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2024 FANTASIA FILM FESTIVAL: AND THE REST, PART TWO

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Montréal 2024

I have taken so much complimentary coffee from the drinks stand in the lobby that I’ve grown somewhat furtive about it.

7/25: Rita

It’s impossible to deny the power found in Jayro Bustamante’s follow-up to his prior Fantasia feature, Piggy. The story, based upon a real-life incident that remains unresolved, concerns a 13-year-old girl who finds herself a ward of the state after running away from an abusive father. On the inside, she encounters various themed gangs—angels, fairies, bunnies, stars, and a fifth, more feral group whose nature eludes me—and is quickly taken under wing of the dominant Angels. Each of these form a function, both narratively and visually, and it is with them that Bustamante attempts to paint a fantastical veneer on a horrible set of circumstances. Unfortunately, he hedges his bets: Rita would have been more powerful as a realistic portrayal of the reasons and conditions of this prison; alternatively, it is not nearly wondrous enough, with the hints at fairy-tale trappings (the crone of a social worker makes for a perfect evil witch, and the pixie-dust powers of the Faery gang are a delight to witness) not coloring the underlying bleakness to any great degree. Still, it has some great set-pieces, as well as convincing performances from the few hundred girls cast from around Guatemala. Uneven, but recommended with reservations.

This Man

Dream Scenario meets J-horror in a fast-moving fusion of romance, comedy, frights, and existential philosophizing. Tomojiro Amano pivots around these loci with a story about a centuries-dead dark wizard seeking vengeance on humanity by appearing in dreams, dooming the dreamer. Deaths pile up, both squicky and hilarious (sometimes both), as two affable cops try to get to the bottom of the mystery (the senior of the pair always says, “It could just be a coincidence”; it’s assuredly not a coincidence). The story focuses on a young mother who consults a freelance sorcerer—he left his group because he disapproved of some of their activities—which results first in the tragic death of her daughter (which is also kind of hilarious), and culminates in the most action-packed-yet-action-bereft supernatural showdown I’ve seen. Bravo for thrash-industrial mystic mummery.

7/26: The Silent Planet

I’m always happy to observe areas of Earth that don’t look like they belong on this planet. Wherever Jeffrey St. Jules filmed this Continue reading 2024 FANTASIA FILM FESTIVAL: AND THE REST, PART TWO →

List Candidates

FANTASIA 2024: APOCRYPHA CANDIDATE: INFINITE SUMMER (2024)

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DIRECTED BY: Miguel Llansó

FEATURING: Teele Kaljuvee-O’Brock, Johanna Rosin, , Ciaron Davies

PLOT: Mia, an anthropology student partying with her friends for one last summer, finds her revels sabotaged by the mysterious and powerful mood app, “Eleusis.”

Still from Infinite Summer (2024)

WHY IT MIGHT MAKE THE APOCRYPHA: Though not as dingbat nutso as Jesus Shows You the Way to the Highway, Llansó’s latest film examines the promise and dangers of technology with plenty of pizzazz, paranormality, and purple gasses.

COMMENTS: Had someone like Ray Bradbury written this, its title could well have been The New Zoo Will Be Free from Suffering. Miguel Llansó, however, has more of a playful—and optimistic—streak than many science fiction writers. His new film is grounded in a realistic here and now, and indeed its opening act plays like a simple coming of age story about three young woman who have just graduated. But as the filmmaker says, “I am no psychologist,” and his deeply rooted bent toward the techno-fantastic quickly rears its head, sending his protagonists and the viewer on a strange and sinister ride through a purple cloud of menace.

This menace (or promise?) is dubbed “Eleusis.” As explained by its chirpy, casual AI guide, it claims to be a guided meditation app. Doctor Mindfulness, who probably isn’t an actual doctor, brings this questionable product—the program’s delivery system is a vapor-cartridge loaded in breathing mask—to Mia and her buddies, who are rightly hesitant about trusting some sketchy beardo they meet on the  “Extreme Dating” VR app. Doctor Mindfulness’ insistence overcomes Mia’s trepidation, and the next thing we know, Mia gives Eleusis a try, and begins exploring the possibilities of the purple dust vortex projected in the aether. Her friends overcome their hesitation, too, and under the guidance of the good “doctor,” push the tech to its meditative, orgasmic extremes. Then events take a turn for the worse.

