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Montréal, 2023
I am ensconced above three delightful restaurants just two blocks from the venue. This is almost criminal.
7/20: Mami Wata
A period of transition threatens the village of Iyi, a period that has been a long-time coming. C.J. “Fiery” Obasi’s film plays out with beautiful cinematography full of closeups of decorated black tribesfolk whose faith in Mami Wata, the goddess of water, begins to crumble just as a stranger washes ashore near their isolated village. Modernity has barely touched this world, wherein two sisters (adopted daughters of the village’s “Intermediary”, or chieftess/priestess) must restore their villager’s safety, their own sovereignty, and faith in their life-giving deity.
While watching Mami Wata, the thought occurred that black and white is wasted on white folk. The natural lighting on the tribal make-up adorning the high priestess and her daughters, the chiaroscuro (both generally, and particularly when light plays around and through the intricate hairstyles), and the lively incidental sheen from the beautiful dark tones of the actors make for a visual experience I had not before seen. The story has classically tragic overtones, and a strange twist to events during the climax before the state of affairs is put to rights, and any doubts of the villagers are quelled with a truly striking vision in tidal blues, greens, and browns.
Blackout
Larry Fessenden is no stranger to monster movies; in one form or another, they’re just about his entire oeuvre. Blackout starts with a bit of classic-style violence—a “hard” R-rated update to the ’30s monster scene—and quickly segues into social commentary: pro-immigration, anti-environmental destruction, pro-MILF-y lawyers, &c. It’s an odd combination of breezy charm, small town melodrama, intermittent eccentricity, and, of course, supernatural horror.
It is also quite obviously a project enjoyed by everyone involved in it. Performances range from “meh-but-good-enough” (looking at you, Marshall Bell) to “I’m impressed that I’m believing this guy” (Alex Hurt, looking rather like Tom Cruise or Chuck Norris, depending upon his beardedness in the scene), to “we are touching sublimely odd” (Joseph Castillo-Midyett, who never found a middle-distance he didn’t prefer to look toward, or a cup of coffee he didn’t want to empty before ever taking a sip). As with so much of the output from Fessenden and the larger family of contemporary horror creatives, the technical floor of quality is more than high enough, with random reaches up toward that genre’s ceiling: some unlikely animation, some delightfully subtle swapping out of painted with real environmental shots, and a variety of believably upstate New York townsfolk getting a little worried about the growing pile of mutilated corpses.
7/21: Apocalypse Clown
It’s in the name, so you can easily tell if you’re interested: there’s an apocalypse, and there are clowns. George Kane’s very clowny comedy is an easygoing affair, and a decent example of the noble art of “serious stupidity.” It takes some time to get on its feet (clown shoes being the size they are, this is forgivable), but by the halfway mark, both director and actors figure out what kind of movie they are making. The occasionally disappointing shenanigans of the front bit become an increasingly distant memory as Bobo, Funzo, and Pepe (or, when they learn to accept their actual selves, Ken, Janet, and Dean) rally together for a pleasantly silly incursus extremus to thwart the Great Alphonso’s world-dominating (or at least, Ireland-dominating) machinations.
7/22: A Chinese Ghost Story (1987)
The ominous notice, “Original 35-mm Print Screening!”, was tempered toward unalloyed grandeur by the whimsical, supernatural elements to enjoy throughout this oddity. This is a quirky movie, with charmingly dated special effects, stylized performances, gauzy ghostliness, and even an out-of-the-blue Pop ’80s swordsman rap. (Don’t worry: I have hunted it down for you.) A traveling tax collector idiot falls afoul of most passersby, but somehow survives to help the kingdom (he does eventually collect his taxes), befriend a wandering holy warrior (take a drink with each “that goddamn Taoist!”), and save the soul of a young royal ghostess who’s been doomed by a tongue-ful Evil Tree spirit to marry a dark lord of the underworld. This delightful diversion crams together heavily 1980s soft-porn camerawork and lens-work, ancient Chinese myth, and Evil Dead vibes—all transmitted by flickering celluloid.
