The Musical was high on my Sundance 2026 watch list. Partly because first-time director Giselle Bonilla is a Latino Film Institute x Netflix Inclusion Fellow, and I do my best to also support our filmmakers. As the festival went on, I only got more excited to see it because Bonilla was a delight everywhere she went – shouting out her immigrant parents, supporting other Latinx projects, and generally bringing the fun (we’re talking about a woman who did the Lasso on the Eccles stage in front of more than one thousand people).
But of course, I also wanted to see it because the plot sounded like my type of thing. The film follows a frustrated playwright Doug (Will Brill) turned middle-school theater teacher who becomes enraged when his ex (Gillian Jacobs) starts dating the school’s principal (Rob Lowe). To get revenge, he sabotages the school’s shot at a Blue Ribbon distinction by mounting an original musical lampooning 9/11 while pretending to stage the approved West Side Story.
About a third of the way through, I worried I’d picked wrong. Sundance audiences can be overly sympathetic. Packed with film teams and their guests, they can be more like a friends and family screening. This crowd was laughing at every little thing, while I was just sitting there, wondering if The Musical just wasn’t my brand of humor.
But there was no real cause for concern, because by the end, I was laughing so hard I was wiping tears from my face. You see, The Musical is all about critiquing white guys’ belief in their own greatness, even when the world is so clearly telling them otherwise. And it smartly avoids cruelty and heavy-handedness by pairing its fierce critique of its grown-up characters with the heart and humor of its diverse middle-school cast.
That dynamic clearly carried off-screen, with the vibe on full display at the post-premiere panel. Bonilla brought up the youth cast and carried the mic to each one as they answered the simple question: “Can you tell us how you got to where you are now?” Ever the comedic director, Bonilla translated and teased the kids’ answers, making the whole thing that much more delightful.
Further adding to the comedy of the absurd, the final audience question was, “What was your cue that it was not too soon to write a 9/11 comedy?” Which I can’t stop laughing about. It’s such a funny misread of the film. Partly because we only see montages of Doug’s (clearly terrible) production. But also because The Musical knows that Doug is not a frustrated genius. The joke is on him, and so the gag is really about how much you cannot make a 9/11 comedy… while sort of doing it. It’s the sort of extended juxtaposition that just gets funnier as it goes.
As an ex-theater kid (and obviously now entertainment-industry adjacent), I appreciated how The Musical gently satirizes the subculture. There were the standard personalities – the try-too-hard, the supportive follower, the frustrated creative. The way a production becomes a team, its own ecosystem with its own set of rules and hierarchy (not to mention the adoration kids give their drama teachers – deserved or not). And of course, conversation around who gets to play María in West Side Story.
The Musical is a warm, devastating caricature – the type that can be only made when the folks involved love and understand what they’re critiquing. Case in point, Rob Lowe shared this from the Sundance stage: “I have memories of being eight years old and running out to the bulletin board. And I never made it out of the chorus. Never did, never did Music Man Winthrope, nope. Chorus, Oliver, not Oliver, nope.” It’s part encouragement, part roast, all wrapped up in one knowing bow.
So yes, The Musical lampoons pettiness and particularly the pettiness of entitled, white artists. But it does so from such a close range as to be self-reflection. Indeed, Bonilla admitted that she and her crew “kind of turned into Doug,” breaking down and taking their set with them each day after filming so the real school they used for their location wouldn’t know what they were up to. Just like the fictional drama club does to keep up their ruse that they’re really practising West Side Story.
It’s smart, generous satire — engineered for big laughs without softening its loving but damning critique. The Musical is certainly a stunning debut for Giselle Bonilla. I’m hoping she has a long, ambitious career ahead of her, with many more opportunities to deliver sharper laughs than even Sundance audiences bargain for.