Seeing as we’re watching a speculative science fiction film, it’s reasonable to guess that the changes and effects from a nebulous nebula aren’t going to be good; but seeing as we’re watching a Llansó film, it’s also reasonable to guess that things are going to get a bit wild. Having emphasized the color scheme, I won’t be giving too much away when I say this movie makes mention of the pineal gland, which is stimulated to both summon Eleusis from beyond, and suck in the app users when they reach a certain level of “transcendence.” Eleusis is disarming, with a bubbly feminine voice, often ending its sentences with a reassuring “yo!” to emphasize how hip and harmless it is. It’s a fascinating creature, with a mesmerizing interface—and also a deep cave of lightning and purple that may hold the answers Mia seeks after her friends begin changing.

A compelling character roster fleshes out Llansó’s probe into this theoretical. Mia’s father is an easy-going artist, with his authority tempered by his insecurities. Doctor Mindfulness hits all the notes for a techno-optimist, following the instructions of Eleusis without question. And a pair of Interpol agents add an eccentric buddy-cop element: one of them is both always late, and always eating the other’s food. Infinite Summer has much to offer, much of it in a purple haze. In Mia, Llansó captures our obsession with the past; in the hungry Interpol agent, he captures our enchainment to the present; and in Eleusis, he imagines a future gathering place, between reality and the void: a new zoo, which will be free from some suffering.

WHAT THE CRITICS SAY:

“Infinite Summer distinguishes itself with a mesmerizing soundtrack and meticulously crafted visual effects that heighten the surreal atmosphere of the narrative.” – Chris Jones, Overly Honest Reviews (festival screening)

It Came from the Reader-Suggested Queue, List Candidates

APOCRYPHA CANDIDATE: DEATH POWDER (1986)

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Desu Pawuka

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DIRECTED BY: Shigeru Izumiya

FEATURING: Takichi Inukai, Rikako Murakami, Shigeru Izumiya, Mari Natsuki, Kiyoshirô Imawano

PLOT: In a robot’s dying moments, it spews out a mysterious dust that bounty hunter Kiyoshi inhales, causing his body to undergo drastic physical changes and sending him on a terrifying mental journey.

Still from Death Powder (1986)

WHY IT MIGHT JOIN THE APOCRYPHA: Death Powder manages to stretch out a visual bouillabaisse to an hour, cramming into a short block of time all of the trippy imagery and body horror that anyone could want. It may be considered a forebear to the “New Flesh” genre, but it easily stands on its own merits as a twisted piece of cinema.

COMMENTS: There are a lot of things a movie can do to catch our attention here, but one surefire way to get us to consider a film for the List is to dispense with the niceties of filmmaking—e.g. discernible plot, delineated characters, visual clarity—but pay them just enough lip service to let the viewer know that they’re going out the window. The first 20 minutes of Death Powder deftly accomplish this, teasing out a proto-neo-Tokyo in which leather-clad, fedora-wearing private contractors chase down robots in a city drenched in neon and rain, like a stepping stone between Blade Runner and Akira. Until Kiyoshi’s hand falls off, that is, at which point Death Powder becomes something very different indeed.

Once he is infected with the titular substance, Kiyoshi can see all, including the impending arrival of the strangely defaced mafia called the Scar People that employs him. He also flashes back to a sort of origin story, a jarring and hilarious jump to what is essentially a rock-star/scientist’s product launch. There’s an immediate change in tone as the robot’s inventor comes leaping in wailing on an electric guitar while the robot—bearing the ominous name “Guernica”—smiles and delivers her personal stats. Kiyoshi also undergoes physical changes, like a grotesquely misshapen face, as well as the sudden ability to punch a man in the face so hard that his head explodes.

