Based on the groundbreaking 1947 book The Everglades: River of Grass by American journalist and environmental activist Marjory Stoneman Douglas, River of Grass is a present-day ode to the Florida Everglades and the feature documentary debut of Florida-raised artist and filmmaker Sasha Wortzel. Equal parts hypnotic and informative, the film features rare archival footage of Douglas and testimonials from several subjects including Indigenous activist Betty Osceola. Premiering at the 2025 True/False Film Festival, River of Grass is set for a theatrical release in select U.S. theaters by Fourth Act Film and Grasshopper Film.
The film opens with a mesmerizing close-up of the Everglades’ freshwaters at night, Wortzel herself narrating a personal anecdote of her younger self innocently searching the shore for sea turtles. The gentle composition by Angélica Negrón abruptly transforms into TV static as the viewer is thrust into a devastating timelapsed clip showcasing destruction from a hurricane.

Wortzel’s voice reappears, introducing Douglas as a “celebrated environmentalist” who came to her in a dream. Archival footage briefly summarizes the history of the Everglades and a modern-day testimonial from community leader and educator Osceola recounts Douglas’s co-opting of the phrase “river of grass” from the Miccosukee people. This sometimes seamless and sometimes sporadic stitching together of clips from various subjects, perspectives, and time periods highlights the film’s multimedia, kaleidoscopic feel as it attempts to paint a vivid picture of the Everglades for a previously uninformed audience.
One of the highlights of this documentary is its centering of marginalized—particularly Indigenous—voices as it seeks to answer a fundamental question: Why do the Florida Everglades deserve to be protected? While segments of prayer walks along the Everglades led by Osceola and testimonials held in nature from Two-Spirit poet, artist, and activist Houston R. Cypress are some of the most compelling of the documentary, both stories become lost in the film’s narrative as it insists on adding more and more names to its long list of subjects.
Another instance of a strength transforming into a weakness in River of Grass is its gorgeous cinematography by J. Bennett that is buried by an excess of testimonials and archival footage edited in by Wortzel and Rebecca Adorno. While each story told in these various clips are important, some are not given proper context or introduction for the amount of time that they’re focused on, while others are barely featured at all, begging the question of why they were included in the first place.
Clearly, River of Grass admirably strives to put a spotlight on numerous individuals and groups impacted by the manmade destruction of the Everglades. In doing so, however, not only are stories key to the film’s central narrative brushed to the side, but so, too, are the lovely shots of the Everglades, grounding moments of breath cut away from too soon.

With all of this said, River of Grass is still a captivating—albeit mildly meandering—watch. Despite the bloated material, editors Wortzel and Adorno do an impressive job of weaving various archival clips, present-day testimonials, and visual love letters to the Everglades in only a matter of 80 minutes, Wortzel’s poetic narration acting as a gentle throughline.
Part-educational and part-experimental, the River of Grass underscores the importance of community when attempting to preserve a place so integral to inhabitants—like the Miccosukee people—and their identities. As Cypress walks through a breathtaking dome of trees, describing how nature can be a sort of chosen family, the viewer understands. As Osceola leads a prayer walk, peacefully protesting the destruction of the Everglades, the viewer understands.
These small moments in an otherwise larger project are what make River of Grass so memorable. As a U.S. detention center for undocumented immigrants known as Alligator Alcatraz currently operates at the heart of the Florida Everglades, it’s important, now more than ever, to spotlight the voices of the marginalized in an effort to not only preserve the Everglades, but also to make sure that its land is no longer disturbed by the violent—and, unfortunately, oftentimes systemic—forces of mankind.

