Olmos.
The Last Movie Critic, directed and written by Luke Boyce and Michael Moreci, with Jennifer Shelby serving as Executive Producer and Chaz Ebert, Nate Kohn, and Brett Hays producing, will screen at Ebertfest as a special local tie and tribute to Roger Ebert. The film is a documentary portrait of Ebert—not just the critic, but the idea he became. Through the voices of filmmakers he championed and the words he left behind, it explores how one man’s deep and abiding love for cinema became a gift to audiences everywhere, serving as a celebration of movies, empathy, and the belief that what we watch together can make us more human.
Rounding out the lineup is a special presentation of The General, the silent-era masterpiece starring Buster Keaton. One of the most revered comedies of the silent era, the film follows Southern railroad engineer Johnny Gray, who must pursue Union soldiers after his train—and his beloved Annabelle Lee—are taken during the Civil War, leading to a series of inventive and daring comedic set pieces. The screening will be accompanied by a live performance from The Anvil Orchestra, offering audiences a rare opportunity to experience the film as it was originally intended.
“This festival has always been about celebrating the power of film to bring us together. To inspire empathy, spark conversation, and remind us of our shared humanity,” said Chaz Ebert, co-founder of Ebertfest. “Roger believed deeply in the movies as a bridge between people, and I think he would be so pleased to see that spirit carried forward for 27 years. As we take this final bow, we do so with immense gratitude for the artists, the audiences, and the community that made Ebertfest what it is.”
The final edition of Ebertfest will spotlight headline talent alongside their films, elevating the overall impact and creating a more dynamic experience for both audiences and press. Renowned organist Dr. Steven Ball also returns, bringing his signature musical interludes between screenings With a carefully curated lineup that reflects its founding principles, “The Last Dance” promises to be a meaningful and celebratory sendoff to nearly three decades of championing great storytelling.
Ebertfest passes are currently available for purchase online or by calling the Virginia Theatre box office at 217-356-9063. An Individual Reserved Seating Festival Pass, which includes admission to all films, is $150 plus a $9.00 processing fee per pass. A Reserved 1-Day Festival Pass is available for $75.00 plus a $6.00 processing fee. Individual Reserved Seating Tickets are $20.00 plus a $3.00 processing fee per ticket. Individual film tickets will go on sale April 1, 2026 at 10:00 a.m.
Roger Ebert was a Pulitzer Prize-winning film critic for the Chicago Sun-Times, University of Illinois journalism alumnus, and Urbana native.
Chaz Ebert is also the author of the indie bestseller It’s Time to Give A FECK: Elevating Humanity through Forgiveness, Empathy, Compassion, and Kindness.
Ebertfest is hosted by Chaz Ebert and Nate Kohn, the festival director since the very beginning.
To become a supporting Festival Sponsor please contact Sonia Evans – sonia@ebertdigital.com.
For additional information, please visit https://ebertfest.com/ and follow us on social media:
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- SXSW 2026: Crash Land, The Fox, Love Language (March 24, 2026)
There has been substantial ink spilled on the typical “Sundance Movie”. Having attended SXSW for several years now, I’ve found that trying to typecast films emblematic of the Film and TV Festival is much harder.
The three films in this dispatch are perhaps the best sample size of what I might call the typical “SXSW” movie. That’s a compliment, as each of these visions plays with form and genre in ways I find wholly interesting, bending the rules of convention just enough to be interesting while offering enough familiar story beats to make them digestible.
Ultimately, it’s their inventive filmmaking and commitment to the silly and sentimental that make them most appropriate for premieres at these festivals. They’re all, in some form, about navigating the hardships of love, be it that between friends, partners, or loved ones, but they’re also united by a hard truth that gives them more emotional heft. Secrecy and lies can destroy and build a relationship, and each film makes the case for where suppression might just be one of the most loving dispositions one can take.
One of the most impressive features of director Dempsey Bryk’s “Crash Land” is the way it summons feelings of melancholy out of scenarios that, for all intents and purposes, should be riotous. It’s a unique type of skill to exorcise despondency from a story about three wannabe stuntmen who wish to create a film to honor the life of one of their fallen friends, but it’s a testament to Byrk’s skill. The noblest of pursuits can serve as masks for deeper pain, and the release of long-gestating secrets can be both painful and cleansing. His film embraces all of those registers to propulsive effect, and is a lively, touching story of friends who have to contend with the seasonality of their friendships.
