Fantastic Fest is now over. All the good nerd boys and girls have gone home to hibernate until next year. It’s a time a quiet reflection and rehydration.

It was a strange year for the fest. In some ways it felt like its first time at bat instead of a festival with 10 years of experience. The new venue, the new ticketing system, and some rainy weather lent the whole thing a bit of a loose and chaotic vibe. Gone were the ordered lines and ample personal space. In their place was an overstuffed herd of geek cattle that often turned into wild stampede when the gates were opened.

These are relatively minor setbacks, however, and are sure to be fixed by next year. The heart remained intact and the programming was as good as its ever been. I was not able to see as much as I had hoped, due to life constantly getting in the way. It Follows, Cub, Nightcrawler, Force Majeure, The Duke of Burgundy, and Felt were all buzzed about movies that I didn’t get a chance to see. Thankfully, with the rise of digital distribution channels, all of these will likely be available to the general public very soon.

But lets move on to what I did see. The three films I’m talking about today were all thematically of a piece. All deal with motherhood, in their own way, and none of them are pretty.

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The Babadook

The Babadook was a bit of a known quantity. It has played other festivals and has garnered a reputation as being one of the scariest films in recent memory. Perhaps my expectations were too high but I did not find the movie all that scary. What I did find, though, was an incredible look into the stresses of single parenthood.

The movie follows single mother Amelia, played brilliantly by Essie Davis, as she tries to raise her tyrant of a son, Oskar. Oskar’s father died in a car crash driving Amelia to the hospital to deliver Oskar, and Amelia has been living with a buried resentment for her son ever since. It doesn’t help that he’s loud, disobedient, and seems to have a delusional obsession with monsters.

Watching Amelia be slowly beat down by a son she has to actively try not to hate is the most compelling aspect of The Babadook. It’s a movie that could have worked even if the stress and resentment wasn’t physically manifested in the form of the titular fairy tale monster.

The Babadook is a creature from a pop up childrens book that mysteriously shows up in the house one night. Oskar asks to be read the book as a night time story, which ends up unleashing the monster in the house. The monster itself is of a somewhat silly design, knowingly harkening back to the silent film era, but manages to raise a few hairs due to some expert direction that wisely doesn’t show too much.

The real horror comes from watching Amelia become broken down and possessed by this spirit, which causes her to finally act on the negative feelings she has for her son. The movie cleverly makes the audience switch their allegiances as we realize that Oskar is just a misunderstood boy who hasn’t been given the love and guidance that a child needs. He truly loves his mother and has wanted nothing more than to protect her from the monsters he’s always known are there.

It all ends up being a rather sweet movie of parent and child finally coming to know one another.

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Ich Seh, Ich Seh (Goodnight Mommy)

On the other end of the spectrum is this years secret screening, Goodnight Mommy. The last word I’d use to describe this film is sweet. In fact, by the end I was physically exhausted from how hard I was tensing up during the climactic scenes. It’s a harrowing experience.

The movie follows, once again, a single mother struggling to raise a possibly delusional child. This time the struggle is amplified as the mother is dealing with twin boys.

Goodnight Mommy has a reversed trajectory from The Babadook. We begin the film on the side of the boys. We stay with them as they play and run around their beautiful modernist home in the country. Mommy is a minor celebrity and in an effort to fight off age, she has had some cosmetic surgery. As a result, her head is completely bandaged and she mostly hides away in her bedroom to heal. From the children’s perspective, though, this makes their mother appear to be absolutely monstrous. A ghoul hiding in the shadows of their home. It doesn’t help that when the bandages are removed, she doesn’t quite look like Mom anymore.

This causes the boys to doubt that mom is really mom, and it begins a supremely uncomfortable antagonistic relationship that culminates in some of the most disturbing scenes I’ve ever seen on film.

Goodnight Mommy legitimately shook me, and that’s a testament to its quality, but I did think there was one major problem with the film. There is supposed to a mystery central to the plot, something that, once revealed, is supposed to change the context completely. The issue is that this mystery is strongly telegraphed and painfully obvious. You’ll know what’s going on with the boys within the first 10 minutes of the movie, which makes a lot of the first half of the film tedious as it tries to draw out this secret.

Once it abandons this and the facts are laid bare, however, Goodnight Mommy turns into truly effective horror. Make sure you have the stomach for it.

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Everly

Closing out the single mother trilogy is Everly. An over the top action cheesefest from director Joe Lynch.

Salma Hayek stars as Everly, a woman who is kidnapped and sold into sex slavery soon after the birth of her daughter. Now, years later, she is trapped in a hotel with other women in similar situations. The movie begins with Everly naked and defenseless following an offscreen incident of sexual abuse. She finds a gun that’s been stashed away for her and proceeds to kill everyone in the room.

The rest of the film takes place in a single hotel room as Everly fights off wave after wave of bad guys trying to kill her, all while trying to contact the mother and daughter she hasn’t seen in years.

That makes the film sound far more serious than it actually is. Everly actually reminded me of the wacky genre films of the 80’s. The enemies often seem like they come out of an arcade fighting game. Jokes and cheesy one liners abound. The violence is over the top. It’s quite a bit of fun, but also comes off as tonally inappropriate. We are supposed to really feel for Everly as she scrapes and scratches her way through every encounter but its hard to take any of it seriously when the villains are constantly giving into action movie cliches like giving speeches with their backs turned instead of killing Everly when they have the chance or fighting her one by one when they could easily overtake her by fighting together.

Overall the movie didn’t really work for me. It uncomfortably straddled the line between trying to be a real movie and being a cartoon. It’s a decent late night tv movie though.

Be sure to check out Part One here!

Fantastic Fest has rolled around once more and continues to be the most entertaining film festival on Earth. This year sees the festival back at its home base of the Alamo Drafthouse South Lamar and the adjoining Highball bar in Austin, TX. This is my 5th time attending the festival, now celebrating it’s 10th year.

Fantastic Fest is unique among film festivals because, much like its host venue, it is more a festival of personality than one of quality. There are other genre festivals, sure, but Fantastic Fest is an experience where the campy, gorey, and outright weird films oftentimes serve as a backdrop to the chaos as opposed to the end goal. Fantastic Fest films rarely stick with me for very long, but the festival remains my most anticipated every year.

This year got off to a bit of a rough start as bad weather and inexperience with the remodeled Drafthouse led to a case of overcrowding and confusion in the lobby and bar. That didn’t stop me from having a few drinks and seeing some weird bullshit though. Here’s a roundup of my festival experience so far.

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Horsehead

This surreal French horror flick strives to follow in the footsteps of Pan’s Labyrinth with its mixture of personal drama, horrific gore, and beautiful fantasy elements. Unfortunately it falls quite a bit short and ends up being kind of a bore.

The movie follows a young women as she returns home following the death of her grandmother. She suffers nightmares and tries to overcome them by studying lucid dreaming. While at home, she falls ill and her dreams and reality start to intermingle and her dead grandmother seems to be trying to tell her something.

Horsehead has plenty of arresting imagery and is moderately successful in creating a surreal dreamlike atmosphere, but the familial mystery at the core is never that engaging and the pace is often laborious. There’s also an uncomfortable exploitative streak in the movie with plenty of unnecessary slow motion bathing scenes and taboo sexual dream imagery that never seems like its exploring anything other than mastabatory fantasy.

A horsey man fights a wolf spirit and gets stabbed with a key thingy though, so I guess it was pretty ok.

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The Hive

The Hive is essentially a zombie apocalypse film but it takes an interesting route by adding the idea of a hivemind to the mix. Once you turn, you share the thoughts and memories of every other hive zombie. The movie takes place at a summer camp and begins with our protagonist, who has already begun to turn, waking up alone in a trashed room covered with cryptic notes. His memory has been wiped by the hive zombie virus thing so he must piece together who he is and what has happened by relying on the clues in the room and the mess of memories he has, only some of which are his own.

The Hive has a lot of really great things going for it, but it is ultimately ruined by pure adolescence. This is a teenage movie masquerading as an adult one. That’s not meant to be a dig on teen movies. Movies about the teenage experience are often written by adults who can look back and make sense of that tumultuous time in their lives with the help of the life experience they’ve gained. The Hive feels like a kid writing about how he imagines adult relationships and behaviors will be, without having any experience in the matter. It’s all heightened emotion and naivete and ignorance, but presented with a confidence that makes it all the more grating.

This is a movie where our hero bumps into a pretty girl and causes her to cut her head and be sent to the nurse. He then sprains his own ankle and has to join her. Somehow these minor injuries cause them both to be bedridden and they have an extended meet cute in the camp infirmary. Their beds are a few feet apart but they can’t move out of them because of the severity of their ouchies. Over the course of what I assume to be a few hours, they go through the entire romantic experience through a montage that in a better movie would have taken place over the course of days or weeks and wouldn’t have been built on such a weak conceit.

The movie is full of silly things like this. Love, loyalty, betrayal, maturity, and a whole cavalcade of complex emotional states are just granted to characters who in no way earned them. Every big emotional moment becomes an embarrassing display of childishness. The whole movie felt like sitting at a dinner table with your 15 year old cousin as they told you about how the world was ending because that girl or guy they liked replied to their text with a “K” instead of an “Okay!”.

This immaturity makes its way into the filmmaking as well, which is overly stylized to the point of distraction. High contrast blown out lighting, dutch angles, and rapid edits all serve to distract instead of enhance. All topped off with terrible emo song signaling the end of the film.

The Hive also has an annoying tendency to over explain everything. There is a moment of revelation towards the end of movie where our protagonist finally pieces together the puzzle and remembers what happened. This scene is played as if the information should be revelatory to the audience as well, but anyone with half a brain would have figured all that stuff out within the first half hour of the movie. There really isn’t a puzzle to figure out, and the idea of a hivemind isn’t a new concept that’s hard to grasp and needs to be overly explained. Time and time again obvious concepts that can be understood instantly and visually are then explained by a man talking to himself alone in a room for no other reason than to hold an audience’s hand, and it gets really tedious.

It’s a shame because there are some nice naturalistic performances from the main actors and the hive mind zombie idea is one that hasn’t been explored all that often. There really is a good movie here, it just came out of someone who hasn’t experienced enough life to understand how to tell it.

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John Wick

A grieving ex-hitman has his car stolen and his dog killed by a mobsters punk son. Grieving ex-hitman kills everyone.

That’s all you need to know about John Wick, it’s as lean and mean of a revenge film as I’ve seen in some time and that is actually pretty refreshing. Keanu Reeves plays the titular Wick and does an admiral job of looking super cool while shooting a whole mess of dudes in the head. This movie has more visceral headshots than any I can recall, its kind of nuts. Reeves also gets opportunities to get uncharacteristically broad with his performance. It’s not often you get to see him raging and screaming, so savor it.

The thing that really elevates John Wick past its skeletal concept is that filmmakers Chad Stahelski and Derek Kolstad build out a really fun underworld of professional assassins. When Wick re-enters the fold in order to exact his revenge, we are introduced to a whole secret society with its own rules and language and secret bases and authorities. These aren’t lone wolf renegades. These are respected members of a highly organized civilization. It’s neat, and makes me want to see more films set in this world.

Wick also has a wonderful cast, with familiar and welcome faces continuing to pop up throughout the movie. I won’t name names because, despite there not being any major surprise celebrity cameos, there is a joy in seeing these character actors pop up unexpectedly and do their thing.

My one complaint is that the action could have used more variety. The film focuses exclusively on quick, visceral gunplay and even that can wear out its welcome. You will see Keanu shoot tons of people in the head, and by the end you’re really gonna wish you could see him do something different. Some hand to hand or a stealthy hide and seek sequence would have worked wonders.

Fantastic Fest has rolled around once more and continues to be the most entertaining film festival on Earth. This year sees the festival back at its home base of the Alamo Drafthouse South Lamar and the adjoining Highball bar in Austin, TX. This is my 5th time attending the festival, which is now celebrating it’s 10th year.

Fantastic Fest is unique among film festivals because, much like its host venue, it is more a festival of personality than one of quality. There are other genre festivals, sure, but Fantastic Fest is an experience where the campy, gory, and outright weird films oftentimes serve as a backdrop to the chaos as opposed to the end goal. Fantastic Fest films rarely stick with me for very long, but the festival remains my most anticipated every year.

This year got off to a bit of a rough start as bad weather and inexperience with the remodeled Drafthouse led to a case of overcrowding and confusion in the lobby and bar. That didn’t stop me from having a few drinks and seeing some weird bullshit though. Here’s a roundup of my festival experience so far.

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The ABC’s of Death 2

The ABC’s of Death was such a wonderful concept when it was first revealed. The idea of assigning 26 different directors a letter of the alphabet and giving the complete creative freedom to come up with a short film of death relating to a word starting with that letter is exciting in a way anthology films rarely are. The required brevity also brings out a level of cleverness and humor not seen in other contemporary anthology series, like the often tedious V/H/S series.

The first ABC’s was a total mixed bag, however. It had more than it’s fair share of awful entries and led me to drink myself into stupor to save myself from the experience, which may be intended way to view the film in the first place. My scotch hazed memory of that first entry is not kind.

This new set of shorts fares a bit better. There are only a handful of entries that truly fall flat. Often the worst are only bad because they seem to give up just as they are getting interesting. Several entries set up genuinely exciting premises and build a great atmosphere before ending in a vague, unsatisfying sigh.

Whether by luck or design, the first and last segments (Amateur and Zygote) are probably the strongest. Beginning and ending on high notes definitely leaves you with a good impression as you leave the theater. Zygote in particular was incredibly strong; it was disturbing, funny, thematically cohesive, and featured some of the most jaw dropping gore effects I’ve ever seen.

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V/H/S Viral

As far as anthology series sequels go, V/H/S: Viral did not fare as well as The ABC’s of Death 2. The found footage series has reeked of missed potential from the beginning but has never been outright bad until now. The first collection was interesting in that it was primarily from a group of ultra low budget indie directors that wouldn’t necessarily be the first names that come to mind when thinking of horror. I love seeing non-genre directors try their hand at it because even if its not entirely a success, it is generally full of new ideas.

The second entry in the series went with directors that had done some much larger budget work and had two segments that I thought were great. Safe Haven from directors Timo Tjahjanto and Gareth Evans was particularly impressive and could probably have been fleshed out into a feature length film.

This new collection doesn’t really go in any interesting direction with its choice of directors and kind of feels like they just picked whoever was cheap and available. The first segment, Dante the Great, even abandons the found footage premise of the series which makes everything seem even lazier, it doesn’t help that the visual effects seem like After Effects presets.

The only segment that comes off mostly unscathed is from Time Crimes director and unofficial Fantastic Fest mascot Nacho Vigalondo. His “Parallel Monsters” short cleverly uses the found footage conceit to tell the story of a man meeting an alternate universe version of himself. Having both shooting each other cleverly solves the problem of having the same actor interact with himself. The short has a simple idea and finds interesting ways to explore that. It is full of Nacho’s warped and often childish humor as well and is a nice respite from the rest of the film.

If you’ve seen the other V/H/S movies you know they make half hearted attempts to tie the individual shorts together by having a wraparound story that begins and ends the film as well as acting as a buffer between shorts. These are always the worst bits of the film but the wraparound story in Viral is truly terrible. I honestly can’t tell you what it’s about as it’s mostly incoherent and lacks a single element that makes it worthwhile.

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Wyrmwood

Wyrmwood is a zombie film. I couldn’t be more sick of zombies. My one time favorite movie monster has been played out to the point that I actively avoid it. However, this Australian entry from director Kiah Roache-Turner managed to grab my attention with it’s manic punk energy, mad max style, and twisted humor that reminded me strongly of early Peter Jackson.

Wyrmwood never slows down and is constantly throwing out insane new ideas that rarely make any sense but which I forgave because the audacity was fresh and exciting. This is a zombie movie where comets cause people to rapidly turn into rabid man eaters who have flammable blood and breath gasoline. Actual gasoline is now inert as well, because fuck it. The zombie apocalypse seems to take minutes, yet people are armed and ready within moments. There’s crazy doctors in mobile labs who are already running experiments as if they’ve been waiting for this their whole lives. The comets also cause some people to become telepaths. It’s all crazy and silly and awesome. By the end of the film you’ve got mad max style armored vehicles powered by zombie breath and telepathic punk chicks controlling the undead, its fantastic.

The one thing keeping this from being an instant classic is simply that, while its full of fun moments and crazy ideas, it never finds a real story worth telling and never develops characters worth caring about. It’s all spectacle and insanity. Great in the moment, but unfortunately not something thats going to stay with you.

Looking forward to any of these films? Be sure to check out Part Two here!

Joe, the latest from eclectic and prolific filmmaker David Gordon Green, is being released in theaters and on VOD tomorrow, April 11. I had the opportunity to sit down with Green, along with stars Nicolas Cage and Tye Sheridan, during a panel discussion on the film.

The interview was lengthy so get cozy. My questions are in bold. I’m sure they’re the only ones you care about. Right?

I wanted to ask about a lot of the locations and the people within the movie. A lot of that stuff feels very real and that shows through in the film. Can you talk a little bit about finding the different locations that you used and the people that you interacted with. In particular, Gary Poulter because he’s so terrific in the film.

David Gordon Green: I remember when Nic came into town and we were talking about how to flesh out the cast. I really wanted it to have a raw southern authenticity and not necessarily a Hollywood polish. To make sure these characters were of a real world and we were dropping in on guys who really knew how to do this labor and had voices that were either poetry or horror depending on who we were looking at. Outside of Nic, it’s all Texans. People who were living here and had the voice of here. In the morning we’d go downtown, it was all shot in and around the Austin area, so we’d go down to the day labor center in the morning and there’d be a construction foreman looking for guys for a job. Some people with some landscaping needs looking for guys for a job. We’d be out there looking for guys for our job. We were casting based off their face and their voice and taking a leap of faith with the instinct of me and my casting directors who were really unique and really visionary in the lengths and detail of looking for fresh faces. We also did traditional casting. There’s lots of really talented local actors like Adriene Mishler, Heather Kafka, and Jonny Mars. The difficult part of this movie in putting the cast together, in a lot of ways, was finding the character who would play Tye’s father in the movie. I knew I needed a movie star with the magnitude of Cage and a fresh faced, young voice, super energy character for the Gary character, but for that I just didn’t want the cynical Hollywood villain. I wanted somebody that felt sad in a way and had a depth and darkness behind his eyes rather than the guy that was just going to roll up his sleeves and chew on a bad guy role. I auditioned a lot of incredible actors, well known actors, for the part. For those that are familiar with the novel, it’s a very memorable and notable character in contemporary southern literature so we really needed to finesse the casting process. John Williams and Karmen Leech, who were our casting directors, met Gary Poulter at a bus stop here in downtown. He was just waiting for a bus on the way back from his father’s funeral. He’d been living on the streets downtown for quite a while and had a lot of hardships; a lot of stories to tell and a wonderful charisma and positive ambition to bring to the table. He was really looking for a new step in life, so it was amazing to work with him. I introduced him to Cage, it was fun. We had breakfast one morning and they hit it off. Introduced him to Tye and they hit it off. We just really had a wonderful time working on this.

Nicolas Cage: It’s a little sad because I said to Gary, “Just keep it together for one year. Just one year and your life is going to change dramatically. You’re going to get all kinds of phone calls. You’re going to be making all kinds of movies.”

And has that happened?

NC: No, he passed on. So it’s a little bit bittersweet.

Can you also talk about what David was saying. About working with real people. People off the street as opposed to working with other actors and what that was able to add to the authenticity of the movie?

NC: Well the thing is, is that everyone that I worked with had tremendous work ethics. Gary Poulter had a work ethic. He had the Vincent Price monologue from the Black Widow Alice Cooper song down. He performed it all the time.

Will that be on the DVD?

NC: It was outstanding. He was a real trained street performer. So when I was ready to work, he was ready to work and vice versa. It didn’t feel that much different than working with someone out of Julliard. He was on point.

This movie is different. It’s a mix of friendship and violence and redemption. Were you trying to escalate your career to new heights?

NC: Who?

For you.

NC: No. I was just trying to make a good movie.

Joe had all these inner demons, it seems, but he was also like an everyday man. What do you bring to a character like that who is obviously very different than yourself. There must be a lot of similarities somewhere in there for you to reach in and get that for your performance.

NC: The great news was that when I read the script I knew right away that this was something where I wouldn’t have to act too much and I could bring whatever my life experience was from the last two years into the role. It’s interesting because when my wife saw the movie when it premiered, I think in Venice, she said, “Well that’s you.”