Death Powder brings to mind the Greg Bear story Blood Music, in which a man injects himself with self-aware nanoprobes and unwittingly instigates a global biological singularity, as much as it does 1980s Japanese cyberpunk. Guernica speaks to Kiyoshi in his head, making it clear that she intends to propagate herself, and that this is just the beginning. Sure enough, when a group of hitmen arrive, artsy images of maggoty innards and liquid-drenched monster masks convey their demise. It’s not hard to imagine that all of Tokyo will soon join them in an enormous writhing blob.

The copy of Death Powder that I watched (twice, in an effort to make sense of the thing) was dark and muddy, but having seen other clips and stills from the production, I think that’s how it’s meant to be. The film looks like it’s been shot equally on film and video; the good Dr. Loo’s infomercial features classic video toaster effects, and a fight scene includes a character kicking an inset box. But the lo-fi elements only end up adding to the film’s charm. There’s something tight and compact about Izuyima’s vision, how readily he conveys a physiological disaster brought about by technological hubris. This is a movie with the wisdom to get in, confuse and horrify, and get out in a tight hour, with a jaunty saloon singalong to send you on your freaked-out way.

WHAT THE CRITICS SAY:

“…a bizarre and barely comprehensible one-hour short… surreal to the point of madness… ” – James Belmont, AnOther Magazine

(This movie was nominated for review by Charlie. Suggest a weird movie of your own here.)

Capsules

CAPSULE: ALTERED PERCEPTIONS (2023)

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DIRECTED BY: Jorge Ameer

FEATURING: Oran Stainbrook, Matt Fling, Danny Fehsenfeld, Vincent Giovanni, ,

PLOT: Pandemic, violence, and sedition threaten to destroy the United States; a father and son embedded in opposing political organizations are its last hope.

COMMENTS: Like most movies, Altered Perceptions ends with the standard notice, “This is a work of fiction. Any similarity to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events, is purely coincidental.” I’m going to go ahead and ignore that. With characters like slimy Senator Ted DeMarcos, bigoted Governor Ron San Diego, and an obvious George Santos look-alike as a spineless henchman (sportingly portrayed by director Jorge Ameer himself), it is clear just which politico goons the filmmaker is referencing. Indeed, the protagonist’s name—Alex Feretti, son of Dr. Feretti, a Whitehouse disease big-wig—echoes a certain Dr. A. Fauci of pandemic fame.

And what a pandemic! Sure, Covid was bad enough, but it seems that the vaccines and boosters for it trigger a nasty mental deterioration coupled with homi- and suicidal violence in many who received it, especially blacks and HOMOsexuals (emphasis mimicking DeMarcos’ singular pronunciation). This leads to chaos in the country, which a gallery of secessionist goons take advantage of, ultimately requesting that all Blacks and HOMOsexuals who have received the vaccine voluntarily check in to observation facilities in America’s South and Southwest. And oh yes, it affects the elderly, too (cue not-at-all-President-Biden being called on to step down); and what with the pre-eminent disease guy (aforementioned Doctor F̶a̶u̶c̶i̶ Feretti) being a prominent homosexual, it’s all looking very bad for various put-upon groups.

The paragraph above is ill-wrought, so as to better give you an idea of the narrative flow of Altered Perceptions—and I haven’t yet even touched upon the fully-frontally nude time traveler who is desperate to enlist the help of Alex Feretti, who is not only the son of the nationally known doctor but also the top aide to Senator DeMarcos. These shotgun blasts of social commentary, interspersed with interludes of well-intentioned guesses at what a gay relationship is like, crackle over the course of two hours as we watch society collapse from both macro- and micro-focus. And before I forget, there’s a strange plot from North Korea brewing as well.

Jorge Ameer kept my interest throughout, it is true. But much of that stemmed from the constant crinkling sound I heard as the plot unfurled. The screenwriter is a neuropsychologist, and while axes are ground, its never clear what they ultimately end up swung at. Ameer is obviously earnest, but his technical (and storytelling) proficiency is only a few notches above Tommy Wiseau’s. The acting ranges from C- to B+, with son Feretti scoring the former and father Feretti the latter, rendering their interactions one-sidedly stilted. And while I don’t hold clunky special effects against anyone, others do—and are so warned.

