Girl’s Town (1996)
The 1996 indie classic Girls Town, directed by Jim McKay, returns in a stunning 4K restoration from Film Movement. Co-written by McKay and its cast, including Lili Taylor and Bruklin Harris, the film follows a group of friends grappling with the suicide of one of their own, confronting sexism, abuse, and the struggles of young womanhood. Celebrated for its raw performances and collaborative spirit, Girls Town remains a powerful landmark in feminist and independent cinema.
The performances in Girls Town are raw, heartfelt, and brimming with authenticity, a hallmark of 1990s independent cinema at its finest. Lili Taylor, Bruklin Harris, and Anna Grace bring an immediacy and emotional honesty to their roles that feel deeply connected to the film’s collaborative roots. Watching this restoration is a reminder of a bygone era of indie filmmaking, when films emerging from Sundance had a low-key, unpolished quality that prioritized sincerity over sheen. Unlike today’s indies, which often feel overly slick and aspirational, focusing on the lives of the well-off, films like Girls Town, Slacker, Go Fish, and Clerks celebrated insular communities and their unique stories. These films, though modest in scale, resonated widely, finding audiences across the country and fostering a sense of shared connection through their rawness and relatability.
The strength of Girls Town lies not only in its performances but also in its sharp, collaborative writing, which captures the unfiltered voices of its characters with striking authenticity. Shot on 16mm film, the movie has a tactile quality that draws you into its world—its grainy textures and natural light evoke a sense of intimacy and immediacy that feels increasingly rare in today’s digital age. The medium enhances the raw emotion of the story, making every frame feel grounded and alive, as though you’re experiencing the characters’ struggles and triumphs firsthand. It’s a beautiful reminder of how the physicality of film can elevate storytelling in a way that feels deeply personal and enduring.
It’s a shame that Girls Town has been largely lost to time, its raw power and cultural significance overlooked for far too long. This 4K restoration is not only overdue but essential, offering a chance for both new and returning audiences to appreciate a film that still feels urgent and necessary. What’s even more disheartening is how the politics at the heart of Girls Town—its exploration of sexism, systemic inequality, and the struggles of marginalized communities—remain as relevant as ever. As we navigate an increasingly fraught and divisive era in America, the film’s themes resonate with a sobering clarity, underscoring just how little progress has been made. This re-release is not just a celebration of a lost gem but a vital reminder of the power of independent cinema to challenge, provoke, and reflect the world around us.
I would be remiss not to mention the incredible soundtrack, which perfectly captures the raw energy and spirit of the mid-90s. Featuring artists like Salt-N-Pepa, Babes in Toyland, and Liz Phair, the music is just a beautiful time capsule.
Girl’s Town is now available from Film Movement.
Twilight (1990)
György Fehér’s haunting Twilight (Szürkület), a brooding meditation on morality and the human condition, has been resurrected for contemporary audiences through a breathtaking 4K restoration by Arbelos Films. A stark Hungarian noir loosely inspired by Friedrich Dürrenmatt’s The Pledge, the film follows an aging detective as he hunts a child murderer through a bleak, fog-drenched landscape. With its mesmerizing black-and-white cinematography by Miklós Gurbán and deliberate pacing, Twilight transforms a crime thriller into an existential reckoning, blurring the lines between justice and futility.
For me, Twilight was a complete revelation. I discovered it by chance while exploring the work of Béla Tarr, whose collaborations with Fehér on films like Werckmeister Harmonies connect the two as kindred spirits in crafting austere, philosophical cinema. The stills from Twilight immediately seized my imagination, and I ordered the Blu-ray sight unseen. Those stark, unforgettable images have lingered with me ever since. Now, I find myself loaning the film to friends and recommending it to anyone willing to experience its quiet, devastating power.
Arbelos Films' restoration ensures that Twilight—long underappreciated outside of Hungary—can now claim its rightful place in global arthouse cinema. It is a masterwork deserving of every bit of attention it receives.