I have a question for the director. What drew you into making a picture about what I see as a community of violence where problems are generally solved through aggression rather than through reasoning. Is there something in your background or your special interests that draw you to that?

DGG: Well I’ll work backwards. When I read the script it struck me as a great contemporary western, a genre that I’ve always been really drawn to and that I love. This story, particularly, was based on a novel by Larry Brown and when I was in college a film professor of mine named Gary Hawkins introduced me to Larry’s work as a southern writer among other writers such as Harry Crews and Tom Franklin, a lot of great writers. Cormac McCarthy is generally escalated but then there’s guys like Charles Morris that are amazing and when you dust them off it’s beautiful literature.

So you’ve known about this?

DGG: Known about the novel for a long time. I worked on a documentary about Larry, the novelist’s, life. So I got to know Larry when he was alive. My professor did the adaptation of the novel after Larry passed away. My professor, in honor of Larry, said “I want to take a stab at Joe because that’s the one I find most personal.” The most personal to Larry and the most personal to himself. The story is very distant from me but it’s something that really resonated with a lot of relatives to me, people I know. I feel very familiar with this world though I can’t say I’ve grown up in the squalor of Tye’s character and can’t say I’m as badass and masculine as Nic’s character. It’s people I look up to and I wonder about even the horrific characters or the quirkier characters. They’re people that I feel in my strange life I’ve met along the way. I love to explore and take these steps in their shoes.

That’s what I liked about it, because all the characters felt lived in and these two actors were just perfect. It’s almost as if the roles were made for them but of course they weren’t.

DGG: I talked about the authenticity of the raw, untrained actors but it’s great when you have actors that can find within them depths of reality and really trigger something in audiences. It’s the reason we go to movies. To see guys like these guys that really invite us into their lives and experience characters through their eyes. That’s the most rewarding part of a movie like this. Getting in the ring with Nic and Tye and bringing a story that’s very passionate and I have a great history with to life.

NC: One of the great things about working with Dave is that he will interview his actors. He’ll invite little stories that you may recall in your own lives and just put them into the film so you get that feeling of spontaneity and feeling of life actually happening as opposed to just sort of acting.

And that makes it more your story too, right?

NC: Little memories. Little bits and pieces. Little bits of dialog. Little thoughts or experiences that actors kind of put into the performance so that you don’t have to act so much. It’s very much a part of the process working with David. He genuinely goes through an interview process.

I have a question for Tye. You have had a pretty remarkable start to your career. Something that a lot of actors couldn’t even dream of having off the bat. What did you learn from working with David and Nic? Was there something unique about working with them?

Tye Sheridan: Yeah, absolutely. I loved working with both of them. I liked working with David because, as Nic said, he likes incorporating a sense of realness and honesty into his films. He’s very spontaneous. I remember one time he told me to eat a booger. I told him no. And Nic is a true professional and has had a great career over a number of years. I look up to him, he’s one of my role models.

David, you said something about Tye being in a point in his career where he’s perfect for the film.

DGG: Perfect for me to mess around with him. Sometimes people get a little manicured. It’s fun to find someone that’s fresh and energetic. You can sculpt things. People are self conscious, especially young actors who are starting to look at themselves and see themselves in certain interviews and think “Man, I’m cool as shit.” So it was good to get Tye before he took on that teen idol role. I got to be a big brother to him. He brings a lot of ideas to the table. As much as me or Gary or Larry are looking at this period in a young man’s life, why not look to the young man to tell us what to say. He would come up to us and say “This line’s bogus.” Hey man, it’s gone. Say what you need.

NC: I was also witness to the moment Tye said “No, I will not eat a booger.” It shows that he has dignity.

That’s one funny story. Did you have other on set funny things that happened?

DGG: I work with a real loyal group of filmmakers as a part of the crew and I always cast, regardless of the darkness or dramatic nature of the film, I always cast people with a sense of humor because people that are super serious don’t understand when I ask them to eat a booger it’s not necessarily about that. It’s about something more. It’s about inviting a little bit of absurdity into the process and humanity into the process. Making sure that no matter who we are and what sort of pedestal or glamorous lighting we’re under, we’re all eating boogers man.

NC: I do remember in between some takes that were particularly tense scenes I would go into my David Lynch impression and David would start cracking up at that. I remember we had a few laughs about that.

Can we see a David Lynch impression?

NC (as David Lynch): Solid gold, Nicster buddy. That was solid gold! That’s the margarita talking, Nicster. That’s the margarita.

I’d like you to talk about the deer scene, because that was the most epic scene ever. You have these three characters and then Nic’s character walks in and it’s a whole scene of hilarity and I was wondering how much was adlibbed in that scene in particular and the movie?

DGG: That was funny. I happened to see the movie Bernie when we were casting and so this lady Kay Epperson was in that movie and kind of stole the show in a lot of ways for me. Everytime they’d interview her I’d just pee my pants. So I was like, “Man, where’s that lady?” So we brought in Kay. She was out in Longview so we brought her in and all bets were off when Kay showed up. I just finished a new movie with her too because I just fell in love with her. She’s the lady that’s sitting the a wheelchair just talking trash. So, we had a good game plan. Tye’s more of a deer hunter than anybody else that was working with us so we looked to him for a little technical advice and expertise. We kind of just let it loose. It’s one of those scenes where there’s the elephant in the room, so to speak. In this case it was a deer. So we just wanted to get in there and make it have a sense of strange absurdity within this southern world. I wanted a little ensemble. It’s different than the novel. In the novel it’s all very straight forward. It’s all a bunch of brothers including, I think her name was Stacey, but she was a guy in the book. It was like, well let’s make Stacey a woman and get Kay. I tried hard for Kay. I think it was pretty much all improvised. Then we let chickens loose in the house. Nic was chasing them out. That was my favorite stuff. I love animals, man. With animals you never know what you’re getting. Everybody says don’t mess with animals and little kids in movies but those are the funniest things because you can’t be in control. I like to lose control as a director.

Well the dogs are like characters in the movie in and of themselves. Can you talk about working with the dogs. Having the good dog that’s always out of control and the evil dog that just won’t shut up.

DGG: Nic’s like a dog whisperer.

NC: That’s true. I love dogs. So did Larry Brown. He had a passion about them. In fact when he started making a little money he spent it on dogs. He would study them. Faith was the name of the American Bulldog that was really the star of the movie and she was a dog that liked to run off. She’d smell a cat or something and off she would go. It took a little bit to get her to stay on her mark and be in the scene, but she was a real sweet dog. I don’t know where she is now. I think she was up for adoption.

What about the other dog, because the timing on that dog was perfect.

DGG: That dog had done some shows, man. We needed a ringer for that one. Obviously, dealing with things like animal violence you want to be very ethical about and Bobby Colorado, our little animal wrangler, was on point and brought in a dog she knew could be pro and give us some grisly intentions without actually having to have a connection between the two animals. It’s kind of funny, I learned a trick from that movie Amores Perros. You just kind of have dogs playful and they’re just “Yap, yap, yap” and kind of playing grab ass and then you just add some vicious sound effects. All of the sudden you’ve got a pretty off putting thing.

Nic, when I was watching Joe I had recollections of Leaving Las Vegas. When you were reading the script did you have that in mind as well?

NC: No, I didn’t. I saw them as two entirely separate kinds of characters. Ben is someone who is actively drinking himself to death by design, by will. He wants to die. Joe wasn’t really someone who was on a death trip, in my mind. He was a pretty together guy. He had good relationships with people in the community. He showed up for work every day. He paid everybody. He was fair. Two different kinds of characters, entirely.

David, can you talk about any of the connective tissue, if there is any, between this film and Prince Avalanche because you made them right on top of each other and they’re taking place in the same location. Can you talk spiritually about the connective tissue?

DGG: I was kind of in development on them at the same time. I was location scouting for that film while I was trying to woo Nic into being in this movie. He came out to Austin and drove around in the ashes and remains of the state park forest fire in Bastrop with me. It was kind of cool to be able to overlap them in a way and there is a spiritual connection between the two projects. There’s something about mother nature’s efforts and the catastrophic nature of a forest fire and also something very intimate and peculiar about a man that takes a hatchet with poison and takes out a tree. There’s a will. As much as a lot of my films have been kind of studies of strange conflicts of masculinity I think there’s also a great backdrop. I’m always fascinated by where we are and who are these people in this place at this time. We shot right across the highway from where we were shooting Prince Avalanche. In Avalanche we were looking for where the char ended, where the fire ended. With Joe we wanted to cross the street to where life began again. With a little more hindsight and reflection I’ll be able to connect them a little bit, but we really made them back to back. One of them is certainly a little funnier and one’s a little darker. It’s up to you to decide which one. Your own personal perspective would dictate which one that is. For me, I think Joe is hilarious.

That’s one of the things I really liked about the movie. I feel like it characterized the male psyche in many Texas communities. There’s that type of character. In contrast, the women are pretty ineffectual and in the background. Is there anything to that?

DGG: Actually, there were two female characters that we shot substantial amounts of from the novel. One being Joe’s ex-wife and one being a woman he meets at a bar. Something about those felt like they were detours for another film, because this was a portrait or a study of Joe and the masculine fabric of this character. We had great performances from two great actresses and you see little glimpses of them. One of them he just pulls up next to her and rolls down his window halfway and looks at her. We know there’s substance and I like knowing that there’s ambiguity there for the audience. We know there’s something. Who is this person? Have I seen her before? We as an audience get to wonder about it. I think when I spelled it all out it was a little too distracting to what this particular movie was trying to say.

There’s a line in the film that really stood out to me. It’s said by Joe. “I can’t get my hands dirty in every little thing.” Do you feel like this idea of getting your hands dirty applies to your life, whether it’s your career or otherwise?

NC: I certainly understand that line. I understand the need to have restraint. I have friends that, and I won’t mention any names, could be liabilities. If they want to go to jail, you don’t want to go with them. So you have to try and not get your hands dirty in every little thing.

David, you were talking about the connective tissue between Prince Avalanche and Joe, does that extend beyond Joe to Manglehorn and possibly The Line, which you reportedly could be directing?

DGG: I’m not sure about The Line. It definitely does to Manglehorn. I really think this is a strange Texas Trilogy. There’s this movie called Manglehorn that I’m editing right now with Al Pacino and Holly Hunter and Harmony Korine and Chris Messina. A strange cast of characters. I think a lot of it is just when I moved to town. I’ve known Austin well and grew up in Texas, but when I started to look at it through the lens of a camera and started finding these faces and voices and what appeals to me about the region and the landscape. In the case of Manglehorn it’s a little bit more of an urban movie, but all the story of three wandering souls looking for their place in this somewhat magical journey. Manglehorn kind of heightens that and actually is magical, but definitely the same kind of melancholy structure and looking for a little bit of life and love in wandering souls, I guess. I haven’t polished that movie off yet so I’m not really sure exactly what it is at the end of the day, but it came from a very similar place and a similar heartbeat.

Can you talk about the evolution or the genesis of the “Pain Face” sequence and where that came from?

NC: About 2000 years ago I had put a script together called Heartbreaker Inc. which never got made. In that script I put a line in there and I never found a place that made sense where it could work. I thought maybe with Joe, it could work. I don’t know how it came to me. I think I was looking at old commercials of the Marlboro Man and there was always this guy that was squinting and kind of smiling. It was like, “You look like you’re in pain, but you’re smiling. Is that the icon of cool? Is that what it means to be cool?” I broke it down. I did the math on it. Make the face of pain and then smile. Yeah, that’s cool. So I thought I ‘d put that concept in this movie. You wanna make the anatomy of a cool face? Ok, make a face of pain and now smile through it. Now, you’re cool. That’s how it happened.

What about the line where you say you’ve made mistakes but the people of the town won’t let you outlive those mistakes? Did that come from you or from the book or from David?

NC: It was Larry. You mean about the law? That’s a very, kind of, Larry Brown honest statement about once you get on the bad side of the law they’re not going to let you forget it. Which is very true.

The hatchet work that you do in the wooded area is a very backbreaking work. Do you have any personal experience with labor intensive work? What’s been the most back breaking work that you’ve done?

NC: I used to sell popcorn at the Fairfax Movie Theater in Los Angeles. That was my first job. I took the tickets as well and was also the usher in that movie theater. I was trying to figure out how I could get from selling the tickets to the screen, you know? I’d look and watch the movies and one guy, one day was smoking in the movie theater. My boss said, “You gotta tell him to put it out.” I went up to the guy and said, “I’m sorry sir but you’ve got to put your cigarette out.” He took one big puff and had some girl around him and he just blew all the smoke in my face. I quit. That was the most back breaking work I’ve ever done. My dad said, “Go back to the theater and get your job back!” So I had to beg the boss to give me my job back.

DGG: I’ve had a lot. Literally back breaking work. I had to insulate attics. I was a little guy so they’d always send me into the little cramped attics and rolling out the insulation or whatever we were putting in there. We’d be crawling around in small spaces and that was in North Carolina so it was pretty intense in the summertime. I also did a weird job where I worked at a door knob factory. I could only work 20 hours a week but they paid me real well to dump door knobs in acid when they would bronze these chrome door knobs. So it was just me in this HAZMAT suit dunking door knobs all day into big tubs. It really worked out the shoulder muscles.

For Nicolas, for every scene you show a lot of body language. Whenever you act in a scene do you act as if that was the last scene of your life?

NC: Well….um. Body language. Last scene of my life. I have this, believe it or not, this mantra before I start a movie where I want to really treat every film I’m making as though it were my last. Meaning that, no matter what the genre, I want to give it 100%. My all. Try to get close to whatever vision I had in my head for the part. I don’t know if that answers your question. Then body movement has always been important to me. My mother was a dancer. An experimental dancer. A modern dancer. So I take dance seriously. I’m not a dancer but the way I move in a character is important to me.

With movies that are based on books, filmmakers have to make certain cuts to the novel so that things can work as a film. If somebody were to make a movie about y’alls life, what kind of cuts do you think people would make?

NC: I don’t think I’d cut anything. I don’t think it’d all fit into one movie. Might have to be episodic.

DGG: That’s a good question. I like that one a lot.

I was interested in the films cutting, where you sometimes have another scene start visually while you’re still verbally left in the previous scene. It seems like you use that technique a lot.

DGG: I just get super excited to see what’s going on next. I work with this editor named Colin Patton. He was an assistant editor I had for a number of years on movies and I started to wonder, “What is he doing over there?” Looking through his eyes and seeing the strange way he would approach a narrative. When it came time to make Prince Avalanche, actually, we didn’t have any money to pay my big Hollywood editor so I said, “Hey Colin, do you want to come edit this movie for me?” He was like, “Sure, let’s do it.” What I love about Colin is that he just really brings a fresh innovative way of looking at a scene. Sometimes rhythmically he just finds a way to put voices from other scenes into previous scenes and intercut them in a way where it’s not like flashbacks or flash forwards. There’s nothing traditional about it. It just feels organic and feels correct. He comes from a visual arts background, not a technical filmmaking background and I really like his approach in that way.

It feels anticipatory.

DGG: Yeah, I like that. In a lot of ways I like to bring a little anxiety and plant a seed of discomfort while you’re trying to settle in. Just when you feel like you’ve got your groove it comes and tickles you in the butt.

This question is for Nic and Tye. I was wondering, in terms of your chemistry on screen which is a knockout, did you guys go through any bonding prior to the film in order to kind of get that on screen chemistry with one another?

NC: We just read through some scenes together with David and I knew right away that I could really care about that person.

TS: Yeah, you’re a pretty easy person to get along with.

I think the elephant in the room is of course the beard you’re sporting in this film. I’m serious. I think facial hair is an important thing in the way it changes the way your face looks. Can you talk to us about getting up in the morning and seeing that beard?

NC: The beard was really important to David. When you look at the book and you see Larry’s picture you’ll see why. Larry’s got a nice beard. I think there is a physical resemblance between the two of us. It’s interesting, I just finished working with Paul Schrader and the one thing he wanted to know was, “Is the facial hair real?” I said, “Yes it is. It absolutely is real.” I want that on record.

David, why was it important that he have a beard?

DGG: In looking to cast Joe, my first instinct when looking at the book way back was that this was Robert Mitchum. Whenever I read a book I’m thinking about the movie. I’ve been that way since I was a little kid. So I’m thinking about Robert Mitchum. Someone who really has this sense of wit and masculinity and dramatic ability and Nic is the only guy when I started thinking about the reality of putting this project together that carries those with gusto. That has the Oscars to prove it, that has the bad ass action movies to prove it, that has the hilarious comedies that I could quote to you all day to prove it. So I really wanted that complicated texture. Also, I wanted to being Larry out. I wanted to bring Larry out to the show and there was a resemblance. There is a resemblance if you look at images of Larry. When Nic grows the beard out there is a very vivid resemblance. When I started imagining that, I couldn’t get it out of my mind. I talked to him about it, and he’s never sported it for a movie as far as I know.

NC: First time. I tried to, but you were the first director that said go ahead and wear a beard.

Going back to Nic and Tye, Nic I find one of the things that’s great about you as an actor is that you’ve always been really good with working with younger actors and with children. What do you find enjoyable about that experience and what was unique about working with Tye?

NC: Well Tye is just an exceptional talent. We know that and we’ve seen it time and again in his performances. I like to work with young people because young people haven’t had their dreams kicked out of them yet. They’re full of confidence and imagination and vision and when they score, that all get’s empowered. Tye was a great example of that. Yeah, I do prefer to work with younger people.

Related question in some ways, I was just at a festival with Matthew Modine and they screened Birdy and he had amazing things to say about you. I had not seen it since it was out and was just struck by how young and beautiful he looked in that movie. So I’m curious, connected to that question, how it feels having done so many roles as a young actor and now you’re one of the old guys on the set. Subjectively in your experience, what is that like?

NC: It’s a good question. It’s definitely different. Yeah, I was 19 when I did Birdy and Matthew was beautiful then. I never wanted to be the older actor that was giving advice. That, to me, is just so incredibly obnoxious. I just always wanted to be there and working together and finding it together. I never wanted to be the guy that said, “This is how you do it, son.”

Tye, you’ve worked with three Austin based directors with Terrence Malick, David, and Jeff Nichols. We’ve talked a little about what you’ve taken away from the actors you’ve worked with, but what about the directors? What did you take away from them that you’ve been able to apply to roles that you’ve done since.

TS: I think each one has a different style of working. Terrence Malick is super spontaneous, and David as well, but I think he’s a little bit more off book. You never know what you’re going to be shooting that day. Jeff Nichols is solemnly based off his script. You know the schedule three weeks before you shoot it. With David, you show up and you do the scene but then you might change it a couple ways, you never know. I love working with Texan filmmakers. I’ve worked with so many great, talented directors and I always try to take away one thing that I liked about what they do. I was just working a director, Rodrigo Garcia, and one thing I really loved that he did was he always got variations. I think that’s important because when you get into the editing room you never know what’s going to happen. I know a lot of directors do this and I think it’s a smart thing to do. One day, hopefully, I can take some of these and apply them to my movies when I start directing. So I’m very fortunate to have been able to work with the talented filmmakers that I have.

Tye, are you looking forward to any particular kind of role now. The roles you’ve had in these last three movies have been somewhat similar. Do you already have something else in mind?

TS: Sure, yeah. I would love to do a movie where I don’t have to wear dirt on my face and I’m allowed to shower. That’d be really great. Maybe an opportunity will arise soon.

So sequels are hard. Whether it be a sophomore album, a second novel, or the second franchise film, the pitfalls seem to be the same. The vast majority commit one of two major sins; the first being just delivering the same product again to diminishing returns, and the second being getting wildly over-ambitious and losing what made you great in the first place.

This second sin can either be a product of fear, of repeating yourself and being seen as a one trick pony, or of being completely overshadowed by your previous accomplishment, or it can be a product of hubris, of thinking that you’ve earned an inexhaustible amount of goodwill and that more of your particular vision can’t be anything but geat. I’m not sure what exactly happened with The Raid 2, but I suspect hubris is the culprit. The Raid is, simply put, one of the best action movies of all time. A new standard, and one that people recognized and tripped over themselves to promote and worship. I can’t imagine that praise and the anticipation of the sequel didn’t go to director Gareth Evans’ head a little bit.

