All posts by Giles Edwards

Film major & would-be writer. 6'3". @gilesforyou (TwT)
Capsules

2026 FANTASIA FILM FESTIVAL: NOM NOM NOM, PART ONE

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Montréal 2026

I briefly met a Danish fellow and complimented him on his film; he in turn complimented me on my jacket.

7/16: Kung Fu

Opening night, late night. Following my descent into Refn’s dreamscape, I took in a new kung fu comedy by Giddens Ko. An eight-century-old master of an esoteric martial art convinces two teenage losers to become his disciples, hoping to unlock their strength to aid him in his fight against his nemesis. Kung Fu delivers plenty of kung fu, as well as plenty of laughs in the first half (cheesy wuxia-style flashbacks with knock-off screen legends, and more snakes than I could count—for training, you see). The second half goes dark, as underlying causes come to the fore. While the stars are the fighting threesome (excuse me, foursome:the  young, non-loser contemporary of the losers is a vivacious hoot),the  nebulous Government Man steals every scene he’s in, providing an unanticipated menace.

7/17: Tunnels: Sun in the Dark

Chuyen Bui Thac walks a fine line (crawls a narrow passage?) with Tunnels, set within and above a circuit of rooms and tunnels inhabited by a couple dozen Viet-Cong fighters. The arrival of a clandestine intelligence group coinciding with the appearance of an eager outsider triggers tension. It was thrilling to experience the claustrophobia and comradery, as weapon and survival skills were on display (the outsider, in particular, showed an eagerness that bordered on death wish: watching him remove the explosive element of a failed bomb by heating the casing over a fire was… tensely amusing). Kudos to the director for his deft storytelling, and in particular for giving the Yankee soldiers far more fair a shake than expected. War is hell, and Chuyen Bui Thac makes it clear that none of these poor souls should have had to be caught up in its evil.

Trauma Or, Monsters All

Going for broke, ties together three of his earlier movies (Habit, Depraved, and Blackout) in the story of a young woman recently moved to Talbot Falls, NY, hoping for a quiet environment in which to work on her historical book about George Washington Carver (“You know, the peanut guy.”) When she observes strange activity by a neighbor’s Continue reading 2026 FANTASIA FILM FESTIVAL: NOM NOM NOM, PART ONE →

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FANTASIA 2026: APOCRYPHA CANDIDATE: ZSAZSA ZATURNNAH (2026)

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AKA Zsazsa Zaturnnah vs the Amazonistas of Planet X

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DIRECTED BY: Avid Liongoren

FEATURING: Voices of Phi Palmos, Adrienne Vergara, Io Balanon, Siglo Pecho, Joelle Yuvienco

PLOT: Ada, owner of a local hair salon, has a crush on the  grocer across the street and must rise to heights of heroism to defeat murderous aliens from planet Planet X.

Still from Zsazsa Zsaturnnah (2026)

WHY IT MIGHT JOIN THE APOCRYPHA: The fact that this is one of the queerest movies I’ve seen, both in the modern sense and the word’s original definition, tips my balance of judgment here. A string of silly, sexualized kaiju encounters (eggplant, anyone?) culminate in a showdown involving a cock-and-balls super weapon, so there’s certainly that, too. Zsazsa might make for a great animated sci-fi queer double feature alongside Strange Frame.

COMMENTS: Ada enjoys his quiet life, in his quiet town, working at his quiet hair salon. He enjoys, a great deal, innocently ogling Dodong from his viewpoint across the street (often falling into an inadvertent drool as the comic-book visuals morph into Steel-y pastels of hunkitude). He enjoys, somewhat less, the company of Didi, his in-your-face assistant who somehow managed to land devotedly in his employ. He enjoys, not at all, the prospect of devouring a large space rock—emblazoned with the enigmatic word, “ZATURNNAH”—at Didi’s behest; but as Didi quips, Ada has had no difficulty fitting large things into his mouth before. Open wide, gulp, fizz, blast, and behold our superhero: muscle-bound, flowing-haired, curvaceously-carressable Zsazsa!