7/23: Sand Land
Toshihisa Yokoshima so far has top prize for “most rollicking” film at Fantasia. (I’ll try to remember to update in the Comments on the off chance he loses this crown.) Sand Land, to describe it for the gaijin (myself included), is an adventure animation done up in a style reminiscent of the video-game “Borderlands” series. (As I said, gaijin: I am slowly absorbing more anime, but am still miles from educated.) In a dryyyyyyy future, a small town Sheriff and the demons Beelzebub and Thief (mind the former of that pair: that’s “Prince Beelzebub” to you) go on an action-packed road trip in search of a legendary oasis, but get wind of a royal conspiracy that might just explain why their land has become so parched. Lively style, as to be expected from a film based on work of Dragonball Z auteur Akira Toriyama. This is probably at the highest possible intersection point on my “Family-Friendly” / “Recommendable” graph.
Ah, here’s what I’m after. Check out this ‘toon!
Raging Grace
While Paris Zarcilla’s reach exceeds his grasp, that is far better than the other way around. This is by no means a suggestion that Raging Grace is not well executed. Joy is the single mother of Grace, and both are in the UK illegally. When Joy takes an out-of-town job with under-the-table pay, she is initially thrilled: she’ll be able to pay off the goon providing her counterfeit citizenship documentation, bring her daughter to (secretly) live with her, and will have a break from jumping surreptitiously from one unoccupied home to another. However, she suspects her new employer is secretly attempting to kill the house’s owner. Before entering maid service in the UK, she studied as a nurse, and so has skills to revive the dying lord of the manor. Part horror, part comedy (as Grace, spritely newcomer Jaeden Paige Boadilla is an impish delight), Raging Grace is also filled with fury. Written at a height of Asian-hate in England, Zarcilla attempts to exorcise his own demons while exploring centuries of colonial nastiness.
7/24: The Fantastic Golem Affairs
Two friends enjoy rooftop day-drinking while playing a film-title charades game. One takes a performance of King Kong a little too far, and plummets naked off the skyscraper before shattering into thousands of pieces on a car below. Juan González and Nando Martínez give you this bit of magic-absurdism, and much more (tally them pianos) in their easy-breezy comedy The Fantastic Golem Affairs. Don’t worry about the title: the directors aren’t sure what it’s supposed to mean, but their distributor was keen on it. The “whatever, so long as it’s fun” attitude permeates this ribald rom-com/bawdy buddy-movie/casual coming-of-age tale. Join our “hero” Juan as he experiences the death of a friend, waves aside bureaucrats and fortune-seeking rivals, and otherwise slides through a bit of foolery featuring plenty of beer, bitchin’ shades, and a mysterious institute that provides “companion golems” for life’s underachievers.
The Primevals
I’ll never forget the moment when Rondo Montana (Leon Russom) confided to me, “The eyes of a dying giraffe can change a man.” It was a late Monday afternoon, about a third of the way through David Allen’s long (long, long, long)-awaited cryptid science fiction adventure yarn, The Primevals. It is somewhat rough going to begin with, but its impatience with storytelling at least meant we got to the really neat-o space lizards before my mind took to wandering too far. Matt Connor (Richard Joseph Paul), we learn, was correct, and was wrongly derided for his “speculative” thesis on the yeti. Director David Allen and his crack team of special effectsonauts and animators bring this yeti, and the space lizards (and, from their vivid expressiveness, Matt Connor’s eyebrows) to life in a decent-enough adventure story featuring very cool creatures. (I particularly liked the one with the stylish hat.) If you have a taste for Harryhausen &c., this is a new sight for your sore eyes.
Restore Point
Czech filmmaker Robert Hloz makes a police procedural with a delightfully muted future tone. Glowing surfaces, hyper-advanced-Kindle-tech newspapers, that neat-o interfacing system you see in the Iron Man franchise, and a technological hook akin to a basic version of “Altered Carbon” all feature here. This is competent, hard science fiction storytelling, and I considered it worth the time (although other reviewers I spoke with admitted some boredom). Beyond the cool look and good acting, I was intrigued how the film’s socioeconomic/political views landed between unalloyed capitalism (definitely not advocating for the privatization of the medical group responsible for reanimation) and full-on government control (too many secrets abound “for the greater good,” as far as the protagonist was concerned). I should be talking more about the movie as a movie, perhaps, but my fascination with Czech history (ex-USSR) and present got the better of me. That may be why I enjoyed this so thoroughly.