The Raid 2 is undeniably bigger than the original, but it is a case of more is less. It doesn’t quite suffocate under its own ambitions the way something like The Matrix sequels did, but it certainly lacks the impact that The Raid had. Gone is the incredibly economical narrative that worked so well in The Raid. That story was almost laughably simple. There’s a bad guy at the top of the tower, we gotta get him. That’s it. While that doesn’t seem to lend itself to a feature film, it’s really all you need. It gives the audience a clear goal and allows them go on the ride with their hero. Die Hard, Jaws, Alien, and countless other classic movies have similarly simple plots and also have sequels that lost the plot in the same fashion. The movies are propulsive and exciting because of the simple goals, not in spite of them. We waste no time trying to understand story complexity and are instead in the action with our hero working towards our goal.

Raid2

In The Raid 2, that incredible economical narrative is replaced by a convoluted, but rather generic, crime saga of rival gangs and undercover cops. It also adds nearly an hour to the runtime of the original. Two and a half hours is fine if you’re The Godfather, but it feels awfully drawn out here. The Raid 2 has been advertised as picking up the second the first ended, but that’s not exactly true. We don’t follow our hero Rama, as played again by Iko Uwais, as he exits the tower from the first. Instead we are introduced to a new set of bad guys who very quickly get rid of any remaining characters from the first film and then we are shot forward in time by a significant amount. From here on out The Raid 2 is essentially stand alone and doesn’t have any connection to the first apart from Rama. Rama is now undercover and trying to infiltrate an Indonesian crime family in hopes of rooting out corrupt cops under the gang’s control. Things get complicated quickly as the son of the Indonesian crime lord tries to make a power play by starting a war with a rival Japanese gang and Rama gets pulled in deeper than he expected. Yada Yada.

I can’t fault Evans for having some narrative ambition but the truth is no one is here for the story, and it just isn’t good enough to justify its existence. It also completely destroys the propulsive pace of the original. We are no longer quite sure what our goal is or if we are making progress in achieving it. We aren’t even sure who our hero is anymore. Iko Uwais is sadly sidelined for a huge chunk of this film. He plays almost no major role in the primary plot, often just standing in the background as things happen. He only gets the spotlight when it’s time to fight, which makes his action scenes feel disconnected from the rest of the film, which then makes us not really care. This is the case with most of the action in the film until we reach the finale. There are long stretches of no action and then when an action set piece does rear its head, it feels shoehorned in instead of natural and essential. In fact, several of the major action set pieces in the film could be completely removed without damaging the movie at all. Removing them would actually help the pacing tremendously.

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The best example of this is an entire subplot involving Yayan Ruhian, who you might remember as one of the big bads who was killed in the climactic fight scene of the previous movie. I understand the desire to bring this actor back as he was a fan favorite and is a great martial artist, but he is also incredibly recognizable and having him play a different character is very distracting. It doesn’t help that his character has very little reason to exist apart from having an excuse to show Yayan fighting. This, again, just makes it hard to care when he’s fighting for his life. It just doesn’t really matter.

That’s the biggest shame here. Viewed in a vacuum, there is some incredible action on display. The set pieces are objectively bigger and better than they were in The Raid, but the lack of narrative drive just robs them of any impact. Action has to tell a story, not just be action for action’s sake. There is way too much action for action’s sake here, and it’s just not inventive enough to overcome the narrative slackness.

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The one moment the movie really comes alive and shows some much needed imagination is with the introduction of Hammer Girl and Baseball Bat Man (yes, this is actually how they are credited). This is a brother and sister assassination squad introduced late in the film. We don’t get to know much about them but they are given enough character quirks to allow you to start inventing a backstory (I’d expect a fair amount of fan fiction and cosplaying of the pair). Hammer Girl is deaf, never takes off her sunglasses, and uses ( surprise surprise) a pair of hammers as unique fighting weapons. Baseball Bat Man is straight out of Paranoia Agent as he eerily drags his baseball bat around before exploding with violence. The film really comes alive with these characters and had me pining for a film full of more iconic villains with unique styles to pit Rama against.

I realize I’m coming off as unnecessarily harsh, especially for a movie many are calling the best action movie ever made. You can certainly watch this and have a great time with it. It has undeniably great action. It just really fails at giving that action any purpose. It somehow manages to make it a bit boring, something I never thought I’d be saying.

Final Score: 3/5

The first film of my SXSW 2014 experience was Bad Words, the feature film directorial debut of actor Jason Bateman.

The film is about an adult man that finds a loophole in competition rules that allows him to compete in a kid’s spelling bee. Bateman plays a mean, cynical man and much of the humor is derived from his inappropriate interactions with the children, especially a young Indian boy who attempts to befriend him.

After the film I was invited to partake in a roundtable interview with Jason and his co-star Kathryn Hahn. For clarity’s sake, all reporter questions and comments are italicized. I’ve also bolded my own questions, so you know I’m not the weirdo saying women shouldn’t curse and Yale alumni can’t be funny.

Bad Words opens in limited release tomorrow, March 14th, before expanding on March 28th.

Kathryn Hahn:

Is it ok to look at you while we ask questions? (This is in reference to a running joke in the film where Kathryn’s character does not like to be looked at during the act.)

No! Please avoid eye contact.

I have to ask, was that drawn from some sort of personal experience? Maybe not necessarily from you…

You have to ask that? Boy, this just got real personal. That’s from the sicko mind of Andrew Dodge, the writer. That was kind of the parameters of the sex scene.

I’m sure when you’re looking at that in the script you’re like ‘Oh my god, I can’t wait.”

Could. Not. Wait. I knew it would be twice and I also knew that with Bateman it was going to be a beautiful launching pad for us to kind of fill it out and make something happen. Yeah, very funny.

It’s sort of a great structure for your relationship.

I love that every time he looks at her she has to start completely over. Like literally from the very beginning. Like, ‘This is gonna go on all night. Back to one.”

Was that also one of those things that when you’re shooting it you are trying a variety of different ways of doing that?

I mean, we shot in a practical janitors closet at the lovely Sportsman’s Lodge in Burbank, California. Or maybe not Burbank, I think it was Studio City. Details, guys. I gotta fact check myself. I think, in the parameters of that, there were like six of us in there. So there wasn’t a lot of room for trying different positions. We knew that we were stuck in ye olde missionary.

I meant more in like, line delivery…

(Laughs) Sorry, my mind is stuck. Yeah we did, there was some playing around. Absolutely. But, you know, Andrew Dodge wrote such a crazy, tight, economic gem. There really wasn’t a ton we had to do. I think that would have defused what was there.

Jason mentioned last night that you guys had a personal friendship, and how that could make that scene pretty awkward…

Oh my god, yes! So awkward! I was really like, ‘Don’t look at me. I’m going to break and we’ll never get it back.” Which is a hilarious metaphor. We had a pillow between us. Two pillows. So we could just go for it and not be uncomfortable.

So I’m guessing that’s how you go onto the project in the first place? The fact that you guys have a personal relationship?

As it were. Yes, we’ve been friendly for a couple of years. I adore him. I adore his wife. Huge crush on his wife. I knew when the script was sent to me that whatever he decided was gonna be his first time out as a feature director was going to be something special. I’ve always just trusted his taste. Just as an audience member. I’m always checking in with Jason Bateman on screen because I just know that’s where the brains are. I just know that his POV I trust.

That’s got to be interesting because of that dynamic of working with an actor and director but then adding friend into that equation. You don’t ever want your friend to be your boss.

Yeah. I’m telling you, it sounds so cliche but it was a ball. It was a ball. You could tell that he was having the time of his life. He had done so much prep work. He armed himself. I think he knew that with the parameters of the shoot that it was going to be short, so he armed himself with so much prep that by the time we started shooting he was so calm and so comfortable. It would be very hard not to micromanage, I could imagine. Especially your first time out to bat. Especially with a world that is so specific. He created such a visual, tonal world. It would have been very difficult to just relax had you not done all the work up till then.

Obvious question here, would you talk about your own spelling bee experiences.

Awful. I never did an actual spelling bee but I took latin in high school so I thought that I had a leg up on the root words. So I can usually dig a root word out of something but I’m not very good at spelling.

Were you familiar with any of the words that were used in the movie?

Nougat. Very familiar with nougat.

There’s a lot of cursing in this film. Some people would say that the classier the woman the less they curse. Would you agree with that?

No. I like a broad.

What are some life situations that would get you to start letting them fly?

Oh, anything. Name your poison. I love a swear word. I really do. But I have the two peanuts at home, so you gotta edit yourself big time. They take it all in.

Do you have a favorite?

A favorite child? Yes. Absolutely. And I’ll tell you why. (Laughs) No, I love a simple fuck. It’s always so horrible to actually say it out loud but that’s true. Just a simple fuck. In a pinch, guys, it covers a lot. I grew up in Ohio, I don’t know if this is particular to Ohio, but with my parents there was a lot of ‘Oh, poop on a stick! Shut the front door!” You almost with they would have just let it fly. It would have been a little less embarrassing.

What do you like about playing characters that are shameless? You seem to have a couple of those under your belt. Stepbrothers comes to mind.

I’m a fan of bite in comedy. I’m a big fan of comedy that’s got an edge to it. And as a character, comedy or drama, I like a woman that’s on the edge of an abyss. Whatever that is. It could be big or small. It’s just a precipice I’m always interested in. Exploring that leap into the unknown.

How funny were you allowed to get at Yale?

There’s nothing funny about Yale.

I mean on stage. Did you ever do any comedy there?

We had an awesome ragamuffin class. I loved my class at Yale. We got a clown teacher up there. We did some comedia. Not a lot of improvising, that didn’t come for me until later. I never took improv classes or anything like that. It was being introduced to Adam McKay that really cracked that open for me. I think I’ve talked about this before, but at Yale… I will never forget that experience. It was a rigorous, blessed three years. I didn’t have to worry about anything but just the work. We were producing plays at one in the morning. It was heaven, heaven, heaven. We didn’t have a television. The best. I will hold that to my heart forever. I was accruing loans but it was just like pretend. I knew I’d have to eventually pay that off but you didn’t have to really think about that while you were there. It was pure and really blessed. Of course we did a lot of comedy. I think a lot of my classmates would say I was like the clown. There were a lot of clowns in my class, though. We laughed a lot. I think in the theater you find that. It’s not fun to see a real serious serious play.

When you think Yale theater the first thing to pop into mind isn’t a bunch of people up there horsing around.

But the play is to a point. It’s about cracking something open. Comedy is hard, I think. Really hard. We were grad student kids, we had a ball, but it was to a point.

On the same note of being a clown at Yale. Were you aware that on IMDB your one trademark is “known for making exaggerated facial expressions’?

Yeah, I saw that. We were laughing and I said ‘I think that should be the name of my autobiography’. Like ‘Making Faces: The Story of Kathryn Hahn’.

Maybe the quote on your tombstone? ‘She was really good at making exaggerated faces’.

(Laughs) Hmm, I don’t know about that.

Can you talk a little bit about Afternoon Delight? That is such a wonderful film. We always see you in these supporting roles but you totally owned that film. How hard is it to get something like that made?

I will just forever be grateful to Jill Soloway for seeing that in me and giving me that opportunity. They had not come my way with that kind of a role since Yale, really. That hadn’t been really asked of me. To go to those kinds of places, which is all you want to do as a performer. That was heaven. Heaven. We shot it in three weeks. We used my minivan. It was like a three week fever. We shot six days a week and rehearsed on the seventh day. Rented a little house that the DP and Jill and I would just take turns sleeping in so we could get a full night’s sleep because we all had kids. We knew no one could get any sleep. The bar really was raised with that particular experience with me.

Jason Bateman –

Your costar Rohan is a very mature young man. Was it challenging to throw out those expletives his way?

The film was not improvised. He and his parents knew everything that was coming and were certainly prepped for it. I had extensive conversations with him and his parents about the kind of tone and spirit and where all these prickly scenes were coming from. What the deeper and slightly more sophisticated agenda was that would play, hopefully, underneath the whole movie. Certainly Guy’s journey. I just asked them to trust me that I was going to build the film and aesthetic and that it wouldn’t feel gratuitous or arbitrary to the audience. That this wasn’t going to be something embarrassing for them. This was a drama for everyone inside the movie. This guy got his feelings hurt and he’s just not properly equipped to deal with that. And we, the same audience, laugh at his inability to manage his life, but it is a drama to them. That would be, hopefully, the spine of the movie and make those prickly things feel a little less sophomoric.

Can you talk a little bit about where Arrested Development falls into that position where you are now allowed to make your directorial debut?

Arrested Development is the father and mother of my career now in the second half. I was a working actor for the decade between The Hogan Family and Arrested Development but I certainly was not making a lot of choices, you know? I was basically taking what I got and Arrested Development provided a project that was embraced by those who hand out jobs in Los Angeles. That was really, really fortunate. I would have taken a job that was half as good and would have perhaps stayed on the air twice as long. Respect and quality I think is the fuel of longevity as opposed to fame and fortune. Arrested Development gave me a great deal of much needed credibility and was a basic reset button on some of the stuff that I had done in the past. I’m just gonna try my damndest not to screw it up and stay at the party for another 30 years.

A lot has been made about this being your directorial debut, but you’ve been directing television since you were 18…

Yeah, with the exception of Arrested Development all of the directing has been multicamera. Which, I do not mean to belittle, but it’s a different job as a director. You’re mandate there is to corral the rehearsal and make the comedic writing work and have its rhythm stay intact. It’s shot proscenium style where it’s three walls; it’s theater. There’s and audience and it’s a different process. When you direct single camera you are choosing lenses, there’s a lighting strategy, music, and a whole environment that a director is allowed to build. In television it’s a bit more of a writer/producer’s medium. In film you’ve got a bit of creative autonomy that is extremely exciting to me. But very challenging.

Talking about the aesthetic a little bit more, and I don’t know if I’m completely wrong here, but I saw the tiniest twinges of the aesthetic of Wes Anderson in the beginning of the film. Has anybody said that to you or are there any references you used?

That’s high praise. I mean Wes Anderson, Paul Thomas Anderson, David O. Russell, The Coen Brothers, Alexander Payne, and Spike Jonze… these guys have a rawness to the aesthetic. A palette that they use. The way that they use the visual element of this medium to perform. That is a character in the film. It sets a mood for the audience that hopefully allows the audience to be a bit more accepting of a fringe society that these filmmakers usually like to tell their stories in. The characters are usually people that you drive by but you don’t often talk to. Situations that you usually skirt because we’re a bit more highly functional. Decisions that are made that are less responsible than those of responsible adults like us. I think there is a visual component to that and a musical component to that that is fascinating to me and I really look forward to learning a whole lot about. One of the main things that attracted me to this script was that that would be a necessary world and a palette to establish to the audience because we’re dealing with an odd group of people making odd decisions. If it looks like today and like where we all live it would feel broad and hokey, but if it feels real and feels raw then you accept the eccentricities of the story and the characters.

Kathryn was talking, specifically about the “don’t look at me” scene, about how a lot of what was there was in the script. I’m curious about one of my very favorite scenes in the movie which I kind of think of as the ‘Five Easy Pieces’ moment where you’re talking to the woman in the diner and kind of putting her in her place. Is all that in the script as well or did you get to kind of play around and try different retorts?

Well I’ve never been a fan of actors talking about what they wrote and what the writer wrote because that’s very unfair to the writer, but Andrew was incredibly collaborative for a long time. All the way through the process. I invited him to be on set the entire shoot and he was there every day. We worked long and hard on the script for about a year before we ended up shooting it. There were two phases of that. One was just me as a director trying to funnel all that was in the script into the version, style, and aesthetic that I wanted to use. Then once I decided to play the lead character we went through it again and I knew the way I was going to play that part very specifically. So certain words might be inconsistent with that approach and certain words might better enhance that approach.

But not a lot of improv in the film itself? It’s pretty much all what’s on the page?

There certainly was some, which I’m a fan of because once something becomes three dimensional and other actors start doing things that you can’t predict the night before when you’re practicing your faces in the mirror, things are different and you need to be able to pivot. So sometimes certain words or certain things could be a little bit better, but for the most part Andrew and I got that exactly the way we wanted it all the way down to the shooting. Everything was shot listed and storyboarded and I knew exactly the way that every single piece… the way that I’d like to shoot everything. I decided on lens sizes and everything. Scouted. We knew we’d have a pretty abbreviated schedule and that I was going to be splitting my duties, so everything was kind of done.

Can you talk about the color palette because it’s more of a drama color palette…

I was getting a lot of green and that was in sharp contrast with the HD scenes where we see the live television.

Sure. We wanted to make sure that the television had a different look than the film. What you’re privy to in the audience versus what the audience that’s watching the tv show would be privy to. So we shot that on different equipment and had a whole different process. The overall palette of the film is what we were talking about. It was very desaturated, and the greens, and the blues, and the things that just lend themselves to establishing a bit more of a melancholy, introspective position for the audience because hopefully that’s where I wanted the audience to start and to remember as they were experiencing all of the humor and the veneer of Guy. I wanted them to remember that this was a guy that was raw and wounded inside. Something that’s oversaturated, something that’s super lit, something that’s on wide angle lenses usually feels a little bit safer. It’s all parts of the process that I’ve never been able to participate in and the fact that this script demanded that was one of the big draws.

Speaking of script demands, all of the prep that goes into spelling the big words, would you still be able to spell floccinaucinihilipilification?

I could get close, but everything was written on big white boards. The fun part was that we had to write them on multiple boards around the auditorium so that I could get three letters there, three more there, three more there so it didn’t look like I was reading it. I was in one spelling bee in grade school and I lost in the first round because I forgot the w in answer. I’m not bookish.

It’s been awhile since I have seen a truly atrocious movie. One of those films where you can’t tell whether you should pity or punch the people responsible. One where your only real choice is to walk out or just start laughing. Experiencing a film like this is like staring death in the face, either you give in to the hilarity of the unrelenting awfulness and your inability to change its course or go mad. These experiences are important. They harden you. They prepare you for the worst life has to offer. For this, I’d like to thank Rob Zombie.

 

Zombie’s latest, The Lords Of Salem, is truly one of the worst films I’ve ever seen. I spent half the film confused and enraged. Utterly unable to comprehend a world where someone could present this to an audience with a straight face. Eventually my resistance was quelled. The act of giving up and giving in was a physical one. A slow deflation as my previous view of the world was washed away by the slow tide of Zombie’s juvenile vision. By the end of the film I had almost entered a state of euphoric delirium. A constant slow chuckle. A chuckle turned into a full gut laugh by the perfect punchline, “Written and Directed by Rob Zombie”. Then the lights came up, the real world came rushing back in, and I looked back on what had occurred with a newfound clarity. I stopped laughing. Perhaps forever.

 

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The Lords Of Salem tells the tale of a radio DJ Heidi Hawthorne, played by Sheri Moon Zombie, who is the descendant of Salem witch hunter John Hawthorne. One day she receives a mysterious LP from a band called The Lords. The record is just a simple set of notes repeated indefinitely but it has the power to awaken an ancient witch coven who then targets Heidi and tries to make her the vessel through with Satan will be reborn. Or something. It doesn’t matter.

 

The Lords Of Salem is just an excuse for Zombie to indulge in all of his worst tendencies. To open his junior high notebook and use his margin scribblings as storyboards. And of course to show his wife in various states of undress. One scene even has he waking up a couch with her shorts pulled down just enough to expose her ass. She stands up and pulls them up as she walks away from the camera. I just love the idea of Zombie composing the shot and feeling like something just wasn’t right before having a eureka moment before yelling, “Sheri, pull your pants down a bit. This is important…. Perfect!”

 

He fills the film with ridiculous “evil” imagery, but it’s a Halloween shop version of evil. It’s evil as envisioned by children, while the adults are having a laugh. That in and of itself isn’t a bad thing, and Zombie himself has used that to great effect in his music career and first couple of films. It can be fun when you know its being presented in a playful manner. The trouble with Lords of Salem is that it is dead serious. It presents everything with an air of import. It’s meant to be a slow and unsettling build of tension before unleashing true hell at the end. You’re meant to be disturbed.

 

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Zombie even goes so far as to blatantly mimic the style of some of the few directors who genuinely had the ability to disturb, namely Stanley Kubrick and Alejandro Jodorowsky. The films climax is stylistically beholden to those influences but only manages to understand the aesthetic, and not what really made them effective. So by the time you’re watching Sheri Moon ride a goat like an electric bull in slow motion or watching masked nuns stroke their bloody erect penises or seeing a hilarious and weirdly adorable tumor baby waddle around in a cheap costume you aren’t disturbed at all. You just have to laugh. Which the audience did… a lot. One of the only enjoyable aspects of Lords of Salem was witnessing the slow build of incredulousness in the crowd. Seeing the eyes dart around that said, “This is ridiculous, right? You guys see that, right? Should we be laughing? Yeah… I’m laughing.” It built slow and climaxed with the truly stupid final images followed by that Rob Zombie credit.

