Auteurs, the Boss, a Beatle and more

Slate includes Zhao, Berger, a Springsteen feature, McCartney's 1970s home movies.

- BY JOSH ROTTENBERG

VIVIEN KILLILEA Getty Images

THE SCENIC SETTING of Telluride, Colo., adds to the film festival's appeal.

In recent years, film festivals haven't felt all that festive.

Audiences have dwindled, streaming has upended viewing habits and the pandemic and Hollywood strikes have rattled the industry, leaving even the most glamorous events to fight for their place on the cultural calendar.

Then there's Telluride. For more than a half-century, the tiny mountain gathering has thrived as a kind of anti-festival: no red carpets, no prizes, no tuxedos, just movies. Perched 8,750 feet up in a box canyon in the Colorado Rockies, it's reachable only by twisting roads or a white-knuckle drop into one of the nation's highest airports. Festival passes are pricey and limited in number, which makes Telluride feel at once intimate and exclusive. With the festival catering largely to an industry crowd, that isolation and tight-knit atmosphere have become part of its mystique, and the promise of early Oscar buzz keeps filmmakers, stars and cinephiles making the pilgrimage. Since 2009, only five best picture winners have skipped Telluride on their way to the top prize.

"It's so hard to get to Telluride you don't end up here by accident," festival executive director Julie Huntsinger says by phone.

"We've always felt it's incumbent on us to show either brand-new things or extraordinary things that make your time worth it. You know how cats will bring you a mouse? I always feel like I'm bringing you a mouse or a bird, and I just hope you'll like it." Rolling out over Labor Day weekend, the 52nd Telluride Film Festival will supply a slate of fresh offerings, including a handful of world premieres. Scott Cooper's "Springsteen: Deliver Me From Nowhere" drops Jeremy Allen White into the boots of the Boss, tracing the creation of his stark 1982 album, "Nebraska."