Adapated from a comic series, and previously interpreted in live action both on screen and on stage, Zsazsa is wholly unleashed in its animated form. Avid Liongoren pushes the vibrant versatility of the medium to fabulous, fantastical heights as colors grab the eye and zippy lines whoosh us through mighty battles, culminating in a zombie horde ka-powing before the actual final showdown. That battle, against the strange forces behind the series of invasions that plague the small town, squares us off against an odd bit of commentary: a mighty queen from a far off planet who has destroyed all men and believes that Zsazsa is wholly female. There is a smirking tension in Zsazsa between misandry, misogyny, and a nebulous middle thingy. Ada is, quite firmly, a gay man, though with classically feminine tendencies, and the queen of Planet X has no experience with this.

But I risk taking things too seriously. Zsazsa bursts with Lisa Frank energy from the get-go, and the pep doesn’t let up throughout the movie. In the midst of the endless sight gags, zippy one-liners, and cartoonish combat is a message: strength comes from within, and it has nothing to do with whatever spiky space rock you may have deep-throated into yourself.

WHAT THE CRITICS SAY:

“… the actual subject of the film perfectly accentuates the strangeness of its animated frames… Fans of campy cinema, drag aesthetics, and comic-book fantasy should have an absolute blast with this wild genre combo.” — Joshua Hayes, Josh at the Movies (festival screening)

Interviews

“GODHEAD” SERMON: THE REVIEWER, THE DIRECTOR, AND THE HOLY GHOST

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Read Giles Edwards’ complete review of Godhead.

Giles Edwards met up with in a luxury hotel room. But don’t worry: Mark wasn’t staying there, he was just borrowing the space. Splashing out for some room service on his brother’s tab, we chatted for an hour about Mark’s new movie, theology, and the intersection of religion and cinema. It ends with the Fantasia audience Q&A from the film’s world debut.

List Candidates

FANTASIA 2026: APOCRYPHA CANDIDATE: GODHEAD (2026)

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DIRECTED BY: 

FEATURING: Al Warren, Sarah Coffey, Kimball Farley, Luke Speakman

PLOT: Fraternal twins enter a Catholic church and demand the priest shoot one of them so that the Holy Spirit may be set free.

Still from Godhead (2026)

WHY IT MIGHT JOIN THE APOCRYPHA: Rapaport again slides an odd one across our desk, as his sophomore effort kicks off Funny Games-style before converting into fully blown mystical madness.

COMMENTS: What is the Holy Ghost? One would think that the metaphysical world is sufficiently inscrutable without theorizing about an entity that lacks substance in a realm that is already beyond the perceivable. A more-vaporous vapor, it travels without constraints in a realm already lacking any constraints mortals might conceive. Though utterly incorporeal, this Ghost can apparently still be trapped in a vessel—a human vessel no less. And although its selfhood cannot be fathomed, even we lowly, three-dimensional meat-and-bone creatures are aware that no one, nothing, wants to be trapped.

This musing is amongst the prerequisite considerations when approaching Mark H. Rapaport’s sophomore feature, Godhead. Creepy twins, named Firstborn (Sarah Coffey, slipping around the screen with serpentine malevolence) and Secondborn (Kimball Farley, trapped in his own spastic discomfiture), seem all too familiar with the “primary” third of the Godhead. The Creator; the twins claim It speaks to them. A small town priest (a mild and exhausted Al Warren) knows the triune Son, and also has an earthly son (Luke Speakman), a boy found as an infant found in a shopping basket on his doorstep and now stowed away in the back rooms of the church. A night-long journey through menace, hope, despair, and impossibility develops between these four characters.

Godhead has a delightful, temporally ambiguous style. Low tech, the story often plays like a classical Hollywood morality tale (and that title font, oh yes). Cinematographer William Babock is on board once more, whipping up stark church imagery to contrast with the occasionally-seen “other” world from whence came the uncanny siblings. There is an odd sense of humor sprinkled about. While the priest is berated by Firstborn, Secondborn earnestly helps him with a dust pan as the priest fretfully sweeps the church. A delightful scene with the boy-in-the-backroom features a static-glowing television; the director slips in an exchange which encapsulates anticipated reactions to his movie: “I’m not sure what this is.” “I do not like it.”

