By Peg Aloi

A quartet of films whose topics range from modern love and protecting animals to family dysfunction and a whodunit with a vintage doll detective on the case.

A scene from The Lure of Ponies: A Spellbound Attic Mystery. Photo: Woodstock Film Festival

The next set of films I saw at Woodstock were a diverse assortment of micro-budget independent efforts and deeply personal stories. The Lure of Ponies: A Spellbound Attic Mystery was sold out at both screenings, so I was lucky to get in to see it. This inventive, entertaining stop-motion animated film by Woodstock local Beck Underwood was probably my favorite film of the festival, and it was followed by a terrific Q & A featuring the director and several of the wonderful voice actors.

The story is billed as a “cozy mystery” in the Agatha Christie (or Miss Marple) style, acted out with antique and vintage dolls. Frances Faraday (voiced by veteran actress Beth Dixon) is a crime writer and detective brought out of retirement when a histrionic baby doll begs her for help finding her missing human owner. Frances is a bald Victorian porcelain doll with a propensity for eclectic outfits; her young sidekick Midge (a ’60s era teen doll) gets around on roller skates and does some inspired forensics work. The “Spellbound Attic” refers to the setting of the film in an old attic (technically a barn, owned by the filmmaker) that is full of junk and memorabilia, including ephemera that might be recognized by older audience members (many of whom gasped in delight at the sight of old toys, magazine ads, and clothing styles). The sets are filmed in a dynamic way, inventively utilizing stop-motion techniques to create uncanny depth and intrigue. These doll characters look like ageless denizens who, nevertheless, somehow live rich lives, unexpectedly full of gossip and drama. Perhaps it was the enthusiastic local audience — with their laughter, cheers, and sighs — that elevated my experience of watching this film, but the unbridled creativity and technical prowess on display here was nothing short of stunning.

A scene from The Ark. Photo: Woodstock Film Festival

The Ark is a gripping yet heartwarming documentary set in war-torn Ukraine. The narrative follows a young family who find themselves unexpectedly running an animal sanctuary. In 2022, Zhenya and Anatoly Pilipenko brought their young children to a rural homestead from the city to live a simpler life; then Russia invaded. Their plans are quickly upended when people close to the front lines, including military personnel, start to bring them animals in need of shelter, medical attention, and a safe place to live. Throwing themselves completely into their new roles — running a farm populated with goats, cows, horses, donkeys, pigs, chickens, cats, and other animals — they make up for their lack of knowledge, experience, and funding with hard work and determination. They manage to receive funds to build suitable barns; the many cattle in their care would perish during the harsh winter season without shelter. The family also hires a staff veterinarian: a young woman overjoyed to leave her desk job to do the rewarding work she was trained for, despite the long hours and constant struggle for resources. As the world learns of their work, donations arrive, sometimes in the form of much-needed supplies, including a prosthetic leg for a sweet, resilient donkey. As the fighting moves closer, Zhenya and Anatoly hatch a plan for the unthinkable: evacuating and leaving the animals behind. Somehow, director Jeremy Chilnick and editor Joe Vele managed to transform hundreds of hours of raw footage (including dialogue in a language they didn’t speak) into a suspenseful, uplifting, and surprisingly intimate story, one that offers a fascinating portrait of people whose love of country and compassion for animals counters a world filled with destruction and horror.

A scene from Floating Carousel. Photo: Woodstock Film Festival

I really enjoyed Floating Carousel, a witty, voicy indie set in New York City, written and directed by Lucy Powers and Delilah Napier. It’s a narrative patchwork of sexual dynamics, all loosely connected with themes of control, jealousy, and loneliness. The first scene is a hilarious, entirely plausible dinner party conversation between a married couple hoping to have a hot threesome and a young PhD student studying “compulsive heterosexuality.” Other stories: a jealous boyfriend gets angry about his new girlfriend’s sugar daddy; a wealthy middle-aged man pressures his much younger lover to have his child; a trio of erudite drag performers reveal the secrets of exclusive clubs and tell tales about ambition and betrayal;  a sex worker caters to a lonely, broke divorced guy (Spotlight’s Michael Cyril Creighton) who just wants to cuddle.

The seemingly disjointed scenarios and characters overlap in fascinating ways; New York’s eclectic anonymity is envisioned as a community of yearning misfits, some full of dreams, some disillusioned. The dialogue is razor-sharp and authentic, performed beautifully by the terrific cast, made up of relative unknowns and veterans like Dylan Baker, Catherine Curtin (Stranger Things), and Jessica Hecht (Breaking Bad).

A scene from Dust to Malibu. Photo: Woodstock Film Festival

In the way of small-town film festivals, I randomly met director Stephen Ward after dark in a parking lot my first night there. I learned he was jet-lagged after traveling from London — he had come to introduce his feature film, Dust to Malibu. This emotional drama starts off as all films ought to: with a song by the great pop artist Paul Williams (“Where Do I Go From Here”). Tim Daly plays Phil, a man estranged from his adult daughter Jessie (Alex Sgambati). After she misses her mother’s funeral, Phil shows up at Jessie’s house unexpectedly. He learns from his daughter’s dim boyfriend that she tells people her father died years ago in a weird accident. On top of that, she’s been in the county jail for the last month and will be released the next day.

Jessie is outraged to see Phil and refuses to engage, but he keeps trying. Phil’s shock at Jessie’s wayward life and her lingering anger at his abandonment seems to be incompatible with his proposal to drive them across the country to fulfill his ex-wife’s last wish — to have her ashes dispersed at Malibu. But, somehow, this ill-fated road trip happens; along the way comes the inevitable recrimination and reconciliation. The strength of this film lies in the excellent performances by the two lead actors, who artfully navigate the intensity of Phil and Jessie’s history during the journey, to finally enter the tender territory of redemption.

Peg Aloi is a former film critic for the Boston Phoenix and member of the Boston Society of Film Critics, the Critics Choice Awards, and the Alliance for Women Film Journalists. She taught film studies in Boston for over a decade. She has written on film, TV, and culture for web publications like Time, Vice, Polygon, Bustle, Dread Central, Mic, Orlando Weekly, Refinery29, and Bloody Disgusting. Her blog “The Witching Hour” can be found on substack.