Rebuilding is the second wildfire-centered drama about new beginnings after tragedy to premiere at the 2025 Sundance Film Festival, a theme that feels especially relevant given the devastating LA wildfires earlier in the same month. It is a very subdued film that carries a compelling, well-intentioned message, which, like Train Dreams, is more powerful than the film itself.
The film follows Dusty (Josh O’Connor), a reserved and introverted Colorado rancher who is forced to confront the loss of his home and livelihood after wildfires destroy his way of life.
Director Max Walker-Silverman brings personal authenticity to the film, drawing on his own experiences with wildfire and family loss. There is genuine empathy felt through every frame of the film, specially in the way people interact. His humane approach is evident in how he portrays his characters—there are no villains here, just people trying their best to rebuild their lives. Even the cramped trailer spaces are filmed with a cozy warmth, reflecting the small comforts people create under challenging circumstances. At the Sundance premiere, the heartfelt applause from his crew showed his kindness and the respect he inspires. That same sensitivity shines through in the film’s intimate cinematography, which captures both the stillness and the struggles of Dusty’s journey. The glow-in-the-dark stars decorating the walls, along with the painted trailer at the end, become straightforward yet memorable symbols of the film’s central theme of perseverance.
Yet, for all its tenderness, the film does feel relatively empty at times. It is a very straightforward film with very little complexity, which makes the movie feel rather twee at times. The frequent use of montages, combined with Jake Xerxes Fussell’s sparse guitar score, begins to feel repetitive, creating a meditative yet stagnant rhythm in the film.
The film centers on Dusty, whose real name is Thomas Jr., and the film uses character arc, from a man who once abandoned his family for his work, and how he is reconciling with his small daughter, as the entry point on the lives of people who lost everything they had. The film offers some interactions between Dusty and others in similar situations to his, and these moments are very reminiscent of those in Nomadland. There is a scene where two elderly ladies sing, and another where someone shares a glimpse into their personal worlds, a plantation. Casting non-professional actors in supporting roles lends authenticity to these moments.
Josh O’Connor portrays Dusty quite well. Full of nuance and convincing as a cowboy, he, just like Frances McDormand in Nomadland, can disappear into the cast of real-life people remarkably well. His character’s extreme introversion does keep us at a distance, even if we care for him. He is so reserved and self-contained that it’s easy to respect his need for space—so much so that, as a viewer, you might find yourself wanting to leave him alone to sort out his own thoughts. His young daughter, Callie Rose, is played by the lovely Lily LaTorre, whose warmth and vitality give the film a much-needed spark. More than any other relationship, that is the one that sticks with you.
I do wish we got a clearer sense of who Dusty was before the fire, beyond a few hints. It’s harder to fully appreciate the depth of his transformation, even if the last minutes of the film might make you shed some tears.
Overall, Rebuilding is a tender, understated film that will resonate with viewers who appreciate quiet, meditative storytelling. Its sincerity and warmth have deeply moved many, and Max Walker-Silverman has crafted a film full of humanity, empathy, and hope. Its slow pace and a protagonist who remains emotionally distant may make it less engaging for those seeking a more dynamic narrative. Still, as a reflection on resilience and connection in the wake of tragedy, Rebuilding offers a poignant and thoughtful experience.