NAKEDJEN

Tag: movies

  • Come As You Are

    THE NAKEDJEN FILM FESTIVAL IS OPEN

    This weekend, I spent my days with the unhoused community.
    Cooking real food.
    Passing out warm socks and the right shoes.
    Hauling heavy tarps.
    Listening. Really listening.
    Helping with pets.
    Sorting stories into something that might become actual help.

    It was grounding in the way only service can be.
    Feet on pavement. Hands busy. Heart wide open.

    August was found.
    He is warm. He is safe. He is with his mother.
    I will leave it there.

    What I will say is this: the community that formed around that search is one I treasure deeply. LOVE. All caps. Some of our finest humans. The kind who show up when it’s inconvenient, uncomfortable, and unclear. The kind who do not quit. The Purple Alert is moving forward, and Utah needs it. That matters. That focus matters. That energy matters.

    I also celebrated the Solstice.
    With my professor.
    With my Coffee Garden family.
    Food. Laughter. Candlelight. That quiet, delicious knowing that the light is coming back. Flickering on again. In the sky. In us.

    How blessed am I?
    To be loved this fully.
    To be seen.
    To be held by so many steady, tender hearts.

    Which brings me back here.

    Back to the Nakedjen Film Festival.

    This is not a festival the way you’re thinking.
    There are no velvet ropes. No badges. No gatekeepers.
    There will be a list of suggested films, yes. Because sometimes it’s nice to be handed a menu.

    But let me be very clear:

    You are the festival.
    We are the festival.
    Everyone participates.

    Come as you are.

    Start right now.
    Or wait until Christmas.
    Or stretch it out through the holidaze, because honestly, why rush joy?

    Watch what makes you happy.
    Watch what cracks you open.
    Watch what helps you laugh, breathe, remember yourself.

    Stream something.
    Go to a theater.
    Sit on the floor.
    Invite people over.
    Watch alone and text someone after.
    Let the joy be in the watching, yes — but also in the sharing.
    The conversations.
    The “have you seen this?”
    The quiet miracle of feeling something together.

    This is how we rest without going numb.
    This is how we stay human.
    This is how we keep our hearts from hardening.

    So come as you are.
    Bring your weariness.
    Bring your love.
    Bring your grief and your laughter and your popcorn.

    The Nakedjen Film Festival is open.
    No end date.
    No dress code.
    Just a warm light in the dark, and room for everyone.

    We can begin.


    🍿 THE NAKEDJEN FILM FESTIVAL
    Come As You Are • Where to Watch • How to Watch

    No gatekeeping. No pressure.
    Press play when you’re ready. Pause when you need to.
    Share what moves you.

    🖤 IN HONOR OF STORY, LOVE, AND ENDURANCE

    The Princess Bride
    How: Streaming rental
    Where: Amazon Prime Video, Apple TV
    Theatrical: Occasional revival screenings
    Why: Because tenderness, humor, bravery, and devotion still matter. Always.

    🎄 CLASSIC CHRISTMAS (CORRECT, NOT COZY)

    Die Hard
    How: Streaming rental
    Where: Amazon Prime Video, Apple TV
    Theatrical: Seasonal repertory screenings
    Why: Resilience, teamwork, and surviving the impossible. Shoes optional.

    🔥 NOW / NEXT (2024–2025 ENERGY)

    Marty Supreme
    How: Theatrical release
    Where: Independent and arthouse cinemas
    Streaming: Expected later in 2025
    Why: Ambition, masculinity, myth-making, and the cost of wanting more than the room allows.

    Train Dreams
    How: Streaming now
    Where: Netflix (press play, no rental required)
    Theatrical: Festival and limited special screenings
    Why: Solitude, labor, wilderness, and the quiet lives that built this country. A meditation, not a spectacle.

    Goodbye Jane
    How: Streaming now
    Where: Netflix (easy, immediate access)
    Theatrical: Festival and limited release
    Why: Grief, rupture, love after loss. Gentle and devastating in equal measure.

    Past Lives
    How: Streaming
    Where: Paramount+, Amazon Prime Video (rental)
    Theatrical: Occasional revival screenings
    Why: A film that doesn’t fade. It deepens.

    The Holdovers
    How: Streaming
    Where: Peacock, Amazon Prime Video (rental)
    Theatrical: Holiday repertory screenings
    Why: Lonely winters, found family, and the grace of staying.

    🎥 DOCUMENTARIES

    (Because paying attention is an act of love.)

    It’s Never Over: Jeff Buckley
    How: Streaming
    Where: Max (HBO)
    Theatrical: Select documentary screenings
    Why: Genius, ache, devotion to art, and a voice that still echoes.