We meet aforementioned wannabe stuntmen, Clay (Noah Parker), Lance (Gabriel LaBelle), and Sander (Finn Wolfhard), as they reel from the loss of their fourth Musketeer, Darby (Billy Bryk), who suffered a brain aneurysm shortly after completing a daredevil stunt that may or may not have involved a bicycle and a flaming tire. Determined to honor his legacy, the trio set out to make a movie in Darby’s memory, serving as a showcase of his most impressive work.
It chafes against the buttoned-up members of the town, who wish to remember Darby differently and who view the boy’s stunts as a nuisance. The boys recruit Jemma (Abby Quinn) as their lead actress, and as they work on their project (“A real movie … like with words,” Lance says excitedly), the act of creation unearths latent emotions they all hold about masculinity, friendship, and identity. Art has a way of doing that to you.
It’s evident that the boys struggle to articulate how meaningful Darby was to them, and rather than risk feeling the fullness of their emotions, they try to bury them through stunt work. Byrk and co-writer Ben Snider-McGrath allow the boys’ awareness of their own avoidance to take shape naturally; it’s understandable that, at their age, they find it easier to endure splinters and sprains than an emotional rupture. It showcases how the physical connections young men primarily engage in can make them feel both close and isolated.
Abby Quinn is a delight in everything she’s in, and her effusive charm is at its highest powers here. She acts as the film’s truth teller, the one who questions the relentless drive of men around her and invites them to tap into the pain they are trying desperately to flee from. Her firm conviction and yet soft-spoken voice disarm easy avoidance. Cinematographer Kristofer Bonnell shoots much of the film with a handheld camera, in a meta way, mimicking the home video that group is trying to make, but it also makes everything that unfolds feel much more intimate, like this is the last hurrah of a friend group that may never speak again.
“Crash Land” taps into a unique type of disruption: the moment when we realize that not all relationships are meant to last, and that being best friends forever with someone is a shorter time than we may think. That’s not to say that the time spent with people doesn’t matter, but at the age of Lance, Clay, Sander, and Jemma, relationships matter because of their eternal nature. There’s a safety in knowing someone will always have your back or that you can call someone no matter the time or season. “Crash Land” celebrates how we grow in and out of relationships, and that sometimes moving on from people isn’t indicative of our immaturity but a sign that we’re growing and changing. If we’re blessed, our growing can encompass the stories of those who have been with us since day 1.
Dario Russo’s “The Fox” can boast of featuring one of Jai Courtney‘s most normal performances, but the film around him is anything but. A twisty, witchy tale about a marital relationship gone awry, it mines discomforting gasps and full-bellied laughs in equal measure from unrealistic and oppressive expectations couples often place on each other. It’s inventive in its savagery, almost always perturbing, but succeeds at the kind of absurd genre blend that made Yorgos Lanthimos a household name.
It’s always more interesting to me when characters start from a place of belief in the fantastical and spiritual. Thankfully, that’s the case with “The Fox,” where it’s a given that wild animals can communicate with humans directly. It’s a world where magpies try to trade gossip they hear for chicken, or, in the case of Courtney’s Nick, where a fox tries to get her life spared by offering a solution to relationship problems. In a wordless opening scene, we see Nick propose to his partner, Kori (Emily Browning), and the two aren’t on different pages as much as Nick is watching a movie and Kori is reading a book. Nick proposes to Kori with the pre-loaded confidence that she’ll accept, and Kori’s expression is one of surprise and horror. She agrees to an unknowing Nick, and the film flashes forward to further on in their lives.
The dissonance between them hasn’t disappointed so much as it has widened in scope. Kori engages in an on-and-off affair with her co-worker Derek (Damon Herriman), and Nick is despondent when he learns of it. A fox Nick captures later that night (voiced by Olivia Colman) tells him that if he lets her go, she can help Kori come back to him. All Nick has to do is push Kori into a magic hole in the forest, which Nick does. The Kori that emerges from the hole is much more obsequious than prior, attentive to each need, sexual or emotional, that Nick has.
