Sundance Review: By Design Offers a Difficult Perspective on the Wealthy and the Struggling

      Offering a unique take on the body-swap genre, Amanda Kramer’s Sundance Next entry, By Design, initially seems better suited for the stage or an art gallery rather than a cinematic experience. It explores themes of luxury, envy, and desire with a dry tone that demands patience but ultimately fails to provide a fulfilling experience beyond its recurring metaphor: harboring resentment is akin to drinking poison while waiting for someone else to suffer. The characters grapple with a fear of missing out, fearing they might become just another piece of decor. When the narrator (Melanie Griffith) stops conveying sufficient expository information, the film transitions into dance.

      Juliette Lewis portrays Camile, a financially struggling woman who enjoys lunch with her friends Lisa (Samantha Mathis) and Irene (Robin Tunney) before heading to an upscale furniture store that features unique chairs. Camile becomes obsessed with a chair that may or may not be available for purchase and vows to sort out her finances before returning the next morning. However, she arrives too late: Martha (Alisa Torres) gifts the chair to her ex-boyfriend Oliver (Mamoudou Athie), a broke pianist who takes on random gigs despite the narrator stating early on that "he doesn’t know how to make money" and "he will learn to buy when it matters what's on sale."

      By Design serves as a satirical critique of ostentatious luxury, reminiscent of a shallow fashion advertisement. It brought to mind Bulgari’s Unexpected Wonders, the Paolo Sorrentino-directed "film" ad featuring Zendaya and Anne Hathaway that aired before screenings at the Toronto International Film Festival (and later lingered in my mind during a visit to the iPic theater). Drawing from the aesthetics of high-fashion advertisements, the film operates at times as a surreal comedy about prioritizing form over function as Camile imagines and ultimately becomes the chair that symbolizes her and Oliver’s yearning. It has been a long time since furniture has held such significance on screen, reminiscent of the Duplass Brothers’ The Puffy Chair.

      The dry narration by Griffith, the characters' uninterested dialogue as they question each other, and the deliberately flat performances create an atmosphere akin to a two-hour fashion advertisement or art installation. This format might have served the film better, as it often feels like branded content for an aspirational brand. The characters are portrayed as both despondent and affluent, fixated on aesthetics over practicality. As NYU marketing professor Scott Galloway notes, “Everything eventually becomes Hermès or Walmart,” and through this lens, By Design awkwardly transforms Camile into a commodity yearning to be a high-quality luxury product.

      Despite its convoluted metaphors, By Design is both ambitious and challenging in its minimalist approach to physical and sound design. The frames frequently appear empty, representing a reality rather than replicating it, suggesting that it could have been a performance in a black box theater. At best, it offers a hypnotic experiment, even if it seems isolated within a bubble of individuals aspiring to emulate wealth. Influenced by themes of objectification, By Design, by design, tests viewers’ patience through Kramer’s meticulous direction and precise mise-en-scène, crafted by Grace Surnow and captured by Patrick Meade Jones—sadly, this challenge rarely feels rewarding. Perhaps that is the intention: aspirational luxury emphasizes the allure rather than substance.

      By Design made its debut at the 2025 Sundance Film Festival.

      Grade: C