As an independent filmmaker, it is always a pleasure to watch one of your peers accomplish something that blows your mind. Writer/Director Matt Meindl has never ceased to amaze me. I have only had the pleasure of seeing three different works by Meindl (Real Lemonade, Go Barefoot and Lollygagger), but after each film I have always ended up with a smile on my face.
Fando and Lis depart in search of the magic City of Tar, which will probably offer a cure to Lis’ legs in order to make her walk again, aside from granting eternal happiness to both of them. The Search: An early thematic goal to the director’s later midnight classics El Topo and The Holy Mountain. Scandalous, and too sacrilegious for the audience at the Acapulco Film Festival, the film was subsequently dropped by the distributor in 1968. Fando and Lis remained obscure for over 30 years.
Alejandro Jodorowsky’s long-lost feature debut film is uneven, but it’s obvious that a raw energy and a torrent of imaginative ideas went into the making. Shot on weekends with a minuscule budget, casting friends and family, Fando and Lis plays like a cross of the later Fellini circus with the brutality of an early Buñuel film.
Structured as a road movie of sorts, our protagonists have bizarre encounters with an array of unpredictable characters. Many would call it violent, but there is a certain childlike quality in the staging: A burning piano is knocked over again and again in reverse motion; Mud bathers rise (a la Night of The Living Dead) at the base of a mountain; A knife perforates a little doll’s crotch, and snakes are introduced in the crack. I could go on describing the stream of images that stuck with me, but you get the point: Watch the movie.
Trying to explain its meaning is beyond the point, as Jodorowsky himself stated: “I’m more attracted to what I don’t understand.” The symbolism ranges from light social satire to striking, brutal imagery. Same goes for the B&W cinematography, which alternates from bland hand-held “backyard style” to breathtakingly executed shots (see the wonderfully choreographed spiral movement when Fando abandons Lis in a pit, running up the hill in circles in the background while Lis laments in the foreground).
Yet Jodorowsky seems more invested at times in the power of his ideas than in their proper screen execution. The action is sometimes clunky and/or hampered by questionable editing choices. This inconsistency doesn’t seem like a deliberate effect, since many sequences are conventionally but effectively cut. However, the use of music is quite expressive as well as many sound design choices.
Fando and Lis is not a perfect film, but “perfection” is an absurd term given the nature of the material. In any case, suffice to say that this feature debut resonates far more deeply than the sober, functional exercises that Hollywood chunks out every year, not to mention the “art-house mainstream” that permeates most of the Cannes Film Festival highlights of late.
Jodorowsky’s work is often closer to performance art than it is to film, if we take film as an expression of consistent atmosphere and cinematic flow, illustrating ideas at the fully extent of the medium. The auteur expresses that as a filmmaker; he doesn’t care whether the audience is bored or angry, he says a film should be made with your guts, without following any rules of cinematic grammar. The result is sometimes inconsistent but never disappointing.
In a world plagued by artistic concessions, Jodorowsky emerges as an artist with an unique voice, capable of delivering unforgettable images. His work is always refreshing and inspiring.
Four stars.
Many would call Bill Kersey’s Solace a music video, but it does what the genre often fails to convey most of the time: it establishes an emotional connection. Solace does in three minutes what a regular feature should do in a hour and a half. It recounts the story of a man who goes through life playing his guitar; a man dealing with both happy and sad moments via his music.
It is a fine example of how a moviemaker can do so much with so little. The concept is simple as it is structured around one instrumental guitar song. The story is told without dialogue, relying only on a solid montage of still photographs, depicting the different phases of the man’s life in chronological order, starting as a kid (even then with his guitar.) This is something I respect very much: To be able to tell a story without the aid of dialogue, titles or any other expositional devices aside from the images.
Solace doesn’t have any extraordinary events, save a single tremendous one that takes up a huge portion of the piece. But at the end, the piece is just about life and that’s the beauty of it. The film works at all levels, whether you review it as a music video, a documentary or a drama. It also happens to have the right length; at 3 minutes, 36 seconds Solace is a simple yet very concise and effective short film.