Still, I much prefer a film’s reach to exceed its grasp than vice versa, and while I could reel off any number of further quibbles, I’d feel petty doing so. Ameer takes a stab at making a Big Movie with Big Ideas under the restraints of a low budget. If you will allow the use of a crummy double-metaphor, Altered Perceptions is like a slice of Swiss cheese: there are plenty of holes; but also like a slice of Swiss cheese, it holds together just enough to make it a notable addition in the greater Sandwich of Cinema.

WHAT THE CRITICS SAY:

“… this is a glitchy, channel-surfing trawl through recent American history, where the dialogue is stylised and repetitive, the characters dumbed down, and the narrative unbelievable to the point of surrealism. Yet this is part of the point: for here, as in a Neil Breen film, artifice is foregrounded, the medium is the message, and ultimately it is the viewer’s perceptions which are altered, as Ameer – who also plays one of DeMarcos’ aides – infects us all with the maddening irrationality of America’s contemporary culture wars.”–Anton Bitel, Projected Figures (contemporaneous)

Altered Perceptions [Blu-ray]

Altered Perceptions [Blu-ray]
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Capsules

CAPSULE: HANKY PANKY (2023)

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DIRECTED BY: , Nick Roth

FEATURING: Jacob DeMonte-Finn, Lindsey Haun, Ashley Holliday Tavares, Christina Laskay,  Clare Grant, Nick Roth, voice of

PLOT: Sam is mistakenly invited to a remote weekend reunion and people begin dying off.

COMMENTS: Hanging out in the dark basement, with fan full blast, empty soda cans piling up, and a low light pulsing from the 17″ cathode-ray television, Cannibal! the Musical hangs out with “The Mighty Boosh“. Hanky Panky enters, and Boosh gives Musical the old, Oooh boy, it’s the new guy-look. “Hey, HP, it’s… uh, great to see you!” (End scene on awkward silence.)

For dirt-cheap, you can fill your awkward silence right now for 86 minutes of “Umm…”, “Heh, uh.”, and “Bwah! What the—?”, among other remarks elicited by this, er, horror-science-fiction thingy. Sam (an awkward, civil, moustachioed Jacob DeMonte-Finn) has been mistakenly invited to a remote cabin for the weekend by Rebecca, who for reasons revealed earlier has assembled her sisters and their hangers-on. But unbeknownst to Rebecca, Sam comes with a secret—and powerful—friend in the form of a talking handkerchief named “Woody” who loves lapping up liquids.

Those of you who have read this far and gone, “Oh-ho, really?,” be well advised herewith: returning to the “basement” symbolism, the foley, practical effects, and much else in Hanky Panky are bargain-basement level. But what bargains! What mystery! What fascinating chunks of offal! And where did this melange of unpleasant and sympathetic characters come from? The directors do us the favor of killing them off in order from most annoying to least (which helps a good deal), with the final victim performing with such eccentric, jerky hamminess that I can’t help but respect the actress in question for the sheer force of her chutzpah.

The script must have seemed good enough to rope in Seth Green—as villainous alien, Harry the Hat—but while that actor fills me with the warmest of indifference, Hanky Panky is, happily, one of the dumbest things I’ve ever seen. I could Recommend(ed)! it, but my boss would fire me for journalistic malpractice; I could tag it Weirdest, but my fellow reviewers would punch me in the mouth for raising their hopes. This is a paean to DIY daftness—or to phrase it as Woody might prefer, it is a moronic, masterful mess.

WHAT THE CRITICS SAY:

“…a stoner lo-fi sci-fi slasher comedy that starts off weird, gets a little off-putting, and then just blasts off into insanity from there.”–Douglas Davidson, Elements of Madness (contemporaneous)

Hanky Panky [DVD]

Hanky Panky [DVD]
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