It’s not hard to see what Russo is critiquing here: the expectations we place on our partners to be perfect and the ways men, in particular, use dissatisfaction as an excuse to lord it over their significant others. Still, it’s a wicked romp that comments on how small towns can enable patterns of abuse. The town in which the drama takes place is the sort where everyone knows each other, one that prioritizes the proximity of relationships over truth-telling. It’s liberating to see Kori (all versions of her) come to the fact that the problem is not her but the environment around her that’s shaming her for not being subservient.
Of note is the score, which Russo also developed. The town’s safety is always in question due to its spectral notes, which incorporate animal wails and other sounds in terrifying ways. Even in moments of tranquility, there’s a sense that a beast may enter the frame at any moment.
It’s been a long time since Chloë Grace Moretz has graced the screen in a lead role like the type she takes on in director Joey Powers’ Chicago-set “Love Language.” Her return is a welcome one for this winsome rom-com about learning to love who and what is in front of you, “what if” scenarios be damned. While the film often tries to make grandiose statements about love and relationships at the expense of fully formed characters, it takes the angst and wrestling of the people in this story seriously. There’s a realism to its plot beats, which eschew the type of overwrought developments that might classify other films in its genre. After all, there’s enough insanity in real life to draw from.
Moretz plays Lou, an author whose career has peaked with her writing social media copy for a tortilla chip company. After writing the vows at the wedding for her best friend, Tilda (Billie Lourd), many are impressed with Lou’s pen, and she quickly builds a side hustle writing wedding vows for couples who “want to say something worthy of [their] love” for their fiancé, but struggle to distill how.
To complicate matters, at the start of the film, we see Lou get dumped by the man she thought she would marry, and she grapples with the irony of living a loveless life while supporting herself financially by scribing romantic declarations. When she’s tasked with writing the vows for Olivia (Isabel May), Lou realizes that her client is marrying a college crush, Warren (Manny Jacinto). To complicate matters, Lou becomes romantically involved with Dash (Anthony Ramos) and struggles with whether to commit fully to him or rekindle what she and Warren weren’t able to consummate earlier.
Consider the way Powers and Cinematographer Andrew Wehde capture Chicago and fold its rhythms into the story’s drama. Some are a bit too overt in comparison to the relative restraint the film itself shows overall (a giant “Chicago Tribune” greets us in the first few frames of the movie), but overall, the film understands Chicago’s intimacy and scope, how one can feel alone in large crowds and fully seen in the underpass of the Wabash station.
While not as busy as a city like New York, there’s a sense that you have to bend and move with the city; life gets complicated through logistics, and the film acts as a celebration of that. A firm sense of place gives life to the drama we see on-screen. More often than not, we don’t get to take our mistakes back, but occasionally, we’re given the grace for a do-over. That may not happen in every city or stage of life, but for a place like Chicago, the film lovingly and slyly suggests it’s more common than you might think.
- SXSW 2026: baby/girls, Manhood, Drift (March 23, 2026)
A line I keep close to my heart, and one I’ve been asking talent on red carpets and junkets, revolves around Roger’s famous words that movies are empathy machines. When I’ve asked this question, I’m always fascinated by the array of responses I hear. Rarely is one answer the same, and the multiplicity has reminded me that any movie can be an empathy machine, from the works of Lee Chang-dong to “Better Man.”
The documentary films in this dispatch embody this sentiment; where they could have just been sensationalized stories, they are instead projects that present their subjects with grace and understanding. They are radical exercises in empathy for communities that need care and ultimately have to find their own way to save themselves amid a system that has overlooked them.
Alyse Walsh and Jackie Jesko’s “baby/girls” takes an approach to its subject material that’s simultaneously limiting and delicate. Filmed over two years, the films document the lives of Olivia, Grace, and Ariana, teen moms living in Arkansas who wrestle with the reality of raising children in the aftermath of the Dobbs decision. The girls are based in a Christian maternity home in Arkansas called Compassion House.
