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Well, after discovering that I do in fact still have a wife after 10 straight days of movie watching, I was informed that if I wanted to keep it that way I needed to stay away from the computer for a weekend. Well, the weekend is over and it's time to catch up on some Fantastic Fest reviews. So here goes.
Bug
You know, Willaim Friedkin is one of those guys a lot of us have been pulling for. Having directed two of the absolute classic examples of their genre (The Exorcist and The French Connection) as well as several films that aren’t huge in the mainstream but are spoken of with reverence in cinefile circles (like Sorcerer and To Live and Die in L.A.), he’s also directed a slew of forgotten, mediocre or poorly received films. And he’s been beginning to look like he would never actually return to the glory that he once held. Until Bug.
Bug is simply a phenomenal film. While being adapted from a stage play, Friedkin directs it with such kineticism, such a complicated shot structure, that he takes a single motel room (in which 98% of the movie is set) and never allows it to be boring or feel like it ever has to go anywhere else. This just doesn’t feel like a play. Despite being adapted from one, it feels very much like one of his powerhouse films of old. It certainly helps that the material covered in Bug is so wildly deranged, so decidedly fucked up, that it not only has you reeling from it as it unfolds, but seems to be covering the once dangerous ground that we were accustomed to in Friedkin’s days of old.
This is without a doubt Friedkin’s best film in over two decades. Simply put, this is the story of two strangers, each drawn to one another in their loneliness. But as they begin to spend time together, they start noticing an infestation of flesh eating bugs that may or may not exist. The result it a tense character piece as the situation pushes our two characters to the very brink of sanity. Their personalities begin to unravel before your very eyes and as it draws closer to its stunning and perfect conclusion, the performances become a thing of pure wonder.
Friedkin isn’t the only one who has earned himself a resurrection with this film, as Ashley Judd explodes back onto the scene with the single best performance of her career.
Clearly her days of playing the heroine cop tracking down serial killers is over. This is nothing akin to anything her career to date even hints at. She is a vision, both incredibly sexy (despite being very dressed down and white trashed out) and profoundly disturbing in her portrayal of a lonely divorced cokehead living in bumfuck nowhere Oklahoma.
Backing her up are truly inspired performances by Michael Shannon as the troubled stranger with a sordid past and serious issues and Harry Connick Jr. once again proving that he’s one of Hollywood’s under appreciated badasses, playing Judd’s estranged ex-husband fresh out of the pen and ready to restart with the ex-wife that doesn’t want him. The dynamics of these three playing off of one another is incendiary - a taut, intriguing battle of wills that makes you quickly forget that the movie rarely leaves a single location.
This is a film for film lovers and pretty much anyone that loves disturbing, well-drawn character dramas. Despite being sold as a genre piece, this is first and foremost a powerful drama – and a film you won’t soon forget. Friedkin’s back and in top form. This is a film that has me extremely excited about whatever he’s got next. Whatever it is, it is clear that he’s not done and I’m convinced that the man has a few great movies left in him. Highly Recommended.
Nightmare
Nightmare is a positively brilliant, subtle and genius work of horror fiction that is also one of the most inaccessible pieces of film I’ve ever seen. This is a film made pretty much exclusively for filmmakers and those firmly entrenched in the filmmaking process. A full out frontal assault on the film school mentality, Nightmare sets out to tell a story that involves deconstructing several different filmmaking philosophies – but unfortunately requires an understanding of those philosophies to be truly effective. For the festival circuit, and especially a festival like this, it is a perfect piece of art. But it is not a film for the average film-goer. Not even remotely.
Nightmare is the story of a filmmaker who wakes up to discover a video camera pointed at his bed, only to discover that on it is a recording of him and the woman he spent the night with brutally murdering three strangers. When he arrives late to class, he’s put on the spot to deliver his new pitch to his classmates, only to pitch the story of what happened to him the night before. When the class agrees to make his movie, he is forced to relive the night and continue writing the script as it plays out in his own life. Thus, over the course of two hours Nightmare becomes a movie, within a movie, within a movie, within a movie. And it’s amazing. If you know what the hell they’re talking about.
The third act, and especially the ending, is a perfectly surreal final attack on the filmmaking process that delivers the embrace-it-or-loath it moments of the film. It’s well acted, well directed and brilliant in concept. Except for its one major flaw. While Nightmare does a terrific job exposing the pretension and flaws of many cinematic schools of thought, it is itself a highly pretentious film that suffers the fatal flaw of only being enjoyed by those who really know what it is talking about to begin with. Most of the audience at my screening walked out hating it, claiming that it made absolutely no sense. Even after listening to the discussions of several filmmakers outside one audience member remarked “Oh, I get it now. But how the fuck was I supposed to know that?” And that’s one of the greatest sins of a filmmaker – making art that can only be understood by the peers who already get what you’re telling them.