Rapaport and his tight cast alternate between punches of shock (gunplay in the sanctum is frowned upon, I can assure you), feints of deceit (a pair of hearse-bound conversations tip this film into hard-R-rating), and a third act which darts seamlessly, and often, between the mundane and the divine. The climax ratchets from one kind of weird into another. I did not expect Rapaport to be so gracious to his own creations. But that is within the dimension of possibility when you are a filmmaker: you are your own movie’s Godhead.

WHAT THE CRITICS SAY:

“[T]he film’s commitment to its own strangeness will also be the dividing line… plenty of films chase weirdness without understanding how to shape it. Rapaport does.” — Chris Jones, Overly Honest Reviews (festival screening)

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FANTASIA 2026: APOCRYPHA CANDIDATE: TEENAGE SEX AND DEATH AT CAMP MIASMA (2026)

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DIRECTED BY:

FEATURING: Hannah Einbinder, Gillian Anderson

PLOT: An up-and-coming filmmaker tasked with rebooting a horror franchise arranges a meeting with the reclusive star of the original film.

Still from Teenage Sex and Death at Camp Miasma (2026)

WHY IT MIGHT JOIN THE APOCRYPHA: My weirdar blipped plenty during the screening, but it’s difficult to get a bead on specifics. There’s a great scene sexualizing the act of eating fried chicken with dipping sauce, so I’ll drop that here for now as a placeholder.

COMMENTS: From the beginning, Kris showcases her love of candy. For a planned overnight trip to middle of nowhere, she stocks up on a grocery bag full of the stuff. As much as she loves her candy, she loves Little Death more. No, not the French euphemism for an orgasm (we’ll get to that later), but the air-vent-headed, double-tipped harpoon-toting murderer from the Camp Miasma franchise that Kris grew up adoring and has been assigned to reboot. Re-watching a lesser entry in the series during a stopover before her inspirational awakening (in manner both creative, and orgasmic), we watch her watching whilst she gorges on an impressive amount of sweet cinema snacks.

Watching. That’s what Teenage Sex and Death at Camp Miasma is about, I reckon, while delivering the dozens of trope-nods (mainly, sex -> murder, or at least death, if only a little one) necessary for a slasher dissection. The hotel movie-‘n’-candy orgy launches the long weekend with the enigmatic and aged Billy (Gillian Anderson, in a lovely Southern Gothic turn), star of the franchise’s opening installation. Kris grew up watching (young) Billy’s strange look of detachment during the film’s sex scene. We now watch Billy as she playfully parries with this talented but staggeringly insecure filmmaker before her. Kris watches Billy sketch violently during a 35mm screening of the old movie in her home. And watching both of them, it seems, is the mysterious Little Death.

(Apologies for this parenthetical paragraph—though I’m sure Kris would understand, as she’s constantly apologizing for parentheticalizing—but this review has so far turned out to be more about candy than I was anticipating. Several other elements worth noting briefly: old film merging with this new film as per the designs of Little Death in their lair beneath the lake; an absurd Zoom call with the studio that collapses into performance art; and the bloodiest sex scene I have yet seen.)

With nearly two-hours to unpack, Teenage Sex… has a great deal to chew over. On the other hand, Schoenbrun somehow turns the corner from meta-movie back into movie-movie: their film is about what we see. Schoenbrun’s tremendous love of movies channels the past, with its slasher classics; the present, with its journey of self-discovery and acceptance; and a hint at the future, through the coda in the nearby convenience store. Kris and Billy, still dolled up in the scant attire and buckets of blood from their climactic encounter, meander the aisles, Kris explaining which gummies are the best. Kris would know: of her various quests in life, few have been more exhaustive or satisfying than this one. Anchored now by more than candy, she is better equipped to chase down her greatest love: making movies.

WHAT THE CRITICS SAY:

“…a wonderfully warped and weird queer spin on Friday the 13th that proves horror has, and always will be, for the shes, gays, and theys.”–Kat Hughes, The Hollywood News (festival screening)