It’s a sobering, heartbreaking story of young motherhood, one that acts as a celebration of its subjects for ways they embody grace under pressure, but it’s also a caustic critique of the failure of systems in place to help people like these girls; it’s far easier to treat what happens with Olivia, Grace, and Ariana as anomalies and there’s less urgency to offer aid or fix a system just for the sake of what happens outside the margins. Hopefully, the reach of “baby/girls” can go far and wide, showcasing that the struggles these girls face need to be addressed urgently for present and future generations.
The camerawork in “baby/girls” is one of the key markers that make this story feel grounded in its subjects’ perspective. It’s a film that never loses sight of the difficulty we’re observing as children learn to raise children, and of the struggle to live a normal teenage life while also bearing the responsibilities of motherhood. It’s gut-wrenching to watch, if only because we feel these girls shouldn’t have to deal with such questions so early on. But they all speak with refreshing candor, a testament to the safe environment the directors cultivated while filming. The girls are willing to joke about their situation and offer asides that frankly, I’m surprised to hear, given how vulnerable such statements are.
The film is also willing to give kindness when the girls make decisions that seem ethically uncomfortable, such as one who considers giving up their child for adoption because the strain of motherhood is too much. It’s moments like these where “baby/girls” is the strongest; as viewers, we’re invited not to the dogpile in shame but to offer care and to ask about how the system, which already fails women, is responsible for creating environments where moms feel as though they have to deal with issues on their own.
Notably, the main critique that “baby/girls” gives space for is the ways the education system has failed adolescents. “I learned about sex ed when I was seven months pregnant,” one of the girls said. Furthermore, rising daycare costs mean girls aren’t able to pursue their own vocations as they may want to, so they have to rely on family support, some of whom judge them harshly. It’s powerful to witness the girls, despite their hardships, articulating a tangible hope that one doesn’t often think about when choices are limited. Olivia, Grace, and Ariana refuse to believe their stories are written, even if the world around them is all too tempted to.
There’s a line in Eva Victor’s “Sorry, Baby” that came to mind while watching director Daniel Lombroso’s “Manhood.” In the scene in question, Lydie (Naomi Ackie) and Agnes (Victor) humorously discuss the things men say during sex. “Their dick is their whole self,” Lydie says wryly.
While I initially felt that line was a well-written joke when I first saw the film, watching “Manhood” has unlocked a whole new layer to those words. It follows multiple stories of men who receive penis enlargement procedures and the emotional and physical lead-up time and fallout of their decision. By shedding light on a taboo subject, Lombroso ensures that we can’t easily write off what transpires in haste; it’s far too easy to either shudder at the horror of procedures gone wrong (viewers be warned that some botched work is quite horrific) or poke fun at the men going through these methods.
But Lombroso is far too thoughtful of a filmmaker to settle for shock value; he’s interested in the “why,” both for the film’s main subject, Dallas entrepreneur Bill Moore, who is attempting to make these procedures more commonplace, and the men who feel as though an enlarged penis might just be their salvation. It’s in these dovetailing narratives that “Manhood” settles on something much more surprising and tender: a tale of men learning to love themselves and rid themselves of shame.
Lombroso, to his credit, examines the procedure at multiple levels. There are the messages men receive, from frequent consumption of pornography to targeted advertisements, that tell men that the pinnacle of self-satisfaction they may receive is having an enlarged penis. There are people like Moore, who see insecurity as a potential market and thus offer services. Then there are the men themselves, who decide to spend their money on a procedure simply because it’s available. These all work in tandem. We all wrestle with where to put our rage and shame, and for many, Moore offers a way to offset some of it. It makes one wonder how, in our society, apart from the confession booth, we might create space for people to give voice to their shame and, in doing so, be freed by it.
I ultimately left “Manhood” with more questions, and I’m grateful for the way it galvanized my imagination. Whenever there are procedures like Moore’s available, I’m always more interested in their popularity than in their prevalence. Say what you will about plastic surgery, GLP-1 drugs, or penis enlargement, people clearly come to these procedures to have some need of theirs met; they find that their insecurities and frustrations can be solved in some part through these actions. Ultimately, “Manhood” is interested not just in the procedures but in the questions and wrestlings that lead people to adopt them in the first place. As a doctor says, “I can fill your penis with filler, but I cannot fill the hole in your heart.”
