SUNDANCE: ‘The Gallerist’ Is Cathy Yan’s Chaotically Campy Return To Sundance

Cathy Yan’s The Gallerist (co-written with James Pedersen) captures her sharp wit through a stellar ensemble cast as a gallerist runs a struggling art gallery in Miami. What ensues is a comedy of errors with each choice cascading into the other. Celebrating its world premiere at the 2026 Sundance Film Festival, the film marks Yan’s return to the fest after her debut feature film, Dead Pigs, premiered in 2018. 

In The Gallerist, Natalie Portman plays Polina Polinski (Natalie Portman), a gallerist preparing for her Art Basel premiere. The only problem is that her gallery is struggling. While her intent is to highlight her art in a pure way that doesn’t cater to buzzwords or influences, the reality is that the art world has changed.

Instead of showcasing her emerging artist Stella Burgess’s (Da’Vine Joy Randolph) work for all to see without bells and whistles, the influencer machine steamrolls her. And when a dead body becomes a part of the exhibit, the vapid nature of owning an idea comes into focus as she, her assistant Kiki Gorman (Jenna Ortega), Stella, and the world’s most famous art broker, Marianne Gorman (Catherine Zeta-Jones), have to convince a man to buy a decaynig body, just to make himself feel big. 

The Gallerist (2025) is Cathy Yan’s campy return to Sundance.

The tight 88-minute film does waver as it transitions acts, with each new layer adding more chaos to the story of the snowballing accident. Add in the offensive accent from Daniel Brühl that I almost forgive because of how funny his character is, and the issues aren’t close to enough to unsettle the absurdly fun risks that The Gallerist takes. Every new character added to the mess makes it better, and that is a big achievement.

Still, even with that, the chemistry between the core of the ensemble cast is electric. Natalie Portman, Jenna Ortega, Da’Vine Joy Randolph, and Catherine Zeta-Jones effortlessly pass jokes back and forth, switching from overt punchlines to dark humor and deadpan. Additionally, the situational comedy they each find themselves in keeps the film’s near-erratic pace on the rails. With killer costuming—yes, even Portman’s hooved shoes—the women of The Gallerist are simply excellent.

The surprising element of each character is that their eccentricities are wrapped around insecurities that make them feel human rather than cartoonish, despite the film’s sometimes overwhelming use of camp. Necessary, the human moments of panic and emotion give The Gallerist depth. 

The Gallerist’s ensemble cast is in chaotic electric harmony.

For Polina, her worry of feeling insignificant and being overlooked drives her need to succeed, even if it means leaving her body. Stella is worried about her future and being stuck in this new caricature of who she was as an artist. Kiki is just trying to keep any future at all. And finally, Marianne is aiming to be the best, and having sold a debut piece for the highest price ever is just what she needs, fresh out of jail. 

Each of the women have their own drive that pushes them to make sure that their lie succeeds and the accident remains a secret, but ultimately, everything they do, they do for themselves. How they do it is where the humor really shines as each woman manipulates the men around them, and none of them is the wiser. 

The men in the film aren’t to be discounted, just played with, and they play their parts perfectly as well. Sterling K. Brown enters the film as a man still very in love with the woman he divorced, Daniel Brühl is a manic rich boy with his father’s money and a horribly thought-through accent, and Youssef Kerkour is a kind security guard named Doug, who walks away as a breath of fresh air and calm respite for the film. 

A feminist comedy of errors, The Gallerist is a raucous good time.

Outside of the characters, the production design makes this film stand out. Aesthetically, the sharp contrast of the characters against the stark white gallery walls and floor brings calm, and the quick switch to panic when they open the vibrant colored doors to retreat to the restroom, back room, or office.

The Gallerist’s visual language is absolutely stunning. Cathy Yan’s directorial eye, as it moves through the gallery, is one of the film’s best elements. The scene evolves as her camera moves, altering the atmosphere.

A comedy of errors that calls out the ridiculousness of pricing art, buying art, and changing its meaning (oh, and influencers), The Gallerist is always funny and never stale. While it doesn’t reach perfection, this feminist comedy that routinely picks apart art is one to watch. 

The Gallerist screened as a part of the 2026 Sundance Film Festival.