 

It’s unfortunate, because Zombie is a truly capable director that has the capacity for some striking visuals. He’s just undone by his horrible taste. The Lords Of Salem is the film that finally killed my hope that he would one day make something great.

Modern art makes me uncomfortable. I often feel like an imposter and intruder at museums, as I scan the wall, desperately hoping I’m not found out. Hoping no one asks me what I think of a piece and finds out I have no idea how to process the information. It’s just not a language I’m comfortable with. So much modern art seems to be trying to create meaning in a purely sensory way. I don’t operate well in a sensory world. I tend to be introverted and withdrawn. I interact with my environment in an intellectual and emotional way, but always a step removed. I don’t seek out hallucinatory or mind altering drugs. I have a hard time listening to many forms of electronic music whose main purpose to move you on a physical level. I rarely let myself just experience, I always analyze. I need a narrative and a context.

As such, I have been guilty of dismissing many forms of this sensory art, whether it be music or painting or film. I’ve called it lazy. I’ve accused it of only giving the illusion of meaning. But really the problem lies with me, and my dismissal is a shield.

So, what does that have to do with Spring Breakers? Spring Breakers, like most of Harmony Korine’s work, is an almost totally sensory experience. It is an art film through and through. It’s a barrage of color and shape and there is clearly meaning there, it just requires a different brain than mine. That’s not to say I don’t take anything away from it or that I dislike it, it just works on a different level than I’m comfortable with and requires extra effort on my part to derive meaning from it.

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This may seem like a strange disclaimer for a movie that seems to be marketed as a fairly conventional crazy party film filled with popular starlets, but anyone familiar with Harmony Korine should know better. The eccentric writer/director has never been anything close to conventional and he doesn’t start here.

The story of Spring Breakers, such that there is one, is about a group of four girls who are sick of their town and mundane lives and dream of going to Florida to experience the spring break that MTV and Girls Gone Wild have always told them about. Unfortunately they don’t have the money, so they do the only logical thing and rob a fried chicken joint. Now, with pockets stuffed, they head down to Florida and quickly find themselves in with a bad crowd. Sex and violence ensues.

The way this story is conveyed is what makes Spring Breakers unique. Korine makes heavy use of repeated imagery and sounds. Sometimes the same line of dialog will loop 4 or 5 times, usually juxtaposed with imagery that reveals a hidden truth about what’s being said. Much of the dialog comes in the form of voice over. We hear the girls talking dreamily about how perfect and life changing this trip is. About all the great people they’ve met. About how they’ve finally found themselves. All the while we are seeing images of slow motion bouncing breasts as alcohol is poured over them or images of violent crime.

There are some truly depraved images and sequences in this film, but they are set against this backdrop of naive musings and pop music that you would expect to see in a typical teen coming of age comedy. The film clearly has something to say about the misguided aspirations of today’s youth and the perversion of the American dream. It shows that there is a very thin line between the mind of a teenage girl and a hardened gangster. It shows the hidden danger of innocuous pop culture. Does it really have a concise message about any of this? Maybe. I’m honestly not sure, but it gets you thinking.

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This effect is reinforced by the casting of popular “safe” teen starlets. The casting of Disney alums Selena Gomez and Vanessa Hudgens could be seen as a stunt, but I think it helps drive home a message. In a typical movie, these girls would be in over their head and see the folly of their ways but Spring Breakers is out to surprise you. It shows that the mind of a teenage girl “pretending it’s a video game” and trying to be a “bad bitch” is much more depraved and dangerous than a criminal just trying to make some illegitimate cash. Basically, Gucci Mane has got nothing on Ashley Benson.


The girls go a long way towards destroying their teen image, or at least using that image to disarm you. The only one who gets off clean is Selena Gomez who plays an innocent christian who gets out before things get too crazy. Gomez doesn’t so much as say a single curse word in the film, while her co-stars go all in with sex, nudity, drugs, violence, and true amorality.

Their spirit guide on this journey is James Franco as the rapping drug kingpin “gangsta mystic” Alien. Franco has an incredible amount of fun with the role and its exciting to watch. It’s impossible for him to be too over the top in a movie such as this and he takes that as a challenge.

All this bad behavior is backed by some truly incredible visuals and music. Korine has said that he wanted to world to look like it had been lit by candy and this definitely shows. The neon glow of the world calls to mind films like Enter the Void, which unsurprisingly used the same cinematographer, and the soundscape is straight out of Drive, which also utilized the genius of Cliff Martinez.

All in all, this is an audiovisual sensory experience that you should definitely seek out. You may, like me, have some trouble making logical sense of everything but perhaps approaching the movie intellectually is completely misguided. Just take it in and let yourself feel, if you can.

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So by now you likely know the story behind this latest stab at Shakespeare’s, arguably minor, work. Joss Whedon, fresh off of directing mega blockbuster The Avengers, decided to restore a bit of his sanity by making a small movie with his friends. Luckily enough for him, his friends just happen to be a stable of charming and loyal actors that commonly get together at his place to do Shakespeare readings. Much Ado About Nothing is the result of 12 days of hanging out at Joss’s house, drinking a copious amount of alcohol, and playing with friends.

It’s also worth noting that Whedon made the, not entirely unique, choice to set the play in modern day and using modern speech patterns while maintaining the original text. Shakespeare is not as difficult as many make him out to be but when his words are set to a modern cadence it can be a bit hard to follow if you are not intimately familiar with the words already. I’m a fan but by no means a scholar, and as such it took me a little while at the beginning to get my bearings.

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Once it gets going, it becomes clear how perfect a match Shakespeare is to Whedon. Whedon, despite his history of horror and sci fi and recent turn as action blockbuster director, has always lived and died by dialog and character. Seeing him bring his sensibility to the some of the best dialog in literary history is quite exciting and his troupe of actors are clearly having a blast with it.

And they really are having fun with it. This is no reverential work. Joss and crew allow for improvisation. They alter some text and characterization. They attack the play from a different angle to allow for a darker interpretation. They even poke fun at some of the bards more curious lines and archaic ideas. It never quite breaks the fourth wall but it comes close at times.

The cast is full of Whedon regulars who, if you are familiar with their previous Whedon roles, get to play wonderfully against type. Alexis Denisof, who played the stuffy and awkward Wesley Wyndam-Price in Buffy and Angel, gets to play a showboating lothario as Benedick. Amy Acker, meek and vulnerable in Angel, gets to be a strong independent woman in Beatrice. Fran Kanz, geeky comic relief in Dollhouse and Cabin In The Woods, makes a revelatory turn as a dramatic and romantic lead with Claudio. Sean Maher, virtuous and protective in Firefly, turns villainous and deceitful with Don John. The list goes on, but nearly every actor brings a unique element to the film and gets their own moment to shine.

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There is a downside to all this fun and camaraderie, however. Much Ado About Nothing never quite feels like a real movie. Never quite escapes the feeling that you’re watching a bunch of friends goof around. It often times feels like the actors are seconds away from laughing and breaking character. It sometimes feels like a skit. It veers wildly in tone between heart wrenching monologues, slapstick humor, dark sexuality, self aware camera winking, and wide eyed romanticism.

It’s a strange conundrum. The reason the movie is worth watching is the fact that it explores a myriad of interesting ideas and allows itself to have fun with them, but that also keeps it from feeling real or substantial. It’s all a bit of a goof, but it’s a damned entertaining one.

At last year’s South by Southwest, the Joss Whedon/Drew Goddard instant horror classic Cabin in the Woods played the Paramount theater to a packed and rapturous audience. It was a movie about that audience. A movie that pulled back the curtain, revealed the tricks, and asked, “Why are we here?”.

 

Our 'Cabin in the Woods' showrunners.
Our ‘Cabin in the Woods’ showrunners.

 

It feels a bit strange then to be back a year later in the same theater with the same audience and watching a ‘cabin in the woods’ horror movie. Evil Dead, disregarding its pedigree, is a movie that would have been concocted by the string pullers in Cabin. It is a movie whose only purpose is to indulge its audience. It succeeds and was greeted with the same enthusiastic approval, but it still struck me as odd and got me thinking about the nature of fandom and what exactly a horror movie is supposed to be these days.

 

If you have no interest in my personal ramblings on the subject, I’ll get the review proper out of the way here so you can go about your lives. If you’re on a site like this, you already know about Evil Dead or, at the very least, the concept of a ‘cabin in the woods’ horror flick. Some kids go out to a secluded cabin, usually for the purposes of drinking and fucking, they encounter some evil shit, someone does something stupid, everyone dies. This is that movie, except this time their reasoning is an undercooked DIY rehab plan for an addict friend instead of the usual partying.

 

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Evil Dead wastes very little time with exposition or character development and jumps right into the mayhem, and it is indeed mayhem. This is an over the top fun gore fest the likes of which we haven’t seen in decades. If you’re only interested in seeing blood splatter in inventive ways, there is no way you’ll leave disappointed. Apparently, the initial rating of the film was NC-17, and it’s easy to see why. What we saw was the R rated cut but let me assure you it does not feel compromised. I can’t imagine what they were forced to cut given what they were allowed to keep in. It’s fun and refreshing, which is slightly troublesome.

 

It’s also incredibly slick looking. Director Fede Alvarez takes plenty of cues from Sam Raimi and injects the film with plenty of energy without quite going full cartoon. It’s an admiral job of keeping the kinetic fun house vibe of the original series while also having the sheen of a studio flick with a budget. It’s worth noting that practical effects prevail here, with CG used fairly sparingly.

 

 

The lovely Jane Levy
The lovely Jane Levy

 

The actors all do a serviceable job of screaming and spewing viscera, but lead actress, and potential franchise star, Jane Levy is the only one allowed to really shine. No one is really given enough meat to chew on, metaphorically speaking. There’s plenty of literal meat. Levy is the only one with a real central conflict, as an addict trying to kick the habit and mend a broken relationship with her brother, but it’s just an excuse to get to the bloodshed. It’s not important and therefore doesn’t pay off in a satisfactory way.

 

It’s a lowest common denominator movie, but I liked it. I actually liked it a lot, and thats my problem. Is this good enough? I recognize it as an empty piece of fan service but I was entertained, so why try harder? Why care about theme and characterization when empty indulgence brings down the house?

 

The poster for the original film.
The poster for the original film.

 

You may be saying to yourself, ‘Well, it’s not like the original Evil Dead was anything different.’ You would be partly correct. Raimi’s classic barely had a skeleton of a plot and no concern for character. The only reason it’s protagonist became an icon is due to the idiosyncrasies and charm of Bruce Campbell. But the thing people forget about that first film is how god damn INSPIRING it is.

 

The Evil Dead, like many no budget horror films of the time, succeeds solely on the blood, sweat, tears, and imagination of a small group of people. There wasn’t endless studio money, there weren’t experienced cast or crew. It was just some kids with a dream. You can watch it and be amazed at their ingenuity and resourcefulness and think ‘Maybe I could do that’. Horror and exploitation cinema was really “indie” before that was a buzz word. Before Clerks and Slackers, there was The Evil Dead.

 

 

Sam Raimi on the set of 'The Evil Dead'
Sam Raimi on the set of ‘The Evil Dead’

 

It’s no coincidence that many of our visionary directors got their start in low budget horror. It’s the perfect playground. You can do whatever you want. Find a voice. And you can do it cheap and without the burden of expectation.

 

No one is going to walk away from this new iteration with that inspiration. You can’t do what this movie does without the resources. It loses some magic as a result. It’s a product instead of a labor of love.

 

But horror movie audiences have been all too eager to praise the product for years. It’s hard to think of a less discerning crowd. It seems just about any horror movie gets love just by existing. It doesn’t have to be good, it just has to cater. I’ve definitely fallen victim to this myself. Oh its got practical effects and a cameo from Tom Savini? Give it all the stars. Hell, I had a framed picture of Bruce Campbell displayed as if it was a family photo in my college apartment.

 

This blind adulation was on full display during Friday night’s screening, and I found it quite sad. There was no way the audience wasn’t going to love it, it caters as hard as it can. A shot of a chainsaw or a recognizable line of dialog insures that it will be beloved. I can’t help but feel we should require more. That we should force filmmakers to try harder. That we should desire horror to be about something other than shameless pandering.

 

Until that day, though, we have Evil Dead.

 

For another opinion, check out Jonathan’s review here!

 

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Much has been said about the strange career trajectory of Bobcat Goldthwait, the funny-voiced comedian who seem destined to be a relic of the 80’s, so I won’t waste too much time telling his story again. I love the story though. I love the idea that a respectable career grew from the least likely of places. At least, I’d like to be able to love the idea. As it stands, I have no idea how Goldthwait has garnered all the praise that he has. Is he being given a pass because people want to love the story as well?

I find Goldthwait’s movies painfully juvenile in the way he presents his angry diatribes about modern civilization. He lacks any sign of subtlety. He makes no effort to create characters that feel like they exist in anything resembling a real world. His grievances, which I 100% agree with by the way, are presented in a blunt inelegant manner that reminds me of conversations me and my friends would have when we were fresh out of high school and thought that we had the world figured out. It’s self-important soap boxing with no interest in presenting a balanced and realistic look at the troubles plaguing our society.

Now, this might not be so bad if he fully embraced the lunacy of his world. A lot of the complaints I have with Goldthwait could also be applied to Oliver Stone, who is certainly no stranger to soap boxing. However, in Natural Born Killers, Stone goes so over the top and so weird that the blunt messaging and unrealistic characters felt natural and had the intended impact. The cartoon world served as a good parody of ours. Goldthwait doesn’t go that far, his film worlds are not far removed from our own which makes his preachy characters and wooden dialogue stand out all the more.

I know I’ve written a lot without really saying anything about the movie in question but my criticisms of Goldthwait can be applied to any of his films, God Bless America just happens to be the latest and most egregious.

God Bless America is essentially one part Falling Down and one part Super (substitute Kick-Ass if you’re out of Super, it won’t alter the taste too much). A middle aged man gets fed up with the stupidy he sees in his neighbors, his workmates, his television, and even his kid. So he decides to go on a killing spree, targeting those he feels are most guilty for turning the world to shit. These targets range from spoiled teenagers to reality show hosts. He picks up an adoring 16 year old fangirl along the way who proves to be even more enthusiastic about this bloodshed than he is.

This lack of originality is one of the main reasons God Bless America ranks as the worst of Goldthwait’s films. Another major reason is his misguided attempts at being “edgy”. You get the sense that Goldthwait truly believes he is pushing envelopes with the “extreme” content of his films, but it mostly comes off as tired and laughable. His past movies have dealt with beastiality and auto-erotic asphyxiation but his approach to these topics just feels like a junior high kid who just learned how to curse.

It was funny seeing this film after talking to Mike Birbiglia about his film Sleepwalk With Me. Mike talked about how comedy has changed and how its hard to be edgy because at this point everything has been said and done. You can’t just say ‘cunt’ and get a reaction. He said really the edgiest thing you can do now is just to be honest. To let people in and tell your story. To open yourself up to scrutiny and criticism. To drop the facade of trying to be cool.

Goldthwait isn’t edgy at all, precisely because he’s trying SO hard to be.

I had the pleasure of sitting in on a roundtable interview with Mike Birbiglia to discuss his new film, Sleepwalk With Me. Sleepwalk is the latest, and perhaps final, version of a story Mike has been telling for years. You may have seen his one man show, or heard it in his stand up act, or heard it on This American Life, or maybe you read his book.

It’s a testament to his storytelling ability that it has managed to survive all these iterations and continues to garner interest.

The film is surprisingly sure footed for a first time director and the power of the tale has not diminished in the retelling. Mike’s unique voice shines through despite the more collaborative nature of film.

The interview is shown in full below. The questions have been paraphrased.

How did you decide that you wanted to make this a film, and how did you decide to direct:

No one else was available for the amount of money we had. For any of the positions. For all the positions. I took as many positions as I could. As much as that’s a joke, it’s also very true.

There’s a lot of questions in that.

How did we decide to make it a film? I guess that’s the first question. I’ve wanted to make a film since I was 18 years old. I directed shorts in college but I found it to be prohibitively expensive. It’s a money pit, making films. We have stacks of master tapes in our closets and our parents’ basement of films that aren’t done, shorts that aren’t done, and will never be done. That’s discouraging. I veered towards standup comedy around that time because there’s no overhead. I was able to perform my writing and I was able over time to sculpt my writing from something that was kind of short and joke based into something that had more of an arc to it. Just on stage with no cost, really. Film is so expensive, and its really because I’ve built up enough of an audience over the years that someone was willing to take a chance on financing my vision for a film. It’s the very rare company that’s willing to do that.

How has the story evolved over the re-tellings and does this feel like the final stamp on it:

No, I think this is the final stamp. Unless we make Sleepwalk 2. 2 Sleepy. 2 Sleepy 2 Furious. Or Sleepwalk 3D, of course. And the video game, obviously. And the line of pizzas. Pizzas and pizza pillows are of course on the way.

No, I think it’s the final one. It was definitely the hardest. Writing a book is hard, making a movie is unimaginable.

Does the line between reality and story get blurred the more you tell the story:

My life doesn’t have cinematography that good. The color palette in my real life isn’t that interesting. The clothes are better in the movie. I’m not nearly so fashionable.

No, that’s a really interesting question. Everytime I see it, and I watched it last night again, I shudder during the jumping through the window scene. It really makes me cringe, and fortunately the audience as well. There’s a little bit of blurring, but at the same time there’s so many decisions that go into every frame of the film that you just know so well how you got there. I feel like that actually kind of solidifies it. One of the things that struck me when I watched it last night was that we shot it so recently. We shot the movie in August, we wrapped in September, we edited it in October, November, and December. We got into Sundance with a cut of it and now we’re here. So it’s really recent, to the point that I remember the takes. I remember the takes that are on the screen. I don’t think a lot of filmmakers have that. I thinks is all kind of a blur because it was so long ago and they went through so many things. That final scene where I’m talking to the camera and I say I went to visit Abby and she said I didn’t want to hurt you, I remember that take. I remember the parking problems we had. When I pulled in we had to keep going around the block and in that take, I remember driving and remember seeing that there was an intern that had an orange cone and he was running away so I was trying to slow down so he wouldn’t be in the frame. So I’m directing and acting in my head all at the same time. I remember that like it was yesterday and I’m watching it on screen and thinking ‘This is forever’. This memory that I have is as real as going to CVS and picking up a toothbrush. It’s immortalized and that’s such a weird feeling.

Comedy these days is more personal, is your film part of that tradition:

I’ve been doing it for a while. It’s really just an extension of what I’ve been doing. I love Larry David and Louis CK’s work. I think what they’re doing is great. I’d like to think that we’re part of a comedy movement right now that’s moving away from observational comedy into something more personal and real. It’s just one person’s opinion, but it’s what I prefer because I feel it has more heart to it. It has more teeth. I feel like it’s a response to what was the Seinfeldian era or comedy, which was observational to a point of brilliance. Seinfeld did it so well and there were so many mimeographs of that style. At a certain point those mimeographs became so boring. Not only do you see it in stand up comedy, you see it in TV commercials. That’s kind of the ultimate way that you know when something is done. If it’s in a TV commercial, it’s over. I feel like observational comedy is a little bit over right now.

I interviewed Marc Maron on his podcast, and I asked him a question John Mulaney and I had come up with together. ‘What is edgy in an era where nothing is edgy anymore? In an era when everything seems to have been done or said?’ And Marc said being honest. It’s always hard to do. It’s always hard to be honest with an audience, because you’re taking a risk. You’re taking a risk of the audience not liking you. He said, and it’s not paraphrasing, people think it’s edgy to get up and say ‘cunt’ or ‘I fucked your cousin’ or whatever thing that raises peoples tether that are over 60 and are uncomfortable with words. But it’s actually more difficult to just get up and tell your story, and tell it honestly, and admit that you’re kind of wrong about things in a way that’s entertaining. And chances are those first few drafts of that are not entertaining.

And of course this period of comedy will also become watered down and mimeographed and it will become a Doritos commercial and it will be over. We’ll have to figure out some other form of comedy, but for now I think there’s a lot of really great examples like Doug Stanhope and Louis CK.

