Tag Archives: Substance Abuse

SLAMDANCE FILM FESTIVAL: APOCRYPHA CANDIDATE: TONY ODYSSEY (2025)

Antônio Odisseia

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DIRECTED BY: Thales Banzai

FEATURING: Kelson Succi, Iraci Estrela

PLOT: After robbing his father’s restaurant, Tony runs off with his girl Ivy and they share a “paste”-fueled transdimensional journey.

Still from Tony Odyssey (2025)

WHY IT MIGHT MAKE THE APOCRYPHATony Odyssey is down-to-Earth dramedy meets high theological physics, with motorcade bunnies, a lusty ur-Mother, and a game show God amongst its otherworldly revelations.

COMMENTS: Tony hates reality. We first find him cleaning an uncooperative toilet in his family’s restaurant, slipping on a damp patch and landing his hands in something best left unmentioned. It’s worth mentioning that this restaurant seems to be nothing but a front for a drug (and firearms?) operation, run by Tony’s cold-hearted father and his one-legged brother. Being down a leg doesn’t stop the would-be Lothario from hitting on Tony’s girl, Ivy,  who’s popped by for a visit, snatching a firearm from a motorbike parked out front on her way in. Things then happen quickly: guns drawn, hostage taken, drugs stolen, and Tony and Ivy escape to a not-far-enough-away warehouse to take some of dad’s mind-bending chemicals.

Banzai’s dream blast has energy to spare, and does its best to keep the viewer unmoored. The opening credits spool over a craggy quarry, with a horse-drawn cart slowly making its way up the spiraling ruins of the access road. Sergione-y guitar licks thrum out a jagged, ambiguously Western tune, while the fonts for the credits evoke early ’80s computer text. Space and time are not our enemies—but they are not our friends, either. It is key that Tony manipulate these elements, and with his witchy friend Ivy, he unlocks a door. But where does it lead?

The short answer is: nowhere, and everywhere. The mind-altered pair drop a dark, gluey goo in their eyes, and find themselves in a taxi driven by a man who cannot remember his own name. Tony parts with a necklace of untold wealth to fly a boy’s kite, soaring at first into the air before jerkily crashing down. Desserts overflow at a chic boozery where a self-avowed Contrarian holds court, monologuing at length about how art means nothing any more, and that art patrons may as well just nail their money on the walls. Ivy’s and Tony’s fates diverge for a stretch, during which time Tony apparently dies, and after a brief wait in Hades’ check-in, has an awkward encounter with a bazonga’d matriarch. Watching violent milk porn, he is eventually pulled into the presence of God themselves.

This dream quest is a delightful affair, shot in a crisp black and white that renders the experience old-fashioned while oozing a vibrant surrealistic pop. Kelson Succi is perfect as the plebian dreamer, and  Iraci Estrela is the perfect foil as the down-to-earth occultist. The soundtrack pulsates jauntily, often performed by cool-cat jazz men on invisible instruments. It inspires thought, too, about many of the unknown and unknowable angles concerning fate, life, facsimile, and destiny. Are we all God’s avatars? What grand drama—or nonsense—is the end game? And how can we hope to control our reality when we exist in it at such a finite and arbitrary intersection? Who knows. Just dance like a bunny as you bend your mind to the rhythm of flickering lights.

Tony Odyssey has a worldwide distribution deal (excluding UK and Ireland) from Kaleidoscope Film Distribution, and should show up for viewing somewhere in the future.

WHAT THE CRITICS SAY:

“…it’s rooted in the quite ordinary disappointment of a person, before the movie breaks apart, twists, and ultimately doesn’t bother to be polite or even make sense (and doesn’t need to).”–Chris Jones, Overly Honest Reviews

APOCRYPHA CANDIDATE: KILL THE JOCKEY (2024)

El jockey

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DIRECTED BY: Luis Ortega

FEATURING: Nahuel Pérez Biscayart, Úrsula Corberó, Daniel Fanego

PLOT: Remo, a gifted and drug-addled jockey, finds himself on the run from the mob after paddock fence smash-up leaves him hospitalized.

Still from Kill the Jockey (2024)

WHY IT MIGHT JOIN THE APOCRYPHA: Even before his traumatic brain injury, Remo is not well in the head, and director Luis Ortega’s narrative reflects that haziness. Once our fractured jockey hits the streets in a borrowed lady’s fur coat (with elegant handbag), all bets are off as Kill the Jockey careens toward its mystical photo-finish.

COMMENTS: The horse is secured in the center of the transport plane, monitored by a serious-faced attendant in an uncertain uniform. The man peers out the window, and observes the craft is approaching the airstrip. The horse’s ears twitch, ever so slightly, as it stands stock-still, darting its eyes left and right. We can tell it is unsettled—highly unsettled—but unsure as to why. Regardless, it makes no sudden moves as it attempts to get a bead on just what is going on, and why it feels so very disturbed.

This beast’s experience traveling through the air resembles the viewer’s journey through Luis Ortega’s metaphysical sports drama, Kill the Jockey; though, unlike the horse, we are treated to regular shots of comedy and a delightful soundtrack. Remo, the titular jockey, drinks (whiskey and ketamine), dances, and seems to be in dangerous pursuit of comatose living. Remo’s boss, Fanego, claims he loves his jockeys like sons, which may well be true, but certainly loves having an infant in his arms as a prop (observed, by one of his goons, as having been apparently the same age for the past seven years). Remo’s lover, Abril, doesn’t seem to love him any more. She tells him so, and in response to how she might come to love him again: “Only if you die and are reborn.” Remo takes on the challenge.

With the second act, cued by a close-up of two radically different-sized pupils on Remo’s post-coma visage, what is and isn’t actually happening becomes increasingly unclear. It appears that Remo, against the odds, survived, and also that he’s in for a personality change of foundational proportions. But why does he no longer affect a measuring scale? (His gun, apparently, weighs one kilogram; that’s around one more kilogram than he registers.)  When did he learn to apply face make-up so capably? And just how did Fanego’s Hispanic-white-boy baby suddenly become a black one? (I didn’t quite believe his claim that “…just happens as they grow.”)

The one certainty afforded us is that our hero, and his story, has come unblinkered. Remo becomes Dolores, Dolores charms her prison mates (and the warden) before dawning a jockey uniform for some underground competition. Abril falls in love again, anticipating the birth of Remo’s daughter. Then a blast of violence catalyzes a metaphysical transference, leaving Abril and Remo—and us—with a happy ending that goes down as gaily as a ketamine and whiskey cocktail.

WHAT THE CRITICS SAY:

“A colorful Argentine oddity…  Luis Ortega’s alternately dark and daffy eighth feature is suitably untethered for a story concerned with the malleability of the self. That comes at some cost to its impact, however: Awash with kooky gags and bolstered by the strange, soulful presence of leading man Nahuel Pérez Biscayart, it’s fun but flighty, liable to throw some viewers from the saddle.”–Guy Lodge, Variety (contemporaneous)