The equal-opportunity selection process does not prevent the inclusion of a few flat-out dogs. The fatally slight, student-quality triptych Hello Lonesome would seem to be the kind of vapid American indie that the foreign discoveries should have shoved out of contention, while Vlast is pure PBS-ready edutainment, a blind spot in a documentary competition that's otherwise chock-full of formally daring nonfiction. Percy Adlon's Mahler on the Couch, the only world premiere in the festival's Gala section (an underwhelming lineup that also includes Cyrus, a film that opens in L.A. on June 19, and will thus be showing in commercial theaters hours before its sole LAFF screening), and the Gabriel Garcia Marquez adaptation Of Love and Other Demons feel like relics of Weinstein-era Miramax — bloated, pretentious middlebrow pablum leavened sporadically by "sensuality," films that Look Like Art but maintain as shallow an understanding of context and character as standard multiplex fare. These are movies that LAFF should be saving us from, not selling us. They're the regrettable blights on a festival that, for the most part, seems to be charting an exciting path for the future.
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