How did you find your voice as a director, there are some tracking shots that are impressive for a first time director (Mike Birbiglia requested we add this preface – This is a boring answer unless you already love the movie. If you love the movie, this is your question. If not, then don’t read further into this self-indulgent bullshit):

That was actually a funny day when we shot that, because our cinematographer just goes ‘We’re not shooting that’. We had scouted it and we had photo storyboarded the whole film. Our cinematographer was this brilliant guy, Adam Beckman, who had shot This American Life the TV series. Very meticulous, really brilliant. Understanding of light and color. Very meticulous. We had scouted that shot, came up with that shot and we were psyched when we came up with it. The more we thought about it we were like ‘This is going to be awesome’ because it’s going to get across the fact that he’s going to be on the second floor without telling the audience he’s on the second floor.

It’s interesting because it’s telling the story that he’s exhausted, he’s getting pressure from his parents, and he’s on the second floor. So when you come out of the dream your kind of know that in the back of your mind. So we thought it was a really interesting device and we were really excited about it. But then when it came to shooting on the day, the logistics of that shot were so hard. This was a low budget film. We didn’t have the time or resources to shoot that shot.

There’s a moment in that that we actually came up with on the day which is, on the elevator, the guy who is in the towel was a PA on the film. We got on the elevator and realized nothing happens on the elevator. I’m just on the phone. Elevators are boring. We hadn’t accounted for that. So it was me and Jacob and Seth going, ‘Well, what can happen on the elevator?’ I think it was Jacob who said ‘What if there is a guy going to the pool?” So I just said to James ‘Just keep talking to me, just keep trying to talk to me and I’ll blow you off and in ADR we’ll figure out how to choreograph the phone conversation with whatever we improvise.’ So in post we had Carol Kane come in and we did this really involved… basically the other side of that scene, audio wise. It was really time intensive to figure out the choreography of the phone call and that walk at the same time.

That was a really boring answer that is only for people who just love the movie. If you don’t love the movie don’t read this answer. You need a preface to that question. If you love this movie then this is your question, if not, do not read any further into this self indulgent bullshit.

When did you know you had a story worth telling:

The first time I told the actual sleepwalking and jumping out of the window story was at the Just For Laughs festival in Montreal, Canada. I had told it on the road, I was on this Comedy Central Live tour and I had come out with an album called Two Drink Mike and I found that for the first time in my career I showed up to places and people knew my jokes. So I couldn’t tell those jokes anymore. Comedy is not like music, once you’ve heard it you’ve heard it. You’re done. So people were kind of like ‘Alright, what else?’

I had been developing this one man show, Sleepwalk With Me, so I just started telling the stories from the show. I had written them never imagining that they’d be in standup. That was good but I had never done it in front of my peers in the industry at a festival. That’s a whole different thing. At The Just For Laughs festival is this show called Confessing It where you just tell a story you’ve never told in front of people. I told this story and it just killed in this way that was getting monstrous laughs and also was really connecting with the audience. It felt emotional. It felt like an emotional connection with the audience. I came offstage and Doug Stanhope said to me ‘Do you tell that story on stage?’ and I said ‘Yeah, I’m trying to.’ He was like ‘Yeah, that’s your thing. You should tell that. That’s great standup.’ That was a big summer for me. That was the moment I felt I was on to something.

There are four credited screenwriters, how did you keep it in your voice:

That’s because those guys didn’t do anything. You heard it here.

No, I appreciate that. Truthfully, there are four credited screenwriters but I have the document on my computer. I have the master document. I’m making sure that every contribution is fitting into a singular voice. That’s always the case when I’m working with collaborators. I’m always taking their suggestions and ideas and joke pitches and filtering them through what I was writing. It was weird. There’s all these weird WGA rules where we couldn’t write Written and Directed by Mike Birbiglia because there were other writers on it and because it was based on a play. I thought it was weird because I always thought it would say Written and Directed by  and then Screenplay by these people. That was kind of disappointing.

It also wasn’t a formal four person collaboration. It was like, I would work with Joe for a day, then I’d work with Seth for a day, then I’d work for a day with Seth and Joe, then I’d work for a day with Seth and Ira or with Joe and Ira. So it was very fluid and the crediting was weird. We didn’t know how to credit it, honestly. We had to talk to the WGA people and be like ‘How does this work?’ I was like ‘Here’s what happened.’

The action movie genre has been stagnant for quite some time. Sure, we get plenty of “action” movies full of posturing and special effects, but films like Taken or The Losers are lazy, sad excuses for action. We’re far from the golden days of Jackie Chan and John Woo, left with only the occasional Tony Jaa or Jason Statham movie to sate our appetite. Nothing makes this lack of quality more apparent than a movie like The Raid.

The Raid drops like an atomic bomb on the genre, completely destroying the competition. It’s simple and to the point. This is a movie about shooting and punching, and how cool those things are. We don’t get special effects laden video game cutscenes that lack any real thrill. We get real stuntmen doing real stunts, and doing them with an intensity and inventiveness that I haven’t seen since Jackie Chan was in his prime. You’ll absolutely see things here that will make you want to stand up and cheer.

One of the best things about the raid is how direct it is. The plot synopsis is the whole plot. Police officers need to “raid” a criminal owned apartment building. The movie starts as they begin the raid, and ends when the raid is over. There is no build-up, no bullshit. This is nearly two hours of non-stop action.

There is also a fun transition from a guns and explosions film to a martial arts film. The first half of The Raid is all intense firefights and has a frantic warzone feel. As the numbers and ammunition dwindle though, we start getting into the incredible hand to hand fights, all building up to one of the best fights ever committed to screen.

Most of these martial arts displays are courtesy of Iko Uwais, a new face to the action scene and the most exciting thing since Tony Jaa. Unlike Jaa, however, Uwais actually has charisma. You like the guy as a character, not just as a stunt machine.

Uwais is pitted against some of the best villains in recent memory. The main crime lord has a wonderful easy-going confidence with just the right amount of sleaze, and his diminutive henchman proves to be an equal match to Uwais’ fighting skills.

If I was forced to find fault here, I would say that the action peaks a bit too early. While the last half hour or so is a nonstop brawl, the individual moments within fights become less memorable as time goes on. You could also criticize the lack of depth in both the characters and the story, but that would be stupid. Character and depth are not why you are here. You get just enough to know who you are supporting and to possibly care about them enough that you’d want to see what happens in the sequel, of which two are planned.

If director Gareth Evans, who also directed Uwais in the film Merantau, can keep up the same level of insane action for the entire Raid trilogy, action fans have something to be very excited for indeed.

Every year at SXSW there is at least one “secret screening” which becomes a main topic of conversation for all festival goers.The debate and anticipation over what will be shown is almost always more enjoyable than what you end up getting. This year the exciting, and entirely improbable, rumor was that, since Joss Whedon was in town for Cabin in the Woods, we’d be getting The Avengers. People always seem to shoot for the stars with these predictions, even though history has shown that tentpole films NEVER show up in these slots.

This rumor was crushed early, however, as it was leaked that we’d be getting Sinister, an upcoming horror movie from local Aint It Cool critic C. Robert “Massawyrm” Cargill and Exorcism of Emily Rose director Scott Derrickson. So as delusional comic book fans shuffled away to other screenings or cheap drinks, I got in line to see if this critic turned screenwriter could add something new to the haunted house horror genre.

He could not.

Sinister tells the tale of a true crime author, played by Ethan Hawke, chasing the success of one of his early books, a success he’s been unable to repeat. He latches onto a new case of a bizarre family suicide and decides to make that the topic of his next book. He also decides the best way to get a feel for the crime is to move his family, unbeknownst to them, into the house where the event occurred. You can probably take it from here.

The problem with Sinister is not that it’s a bad movie, it’s really not. It’s just exactly what you’d expect from this kind of thing. The scares are telegraphed. The glossy filmmaking takes away from any visceral thrills. The supernatural villain is a bit silly. It’s just unmemorable in every way.

There is potential here for something truly unique and haunting, which makes the blandness all the more disappointing. The opening scene is truly unsettling and promises a different movie than the one you get. The opening shows a super 8 film of the suicide that is to become the subject of our leads next book. It’s shown in full and with minimal music or sound other than the clicking film reel. The method of suicide is different than anything I’ve seen before and I was really hoping that I was in for something not quite like anything I’ve seen before.

These super 8 films, more of which are discovered in the house, play a big role in the film and are all equally unsettling and shown in full. These are easily the best moments of the movie. They add an injection of style and horror that’s absent from the rest of the film, although their impact is lessened as the filmmakers decide to replace the unnerving silence with overwrought music.

The performances are solid and the personal drama of a writer so desperate to re-attain fame and glory that he endangers his family is actually well done. All the elements for something great are here, but they are just used as window dressing.

If you don’t mind the familiar formula and are just looking for an unchallenging horror flick to watch on Netflix with your girlfriend, you could certainly do worse than Sinister. It’s just hard not to pine for the movie it could have been.

It was more than two years ago that I first thought I would get a chance to see Cabin in the Woods. The film, shot in 2009, was rumored to be a secret screening at Fantastic Fest here in Austin. They were even handing out posters, each with phrase poking fun at horror tropes. “If you hear a loud noise outside….have sex.”

Alas, the rumors proved false, but the movie was supposed to come out in a few months anyway. Then MGM went bankrupt and Cabin in the Woods was shelved. A tough blow for the movie, and for the legion of Joss Whedon fans excited to see him and his crew take another shot at a feature length movie. Cut to this past weekend, two years later, where Cabin opened SXSW to near universal praise. I’d say it was worth the wait.

It’s tough to talk about the movie since much of the joy lies in the surprise. The less you know, the better. Unfortunately, the initial trailer, which I managed not to see until after viewing the movie, already gives away slightly too much. I’ll just say that Joss Whedon and Drew Goddard take your standard horror set up of a small group of college kids taking an ill advised vacation to the backwoods, and then proceed to deconstruct and then expand that into something jaw droppingly awesome.

The deconstruction is fun but, despite a unique premise, isn’t something particularly new. Ever since Scream this kind of meta commentary has become commonplace and audiences are well aware of the cliches. The recounting of horror movie rules doesn’t have the same effect as it did a decade ago. Just recently, movies like Behind the Mask and Tucker and Dale have found equally unique ways to cover the same ground. So while that bit is enjoyable, if that’s all Cabin was it wouldn’t have made much of an impact. The expansion, however, is spectacular. Just when you think you know what the movie is, it turns to something else and rides a geek adrenaline high all the way till the end.

Joss and Drew, writer of Cloverfield and many Buffy/Angel episodes, are masters at creating “the moment”. The build up and pay off of set pieces are absolutely perfect. It’s musical in the way everything flows together and builds to a climax. This is a movie where they somehow made the ‘ding’ of an arriving elevator one of the most exciting things you’ve ever seen. It’s impressive.

The cast is a mix of Whedon regulars and new faces, and maybe a surprise appearance or two. Kristin Connolly is perfectly charming and sympathetic as the ‘virgin’ lead. Chris “Thor” Hemsworth takes a backseat in this pre-fame ‘jock’ role and it’s interesting to see him play a college kid after larger than life turns as a god and Kirk’s dad. Richard Jenkins and Bradley Whitford are wonderful and provide the films biggest laughs. The only performance I had an issue with was from Dollhouse co-star Fran Kranz. Fran is the ‘stoner’ of our stereotypical group and is given some of the best lines, but he overplays the “I’m so high, man” thing and is never believable. This is particularly unfortunate since his character is essentially the audience surrogate. He’s the one who speaks for us, just in a silly voice.

Even Kranz is redeemed by the films incredible climax, though. It’s something that must be seen, preferably with a group of like minded friends. It’s a fist pumping, spontaneous clapping, holy shit celebration. During the Q&A, an audience member asked the crew if they knew they were making the last horror movie ever. In some ways that feels accurate, as this takes the genre and blows it sky high. It’ll be interesting to see what future filmmakers make from the rubble.

 South Korea is full of superheroes. That’s the only conclusion one can come to after watching more than a handful of the amazing films the country has been pumping out over the last decade. The protagonists in South Korea films take more punishment than could be withstood by any mere human. They spill blood like the shit is on tap. They are badass.

The Yellow Sea, Hong-jin Na’s follow up to The Chaser, follows two such badasses. One a down on his luck gambling addict in desperate need of money, the other a charismatic criminal in desperate need of having motherfuckers killed. Inevitably, the two meet and a deal is made.

What follows is an epic tale of betrayal and revenge. The film is two and a half hours long and is split into distinct chapters. The second chapter follows our hero, if we can call him that, as he stalks his target and prepares for his kill. The meticulous way in which this is documented was fascinating and proved to be my favorite portion of the film. The segment ends with an incredible footchase around a multistory apartment building.

There are actual several amazing chases in the movie, as well as many, many knife battles. It actually borders on the ridiculous how many knives and hatchets are pulled out during the film, it’s like all the criminals in Korea have decided that guns are for pussies. It’s knives or GTFO. Dozens of bodies are left a bloody mess by the end and it is pretty glorious. And in true Korean tradition, our two leads are continually stabbed and treat it like a minor inconvenience.

It’s good that the action and performances of the two leads are so captivating, because the story becomes kind of a mess towards the end. There are many factions at play and many shifting allegiances. It became a challenge to remember who was who and who they were working for. Fortunately the main character arcs are clear and you can almost ignore the ancillary elements.

So don’t let the length put you off. The Yellow Sea continues the tradition of amazing South Korean filmmaking.

I’ve never seen Elite Squad, and the title “Elite Squad II: The Enemy Within” sounds like a straight to VHS action movie from the 80’s. That being said, I fully intended to skip this one. That is, until I heard that the director, Jose Padilha, was going to direct the Robocop remake based off of his work here. Elite Squad II is also being submitted for Oscar consideration. So, curiosity piqued, I entered the theater.

Elite Squad II is not a cheap action movie, it also doesn’t require you to have seen the previous one in order to understand it. In fact, I believe they are dropping the “2” for the American release. The thing Elite Squad most reminded me of was City of God. A glossier, more mainstream version to be sure, but that’s not necessarily a bad thing.

The film follows two charismatic leads on opposite sides of the spectrum. Wagner Moura plays Colonol Nascimento, a right winger who is in charge of a SWAT-like team called BOPE. Irandhir Santos plays Diogo Fraga, a liberal human rights activist who is married to Nascimento’s ex and is stepfather to Nascimento’s son. These two are not friends. However, they have one thing in common; a desire to rid Brazil of crime and police corruption, of which there is no short supply.

Elite Squad II is a sprawling crime epic. The ever changing criminal landscape plays out in a detailed but clear way that never ceases to engage. Padilha fills the film with plenty of political and social satire, which gives me hope that he will be able to do the same for corporate America in Robocop. My only concern is his capability when it comes to action. There isn’t much action in Elite Squad and what is there, while not bad, is pretty mundane.

I also had some issues with the constant narration, provided by Nascimento. For the most part it is unneeded, and takes away from the realism of the movie. These are minor quibbles, though. Elite Squad II should be appealing to just about anyone. It is easily digestible and entertaining, while never dumbing itself down. A perfect marriage of mainstream blockbuster and art house social commentary.

It was interesting seeing Take Shelter right after Lars Von Trier’s Melancholia, as the two are strikingly similar. Both use the end of the world as a metaphor for mental illness, both feature beautifully rendered dream sequences of the apocolypse, and both are incredible acting showcases.

Take Shelter stars Micheal Shannon as a blue collar husband and father, who just might be going insane. The film opens with one of his dreams, of which there are several peppered throughout the film. An ominous storm brews, oily rain falls, giant flocks of black birds swirl erratically in the air, and friends and loved ones are driven to madness and violence. These haunting scenes will stay with you much like they do with Shannon’s character. The dreams effect his mood, but when the visions creep into his waking hours is when things really go south.

Shannon becomes obsessed with fortifying his family’s storm shelter which puts a major strain on his relationship with his wife, played wonderfully by Tree of Life’s Jessica Chastain. The shelter is an expense that they can’t afford. The current economic climate plays a big part in the film. The camera looms as the price rises on the as pump, job security is called into question, people pinch pennies at a flea market. It is never overt, but financial stress looms over the picture like the apocolyptic storm in Shannon’s dreams.

Despite his own doubts, his mother developed Paranoid Schizophrenia when she was his age, Shannon is compelled to continue. What if the dreams are actually visions? What if the storm comes and he isn’t ready? This confusion and uncertainty burns in Shannon’s eyes. It is a reserved performance, but an intense one. The entire film is an excersize in building tension, and when it is finally released it is as terrifying as it is cathartic.

Take Shelter is a captivating and heartbreaking character study up until the final scene.The scene itself is incredible, but it spins the movie on its head and leaves things on an ambiguous note. I’m still trying to come to terms with it. There is nothing wrong with ambiguous endings, but I feel like this one may betray the more interesting aspects of the film that precedes it.

Despite that, Take Shelter is a must-see. I would be shocked if it didn’t show up around awards season.

Movies like Extraterrestrial are tough to talk about because in order to do so you must spoil them to a certain extent. So that’s exactly what I’m going to do, kind of. I won’t spoil any major plot points. Rather, I’m going to talk about what the movie is, versus what it appears to be. If that’s ok with you, read on. If it’s not, then I’ll just say the movie’s ok. Go see it, I guess.

Extraterrestrial is the latest film from Nacho Vigalondo, the director behind the Fantastic Fest hit Timecrimes and the brilliant short 7:35 in the Morning. The title and marketing of the film would lead you to believe that Vigalondo is giving us his alien invasion movie, a Spanish Signs perhaps. That’s not the case.

Sure, there is a looming spaceship and references to an invasion you never see but that is not the focus of the movie. It, surprisingly and unbelievably, doesn’t appear to be much of a concern for the characters either. Instead we are treated with a screwball comedy about infidelity that takes place almost completely within the confines of a single apartment.

The film opens with Julio, played by Julian Villagran, waking up in an unfamiliar bed after a night of drinking. The bed belongs to Julia, played by Michelle Jenner, a remarkably beautiful woman with a nice apartment. Things seem to be going pretty good for Julio, that is until he realizes that the city has been evacuated due to the appearance of multiple UFO’s while they were sleeping. Oh, and Julia’s husband is on his way home.

The alien invasion is used as an excuse to keep these characters together and as a distraction Julio and Julia can use to cover up their actions. It could have been anything really. Over the course of the film, the title of the film begins to change meanings. The invaders aren’t really the aliens, it’s Julio. Or, rather, any person or event that shows up out of nowhere to disrupt your life. This little trick almost justifies what otherwise seems like a decision to get more attention for what is a fairly run of the mill comedy.

There are some charming performances from all the actors and it’s certainly enjoyable as it goes on, but at the end of the day it feels too small. It won’t likely stay with you after it’s over, which is unfortunate because I believe Nacho has the potential to make a great movie. Many loved Timecrimes but I had similar problems with that one. It’s not as clever as it believes it is and doesn’t have much to say. 7:35 in the Morning still remains his best attempt at blending high concept genre ideas with comedy, and that is because it has more heart. It has something to say and does so in a relatable, if ridiculous, way. Despite not actually featuring one, Extraterrestrial is just too alien.

The big opening night film of the Fest this year was the sequel the relatively successful cult horror film Human Centipede. This is not terribly surprising given that the original was a huge hit at the festival two years ago and went on to receive tons of attention in mainstream media, even being parodied on South Park. The problem is, The Human Centipede is a piece of shit movie.

It reminds me of Snakes on a Plane. The premise and title were so ridiculous and yet somehow perfect. How has this thing not already existed? The mind races with possibility and the Internet explodes with all of the wonderful moments that will surely await. This is a concept that cannot fail, but it does. And how could it not? How could we have been so stupid? If a film is a slave to a concept or a single joke, there is no way it can break away from that to create something truly memorable. When the entire world has spent months creating a better story, better jokes, and better set pieces than the filmmaker could ever live up to, disappointment is the only outcome.

The plot of Human Centipede is as follows: guy wants to create a human centipede, guy creates a human centipede. That is not a story, there is nothing there. Everything you could get out of the film, you already got the moment you heard the title. What’s left is a somewhat charismatic villain staring at his creation for an hour. It was boring.

So, how do you follow that up? How do you revive a concept that’s already been beaten dead? If you are director Tom Six, you don’t. Human Centipede 2 fails in the same way as the first. There is no story apart from “dude wants to create a human centipede, dude creates a human centipede.” Six seems to be under the illusion that the concept itself is still interesting and shocking, still enough to justify a feature. It’s not. It’s over.

I do give him credit for some things though. First, he finds a clever way of connecting the two films. I won’t ruin it as it’s one of the few joys of the movie. He also completely changes the style for this sequel. The first was rendered in bright colors and clinical detail. The sequel is black and white. It’s dirty. Where the first one never actually showed anything too graphic, this one pushes the envelope at all turns. If this kind of shock cinema is enough for you in and of itself, then maybe you won’t be as bored as I was.