On a larger level, what are we doing to help give space and voice to those who feel out of place and believe that undergoing such a procedure is their only option? Lombroso’s documentary is a way to start that conversation. The film articulates, to my mind, a hopeful vision of masculinity, one where we can truly learn what it means to be content with our bodies and selves, even the parts we find shame in.
Deon Taylor’s “Drift” opens with a bold statement that none of what we see is AI-generated. It’s a grounding way to begin his film, which features stunts and scenarios so breathtaking that it’s hard to believe what we’re seeing. Yet what could have been a highlight reel for its subject, instead dives into exploring deeper questions of the psyche. The subject in focus is Isaac Wright, a photographer and army veteran who gained notoriety for scaling the world’s tallest structures and taking pictures, usually from the POV of his shoes.
The results feel otherworldly, as we see him dangle his feet from the Empire State Building to the Ambassador Bridge. Tracing Wright’s various excursions, Taylor isn’t content with making the film a montage of the daredevil’s greatest hits; he wants to understand what would compel Wright to risk his life and imprisonment.
Through interviews and voiceover, Wright sheds his larger-than-life persona to articulate the traumas that have shaped him and pushed him to try to escape the problems below by climbing above. From abuse to family deaths, there’s much for Wright to be mournful about, and it makes sense why he would choose to spend more time above ground than below it. While there is dedicated time for talking-head interviews, much of the film also consists of steadicam footage as we follow Wright on his climb to his next destination. He reveals a bit more of his backstory each time; we quite literally see his justification for each step that he takes. It manifests in one particularly thrilling sequence in which Wright climbs a building in Cincinnati, and Taylor uses a split screen, interweaving Wright’s escape with scenes of the police chasing him. It’s nail-biting to witness them quite literally close the gap.
It’s also a scathing indictment of the ways this country will continue to fail those who serve in its military. While Wright would have been tried for trespassing regardless, the film mentions how, because of Wright’s military background, he’s viewed as more of a threat and is often pursued and tried as if he were one of America’s most wanted murderers.
Furthermore, Taylor is sure to highlight how race has played a role in the response to Wright’s escapades. One detective, Ruberg, serves as the primary antagonist for most of the film, as he tries his hardest to get Wright convicted in every state where Wright illegally trespassed. Wright is quick to share how at each building where he evaded capture, he was never violent and never found with a weapon. Ruberg tries hard to release a picture of Wright looking as menacing as possible to turn the tide of public perception against Wright.
It’s one of the many ways in which Taylor’s film advocates for the importance of storytelling that goes beyond the headlines we see. It’s easy to typecast Wright in one way after hearing what he does, but Taylor’s work is a powerful antidote to the ways we all too easily typecast people based on the little information we know about them.
“The freedom to express is the greatest freedom that people have.” Above all else, “Drift” is a film that reminds people of that power. We may not express ourselves or deal with our pain through scaling buildings, but there’s something undeniably cathartic and powerful about witnessing someone who feels shackled by life finally get their wings.
- Inaugural FECK Awards to Honor Extraordinary Changemakers in Chicago on April 4th at the Ritz Carlton (March 21, 2026)
I am thrilled to announce that the Inaugural edition of The FECK Awards will be celebrating amazing individuals and/or organizations in Chicago on Saturday, April 4th, who truly embody the principles detailed in my book, It’s Time to Give a FECK: Elevating Humanity Through Forgiveness, Empathy, Compassion and Kindness. The FECK Awards are more than a typical award; they are a call to action, honoring everyday heroes and leaders whose actions are helping to build a more humane, understanding, and compassionate world. We announced the 2026 recipients of these awards, whom we found following a nationwide search. And as an added bonus, we identified Honorable Mentions whose work and deeds were also so impactful we wanted to shine a light on them.
Congratulations to Azim Khamisa and the Tariq Khamisa Foundation from San Diego, California, for embodying the transformative value of FORGIVENESS. After his son Tariq was tragically killed in 1995 during a gang initiation robbery, Azim made the extraordinary choice to forgive the teenage offender responsible. Instead of allowing grief to turn into hatred, Azim partnered with the young man’s grandfather, Ples Felix, to found the Tariq Khamisa Foundation, dedicated to stopping youth violence. For more than three decades, the organization has reached more than two million young people with programs promoting accountability, forgiveness, and nonviolence.