7/25: In My Mother’s Skin
The opening grabs you, the leading actress deftly carries the weight, the ending was spot-on, and the insect faerie was awesome. But for whatever reason, I never really became absorbed by Kenneth Dagatan’s Filipino horror feature. Late in WWII, on a Philippine island, a wheeler-dealer patriarch leaves his wife and two young children behind at the family’s remote estate, with the intention to clear up some business and, more importantly, get more food. During his absence, the tuberculotic mother’s condition worsens, a shady gunman pursues the gold allegedly hidden on the property, and the daughter is forced to try to hold things together. The soundscape, cinematography, lighting, colors, and even the “feel” of the story all gave me a sense I’d witnessed something like this before, done better. But being unable to pinpoint that, I will close by advising you hunt down a fuller review from a different Fantasia attendant; my conversations with my peers afterwards suggested I was squarely in the minority in being underwhelmed.
Lovely, Dark, and Deep
A neophyte park ranger, Lennon, volunteers for a three-month stint deep inside a massive nature preserve, partly to escape, partly to atone, and partly to explore a mysterious and tragic event from her childhood. To do this film both a modest discredit, and perhaps simultaneously give it an exaggerated compliment, my primary impression of Teresa Sutherland’s Lovely, Dark, and Deep was that it was a ‘lite’ version of Koko-Di, Koko-Da. Camping, outdoors, deadly stakes, mysterious entities: all that; not nearly as macabre (though no less violent), and more traditionally “psychological,” but quite the satisfying little film. (With bonus points for the Oxford comma in the title.)
If Footmen Tire You, What Will Horses Do? (1971) / The Burning Hell (1974)
Rev. Estus Pirkle and the Family Ormond want to save your soul. Rocking an amusingly long-winded metaphor, the 1971 title focuses on the dangers of Communism as it potentially (scratch that, DEFINITELY!) intersects with American Christianity “in twenty four months’ time!” The latter feature’s focus is in the name, and features a bit of sermonizing (from the good Reverend Pirkle), historical re-enactments (in the Holy Land, and in a manner I bet could not be repeated today), and dark-flamey visions of eternal punishment. The Burning Hell probably doesn’t deserve any closer look by our crack squad of weird-vestigators, but it did bring to mind Huxley’s admonition that he didn’t care to believe a God who would allow infinite torment for finite transgressions. And because I’m who I am, I found Footmen‘s main takeaway to be crystalizing the similarities between Communist governments’ exercises in worshiping the state and shaming the individual with evangelical Christianity’s similar guilt and adoration fetish. I’ll leave it to a more eloquent 366 reviewer to provide further elucidation.
7/26: Booger
There were a few moments when this could have tilted into weird movie apocrypha candidacy, but Mary Dauterman sticks by her guns and kept Booger on track as a contemplation on grieving, female friendships, and the mixed blessings of cat ownership. This decision was no bad thing: the film stands as a marvelous example of the (good) magic of independent cinema, showcasing both “magic realist” leanings and a phenomenon I can best describe as “body humor” (the counterpart to the more prevalent “body horror”). Anna loses her friend, Izzy, then loses her cat, Booger. Her descent into depression is mirrored by strange physiological developments: before his parting, Booger gives his owner a toothy bite to the hand. Grace Glowicki shines as an awkwardly depressed young woman whose life falls apart as she becomes increasingly feline (shiny objects: good ; aquarium fish: must destroy). It is worth mentioning that I almost gave this film a miss (the title is a word I truly dislike), but I am glad I overcame my syntactical discomfort and was able to make the screening for this heartfelt, gross-out, transformational grief-comedy.
Audio of post-screening Q & A with director Mary Dauterman
Devils
We wrap up week one with a twisty turn from Kim Jae-hoon. Devils is his feature debut (more power to him; this was deftly assembled), and the story involves a serial killer, a cop, and a kinda-sorta Face/Off experience. Victims are body-glo’d and nastily carved to sick beats; beatings are brutal and off the record; and the occasional self-aware admission from some perplexed police provide the occasional—and much appreciated—comic relief. Be advised that this turns out to be more clever than you might think if you walk away around the fifteen-minute mark. Kim Jae-hoon is a thriller-actioneer for you to keep an eye on.