Two Sundance documentaries capture Gen Z’s drive to shape their futures—whether through the power of speech or the digital hustle.
This is one in a series of film reviews from the 2025 Sundance Film Festival, focused on films by women, trans or nonbinary directors that tell compelling stories about the lives of women and girls.
While the comparison may seem strange at first, two Gen-Z-centered films that were part of the U.S. Documentary Competition at Sundance this year have more in common than meets the eye.
Speak., directed by Jennifer Tiexiera and Guy Mossman, offers an inspirational look at high school debate champions and hopefuls, following five teens from across the country as they try to make it to the National Championships in Original Oratory.
Sugar Babies, directed by Rachel Fleit, is an intimate portrait of Autumn, a TikTok influencer from rural Louisiana who’s determined to pay her way through college and beyond as a cyber sugar baby—getting paid to talk to men online without ever meeting them in person.
For her part, Autumn graduated from high school at 16 with a full-time university scholarship, only to lose that scholarship when the demands of school and work proved more difficult than she expected. She worked as a waitress, then lost her job during the pandemic. That’s when Autumn, an enterprising, bubbly young woman with a strategic approach to life, hit on the idea that would become her bread and butter for several years: She’d talk to men online, flirt, get them to send her money or buy her things, but never see them in real life.
Eventually, Autumn is successful enough that she’s able to return to school, paying most of her tuition from virtual sugar baby work and as a social media influencer or, in her words, a “sugar baby mentor,” helping other young women learn how to get paid talking to men online. But she’s also just a normal teenager, hanging out with her close-knit group of friends and her siblings. From Rushton, a city portrayed in the film as heavily divided by social class, Autumn desperately seeks the opportunities she hopes to have once she graduates, but the ties of family and familiarity—not to mention the troubling state of her career prospects—conspire to keep her close to home.
Whereas Autumn struggles to align her feelings of digital empowerment with the material circumstances of her life, the teens in Speak. seem at first to have everything figured out. They’re also smart, resourceful and opinionated; each one has a real shot at making it far in the world of high school debate. They’re writing and performing great speeches about important issues. They’re high-achieving students with supportive families. But, at the same time, they all face challenges that may aid or hinder them on the path to the championship.
Speak.’s subjects are dynamic, charming kids—and you’ll want to root for each of them, even though only one can win.
There’s Esther, an American Nigerian pastor’s daughter from Fort Lauderdale, Fla.; she’s the defending champion and has written an impassioned speech about how politicians use “protect the children” rhetoric to accumulate power.
Noor, from Brownfield, Texas, uses her speech to advocate for her brother, who has Down’s Syndrome and autism, and others like him. She receives special support from her mother, a teacher and speech coach who often struggles to get funding from their school district, which is primarily devoted to funding sports.
Sam, from Moorhead, Minn., and Noah, from San Antonia, Texas, also rely on their personal experiences as foundations for their speeches. Sam’s speech on how nostalgia is weaponized to push forward anti-LGBTQ legislation reflects his Catholic upbringing and his own gay identity. Noah, whose mother committed suicide, attempts to use his speech to consider the ethics of the “right to die” as an important aspect of a life well-lived.
Finally, Mfaz of Apple Valley, Minn., who placed sixth at nationals the previous year, is from the Sudan, and has several million followers on TikTok, hones her speech over months of competition to address how shame is used as a form of oppression.
While the subjects of Speak. and Sugar Babies follow divergent paths along the road to achieving some sliver of the American Dream—social status, financial stability, recognition of their talent—all of them are asking pressing questions about the precarity of the future and if they have what it takes to tackle it head on. And both films boil down to a similar message: Even when things are darkest, the future gets brighter when you bring your own light.