Our recipient whose story exudes the value of EMPATHY is Melvin Parson from Ypsilanti, Michigan (pictured above). He founded the We the People Growers Association and We the People Opportunity Farm, which have transformed lives through urban agriculture and second-chance employment. After experiencing incarceration, homelessness, and addiction earlier in life, Parson built a program that created dignified jobs and workforce training through soil-changing opportunities, growing and selling fresh farm foods and creating the Good Soil Café. This helped formerly incarcerated individuals to foster understanding, opportunity, and healing while reducing recidivism. Just as we were going to inform Mr. Parson about his award, we were informed that he passed away earlier this month on March 5th. His work lives on.
Jayera Griffin of Riverdale, Illinois, is this year’s award recipient best representing the principle of COMPASSION. She began serving her community at just 14 years old by organizing free laundry days so students could have clean clothes for school. Now 22 and graduating from Western Illinois University in 2026 with plans to become an elementary school teacher, Griffin continues to lead initiatives that support and uplift her community, including organizing CPR and AED training for young people, collecting clothing for seniors, and organizing school supply drives and holiday programs for neighborhood families.
Last but certainly not least is our winner who embodies KINDNESS, David Ludlow Jr., of South Elgin, Illinois. He was born with Down Syndrome, and now at age 35, demonstrates the profound impact one person’s generosity can have. Each year, he saves his earnings to purchase toys for his local fire district’s Toys for Tots drive. In 2025 alone, he donated nearly 100 toys, inspiring an outpouring of additional donations from the community. At Rising Lights Project, a learning space for adults with developmental and intellectual disabilities, Luplow is known for his quiet acts of kindness that inspire a ripple effect in the community.
We look forward to introducing our FECK Awardees or their representatives to the audience at 6 pm at the Ritz Carlton Water Tower Place. Members of our Panel of Judges will also be in attendance. The evening will start with musical selections from award-winning jazz vocalist Tammy McCann, and international vocalist Calvin Bridges. Come join us for an evening of joy and inspiration!
I would also like to highlight our Honorable Mentions in each category starting with Forgiveness: Judge Kathleen Coffey, founder of the Homeless Court at Boston’s Pine Street Inn, in Boston, Massachusetts. Each month for 15 years before retiring in late 2025, Judge Coffey transformed a room at the Pine Street Inn homeless shelter into a courtroom where people experiencing homelessness, facing misdemeanors, nonviolent felonies, or default warrants, could come before her to be heard and have their cases adjudicated, allowing individuals to rebuild dignity and self-respect through employment, housing and other opportunities.
Our Honorable Mentions in the categories of Empathy, Compassion and Kindness are:
-The Cancer Cartel in Enumclaw, Washington. Founded by three remarkable cancer survivors, Kerry Solmonsen, Katy Tinney-Olson and Shelly Tinney-Miller, this national non-profit was born from their firsthand experience of how wellness and financial considerations can be at odds. In it’s Mission Statement it says: Cancer Cartel provides financial resources to cancer Warriors. We want anyone in the battle against cancer to be able to focus all of their energy on getting well and nor on how much having cancer is costing them. From gas money to groceries, power bills to mortgage payments, we are fighting to tear down financial barriers to wellness. (They depend on grants,strategic partnerships, and donations which are passed directly to cancer Warriors, and all operating costs are underwritten.)
-Michael Airhart, founder of Chicago’s Taste for the Homeless. Airhart’s nonprofit provides services to uplift homeless people and those living in shelters to become contributing citizens by providing hot food, clothing, hygiene items, and social services. He said it is a calling for him, as he could not just walk past people who needed help without providing it. His organization has grown with the aid of many kind people who are attracted to his goodness.
-Hector and Diane Corona are founders of City Kids Camp in Chicago. It is a free summer camp for children from economically disadvantaged communities, allowing them to experience a true outdoor adventure in a peaceful environment. They recognized the healing power of nature, just allowing kids to be kids away from the cares of the city.