Six was on hand to talk about the film and he revealed his plans for a third and final film. It’s strange to me how invested he is in this idea, how much he believes it to be noteworthy and relevant. It’s not just him cashing in on a surprise success either. I talked with him two years ago when he revealed the first film and he was already excitedly talking about the sequel, and the movie I saw was exactly the movie he described. This is his grand artistic statement, and it is as shallow and empty as a work of art can be. It’s a bit tragic.

Lars Von Trier is one of the most interesting directors working today. I look forward to, and usually love, everything he does. With that in mind, Melancholia was my most anticipated film at Fantastic Fest. Did it live up to expectations? For the most part, yes.

The simple synopsis would say Melancholia is about the end of the world. A gigantic rogue planet is traveling through our solar system and seems to be on a collision course with Earth. This planet is given the name Melancholia. It is an inescapable blue giant, moving almost imperceptibly closer by the minute. The name and coloring of the planet are important, if not exactly subtle, clues about the films true subject, depression.

Melancholia is split into three parts. There is a short prologue which, much like Von Trier’s previous film Antichrist, uses beautiful slow motion to set up the movie. In this case, those images are of the end of all things. It’s a haunting opening. The film then switches to a much more naturalistic style for the remaining two parts. The two parts are each roughly an hour long and are dedicated to two sisters, played by Kirsten Dunst and Charlotte Gainsbourg.

The first part follows Dunst on the night of her wedding, held at a lavish estate among the super upper class. The celebration is short lived, however. It is evident early on that not all is right with Dunst. On a night that should be magical, she becomes increasingly withdrawn. The more she is told to be happy, the more sad she appears. It becomes apparent that she suffers from a crippling case of depression, and the results are inevitable. Unavoidable, much like the new star that has appeared in the sky.

This portion of the film plays out like a minimalist slice of life. It actually reminded me quite strongly of Rachel Getting Married and, much like Anne Hathaway did in that film, Dunst gives a career defining performance. It’s made more impressive by how reserved she is. There are no over the top outbursts or monologues, just the slow decay of a woman who has tried and failed for the last time to find peace and happiness.

The last section of the film focuses on Gainsbourg. Here the tone of the film shifts as the large ensemble cast is paired down to just four. Gainsbourg and Kiefer Sutherland, playing her husband, are left to care for Dunst, which is causing a strain on their family. Of greater concern here, though, is the approaching planet of Melancholia. Sutherland believes that the planet will pass by and be nothing more than a spectacular show he hopes to share with their son. This is of little comfort to Gainsbourg, who can’t help but be drawn in by those saying this is doomsday.

The tension slowly builds during this section and becomes almost unbearable before the conclusion, which is spectacular.

I didn’t love everything about the movie, though. Von Trier has developed into one of the most refined visualist in film but seems to have sacrificed the blunt conciseness of his earlier films in favor of the abstract. This was more apparent in Antichrist, which is impenetrable at times, but is evident here as well. Sure, the central metaphor of Melancholia is clear and comes from the director’s own experiences with depression, but I don’t believe enough is done to really tie that into the events of the film. The visual splendor of the finale is really the only thing saving it from being somewhat of a dud. A clear thematic and emotional connection just isn’t made.

That being said, this is definitely not one to miss. The performances are stellar across the board, and the visuals are gorgeous and unforgettable. If more had been done to flesh out the thin metaphor, this would be in contention for my film of the year.

Kevin Smith. Just the name alone elicits a pretty strong reaction from just about every film fan. Smith himself says the easiest way to start an argument with movie geeks is to just bring him up in conversation. This fact often means that the conversation about the man himself often overshadows the films he makes. They have increasingly seemed like afterthoughts. Especially since he has embraced the internet with Twitter and Smodcast and is constantly on tour with his speaking engagements. Kevin Smith is an institution. You are no longer buying a ticket for a Kevin Smith film, you are buying a ticket for a person.
 
This isn’t all that surprising since Smith gained notoriety for seeming like one of us. He spoke our language and was incredibly open whereas other entertainers stay at arms length. We liked him, even when he made it hard by putting out stuff like Cop Out, or whining about being kicked off an airplane way past the point where sympathy was an option.
 
So, what do you do when you’ve risen past the thing that made you famous? When you become your own product? Well, according to Kevin Smith, you quit. Smith has made the announcement that Red State and his upcoming Hit Somebody will be his last two films, and he wants to go out with a bang. He wants to bow out as a director that no one has to make apologies for, and you know what? He succeeds.

Red State would have been an incredibly strong statement coming from anyone, but from Smith, who has been perfectly content making “Kevin Smith” films up to this point, it’s an absolute revelation. This isn’t a slacker comedy for the pop culture obsessed. Isn’t some visually lacking excuse for crude monologues about Star Wars and pussy. Red State completely subverts everything you expect from Smith. It’s dark, confident, ballsy, uncomfortable, violent, thrilling, and never becomes a simple minded message movie.

For those not already aware, the film revolves around an extremist Christian cult (loosely based on the Westboro Baptist Church) who come into conflict with the law after a kidnapping of some morally vacant high school kids goes awry. Smith has been referring to this film as a horror movie for years now, but that’s a bit misleading. It’s scary, but it’s scary in the way watching ‘Jesus Camp’ is scary. Scary in the way watching the raid of the Branch Davidian Compound was scary. It’s more action drama than slasher. More morality play than torture porn.

That’s not to say there are no laughs here. In fact, the movie is quite funny. Most the time, this humor is a welcome bit of tension relief. Oftentimes it works by allowing a character in the film to say the thing the audience desperately wants to. However, if I had to lobby a complaint, I would say there are times where the humor just comes off as odd. There are certainly moments of tonal imbalance. Moments where tension relief is the exact opposite of what we need. Those moments are rare, though.

Michael Parks plays the leader of the cult and absolutely owns the screen every time he is on. He has a long monologue/sermon (probably ten to fifteen minutes) early on in the film that seems like it would try an audience’s patience, but he is so captivating and the speech sets the tone so well that you are never looking at your watch. Recent Oscar winner Melissa Leo also shows up as a cult member and continues doing crazy high strung old lady as well as anyone. John Goodman, despite his age and heft, manages to pull off a tough as nails ATF field operative faced with an impossible moral dilemma. The acting all around is incredibly strong. So much so that, if not for the unconventional distribution and resulting burned bridges, I could see this being recognized around award season.

Speaking of distribution, it’s cool to see a director blaze his own path and completely go against the established way of things (Smith claimed at the screening that Red State will be profitable before it ever hits a conventional cinema) but it’s unfortunate that once again the story is about Smith and not about the movie. This is a movie that deserves to stand on it’s own and speak for itself but it’s destined to be viewed as business experiment.

In the post-film Q&A, Smith blatantly said that this was his art film. He didn’t get into movies to just make comedies, but that’s what happened. That’s the outlet that worked for the stories he wanted to tell, but now that he’s bowing out of the filmmaking game he wanted to make the kind of movies that inspired him in the first place.  To prove to himself, as much as his audience, that he could. It’s almost sad that he succeeded since this is the kind of thing that hints at greatness to come.

We’ll get one more chance to see what else Smith has up his sleeve when he makes Hit Somebody, the hockey film that will be his last. Smith dropped a few hints about that movie at the screening, saying that it will be better than anything he’s ever done. The movie is a period piece covering one man’s hockey career from 1950 to 1980 and, if Smith has his way, will feature pretty much everyone he has ever worked with (including Tracy Morgan as, wait for it, Muhammad Ali).

Smith also made it clear that he is not done telling stories, he was born to tell stories, he’s just done doing so in film. He says he was never meant to be a filmmaker, that part just kind of happened. He plans to put most of his energy into the Smodcast network, since it allows him to tell stories in an unfiltered way and without the financial hassle. The big news was that he plans to continue the universe he created in this new medium, even saying he plans to get Ben Affleck and Joey Lauren Adams to come and do a one hour Chasing Amy reunion as a radio play.

He also detailed his plans for going into film distribution, an idea that was planted in his head at the 1997 SXSW film festival by Quentin Tarantino. He wants to give young filmmakers the same chance that he once had. Smith’s distribution company will specialize in films that everyone else has passed on. Filmmakers will have to present evidence that they have been turned out by all other distributers for Smith to consider them.

So, just as Smith reinvented himself as a filmmaker with Red State, he is heading into uncharted territory as a business man and content creator. It will be interesting to see how all of this turns out. I’m excited, which is something I haven’t felt about Kevin Smith for a long time.

Red State has several more showings as part of the current tour and will have a limited theatrical release later this year. There will likely be some kind of video on demand deal as well. However you are able to see it, just see it.

 

One of the best films I saw at SXSW this year was James Gunn’s ultra-violent take on the super hero origin story. Super covers much of the same ground that last year’s Kick Ass did, but is much more successful in my opinion. You’ve already heard Jonathan raving about this one, so take our word for it and see it as soon as you can.

 

I got to sit down with a few other journalists to talk to James about the film. We had a lengthy conversation which you can find below. I’ve removed some of the more overtly spoilerish bits and have highlighted my own questions in case you just came here to listen to what I say. I don’t blame you. I’m fascinating.

 

 

Q: Slither is about a husband who becomes the ultimate stalker. Now we have another movie about a husband who stalks his wife. Is this a theme? What appeals to you about that?
 
A: I don’t know. I never thought about it. Nobody ever brought it up before. They’re both about marriages gone wrong, and I definitely have a lot of commitment issues myself. I suppose that works in there somewhere. Frank seems like a stalker, but I’m not sure he necessarily is. Grant in Slither is definitely an extra terrestrial stalker but it’s on a much bigger level. So, who knows…
 
Q: There’s a lot of entries into that self reflective comic book scene now. Things like Kick Ass or Special. Were you aware of that or wary of that?
 
A: I was aware of it because I wrote my script in 2002, so it was around before all those things. The first thing I heard about was Special, because Special was written after that. My movie was out there and we actually had financing through a different company at that time. I heard of Kick Ass through Mark Millar who is an online friend of mine. We’ve been email buddies for a long time. He wrote me like, “Hey, what are you doing?” and I was like “I’m getting this movie made called Super” back in 2004. He’s like, “What is it?” and I’m like “blah blah blah”, I told him what it was and he’s like, “Oh fuck, I’m writing a comic book that’s kind of like that”. I was definitely wary of it. It’s like “This sucks. Kick Ass is being made into a movie. Is that gonna mean that we’re irrelevant?” But in the end, the stories are so different. Our story is about a guy who is on his own spiritual quest and he just happens to wear a superhero costume during it. Really the story could be told without the superhero costume. It’s just gravy and frankly it probably helps the movie get more attention than it probably would otherwise. It really is about the guy and not the costume.

Q: Where did the concept come from? Are you a big comic book fan?

A: I’m a huge comic book fan, to this day. I’ve read comic books ever since I was a kid and I still read almost every comic that comes out. I love comic books. I’m enamored of super heroes, I’m interested in how that interplays with our own lives. I think Super is a lot about pop culture. We view superheroes or celebrity or whatever as being a part of that pop culture world. It’s something beyond us that we’re not a part of. This is about a guy that tried to enter that other world that’s so impossible. With some degree of success.

Q: You said you wrote the script in 2002, why did it take so long to get into production?

A: There’s a number of things. Number one: in 2004, I had Chuck Roven producing the script that did the Dark Knight movies and Scooby Doo movies. It was a little esoteric. They wanted me to cut back on the violence a lot. That was a little bit difficult. But the biggest thing is, there was this company that was financing it and there was a list of people that could play the role that they would ok to green light the movie. There was a lot of actors that wanted to play the role, but the only person I could see playing the role at the time was John C. Reilly. But he wasn’t considered a big enough star at the time to get the movie made. So I couldn’t agree on an actor. So we were still going to make the movie, basically, but we hadn’t gotten to the point where we could cast the right actor. I needed somebody that could do the comedy, that could do the drama, that was big enough that he was physically threatening, but was also goofy enough that he could be picked on by his fellow short order cook at the diner. It was hard to find somebody like that. At that time I wrote the movie Slither, which I was going to sell and just make a few bucks so that I could go off and make this movie for no money. I went out with Slither on a Thursday night and on Friday morning Paul Brooks, who was producing it, called up and said “Yeah, I want to green light the movie and I want you to direct it” and I was like “Ok”. So that’s what I did, and that put a hold on things for a while. And after Slither I wasn’t even sure if I was ever going to direct another movie again. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to. I wasn’t sure if it was worth it to me. I started doing web stuff because it was a lot more simple. It’s hard making a movie, man. It’s like, you just lose your life. Really. I like being alive. I like having friends and I like going out and I like watching other people’s movies and all these things I can’t do for a year while I make a movie. Then it comes out and it’s like, “So what.” People love it, but I don’t care. I don’t get any joy out of you liking my movie. That’s not true exactly. I like when people like my movie. But it’s like as a kid growing up I was like, “Man, I REALLY want to make movies and have everybody love me and have people like my movies and go to film festivals and be interviews by a bunch of people at a table.” but none of it brings me any joy. Not in real life. It just doesn’t. I like making the movies, sometimes, but it’s also hellish to make a movie. So I’m a very confused individual. It really wasn’t until my ex-wife, Jenna Fischer, called me up one day. We’re still very very good friends. She said, “What are you doing with Super? Why aren’t you making that movie? I really love that script. That’s my favorite script you’ve written and I really want you to make that movie.” I said, “I don’t know. It’s a little esoteric. It’s weird. My manager doesn’t want me to make it. I’m not sure.” And she said, “Well, have you ever thought of Rainn as Frank?” I had known Rainn for five years and we had always gotten along well. We had a comraderie, and it was like, “Wow, that works.” From that moment forward I felt sort of called to make the movie. I had my heart in it and it made all the difference from other things I’ve done in the past because I feel really good about the movie. I would love for other people to love it, but if they don’t that’s ok too. It was a great experience, and having those other actors put themselves into the movie so completely for literally no money. I mean, Liv Tyler got paid seven thousand dollars or something to do this movie. For them to do all of that for me and for this project was a really great experience. Them and also people like Steve Gainer the cinematographer, we had a real connection on set and he understood exactly what I wanted. We worked together perfectly. Tyler Baits did the score, he did the score for my other movies, he’s a great partner. It was a really good experience.

Q: He calls himself the Crimson Bolt and he walks around with a pipe wrench. I’m curious what inspired you to include those elements?

A: I don’t know where the Crimson Bolt came from. It was just the first name I thought of. I remember in my first draft that I wrote, he went through different names of what he was going to call himself and somehow he arrived at Crimson Bolt. One reason it’s helpful was that I did make another super hero movie a long time ago called The Specials and it’s very difficult to find super hero names that aren’t already claimed. Our main characters in The Specials all had different names when we went to get the copyright. There is a character named Mock that was originally named Exile, but there already is an Exile. The Strobe was originally Laser Man. I had to change all their names. So probably something that influenced me was that I had to come up with a name I didn’t think another super hero was named. I kind of just went with it. Also, Frank’s not the most eloquent guy in the world so he’s not gonna come up with the greatest name. The pipe wrench is simply something I would not want to be hit with.

Q: The thing that struck me about Super was that it is really dark and fucked up but it is also a really optimistic film. It actually kind of does believe in the possibility of changing the world.

A: I think one of the things that drives me in telling stories or in art in general is finding the beautiful in this big mass of ugly. So much of people, especially when you live in Hollywood, is really ugly stuff. I guess I am an optimist in a pessimist brain, if that makes any sense. I believe in people. I believe in the innate goodness of most people in this world and yet I am a damaged soul like a lot of other people. I have my own demons and things I struggle with, so I can’t be told that life is beautiful through a normal positive thinking book or through a hallmark movie. That doesn’t work for me. The language that works for me is the language of fucked up cinema and literature and comic books and things like that. To find the beauty I really need to go through a darker channel than most people. I think there are a lot of people like that.

Q: There is some really frank violence in the movie, but I was laughing my ass off. Do you want the audience to laugh?

A: Here’s the thing about Super, that’s the fun of the movie. When he’s saying his prayer at the beginning of the movie, that’s one where it’s always a weird audience. That’s maybe my favorite scene in the movie. It’s so so so sad and so funny at the same time. There’s always people laughing, but then other people get mad at the people laughing. That’s exactly what that scene is intended to be. It’s intended to be all those things mixed up together. You can laugh at it or you can feel sad. That’s up to you.

Q: So the drama can be either way, but is it the same with the violence? Like when he’s bashing someones head against a fireplace, are you laughing when you write that or just thinking this is a great way to kill somebody?

A: I think he goes a little far in that and there is something humorous in the fact that he just keeps smashing his skull after the guy is obviously dead. He’s gone pretty far. I guess there’s a funny element to it but it’s also really sad. I feel like that moment is another moment where you are watching the Crimson Bolt inflict violence on somebody, like the moment with the guy in line, where you’re going, “I guess that’s alright.” I don’t know. That’s my reaction to it but I don’t know if that’s laughing, exactly.

Q: You mentioned one of the difficulties in getting this made was your producer or whoever saying you might want to tone it back a little bit. It’s a little bit strange or a little bit too violent. Is there anything that you really wanted to get in this movie that you really had to scale back on or did you just go all out?

A: All out. I stupidly tricked the producers. At the beginning I said, “Look, the people are going to like this movie because it is extreme or their not going to like it. So if we start pulling back on things that are extreme that just means we are pulling back on what some people are going to like about it and we are going to make it a nothing movie.” So I tricked them. They went with that and I got to do whatever I wanted, basically. And honestly, I had this cast behind me that was all signed on because of the script and who were doing it because of me. I did this movie for nothing. We were all doing this movie for nothing. The reason we are doing it is because we want to make the movie the way we want to make it. To make a movie for a couple million dollars with that kind of talent attached is a rare thing.

Q: Frank’s hallucinations or visions are really cool stylistically. I was wondering what inspired them.

A: I had the finger of God touch my brain one time. You think I’m kidding, but I’m not. So that’s what that was inspired by. The tentacles didn’t happen but the finger of God came through the roof and touched my brain. That part is real. I really like the mix of the spiritual and the visceral. In the script it even says “Cronenbergian”. I really like that mix. It’s something I’m interested in. There’s a book called “The Varieties of Religious Experience” written by William James in 1904 which is about people who have religious experiences. A lot of religious leaders had these spiritual awakenings. Is it something from a problem in your brain? Whatever that is, I have it because I’ve had visions since I was a kid. I think that’s a big part of what the movie is about.

Q: Was it hard taking actors like Rainn Wilson and Ellen Page, who throughout their career have pretty well defined themselves to the point that you know what to expect, and subverting what we expect from both of them? Was that a difficult thing to do and was that one of the reasons you wanted to cast them?

A: It wasn’t why I wanted to cast them but it was something I was wary of from the beginning. Rainn said to me from the very beginning, he said, “Listen, if I do something that’s a Dwight-ism just pull me aside and tell me I’m doing something Dwight-ish.” There were two times on the movie where I said that was Dwight. He can fall into it very easily. He’s been playing that character for a long time. The main thing for Rainn was to have a sense of vulnerability there because Dwight maybe has a sense of vulnerability because he’s an idiot but he’s not really a vulnerable character at all. He does everything not to be vulnerable, whereas Frank is a very vulnerable guy. To really bring out that vulnerability was the important thing for him. With Ellen, from the beginning, the reason she was attracted to the script was, she said to me, “For years I’ve been asked to play these characters who are wise beyond their years. These snarky teenage girls who say all these little things to one up all the adults around her and this character is the exact opposite. She’s a twenty two year old with the maturity of an eleven year old. She’s completely wrong in every way, and fucked up and says whatever is on her brain.” It’s a much different character. An immature character. So that’s what Ellen brought to it. This energy and crazy madness when she is usually much more low key. Yeah, I was very aware of who they are and I think for them as actors it’s important for them to create other sorts of archetypal characters who are no the characters they are associated with.

Q: Another great performance was from Nathan Fillion. How easy was it for him to come on board?

A: It was easy. Nathan is my good buddy, we hang out a lot. Nathan would just do whatever I asked, he’s my good pal. I thought he would be perfect for it. I think when I first wrote the script I thought it would be good for Bruce Campbell.

Q: I don’t know if he could do the long hair…

A: The long hair was Nathan’s idea. He came in and we fit him for the costume, and that costume cost more than the other costumes because it’s actually kind of a real super hero costume with the fake muscles, and he says, “You know, I think it would be great if I had some long Jesus hair.” Nathan’s funny, I love working with Nathan. I love working with these people who are my friends because it’s hard making a movie and to have people like Nathan and Michael Rooker around, these guys that I’ve been friends with for a while, it’s really nice. Nathan always, whether it’s in Slither or PG Porn, he always brings something beyond what I expect to the role. He always goes above and beyond the call of duty. He really is one of the greatest film actors around and it was great to work with him.

