The first time I stumbled into Telluride, a rain-soaked poster for Iñárritu's “Birdman” was half-peeling off the town's Opera House wall. Nobody told me Philip Seymour Hoffman was just across the street. That's Telluride. Nothing feels official until you're breathing thin Colorado air and reading a program fresh off the printer.
Now, four weeks out from the 2025 lineup drop, the festival's muscle memory kicks in—part secret society, part fever dream. Julie Huntsinger's programming, always a little showman, a little surgeon, continues: high-stakes world premieres, North American debuts, and just enough Venice leftovers to keep festival-watching cinephiles foaming.
But this year, Scott Cooper's “Springsteen: Deliver Me From Nowhere” is the one everyone's talking about. Jeremy Allen White in full Nebraska gloom, shot partly in black-and-white—expect a run on denim and desperation in altitude. Forget the jukebox energy of your typical musician biopic: If word from early test screenings holds, this is Cooper in his somber “Out of the Furnace” bag, and White reportedly leans into vulnerability over impersonation. One exec called it “Moody Americana. Bruce, minus the stadium lights.” Release strategy? World premiere at Telluride—no announced streaming or theatrical date yet.
Not far behind: Chloé Zhao finally debuts “Hamnet,” skipping Venice and going straight to the Rockies. This is her first out-and-out Shakespeare riff, reportedly taking the bones of the play and filtering them through the humanistic lens that won her “Nomadland” an Oscar. If you're looking for glossy studio sheen, look elsewhere. Zhao's style—expansive, naturalistic, arguably divisive—will have the downtown theater buzzing, for better or worse.
Edward Berger's “Ballad of a Small Player,” starring Colin Farrell and set in the neon-soaked streets of Macau, is another big get. Berger, coming off “All Quiet on the Western Front,” looks to marry high art with pulp. And Daniel Roher's “Tuner”—crime, pianos, Leo Woodall and Dustin Hoffman—might be the sleeper hit for those tired of Marvel fatigue.
On the North American debut circuit, Noah Baumbach's “Jay Kelly” heads to Telluride straight from Venice. Baumbach isn't a double-dipper by habit, so his stop in town signals a strategic pivot—likely awards positioning or a response to distributor calculus. A few other Lido-to-Rockies shuttles are expected, but Baumbach's presence is what matters for reviewers and dealmakers alike.
If history's any guide, expect leftovers from Cannes: Jafar Panahi's “It Was Just an Accident,” Joachim Trier's “Sentimental Value,” Richard Linklater's “Nouvelle Vague,” Oliver Hermanus' “The History of Sound,” and more. Nothing draws a crowd at Telluride quite like a Palme d'Or runner-up suddenly within American reach.
Who's not coming? Bigelow's “A House of Dynamite.” Guadagnino's “After the Hunt.” Jarmusch's “Father Mother Sister Brother.” And no, you won't get Safdie's “Marty Supreme” until maybe the New York Film Festival—assuming that even happens.
And what about Yorgos Lanthimos' “Bugonia”? It's locked in for Venice competition, but the Focus Features team has kept radio silence about a Telluride drop. Don't bet against the last-minute pivot—stranger things have happened. Sometimes, a director's best move is not to play.
The beauty of Telluride's secrecy, of its resistance to pre-ordained hype cycles, is that cinema here still feels like an event—something you discover, not something spoon-fed by marketing teams in Burbank. No QR code trailers flashed before every screening, no TikTok filters. Just posters on wooden storefronts, the mountains close, a crowd that, for a weekend, pretends it still means something to see a film before everyone else.
So here we are again—waiting, guessing, arguing over which festival markers matter. Maybe “Springsteen: Deliver Me From Nowhere” changes the biopic game. Maybe Zhao's “Hamnet” falls flat. Maybe you walk out of a random screening and realize the best thing you saw wasn't on anyone's list.
Share your predictions in the comments, argue the lineup in the forums, or just show up and let the films bruise you a little. That's still the Telluride way.