These descriptions are but a thumbnail introduction of what each of the Winners and Honorable Mentions bring to the world. On April 4th, when we celebrate these everyday heroes in person and introduce them to each other, our inaugural honorees will show what it truly means to “give a FECK.” Their stories remind us that each of us has the power to uplift others and help create a kinder and more compassionate world. Join us for an inspiring evening of storytelling, celebration, and community honoring these remarkable individuals and the values they represent. Reception begins at 6pm CT, followed by dinner and the awards show at 6:30pm CT. For full event details and to order tickets, visit GiveAFECK.com.
- SXSW 2025: Beast Race (Corrida Dos Bichos), Campeón Gabacho, Grind (March 20, 2026)
As the effects of late-stage capitalism become not only more pervasive but also irreversible, it’s understandable that the art created will reflect a range of reactions to aspects of our crumbling reality. Whether they’re depicting alternate futures or presenting heightened versions of what we presently experience, it’s encouraging that these films in this dispatch road map serve as vessels for that rage.
Messy as some of these expressions might be, there’s an invitation in each one, as if the filmmakers are asking viewers to brainstorm new ways of surviving. What does become clear is the filmmakers’ belief in the enduring spirit of humanity, and that maybe the way to survive increasingly digitized lives is to press into the messiness, awkwardness, and inconvenience of in-person relationships.
Brazilian cinema has been having an exciting moment in the cultural limelight thanks to the success and visibility of projects like “Apocalypse in the Tropics,” “I’m Still Here,” and “The Secret Agent.” The thrills of the Brazilian action film “Beast Race (Corrida Dos Bichos)” are a little more straightforward, taking its themes around government malfeasance and corrupt authority figures and slipping them into the straitjacket of a story that feels a bit like “The Hunger Games” by way of “The Running Man” and a dash of “American Ninja Warrior.”
I’ll always support watching the rough gems of a country that may not otherwise get the same airtime as “elevated” art house fare (from Korea, I champion “Extreme Job” as much as “Burning”) and while there’s enough to admire, the film feels like a diminutive exercise as its most thrilling moments will most likely have you thinking of the other films its drawing from. The result is a film that has both too much going on and not enough to set itself apart.
The ambition and world-building are undeniable from the first frames by directors Fernando Meirelles, Rodrigo Pesavento, and Ernesto Solis, where an on-screen crawl expedites the necessary information before we’re thrust into the film’s propulsive premise. Set in a future where Rio de Janeiro undergoes a drastic transformation after Guanabara Bay dries up, the powerful and wealthy take advantage, using the arid land as a launchpad for cruelty.
The city hosts the titular beast-race competition, where under-resourced participants run across the terrain to reach the finish line. They face not just each other but the locals who bristle at having their homeland transformed into a playground for the well-off’s appetites for violence. Those who run have to also offer someone for “collateral”–usually a family member–who will become the property of the wealthy person sponsoring them should they lose. Mano (Matheus Abreu) is the latest unfortunate soul to be drafted into these games and races to save his sister, Dalva (Thainá Duarte).
The titular races are thrilling, with Gustavo Hadba’s cinematography capturing them with a kind of panache that makes it feel like we’re on the ground with the runners as they duck and weave through obstacles. But at over two hours, there is perhaps one race too many, and they rarely feel that different from one another.
Thematically, the film feels a bit muddled: Mano’s struggle is with whether he can beat the system through his participation, and without spoiling the film’s ending, the message of his struggle feels confused; is it best to give up? Is the only way out through? His relationship with his sponsor, Nadine (Isis Valverde), is also a point of narrative tension, but it seems too shallow and rushed to ever quite resonate.
If you are interested in seeing dynamic set pieces, “Beast Race” will deliver, but the story in between never feels compelling enough for one to want to stick around. I’m all for a big swing, but the punch has to connect, and what we’re left with is a bunch of scattered blows looking for somewhere to land.
The scale of Jonás Cuarón’s “Campeón Gabacho” may not be as large, but that doesn’t stop this pertinent story from trying to tell its narrative in a big way. It’s one of the most visually inventive films I’ve seen at the festival, and it moves with an excitement that’s hard not to be enraptured by. It’s as much a celebration of the endurance of the human spirit as its creativity, a beautiful testament to our ability to bounce back when we have the right people in our corner. Seldom do movies like this nail the balance between the heartbreaking and the entertaining, but this film flies effortlessly between those modes.