It’s a sad case of irony that will ensure this never gets any serious distribution. But, it’s an amazing festival film and one hell of a Hollywood calling card that showcases director Dylan Bank’s profound understanding of the method and practice of making movies. Now if he can get a script that everyone else can understand, he’ll definitely be someone to watch. If you’re a filmmaker or someone who truly has a grasp of the process and arguments, this is a film to seek out and drink in. Otherwise, this is just gonna piss you off something ugly.
Isolation
Talk about your movies that manage to take a completely insane concept, something that many would simply laugh off, and turns it into a highly effective, enjoyable horror film. You see, Isolation is a movie about…mutated killer cow fetuses. No. Really. Mutant cow fetuses. When a genetic experiment to make cows breed more quickly goes awry, flesh eating fetuses with sharp exoskeletons take to the farm where they were bred and first feed on cattle, then move on to human flesh.
The result is a tense, frightening film that feels a lot like John Carpenter’s The Thing, but is set on a cold, rainy, and quite frankly creepy farm. And while there were many gory films that played this week at Fantastic Fest, Isolation takes the grand prize of simply being the grossest. Not just gory. But disgusting. Outside of the usual blood and guts, well, there’s farm stuff…cattle birthing and cesspools and general icky-ness. And it’s highly effective. Never done for cheap gross-outs, these moments serve to establish a mood and setting that amplifies the threat and really delivers.
This one was a crowd favorite, narrowly taking second place in the audience awards and netting a handful of awards from the horror jury.
Edmond
This film has David Mamet written all over it. Even watching it blind to who wrote it, one could easily guess its origin. But for those who love Mamet, like myself, this is a real treat – a rough, edgy character piece about a persons dissolving of self and the slow sink into insanity. This is a strange, extremely linear film that takes you step by step through one really bad night for businessman Edmond Burke (played brilliantly by William H. Macy.) As the night wears on and things get worse and worse for Edmond, you watch as his sanity is stripped away piece by piece as this guy tries to find out who he really is deep down. Unfortunately for him, it’s not at all what he imagined.
Well written and easily the best, most profound film in director Stuart Gordon’s career, Edmond is a disturbing, jarring film all about what lies just beneath the surface of a man who feels like he’s lost control of his life. And for those who enjoy rich character pieces, this is a really good film, fleshed out with an insane amount of cameos and walk-ons that make even the smallest roles resonate. It’s weird, off-kilter and very different than you might expect when all is said and done.
But the resolution is gonna lose some folks. For those willing to dig deep and piece together the metaphysical and philosophical aspects of what is being discussed, this film plays out poetically. Yet others might giggle or find the strange twist as something that seemingly comes from nowhere – and honestly is why I believe it isn’t being theatrically distributed in this country. Edmond asks a lot of the audience, and unless you’re really willing to go with it, you might find yourself looking at it sideways and wondering why you watched it in the first place. Personally, I dug the hell out of it, but it’s one of those films I could easily understand people going another way on. If you dig Mamet, you definitely should check it out. If not, this is one you’re not going to feel terribly bad missing.
The Glamorous Life of Sachiko Hanai
There’s really not a whole hell of a lot to say about this film. It’s Asian softcore. Really fucked up weird Asian softcore. And unless you enjoy watching the same adorable Asian woman fuck, suck and toss off every male character in the film, this probably ain’t gonna be your bag. However, if the occasional cumshot doesn’t offend you, this is one hell of a late night mindfuck for anyone who enjoys truly demented filmmaking.
Don’t get me wrong, this is by no means anything even remotely resembling a good film. But it is just so fucked up bizarre that you can’t take your eyes off of it, you can’t walk out on it, you absolutely cannot look away. Terrible production values and acting only reinforce the humor and watchability of this thing…and when the plot reveals itself…oh my God. You are just not ready for it. I mean, when the cloned finger of George W. Bush begins to finger fuck our heroine (who has a gaping hole in her head for the entirety of the film) while the real George W. (a man in a very bad Bush mask) watches it and controls it through a TV screen…there is no turning back. You are in so deep that you have to watch to the jaw-dropping conclusion. Bad, bad, bad…but in all the best ways, this is a film for only the hardcore folks out there who are looking for something that will have them reeling at just how fucked up a movie can get.
I’ve been hearing that you can get this as an import, but my mind is just in too raw a state even thinking about this film to consider looking it up to verify it. I might end up buying it, and damnit if I don’t know if I’m just yet ready to do that.
The Last Supper
Easily my least favorite film of the festival, this piece was just boring as all hell, been there done that, and all in all just terrible. With probably the worst makeup and production design in the entire fest, you can’t even really enjoy it for the kills or fun of it. It’s just another Japanese “Let’s tell the story of a cannibal” movie without a single new idea to play around with. And as it builds to its highly predictable conclusion, the third act just begins to veer left and right for no apparent reason, trying to be shocking or surprising, but instead proving to be pointless and wholly unentertaining. I can’t think of a single redeeming element to this film, other than the fact that it will never end up with any real distribution in this country and I’ll never have to see it again.
Until next time friends, smoke ‘em if ya got ‘em. I know I will.
Massawyrm
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