Tendaberry Review: A Heartfelt City Symphony Set in Brooklyn

      Note: This review was initially published as part of our coverage of the 2024 Sundance Film Festival. Tendaberry is now available on VOD and will be on MUBI on April 25.

      Haley Elizabeth Anderson’s Tendaberry is a heartfelt coming-of-age narrative that explores much more than the immediate present. As her ambitious directorial debut, it blends various storytelling techniques to create a poetic tapestry of concepts. Through the perspective of 23-year-old Dakota (Kota Johan), the film captures her experiences balancing romance, work, friendship, and family while intertwining memories of the past, her current life, and aspirations for the future. The film's eclectic approach—merging narrative, documentary, and archival elements—can cause certain segments to drag, but the overall effect showcases a noteworthy new voice.

      Set against the backdrop of Brooklyn, with a particular emphasis on Coney Island, Tendaberry also serves as a city portrait that delights in its vibrant energy while acknowledging its inherent struggles. The film mirrors an Eliza Hittman-like confidence in its use of silence. We observe Dakota's playful and evolving relationship with her boyfriend Yuri (Yuri Pleskun) along the windswept shore, where dialogue is minimal, a quality that resonates in the film's most impactful moments. Their connection is abruptly disrupted when Yuri receives a call to care for his ailing father in Ukraine. Shortly after, Dakota learns of her pregnancy and embarks on a journey filled with romantic yearning, contemplating her place in the transient big city.

      Unlike many directorial debuts that focus narrowly on personal experiences, Anderson expresses curiosity about both the past and the future. Through voiceover, Dakota muses about Coney Island a century ago, while the director seamlessly includes early archival footage, providing a brief history of the region. She also contemplates the distant future, musing, “In 100 years, 10 million people will replace all of us.” By introducing a broader perspective to this slice-of-life narrative, the film suggests that Dakota's story is just one of many deserving of narration. This sense of a larger community is further underscored by actual footage filmed by Nelson Sullivan, a gay man in 1980s New York who documented everything, whose tapes represent an essential archive of early home video history.

      Throughout this urban narrative, Anderson addresses various common experiences of city life—the ephemeral nature of friendships, the pressures of apartment searching, and interactions with everyday street hustlers—conveying an authenticity that only someone who deeply appreciates a place, flaws and all, can portray. While some segments of Dakota’s work experiences, from the monotonous to the hazardous, may feel repetitive and drawn out, the film finds its rhythm in its more musical moments. We see Dakota crafting songs in her apartment, as well as busking and dancing. Using movement as a means to connect with friends and mend family ties, a particularly moving scene features Darondo’s “Listen to My Song.”

      Shot primarily with a handheld camera by Matthew Ballard (also making his feature debut), the anxious, dynamic style may not resonate with everyone, but it aligns well with the city symphony and its subjects, capturing glimpses of beauty amidst the chaos. With her debut feature, Anderson seems to assert that, regardless of the style, she intends to portray the most emotionally resonant images. This effect shines brightest during the film's most free-form segments. Concluding with a sequence that echoes the iconic monologue montage from 25th Hour—yet radiating more affection than anger—Tendaberry focuses on a universal sentiment: in a diverse city filled with many, we all experience the swift passage of time, making it vital to embrace the present.

      Tendaberry premiered at the 2024 Sundance Film Festival and is now available digitally.