    20 Days in Mariupol
    How: Streaming
    Where: PBS / Frontline platforms
    Theatrical: Educational and special screenings
    Why: Bearing witness. Not easy. Necessary.

    🌱 GROUNDING / BREATH / HUMANITY

    Perfect Days
    How: Streaming rental
    Where: Amazon Prime Video, Apple TV
    Theatrical: Occasional indie revivals
    Why: Ritual, simplicity, and the quiet holiness of showing up anyway.

    🎞️ NJFF THEMES

    Choose your night by feeling, not by calendar.

    💔 Grief Night
    Goodbye Jane • It’s Never Over: Jeff Buckley • Past Lives

    🔥 Resistance Night
    Die Hard • Marty Supreme • 20 Days in Mariupol

    🌲 Stillness & Solitude
    Train Dreams • Perfect Days

    🫶 Found Family
    The Holdovers • The Princess Bride

    ✨ Art Saves Us
    It’s Never Over: Jeff Buckley • Past Lives

    🫶 FINAL INVITATION

    The Nakedjen Film Festival is not a fixed lineup.
    It is a living, breathing thing.

    Please add your films.
    Share what cracked you open.
    Tell us what made you laugh, rage, soften, or remember yourself.

    Watch alone.
    Watch together.
    Start now. Or Christmas. Or stretch it through the holidaze.

    You are the festival.
    We are the festival.
    Come as you are.

  • Come See Me In The Good Light

    Come See Me In The Good Light

    Before Sundance officially cracked open this year, those of us who volunteer were ushered into a whisper-level pre-festival screening. A special showing. A quiet gathering in the dark. The kind that makes you feel like the universe nudged you in early on purpose.

    The film was Come See Me In the Good Light, directed with exquisite tenderness by Ryan White, anchored by Andrea Gibson and their life partner, Megan Falley.

    From the very first moments, something inside my ribcage shifted. I held my breath through the entire film. Even while simultaneously laughing and crying. When the lights came up, I turned to my sister—still stunned and breathless—and said,
    “This is the most transformative documentary I’ve ever experienced. A gift. Ten stars. This film will change people.”

    A few days later, at the official Sundance premiere, the room rose in a standing ovation that felt like a wave with no shoreline. The entire film team was there, filling the theatre with a kind of love and presence usually reserved for sacred spaces. It was electric and gentle all at once—poetry in the shape of applause. Andrea sharing a poem right off the of their head. Pure light and magic.

    Then they came to my green room.

    All of them.

    Andrea. Meg. Ryan. Tig. The whole magnificent constellation that shaped this film.

    I tried to be my usual Sundance faerie self, the one who’s seen it all for 25 years and floats around like it’s no big deal. But let’s be honest:
    I was NOT cool.
    Not for one second.
    I was a happy, messy, overjoyed fangirl puddle.
    I hugged everyone twice.
    I spoke too many feelings and used way too many words.
    I told them the truth:
    “I’ve been at Sundance for 25 years. I have seen hundreds of first screenings. This film changed the shape of my heart. You need to know that.
    You also need to believe me when I tell you, right now, that it will also save lives and win all the awards. Thank you for sharing every bit of both of you with all of us.”

    They were kind. Gentle. Human. We laughed. We shared. We breathed the same gratitude-filled air.

    And then—my favorite Sundance moment of all—
    they all came back.

    Later in the week, the whole team quietly returned to my theatre to sneak into another film together. Not their own. Someone else’s. Not for applause. Not for press. Not for spotlight.

    Just to be people again.
    To sit in the dark with strangers.
    To watch a movie like regular festival-goers, shoulder-to-shoulder, no fanfare required.

    And I helped them do it.

    I tucked them into that anonymity.
    Found them a path in the chaos.
    Gave them the dignity of being unseen, while knowing—
    they were deeply, reverently SEEN.
    Not by cameras.
    Not by crowds.
    But by community.
    By Sundance itself, which always saves a quiet corner for the artists who give us so much of their hearts.

    That—right there—is the heartbeat and essence of Come See Me In The Good Light.
    The sacred act of being witnessed.
    The tenderness of being ordinary.
    The courage of showing up exactly as you are.
    And the miracle of having someone love you through it.

    Ryan White’s direction allows Andrea’s language to land where it always lands—inside you—and Meg’s love to hold the shape of the whole film. It is a portrait of devotion, mortality, artistry, partnership, and the radical act of telling the truth beautifully.

    If you do nothing else this week, please:
    watch this film on Apple TV.
    Let it remind you that love is brave, art is necessary, and being human together is still the point.

    Ten stars.
    Every single one glowing.

    xo,
    nakedjen