Regina Hall and Aubrey Plaza rule the screen in two highlights from Sundance

Concerns around eliminating gendered acting categories at awards shows are often based in the fear that, without a category specifically designated to spotlight women, all of the most celebrated performances of every year would be by cisgender men. And that may be true—given the demographic makeup of who votes for, say, the Oscars, it might be a while before the big ceremonies are prepared to prioritize the amazing work being done by women, especially Black women, in movies. But if a male actor has given a performance with the depth and expressiveness of Regina Hall and Aubrey Plaza’s at this year’s festival, I have yet to see it.

There’s a strong case to be made for Hall as the MVP of Sundance. I enjoyed her work in Master, but it’s Adamma Ebo’s debut feature, Honk For Jesus. Save Your Soul, that boasts the better of her two starring performances at this year’s festival, even if the film itself is as frustrating as it is compelling. Hall stars as Trinitie Childs, the faithful wife of disgraced Atlanta megachurch pastor Lee-Curtis Childs (Sterling K. Brown). In a post-screening Q&A, Ebo claims she adopted a mockumentary framework to lend Trinitie and Lee-Curtis a textual reason to “turn on” when the cameras were present. But Honk For Jesus. Save Your Soul does not apply this device seamlessly.

Still, it’s well worth pushing past any nitpicking to get to Hall’s expressive, inspired performance. In case you weren’t aware, the most terrifying person in America is a sweet Southern lady when she’s being passive aggressive, and there’s a scene in this film where the “bless your heart”s cut like a knife in the ribs. The layers of surface politeness and covert hatred turn out to be the key to understanding Trinitie: She’s a woman who endures humiliation after humiliation because that’s what she’s been taught she has to do.

Honk For Jesus. Save Your Soul also calls out the hypocrisy of church figures passing judgement on LGBTQ people while engaging in sexual misconduct. In the end, though, the film is most compelling as a character study. The humor can be very silly, but Hall keeps pushing her scenes towards something deeper: There’s a moment towards the end of the movie where Hall, dressed in a comedic costume I won’t reveal here, delivers a monologue that should be taught in acting schools. Where a lesser actor would have come off as ridiculous, she skirts self-parody by grounding her character in emotional truth and lending her a heartbreaking pathos. We’re watching the ultimate humiliation of a broken woman, who’s trapped and doesn’t know where else there is to go.

There’s not a lot of humor in Emily The Criminal. But there is a compelling lead character, and a strong undercurrent of all-American desperation. Here, the unseen threat is the insurmountable, continually increasing pile of debt that has forced our protagonist, frustrated artist Emily (Aubrey Plaza), into a 21st-century form of indentured servitude. Unable to keep up with the interest on her student loans, and unable to get a higher-paying job thanks to a pair of embarrassing stains on her permanent record, Emily throws every penny she makes at a GrubHub analogue at her creditors each month. As an independent contractor, she has no hope of ever getting ahead.

That is, until an under-the-table hookup from a co-worker introduces Emily to the exciting world of credit card fraud. Writer-director John Patton Ford turns up the heat on Emily’s criminal activities like the frog in the proverbial pot, upping the stakes with each new scam. Viewers are left to ask themselves: Would I buy a TV with a stolen credit card for $200? How about a car for $2,000? What would I do if I had $70,000 in debt and no legal way to pay it off? A subplot involving Emily’s art-school buddy who gets her an interview at an advertising agency just reinforces how trapped she is, while offering some biting commentary about the myth of meritocracy.

Emily’s cynical story is a shadow version of the American Dream, as she strikes out on her own with nothing more than a burner phone, a taser, an embossing machine, and a desire for a better life. Her literal partner in crime, Youcef (Theo Rossi), is an immigrant from Lebanon, which deepens the theme. This is a juicy role, one that allows Plaza to explore the nuances of her signature deadpan style, from stoic anguish to steely determination. Amoral, complex roles like this one are still too rarely given to female leads, and you could easily picture Emily as a character in a Michael Mann movie. She’s certainly willing to walk out on in 30 seconds flat if she feels the heat around the corner.

Plaza was the driving force behind getting Emily The Criminal made, producing the film with her company, Evil Hag Productions, after reading Ford’s script. Usually, when Plaza makes such a move, the results are a cut above the films she makes with major studios. (See also: 2020's Black Bear or 2017's Ingrid Goes West.) Hall doesn’t have a producer credit on Honk For Jesus. Save Your Soul, but she did executive produce Master, and recently signed a first-look deal with Showtime through her own production company, Rh Negative. Both of these actors have done their time in broad comedies (remember when Hall was in Scary Movie?) and it’s exciting to see them branching out and taking control of their own artistic voices. Sundance may not have a Best Actress category, but in my mind, they’ve both won big at this festival.