Cuarón’s effervescent film follows Liborio (Juan Daniel García Treviño), a migrant from Mexico who arrives in NYC in search of a better life. Within moments, Liborio realizes the bitter truth: it turns out it’s quite easy to start anew in the land of the free, you just have to deal with the xenophobia, exploitation, police brutality, unrequited love, economic disparity, and sense of self-loathing that seems endemic to all who try to escape where they come from. Priding himself on his ability to take hits, both physical and emotional, he is drawn into the orbit of Abacuc (Rubén Blades), who runs an orphanage and encourages the young man to channel his anger and rage into boxing.
This isn’t a film of small emotions, and so much of “Campeón Gabacho” serves as a gleeful exploration of how we all universally feel emotions in new ways. Treviño gives a truly singular performance as Liborio, playing the wide-eyed, thin-lipped fighter with an inner pain that can barely be concealed by fighting. He frequently takes breaks from what’s going on and turns to the camera–“Fleabag” style–and speaks with a satirical tone; he believes all he’s good for is being thrown around as life’s punching bag. It’s rewarding to witness him transform from a solo act into someone who embraces the responsibility of being an icon and visionary; the very perseverance he hates himself for is the very thing that will inspire the people around him.
There are surrealist flourishes that give the film its personality; Cuarón seems to suggest that the emotions these characters feel are metaphysical, letting the world outside them react to what goes on inside. Take a moment when Liborio and Aireen (Leslie Grace) begin to fall in love: the film shows the two of them being lifted from the rooftop they’re on and flying into the sky, eventually into the cosmos.
It’s a touching moment and an example of the film feeling alive, wanting to showcase and honor its characters’ emotions. There’s much to trade blows at in the world and much to solve behind anger and fists. “Campeón Gabacho” gives space for our anger and hope, saying both are needed if we are to survive this world. Ultimately, a riotous crowd pleaser that tells the struggles (and hopeful triumphs) of immigrants with flamboyance and whimsy.
The horror anthology “Grind” tackles its questions about capitalism and exploitation head-on. Directors Brea Grant, Ed Dougherty, and Chelsea Stardust direct vignettes exploring the various vocations that have emerged from the gig economy, from food delivery to influencer work.
The various shorts are succinct enough to be enticing just at an elevator pitch level but it’s more rewarding to see how far each director takes their film’s concept: “ML” focuses on a woman whose failure to sell a certain number of leggings results in terrifying consequences for her and her husband, “Delivery” follows a driver who finds himself caught in a time loop after he drops of food for a suspicious client, “Content Moderation” focuses on someone who goes crazy after subjecting themselves to the worst videos of the internet, while “Union Meeting” mixes creature feature thrills with a group of people at a coffee shop who are thinking about unionizing. They all fall delightfully off the rails, a testament to the directors’ confidence in their twisted visions.
These anecdotes bleed seamlessly into each other, which makes it feel like you’re drinking a demented smoothie of insanity in all flavors. This works in “Grind’s” favor as microdosing each one might have sapped the project’s momentum. The films vary in tone and effectiveness, but there’s a sobering quality to their absurdity. Grant, Dougherty, and Stardust aren’t content to let their stories stay in the realm of satire. We may not have an axe-murderer sent our way yet if we miss a couple of deadlines here and there, but as corporations are backed by technologies that enable those in power to enforce work cruelly, that possibility isn’t entirely out of the question.
While the jury’s still out on the timeline our robots will take over for us, this in-between state we find ourselves in is one characterized by rampant exploitation. It’s far easier for companies to promise 1-day shipping, higher quotas, and faster delivery services if they don’t care about the people who put their bodies and minds on the line doing such work. “Grind” films offer a collage of the people who are being sacrificed on the altar of “magic.” Do we consider the people who race to deliver the duct tape that we wanted expedited? What’s going on with the souls of those people who have to subject themselves to violent images every day and have to filter through them? It may not be perfect, but it acts as a pulpy wake-up call to wake us up from our doom-scroll-induced slumber.