Q: We talked a little bit about the mixture of comedy and pathos, but it also struck me that this is an IFC film but also has that Troma aesthetic.

A: I think of it as an arthouse head on a grindhouse body.
Q: Were you nervous about bringing those things together? Was that always in the script or did it come out in rehearsals?

A: That was always in the script. I didn’t rehearse the movie at all. We didn’t have the budget for that. That was always a part of it. To have real people in these situations that have exploitation elements. I wanted to keep things real and grounded and have that element there. In Troma movies, and Lloyd would admit this, the acting is usually pretty atrocious. In Tromeo and Juliet, when I was doing that movie, I tried to write for bad actors so that the bad acting would actually be a part of what we enjoyed in the movie. In Super I didn’t want to deal with bad actors. I wanted to have the performances really good. I think it works.

Q: Did starting off in Troma help you to be able to do things very quickly?

A: There’s no doubt. Troma taught me everything about that. It taught me how to think where one side I have a director side of my brain and one side I have a producer side of my brain. The producer side doesn’t fight the director side, it helps the director side of my brain. If I was doing things just as a director, I would lose shots because I’d be so focused on getting the one scene the way I want it to be. I would take too long in the day and not get what I wanted. I had to, through the experience of making movies now for a number of years, learn how long it takes for me to do something so I can take less time on things that are less important and take more time on the things that are more important. I need to give the actors room to breathe at times. That needed to happen. I needed those guys to do a good performance. I needed Rainn to do a good performance on the prayer. I needed to give some of those things more time. I needed the right amount of time to get all the shots I needed for the end of the movie with all the gunfire. There’s a lot of shots in comparison to the rest of the movie. I had to give the appropriate amount of time and if I just relied upon an AD or a line producer to schedule that time, it’s gonna go all wrong. It really has to be me that does that because only I know what the movie is.


 

I feel sorry for The Beaver. I mean, the movie was already a tough sell. Here you’ve got a story about a suicidal manic depressive whose life has gone to shit who finds a way of coping with his mental illness by creating an alternate personality in the form of a beaver hand puppet. You’ve got this odd mix of a super dark story with an oddball comic premise, yet it’s all directed in a conventional, if somewhat whimsical, style. It’s a tonal mess that was already going to have a hard time finding an audience. But you know what, it had an incredibly buzzed about script and managed to snag the long inactive Mel Gibson as its lead. Perhaps there is light at the end of this tunnel.

Unfortunately a few punched wives and drunken racist rants later, things seem pretty dire.

The Beaver premiered two nights ago here at the South By Southwest film festival after being put on the shelf following the most recent Mel Gibson controversy and the excitement was palpable. Partially because this script has been talked about for years and now we were finally able to see it, but mostly because Mel Gibson is a crazy person and this seemed like an apt movie to demonstrate that.

The thing people forgot, and will hopefully be reminded of now, is that Mel Gibson is also a great actor with incredible screen presence, and The Beaver gives him ample opportunity to showcase his skills. This is truly a wonderful performance and certainly would have been a comeback film for Mel had he not gone off the deep end.

I had the opportunity to sit down with Jodie Foster, Anton Yelchin, and writer Kyle Killen to talk about the film. Yelchin was quick to defend his co-star, stating, “It’s just a pity that Mel had to go through all this because I think his performance is so great and I think it would really be a shame if people could not overcome however they feel about his personal life and see his performance for what it really is.” Yelchin went on to say, “An actor’s job is to act, not to live out their personal life for millions of people. It’s just to go to set and do what he did, which is to give a great performance. I really think it’s a pity. Whatever people think about him as a human being, at the end of the day it’s not really any of our business.”

The film makes it particularly hard to forget Mel Gibson, the person, though. There is a striking parallel between the character, Walter, and the actor. Walter is an alcoholic depressive prone to bouts of violence, sometimes directed at his family, and is certainly a bit delusional. I personally found these parallels to be strengths, and believe they add weight to the character. However, they  are more than a little distracting.

Another hurdle audiences will have to jump is the fact that there are actually very few moments where Gibson is acting outside of his Beaver character, complete with an accent that is uncannily similar to Ray Winstone.

When asked if it was hard to act against Mel, given this strange method, Yelchin said, “Not really for me, because Porter doesn’t even acknowledge the puppet. He just ignores it. He comes in and sees it, and I think more than anything, to add insult to injury, not only has his father removed himself from his life and is this force that makes him doubt his own sanity, now he’s replaced his own family with a talking beaver. So I think there is some level of hurt that comes with having to deal with that. But he just ignores it, so for me I was just acting with Mel or with Jodie. The Beaver was just a toy to me.”

Director and star Jodie Foster had little to say about Mel, personally, but it’s clear that the emotional crisis of the film is something that attracted her as an artist. “I make personal movies about people in significant spiritual crisis and how they evolve through those crisis to become, hopefully, more whole. So things that are perceived as a handicap become strengths. That seems to be what I do. Loneliness is a big feature of all of my movies. I’m sure it’s my way of communicating my life and who I am,” she said. “The loneliness and themes about solitary characters who are misfits, that don’t fit in, and are trying through this moment of crisis to figure out how they want to live. How do I live? In some ways, when they get through it they realize that they are not alone and there are other people who are misfits too and that’s where they belong. That’s a big theme in all my films. I’m sure it has a lot to do with my tragic childhood.”

As you can probably tell, despite what the trailers may indicate, The Beaver is a drama first and a comedy second. I think it does an admirable job of rising past its gimmicky conceit and being genuinely touching, if a bit cliche in the end. However, this tonal imbalance may turn off some viewers and was a concern from the inception of the story.

“It has a unique tone to it, an odd tone to it, a quirky tone to it. I think it’s been quite a challenge for them to figure out how to tell people what it is. It does have a lightness to it, it does have a quirkiness to it,” says Foster. Writer Kyle Killen added, “What makes it palatable I think is that it has some light and enjoyable moments and it lets you look at this guys very real problem of depression through a lens that, fun is the wrong word, but if I tell you that I have a really gritty painful movie about a guy that is deeply depressed it’s harder to get people interested in that. I think, in a way, the device and the comic layer on top of it lets you get away with putting some very real and hard to watch stuff in there.”

Given the odd tone of the film, it’s a small miracle it was made at all. Killen details the long journey from script to film, “My wife got pregnant and we quickly discovered that she was pregnant with twins and we basically agreed that I had nine months to demonstrate that I could make money by writing or I needed to get a job that would do something more for the two mouths we were about to have to feed. This was a short story. I had written some short stories and someone had contacted me about doing a collection and they told me I just needed a long short story to finish the collection. So I started this as a long short story which then blossomed into a novel. It blossomed into hundreds of pages of insanity. Like Matt Lauer was a major character in the book. The Vice President was a very major character in the book, who was obsessed with her own bowel movements. It was a really out there thing.” He said, “I realized that that could spin on forever and the timeline was ticking down, so I decided I could make it a screenplay because those are like 120 pages and that would be really fast. It wasn’t, but I think the discipline helped cut out a lot of the crazy. To some extent. I turned it in a week before we had the twins and Steve Golin, the producer, bought it a week later. It went from being a desperation thing to demonstrate that I could write to quickly exceeding my wildest expectations. Various people were interested in playing the parts and it was getting read everywhere and then the black list came along. It went from just years of outgoing phone calls and random jobs doing crazy things to suddenly incoming phone calls. I’ve been lucky enough to be dining out on it ever since.”

It’s unfortunate that Killen’s success and the hard work of the filmmakers will likely be affected greatly by one person’s personal meltdown, but that’s one of the dangers of this kind of business. I certainly think you should take a chance on The Beaver. It’s not a perfect film but it is unique, touching at times, and features a dynamic performance from one of our last genuine movie stars.

The screening was a huge success, but as Foster points out, “Well you have to remember that it is a festival audience and people are really nice at festivals. That’s what I love. Especially at indie festivals. They definitely want to embrace and celebrate other people’s first times out and they don’t want to bring people down. It’s so nice. It’s what I love about Sundance as well. It’s not a bunch of monsters out there trying to eat you.”

Sadly, the real world isn’t so kind.

The career of Ti West has been an interesting one so far. He’s a director who has never made anything resembling a hit movie yet has managed to churn out five films in almost as many years. His movies garner a fair amount of buzz at festivals and he’s earned the respect of many film journalists, yet he hasn’t broken into the mainstream, or even really made a great movie.

I think the love Ti West receives is due to the fact that you can feel the love of genre film in his flicks. This dude is knowledgeable and passionate about horror and that can be infectious. He also has always shown a great deal of promise despite, in my opinion, falling short of his aspirations.

I was there for the premiere of his first film, The Roost, at SXSW years ago and while I thought the movie was a fun but insubstantial romp filled with meta narratives and fourth wall breaking stunts, it was Ti himself that won me over. Here was a kid who just loved what he was doing and was completely unpretentious about it. I’ve followed him ever since and enjoyed watching him grow but have been waiting for him to truly wow me. Even his recent House of the Devil, which earned him the most critical respect of his career, was a close but no cigar experience for me. He certainly nailed the aesthetic and feel of a late 70’s/early 80’s straight to video horror film, but he didn’t deliver a story worth caring about.

So it was with great excitement and trepidation that I stepped into the gorgeous Paramount theater in Austin to check out his latest, The Innkeepers, at SXSW. What’s the verdict?

He fucking nailed it.

The Innkeepers, so far, is my favorite film out of what has been a surprisingly strong lineup here. In this ghost story about two friends manning a mostly empty, and reportedly haunted, hotel during its last days of operation, Ti has managed to retain the slow burn classic feel of House of Devil while adding the levity of The Roost. His love for the horror genre oozes out of every pore here, evoking films like Poltergeist and The Shining without ever feeling like he’s winking at the audience too much. Every set-up has a wonderful payoff. Every moment, whether they be comedic or horrific, lands perfectly and had the audience of 1000+ laughing and screaming at all the right moments.

I particularly admire the fact that the film never devolves into simple jump scares or frenetic editing. It takes its time and builds up an almost unbearable amount of tension which is far more effective than a loud music jolt will ever be. The only jump scares in the movie come during a wonderful joke and callback that I won’t ruin here.

Another wonderful thing West has brought over from House of the Devil is an incredibly well realized female lead, played perfectly by Sara Paxton. This girl feels real. She’s your best friend that you’ve always secretly had a crush on. She’s also incredibly vulnerable without ever being made out to be an idiot. Instead of reacting to the situation with the screams and cries of modern torture porn she reacts with wide eyed wonder of early Steven Spielberg films. And when she is put in danger, you really feel for her. You genuinely don’t want harm to befall her, which is a wonderful breath of fresh air in a genre where most the joy is usually derived from watching your horrible protagonists suffer and die.

Pat Healy also turns in a great performance as her older cynical workmate/friend. Their relationship is the backbone of this film and their playful interaction gives the film the heart and comic relief it desperately needs.

I’ve gone on about this enough, so I’ll just say this is the kind of film that makes you remember why you love the genre. It’s a shining beacon in the dark horrible landscape of shitty modern horror. I can’t wait to see what Ti West does next, and I hope he inspires other filmmakers to follow in his footsteps.

 

One of the highlights of the fest for me was the chance to sit down with acclaimed director Mark Romanek to talk about his film, Never Let Me Go. Romanek has long been one of my favorite commercial and music video directors, having directed such classics as Nine Inch Nails’ “Closer”, Michael Jackson’s “Scream”, and Jay Z’s “99 Problems”. I found Romanek to be surprisingly soft spoken given his demanding reputation, and he was more contemplative than anyone I’ve interviewed before. I found the conversation very interesting and am including here in its entirety. If you don’t feel like reading the whole thing and just want to skip to my questions, I’ve made them bold.

Amy Curtis (examiner.com): What struck me most was the docility of the clones and how they never really fought the man, or tried to run away or fight the system. I just wanted to get your thoughts on that.

Mark Romanek: Do you think that they should have? What was your feeling about it?

Curtis: Well we all sympathize with them, so yeah I want to see them run away. Escape and do something to break the cycle.

Romanek: Why do you think that they didn’t?

Curtis: There was some kind of gentleness in them. An acceptance that that was their fate. Maybe they thought that was their purpose, so they had accepted it. But as someone who sympathizes with them and doesn’t want to see them hurt and suffering, you know, you want to see them escape.

Romanek: You know, if you ask Ishigura about this, and he is very much more eloquent than I am, he’d tell you it just wasn’t the story he wanted to write. He’s much more fascinated in his whole body of work, not just this book, in the ways that people tend not to run and rather accept their lot in life. I think he thinks it’s a more authentic idea of the way people tend to behave. He cites things like, you know, how slavery didn’t come to an end because the slaves rebelled. It came to an end because it was abolished. There’s lots of stirring stories of brave slaves who rebelled the oppressive system but he didn’t want to make that or write that story. He cites how people that receive a terminal prognosis don’t bungee jump off a bridge or climb Machu Pichu or go see the Great Wall of China, they stay in their usual routines. People stay in marriages that are abusive or unhappy. People stay in jobs that they don’t find fulfilling. And there are all sorts of practical story reasons why they don’t. They’ve been institutionalized since they were small children in a society where the fabric of that society is different than ours. They’ve been taught that it’s a priveledge and an honor to be performing this duty for society. So they don’t want to run. In a way, that’s what the film is about. It cuts to the heart of what’s different about this film and other films or other stories. It’s also a very American question, I think. Ishigura was born in Japan and moved to England when he was six. So the book is kind of a hybrid of a Japanese and British sensibility. In Japanese culture it is considered heroic to perform one’s service to the greater society and in England there is still a very pervasive class system that makes it difficult for people to rise above their station in life. So those are all the reasons why.

Gabrielle Faust (gabriellefaust.com): On that note, most people in America go through their entire lives without making a sacrifice. They don’t really know what it means to make a sacrifice or they only make sacrifices when they are placed in a position of either necessity or circumstance. Do you think that if our society possibly had a precondition that from the time we were born we knew that at this point in time we were going to be making a sacrifice, do you think that we would maybe live better lives or richer lives? Lives without regret or do think it really wouldn’t change that aspect of life?

Romanek: I don’t know. That’s a big hypothetical. I’d need time to think about it, but I do think that people in America take for granted how cushy their life generally is. It’s not cushy for everybody obviously but most people in other countries have much more challenging lives filled with more sacrifice. I don’t know. That’s just a big question. A big what if. I can only speak for myself. I just renewed my driver’s license and I didn’t tick the donor box. I didn’t do it because I don’t want to help someone in need, it’s more that I kind of feel a weird sense of ownership about myself. I guess I want to kind of control what happens even after I’m dead. I’m such a control freak. I don’t like the idea of being treated the way Ruth is treated in the film when she gives her organs and is sort of left there like a piece of meat. I guess I don’t want to be a piece of meat. A part of it probably has to do with my fear of dying. I’m sort of rambling and not really answering your question. It’s too big of a question. It’s interesting to talk about the literal story and science fiction aspects of the story but those things are really just a metaphor and a delivery system for the bigger human themes that were an interest to Ishigura. It turns the film into a parable about our predicament of having a limited lifespan and what do we decide is important when we can’t push that notion to the back of our minds anymore. I think what Ishigura was saying is that what’s important is love and friendship and treating people well.

Brent Moore (geekscape.net): One of the things that really struck me about the film is that, for all intents and purposes, it’s a science fiction film but the way that you approach that is very pedestrian. I love that these important people look like truck drivers, that kind of thing. So what was your approach to doing a science fiction film and yet making it so low key?

Romanek: I wasn’t making a science fiction film. I was making a love story that had a science fiction context. So the science fiction is kind of between the lines of the love story. My thinking on it was that I wasn’t making a science fiction film. I wouldn’t describe it as a science fiction film that is sort of a pedestrian science fiction film, I would describe it as a love story where the science fiction is just this sort of subtle patina on the story. The science fiction-y things that we could have done that might have been more overt like futuristic buildings or this or that gadget, I mean, they aren’t in the book. The tone you’re describing is in the book. We took our cues from the book and tried to make a faithful adaptation and capture some essence of the book. Tonally capture the quality of the book. That’s how the book tells the story. That’s not a poster for a science fiction film. But it is, and that’s what’s interesting and hopefully somewhat original about it.

Faust: While working on this film did you possibly discover something different about your own human nature? Did it maybe change your outlook a little bit on your previous perceptions of life, death, and living?

Romanek: I think any film would. Moreso maybe because of its subject matter, but making a film is such an incredible experience. It’s a marathon. It’s like some sort of boot camp on every level. It’s exhausting physically and mentally and, in this case, emotionally because the story is so emotionally fraught. It was months and months and months of travelling all over England. There are a lot of moments where you are humbled by your inability to handle something or you are cheered by the days when things seem to go smoothly. It’s a whole journey. The editing alone is a journey. I don’t think people have any real inside conception of how much work goes into making a film by so many people. So any film is going to be a process where you are going to learn about yourself. I was away from my family a lot to make the film. That felt like a sacrifice that was ironic in light of what the story is really trying to say. Which is that since our time here is so limited we have to be in the present moment and cherish our loved ones. I was away from my family out of necessity. We had just had a baby during preproduction and my wife couldn’t really travel so that was hard. That was the hardest part about it. When I could get outside of it enough to have perspective on a question like that, which happens occasionally, I would go, “God, I’m really lucky to be doing this”. They don’t let you make films like this very often and Ishigura is one of my favorite authors so I’m adapting a novel by one of my favorite authors. I can’t believe I even met the guy. There was a sense of being appreciative of the opportunity. I don’t know if that answered your question.

Jeff Leins (newsinfilm.com): There’s a few times where they are walking in these lush environments and driving through these canopies of trees and that’s juxtaposed with other times where it’s just a bleak environment. Can you talk a little bit about creating that aesthetic?

Romanek: I mean, you are pointing out one detail. I mean, we’re just following the story. I like making rules so that the crew and the team are all kind of on the same page. So we’re not all over the place, we are kind of limited. I had a limited color palette. I wanted the colors to be gentle. I didn’t want there to be strong contrast or bright colors. I felt that because the truths that the book is dealing with can be kind of disturbing but Ishigura’s writing style can be so gentle and beautiful and deceptively simple, I wanted to capture that. Part of it had to do with the palette being gentle. It’s even announced in the titles. The titles are gentle colors. I forbad the color black in the film. It crops up occasionally when it’s needed, but I felt that’s too harsh for a film about mortality. We also created these sort of meta-strategies where the first part of the film is school, the second part of the film is farm, the third part of the film is hospital. I also tried to draw out some of the Japanese quality in Ishigura’s sensibility. So there’s a simplicity to the filming and hopefully you find some resonance in simple things and an appreciation for nature and the sound of nature. Part of me just wanted the film to be beautiful because I thought the book was beautiful and I thought if the film was too naturalistic or harsh or gritty that that combined with the message would just send people screaming from the theater. I thought it’d be too much to take. It needed to be a gentle delivery of these disturbing truths.

Moore: Speaking of the book, one of the things that you hear a lot about it is the term unfilmable. So I wanted to see how you approached it and how you took to the task of adapting an unfilmable book, and do you actually believe anything to be unfilmable?

Romanek: Well I don’t think anything is unfilmable, especially these days with computers. Kubrick said that if you can think it or write it you could film it, and that was back in the sixties. But he was Stanley Kubrick. That’s a favorite quote of his. I never heard that, unfilmable. I didn’t hear it when I was reading it because no one was talking about it. I read it the week it was published in 2005. I read it and I was deeply moved and couldn’t stop thinking about it. I went back and read it again and the second time I read it I thought it was imminently filmable. I thought it was filled with wonderful images, great characters, it was not logistically demanding in terms of scale. It was boarding schools and hospitals. I didn’t think it was remotely unfilmable. I thought there was a degree of difficulty with the emotional delicacy of it and the strangeness of the tone was going to be challenging. I was challenged by that but I had a lot of help. It was a very collaborative thing. I wasn’t hired to be the auteur of this film. I was hired to take part in a collaboration with three really smart guys. Garland, Andrew McDonald, and Allon Reich who produced the film. They invited me to take part in a collaboration with them. So we all made it together really. I was the director of record, in that I made the shots and created the tone, maybe, visually. I think they did bring me in because I was thought of as a visual guy and they wanted to have a strong visual component. But I didn’t think it was unfilmable. I thought there were at least ten set piece scenes and sequences that seemed super cinematic. Also, Ishigura’s style of storytelling to me seems very cinematic because he does this sort of drip feed. He has a trick that he does that Alex Garland pointed out to me where he’ll write, “I’m about to tell you something really important” but then he tells you half of it. And then he tells you , “Ok, now I’m going to tell you something else really important” that builds on the half the thing he told you but he’ll only tell you half of that. So it really pulls you through the story and that’s good for films, that sort of formula

Unknown: Did you have any sort of challenges with filming any of the scenes with the children because there were so many children in it?

