Run Amok; dark humour, pop anthems, and the exploration of avoided aftermath: Sundance Film Festival Review

Run Amok announces the arrival of a filmmaker unafraid of discomfort. In her striking debut feature, writer-director NB Mager tackles one of the most fraught subjects in contemporary American life – the aftermath of a school tragedy – and does so with a form that feels almost provocatively unexpected. The premise is deceptively simple yet bracingly bold: a teenage girl stages an elaborate musical about the single day her high school wishes it could forget. What unfolds is not shock exploitation or ironic detachment, but a deeply felt exploration of grief, memory, and the strange rituals communities invent in the wake of the unthinkable.

Mager’s greatest strength lies in her refusal to center the adult response as authoritative or complete. Instead, Run Amok pulls us into the emotional reality of the students themselves, capturing the absurdist limbo many young people in America know all too well – where counselors are hastily assigned, assemblies are staged, and administrators speak in rehearsed phrases that gesture toward healing without ever truly engaging with it. The film’s tonal balance is nothing short of miraculous, walking a tightrope between dark humor and raw heartbreak. Mager understands that tragedy does not eliminate absurdity; it often amplifies it, particularly when institutions prioritize optics over honesty.

At the center of the film is an utterly sublime lead performance from Alyssa Marvin. As Meg, Marvin delivers a portrayal brimming with conviction, intelligence, and aching vulnerability. She embodies a teenager whose insistence on staging this musical is not an act of provocation but of survival – an attempt to give shape to grief that refuses to stay neatly buried. Marvin’s performance is layered and fearless, capturing both Meg’s stubborn resolve and her fragility as she pushes against the discomfort of those who would rather move on. It’s a breakout turn that anchors the film emotionally and gives its bold formal choices a human core; one particular scene where she’s walking through the actions of the shooter may be some of the most heartbreaking minutes you’ll witness in cinema.

The musical elements themselves are where Run Amok truly distinguishes itself. The song choices are hilariously daring, deployed with a precision that borders on mischievous. Without spoiling the genuine shock and delight of the film’s needle-drop moments, it’s enough to say that Mager uses pop music not as ironic garnish but as emotional punctuation. There’s a sense that the film is channeling the spirit of the boldest, most controversial Glee episode proposal that never made it to air – one that would have undoubtedly been deemed “too much,” “too soon,” or simply “too honest.” In Run Amok, those risks are the point.

The film’s subject matter is undeniably triggering, and Mager never pretends otherwise. Yet Run Amok is careful not to sensationalize violence or reduce trauma to narrative shorthand. Instead, it examines the long, awkward, unfinished process of healing, or the lack thereof. This is a film less interested in catharsis than in what happens when closure is withheld, when answers don’t arrive, and when grief lingers in the background of everyday life. In that sense, it feels not just timely but necessary, offering a portrait of mourning that resists easy resolution.

It will be fascinating, and perhaps telling, to see what becomes of Run Amok in terms of distribution. Its provocative form and subject matter may prove too daunting for risk-averse studios, yet that hesitation would only underscore the film’s relevance. Run Amok is a tender, unconventional, and deeply humane piece of art that honors the voices of those most often sidelined in conversations about tragedy. By subverting expectation and embracing discomfort, Mager delivers a debut that feels both singular and essential – a film that dares to ask not how we move on, but whether we ever truly can.

FOUR STARS (OUT OF FIVE)

Run Amok is screening as part of this year’s Sundance Film Festival, running between January 22nd and February 1st, 2026. For more information on tickets and session times, head to the official site here.

*Image Courtesy of Sundance Institute | photo by Tandem Pictures.

Peter Gray

Seasoned film critic and editor. Gives a great interview. Penchant for horror. Unashamed fan of Michelle Pfeiffer and Jason Momoa. Contact: [email protected]