Romanek: That was probably the biggest challenge of the movie. Knowing that the first act of the film was going to have to be carried by twelve year olds, and if it didn’t work then we were screwed. If they didn’t resemble the older actors, which is something I think usually doesn’t work in films. We were very demanding that they not only be terrific actors but they very strongly resemble their counterparts. So a lot of the rehearsal time was devoted to helping ensure that that first act would be successful. I had the older actors read the first act scenes and had the younger actors observe this. It served the double purpose of the older actors gaining sense memories of having played those scenes and the younger actors, it was kind of a sneaky way to get them to see what a more experienced actor would do with those scenes. Then we mixed and matched. Carrie would play a scene with Charlie, who played young Tom. Kiera would play a scene with young Izzy, who played young Cathy. They also just spent a lot of time together playing and talking and bonding and having their mannerisms blur a little bit. We took them to the location and they just played frisbee and hide and go seek and stuff, so they got to know the layout of the school and again had sense memories of having spent time there. So that was maybe the biggest challenge

Curtis: I know the movie isn’t making a statement, a political statement, about cloning or the morality of cloning at all, but it was very muted and there with Madame and the art gallery and how they wanted to show people that they had souls. So there was a little undercurrent of that, the politics of cloning...

Romanek: It’s more present in the book. The scene where Cathy and Tommy seek out Madame and Miss Emily to try to get this deferral, more time, in the book is quite an extensive explication of all of the politics and it’s really interesting. But because we were making a film where we were really strongly emphasizing the love story it seemed like it wouldn’t be emotionally engaging. If people are connecting with the movie emotionally then they don’t want to hear all that stuff at that moment. It’s not relevant to the characters. So it’s all kind of implied and inferred. I think the idea was that the school’s campaign was because there was starting to be a public outcry of how these creatures, quote unquote, were being treated that they tried an experiment. It was an experiment to see what would happen if these human beings were treated almost like free range humans rather than battery farm humans. One of the tragedies of it, of course, the tragedy upon the tragedy, is that they didn’t really anticipate and couldn’t legislate all the emotions that would emerge in these creatures. Hence the story. But more of that is explained in the book in some detail.

Faust: Do you think maybe that was a hindrance. That they probably meant well in trying to give them some sort of solid foundation in making them fine young human beings but at the same time they were so sheltered that they had this innocence and naiveté so that when they finally did go out into the real world they were too fragile to really exist. Do you think that innocent and naiveté was a hindrance to the donors or it possibly could have been a strength in that if they stayed together and they didn’t venture too far out so they didn’t know exactly what they were missing.

Romanek: I don’t know what to say because you asked and answered the question very eloquently. I can kind of say yes. I think you’ve understood a facet of it and I agree with you. Sorry.

Moore: Kind of speaking to the love story aspect of the movie, one thing that I thought was interesting, and I’d love to get your take on it, is that it seems to imply that love was unable to save the clones and it makes the comparison to human beings. You said this was a love story and you wanted to delve into the love theme but it kind of almost comes out with a pessimistic tone about the fact that love doesn’t save you.

Romanek: It doesn’t. Nothing does. There’s nothing that will allow you to not have your life come to an end. What I find deeply moving about the film, and maybe hopeful is too strong a word, but she got what she wanted. They got what they wanted. They finally acknowledged their love for each other. That’s something that doesn’t happen in most people’s lives, even if they live to be a hundred. And they also behave with tremendous dignity, I think. They behave very well and as decent human beings. They’re not after material goods or power. They just want to acknowledge each other’s love, stay bonded in their friendship, Ruth wants to redress a terrible mistake she made and succeeds somewhat in doing that and sees some sort of redemption. What I find most moving is this graceful place of acceptance that Cathy comes to at the end of the film. We all have to figure out what our relationship to our own mortality is going to be. You can either fight against it or try to figure out a way around it like Tommy does or get plastic surgery to look like we’re not going to die. In doing my research on concepts of Japanese art and aesthetics I came across this notion called Yugen. It is the joyful acceptance of the inherent sadness of life, which is a really beautiful idea. I feel like that’s where Cathy is at the end of the film and I find that very inspiring and I aspire to have that sort of relationship with things. So love doesn’t save them, but it’s important. It just doesn’t forestall death.

Unknown: When discussing this, do you think this would appeal to a boomer age more than another?

Romanek: You know, we cannot figure out the demographic or who has responded so strongly to the film. A friend of mine just said they took their fourteen year old boy to the film who likes Transformer movies and he leaned over in the middle of the movie and said, “Dad, this is really good”. There are older literate people who read that don’t connect with it. They may be frightened by what it’s saying. There are people that cry buckets. We’ve had rave reviews that are rapturous and we’ve had people that don’t connect with it but we can’t break down the demographic of what that is. I don’t know why that is. I do know that the people that do connect with it are moved very deeply by it. That’s really gratifying.

Faust: What do you hope that audiences take away from the film?

Romanek: You know, I had someone write me an email that said “I saw your film and it made me cry and I haven’t reacted to a film emotionally like that in years and I called my father because I realized I hadn’t spoken to him in over three weeks and I told him how much I love him and how much I appreciated what a good father he’s been.” It’s just one of those reminders of what’s important maybe, and a gentle reminder I hope. Life is brief. I hope it’s more complex and nuanced than a simple Carpe Diem. It’s just a reminder of what’s really important. Friendship, love, behaving well. Those are the important things and the rest is a lot of nonsense. That’s what the book did for me so I’m just trying to transfer that.

 

Film festivals are a wonderful time to see off the radar films, go to fancy parties, and meet interesting people from all over the world. Film festivals are not a good place to find time to write about film festivals. That being said, here’s part two of my Fantastic Fest recap, only a week after the last. My work ethic is astounding.

Summer Wars – This is the only anime I saw at the fest this year, and one of the only new animes I’ve seen in years. That should make it clear that I’m not a huge anime fan, and am maybe not the most reliable person to pass judgement on one.  That being said this was a totally enjoyable, if not particularly mind blowing, flick about an all powerful social network going rogue and threatening all life on Earth. So if you are interested in The Social Network but thought it needed flying bunny avatars and epic online card battles then this is the movie you’ve been waiting for.

I Saw The Devil – This was the first of the secret screenings at the fest. Every year, Fantastic Fest hosts several of these and they are generally the most difficult films to get into as the expectation is they will be something completely awesome and anticipated. I would guess that at least half of the idle conversation among festival attendees revolves around trying to guess what these might be. No one is ever right. Secret screenings are also dangerous because you could be getting a horrible film and you’d hate yourself for missing out on the better films. Fortunately I didn’t fall victim to that here. I Saw The Devil is a revenge flick out of Korea that is absolutely amazing. The movie plays like a lean and mean (really mean, this thing is brutal) genre flick but it is well over two hours and takes a number of turns that really turn the formula on its head. One of the best cat and mouse stories I’ve ever seen and full of some of the most visceral action scenes I’ve seen in ages.

30 Days of Night: Dark Days- This is hard to say after having a nice conversation with the director and star of the film, but this was horrible. Easily the worst thing I saw at the festival (at least Ong Bak had the decency to be unintentionally funny). Dark Days manages to completely void of anything compelling aside from a couple of good gore moments. It does stick fairly close to the source material, so if you are a HUGE fan of the books maybe there will be some enjoyment here, but the presentation is so lackluster you could probably pull off something better with your friends and cheap camcorder.

Check out my interview here.

Red Hill – I didn’t know anything about this movie going into it but was pleasantly surprised to find a really solid modern day western. This sticks so closely to genre conventions and wears its influences so blatantly on its sleeve that you can’t possibly be surprised by the proceedings but that’s never much of a hindrance.  Red Hill features a formidable antagonist who recalls Anton Chigurh in a more than passing way, in fact there is a huge chunk of the film that feels kind of ripped from No Country For Old Men but if you’re gonna copy somebody, copy the best. Westerns are still somewhat of a rare treat (despite a recent resurgence) so check this one out.

Check out my interview here.

I Spit On Your Grave – I was really interested in how they would pull off this remake of one of the more brutal exploitation films of the 1970’s and unfortunately this feels very similar to the recent Last House on the Left remake. It’s plenty brutal, which extreme cinema fans will appreciate, but it’s too glossy and completely devoid of the social commentary (intentional or not) that made the original more than just a sick display of rape and torture. Despite the amount of nudity and gore on display here, I was mostly just bored.

And that’s it for this round of reviews. I’ll be back with one more in a couple of days, along with my picks for best of the fest.

Fantastic Fest has descended on Austin once more and it’s bigger and badder than ever. The quality of films this year is noticeably improved from the last and the festival has expanded, adding an indie video game showcase called Fantastic Arcade. We’ve been completely entrenched in the festivities but after the madness of last night’s party (video evidence below) we’re taking a breather and letting you in on what we’ve seen and done over the last several days. Stay tuned here for the remainder of the week for reviews and interviews from the fest.

So without further ado, here’s a quick rundown of the films we saw at Fantastic Fest Day One:

Never Let Me Go – This is actually not an official Fantastic Fest selection but they are screening it and doing press  so I’m including it here. Never Let Me Go is the Mark Romanek directed adaptation of the supposedly “unfilmable” novel by Kazuo Ishiguro. The plot revolves around a group of children (played as adults by Carey Mulligan, Kiera Knightley, and future spiderman Andrew Garfield) at a special school that harbors a disturbing secret. I won’t go into further detail here but expect a full, slightly more spoilerish review in the coming days. I will, however, say that Romanek has crafted something very special here. Never Let Me Go is the most beautiful and moving film I’ve seen this year and it is something you should seek out if it opens near you. We will have an interview with Romanek later this week.


Let Me In – This is one a lot of film fans were dreading. Let The Right One In is already hailed as a modern masterpiece and the idea of doing an American remake so soon after its release seems like sacrilege. After viewing the film, I can say that they didn’t ruin it but they also didn’t do anything to make its existence necessary.  Let Me In follows the original almost beat for beat and always feels like a shadow of the original. We will have a full review and an interview with Matt Reeves and Kodi Smit-McPhee later this week.


Stone – Stone was an odd choice for a genre film festival. The movie features no “fantastic” elements and is just a low key prison drama/morality tale that will likely be more remembered for Ed Norton’s cornrows than anything else. Despite that, it actually is a somewhat compelling film and a real acting showcase. Norton sometimes seems like he’s trying too hard but Robert De Niro and Milla Jovovich are better than they’ve been in years. I think the last act wavers a bit as it goes into a strangely meditative and religious zone, but still one to check out if you want to see these actors play off each other. We will have an interview with Norton up later this week.


Ong Bak 3 – Anyone who saw Ong Bak 2 knows what they are in for here.  Ong Bak 2 was an incomprehensible and boring mess with one of the strangest endings I’ve ever seen but it was somewhat saved by an amazing climactic fight scene. I was hoping 3 could at the very least offer more in the way of awesome action but unfortunately that’s not the case. Tony Jaa was going through a much publicized mental breakdown during filming (he’s now a monk, I’m not kidding) and Ong Bak 3 mostly feels like it’s comprised of leftover footage from the previous film. In other words, it’s just as incomprehensible but isn’t saved by an amazing fight scene. The few fights in the film seem like total afterthoughts, even though they upped the elephant quotient considerably. The one saving grace of this almost unwatchable movie are several hilariously awful scenes that are perfectly suited for group mockery at drunken movie nights.


Buried – Buried is the Ryan Reynolds in a box movie. It’s not often you see a film as uncompromising and ballsy as this little experiment. I really don’t want to say too much about it as preserving the surprise for yourself is important for films like this. I’ll just say it exceeded my expectations in every way and is in the running for the best film of the festival so far.

And that’s it for day one. I’ll be back later with more recaps as well as full reviews of select films.

P.S. – Chaos Reigns

Jean Pierre Jeunet is one of the most talented and visually unique directors currently working. He is perhaps best known for the amazing Amelie, but his whole filmography is something to be cherished (even the unapologetically odd Alien Resurrection). So, when I had the opportunity to see his first new film in 5 years I was understandably excited. Did it live up to expectations?

Not really, unfortunately. Now, that’s not to say it’s bad, because it’s actually quite good. Jeunet just happens to be one of the directors I expect greatness from.

The story of Micmacs (a strange title that I’m still not sure the meaning of), is about a man named Bazil, played by Dany Boon, who lives through a series of life changing accidents brought about by the actions of two deulling weapons dealers. Once he finds out the source of his bad fortune he decides to do the only sensible thing, take revenge. Over the course of the film Bazil recruits a series of quirky outcast who hatch a plan to take out the evil weapons dealers. It’s kind of like a cartoon version of Ocean’s 11.

Where the film succeeds is in its charm and visual beauty, two things Jeunet seems to be able to pull off in his sleep. His films exist in vibrant green hued cartoon worlds where a live orchestra might appear behind you to score a revelatory moment or you might drive by a billboard for the very movie you are starring in. His characters are all memorable for their unique and over the top traits. Bazil has a head injury and has to think of random facts or strange observations (Are there pygmy midgets? How tall are they? How many steps does it take to wear down concrete stairs?) to keep his thoughts straight. He also loves reciting dialogue along with movies. One arms dealer collects body parts of famous people while the other teaches his son to have a encyclopedic knowledge of nuclear explosions. Jeunet regular Dominique Pinon plays a human cannonball who swears he’s in the Guinness Book of Records, but just can’t find the entry.

All these characters are fun to watch and the antics they get up to are consistently entertaining. The problem is that it all seems a bit shallow. These people are defined solely by their quirks and that makes it hard to care too deeply for them. Our lovable band of outcasts are given almost not backstory or character development. They just show up, act zany, and live happily ever after. This is especially harmful to the main love story of the movie between Bazil and a contortionist. They don’t like each other, and then they do,  and you don’t buy a second of it. It may be that these things are just not a big concern for Jeunet (you could apply these criticisms to almost all of his work) and you are just supposed to infer emotion from the broad strokes that he paints. I just find this a bit unsatisfactory.

The movie also attempts to be an anti-war message film, and this falls almost completely flat. First off, it feels like it’s too little too late (a problem that affected Polanski’s recent Ghost Writer as well) as this general sentiment has taken over art for the last decade and while it’s still an issue, anti-war fatigue set in a while back. The average person is more concerned about their bank account these days. Also, Micmacs is just too cute to be serious. When you have a scene where two men who are responsible for countless deaths are tied up with grenades in their mouths, it should be deadly serious. Instead it’s actually kind of adorable.

That said, I need to reiterate that this is not a bad movie. I can pretty confidently say that you will enjoy yourself watching it. You’ll just walk away remembering the appetizers and condiments instead of the main course.

There is a scene towards the end that sums this up pretty nicely. One of the Bazil’s ragtag crew is a toymaker and throughout the film you’ll see these amazing little toys constructed out of found objects (which reminded me a lot of Michel Gondry). At the end he has a device that is basically a coat hanger with a dress on it rigged to a machine that twirls it around and makes it look like a dancer. The toymaker looks upon this with utter glee, and the camera does too. We watch this dance much longer than necessary, and it’s lovely. Jeunet is a toymaker. He possesses this wonderful imagination and innocence and he finds beauty in the little things, even if that means shutting out the bigger picture.

 

 

SXSW is over and while I have reviewed many of the films I saw, there are still a few that didn’t get the star treatment. I’ve already posted a roundup of documentary reviews but there were some interesting narrative films as well that deserve attention.

I’m Here


This Spike Jonze directed short was one of my most anticipated films of the fest. Jonze is one of my favorite directors and he always does interesting work in short form films. His recent Kanye West short We Were Once A Fairytale was a phenomenal mindfuck and this looked to follow in its footsteps.

I’m Here is thirty minutes long and is set in a world similar to our own except for the fact that robots exist as a segregated population. They work menial jobs and are not allowed the freedoms of humans. Our protagonist is a library assistant who meets a manic pixie dream girl robot at a bus stop. What follows is a fairly typical and quaint love story with a sci fi twist.

I’m Here would be a pretty unremarkable film were the robots just humans, which they could easily be as the movie doesn’t dwell much on their robot nature. Having them be robots allows Spike to create an amazing visual metaphor for romantic relationships. As these two become closer they give more of themselves away and lose their individual selves piece by piece. To say more would ruin it for you.

This truth is something we all know on some level but to see it visualized here is at once beautiful and terrifying. Jonze does not pass any kind of judgement on this, he just shows it as it is. You are left to make your own conclusions as to whether this a beautiful aspect of love or if it’s a horror to be avoided.

The film is beautiful to look at and features Jonze’s typical hipster cool soundtrack.  If you have any affinity for the man you will fall in love with this.

Enter The Void


This was by far the most audacious film I saw at the fest, which was expected given that it was the latest from Gaspar Noe. Noe has made a name for himself for being visually inventive, controversial, and perhaps self indulgent. His last film, Irreversible, was equally praised and reviled for its manic camera work and startlingly vile imagery. One scene famously and graphically shows a brutal rape in its entirety without any cuts.

Enter The Void takes the elements from his past films and cranks them all to 11. Noe’s camera seems completely detached from any camera man or rig. It floats around the sets like a spirit in shots that seem to go on forever. Much of the film even takes place in a first person point of view, complete with blinks. The visual magic tricks Noe pulls off here are nothing short of stunning… at least for a while.

The problem lies in the story, which is extremely hard to parse. It seems to have something to do with reincarnation. The lead character (who is usually shot from behind or through his eyes) is killed early in the film and what follows is a trippy and disturbing journey as he waits to be reborn. We see fragments of memories clash with reality as his spirit flies around Tokyo watching the effect his death has on loved ones. The narrative is loose here and it doesn’t always seem to make sense. This would be easier to tolerate if the film weren’t nearly three hours long. After a while it just becomes painful. One scene, which runs probably ten minutes, is nothing but CG fractal imagery set to low churning noises.

Noe also again pushes boundaries as far as graphic content. There is an extended sequence where all the characters in the film are shown having graphic sex while glowing tendrils grow from their bodies. This all takes place inside of a scale model hotel in a long continuous shot. It’s that kind of movie. There are much more shocking bits as well, but I don’t want to ruin it for you.

I don’t know how I feel about this movie. I definitely need to see it again to try to get a better sense of exactly what was going on. In many ways it reminded me of Lars Von Trier’s Antichrist. Both are visually stunning and utterly unique movies, and both might very well be terrible.

Tucker and Dale vs. Evil


Tucker and Dale is a comedy/horror that attempts to play with horror conventions and for the most part succeeds. We follow a group of college students as they take a trip to the woods and are seemingly picked off one by one by insane rednecks. However, it turns out the rednecks are really nice guys and the deaths are just a series of unfortunate accidents. It’s a comedy of miscommunication.

Alan Tudyk  and Tyler Labine play the titular characters and both put in hilarious performances. Tyler Labine is especially effective and is given the most to work with as he has a love story subplot. Labine was great in Reaper and had a scene stealing performance in Zach and Miri Make a Porno but this movie seems like it could be his breakout.

This is a simple film and isn’t likely to stick with you long, but it succeeds in its modest goals and is entertaining throughout.

Skateland


This was the surprise of the fest for me. I knew nothing about it except that it was set in the early 80’s and was made by Austin filmmakers.

Skateland stars Joaquin Phoenix lookalike Shiloh Fernandez as a gifted writer who is wasting his life working at a small town skating rink. He’s a typical young adult who lets fear overcome ambition and tries to convince himself that he is happy where he is, despite everyone around him wanting him to make something of himself. It doesn’t help that he’s fallen in love with a local girl, played by Twilight’s Ashley Greene.

All this is threatened by the imminent closing of the skating rink, which serves as a metaphor for a new decade and oncoming adulthood. The whole movie is very reminiscent of films like Adventureland, American Graffiti, and Dazed and Confused but I happen to really like those films so I welcomed this one despite its lack of originality.

It’s an affecting and funny take on the typical coming of age love story that I encourage everyone to check out when they get the chance. It also has a killer soundtrack.