If you visit this site, you are probably a moviemaker and chances are in grade school you were a bit of an artistic type. Or maybe you just knew one or two artistic types. Regardless, did you ever notice in school that artistic types would doodle or sketch in their notebooks during class? I used to draw the prositron gliders from Ghostbusters in the margins of all of my notebooks, but sometimes when I was really bored, I would sketch something a little more impressive and maybe show it to a couple of friends. After that, I wouldn’t even save it, never mind attempt to get it into a gallery and show the world my doodling. Alas, this is what Joseph F. Alexandre appears to be doing with his latest picture God Save the Queen. Essentially a cinematic “doodle” haphazardly shot on Super 8mm film, Alexandre wants you to believe this is a “ lyrical, meditative appreciation of California’s central coast that quickly shifts into an explosive polemic charged with political overtones.” In reality, it’s nothing more than absently drawn doodling material – something someone bored would throw together on a Sunday afternoon if one had a handful of raw footage, a classical music piece, and a punk rock diatribe from the Sex Pistols.
Tailor made for the festival circuit with an easy to swallow under-five-minute running time and packing a liberal agenda that condemns the Bush Administration by juxtaposing shots of oil rigs off the California coast with shots of W. on the television, God Save the Queen gains all of its energy from the Sex Pistols song of the same name. And by that rationale, it’s not so much a doodle as it is a “trace” of someone else’s work. Without the Sex Pistols, the meaning of Alexandre’s “polemic” would be ‘nil. With it, there’s at least some context for the sloppily shot and strung together raw footage.
Do you want to see some pasted together raw footage that’s well-shot, well-cut, festival ready, politically charged, emotionally gripping and not dependent on others’ artistic expression? Check out Bobby Miller’s NYC Loves George Bush, an ultra-short documentary from Rigged Productions that carries more weight in its last five seconds than God Save the Queen carries in dozens of repeated viewings. That’s gallery work, not this.
One Star
(Apologies to Mr. Alexandre for the tardiness of this review which comes out a good six months after he mailed his screener in to MicrocinemaScene.)
In 87 Topaz, writer and director Bill Kersey finds his late grandfather’s diary and dramatizes his nostalgia through the use of photographs, home movies, narration, and music. The editing is solid, the music adequate, and the visuals are often quite interesting. However, I think it might be too abstract in order to be appreciated by a wider audience, since we never get to find out much about the characters aside from the grandfather’s love of cars and scarce glimpses of the relationship with his grandson. But in the end this movie is an excuse to create a mood of nostalgia for a lost relative, which is well accomplished. The short is sincere, well paced, and overall very professionally made.
Three stars.
Cold Heart of Crystal Lake is a short film based on the long-running Friday the 13th series, about a hockey mask-wearing serial killer named Jason Voorhees, stalking the woods surrounding the Crystal Lake campsite looking for victims. The original film Friday the 13th, directed by Sean S. Cunningham and written by Victor Miller, spawned ten sequels, and a cottage industry of merchandise for fans who obsessed over the series. It is also inspired numerous people to go out and make their own films based on the franchise. These filmmakers sought no profit. Their only desire was to entertain. They simply wanted to share their unique re-envisioning of their ideas for the series, the characters within, and, of course, Jason Voorhees.
This is possibly the best of Friday the 13th fan films. Shot in two days, the film ranked Top Five in Cinescape’s Friday the 13th Fan Film Contest in 2003, something the producers are very proud of telling fans.
Set against the cold, snow-draped, landscape of ‘off season’ Camp Crystal Lake, three hunters are being stalked by Jason Voorhees, played by the massive Timothy Whitfield (Dark Woods). While one of the hunters finds himself (and his forehead) on the business end of Jason’s knife, the other two rush to get away—heading deeper into the woods. One of the hunters, Ray (Ron Brosh), heads back to rescue his friend. Of course, he is the only one of these three hunters who actually make it into the second act.
Later, after the credits (with Drowning Pool’s song ‘When the Bodies Hit the Floor’ blaring overtop), we discover that our surviving hunter hasn’t faired well. Too far from his truck and all alone in the woods, Ray decides to set up a makeshift campsite, hoping to wait out the night. At the same time, three twenty-something students, Kelly (Jillian Swanson), David (Chris Cipalone) and Kelly’s boyfriend, Lance (Eric Floyd), on a weekend jaunt to the woods, have some unexpected car troubles. Like Ray, they are stranded and alone. The only communication, a cell phone, is broken. Leaving the safety of their vehicle, the three decide to head down the deserted country road looking for help. Ray plays gracious host after the three kids accidentally stumble upon his campsite. He offers to let them stay with him for the night, even plying them with food and alcohol.
“Can’t we just hike back to your truck?” Kelly asks. “That’s not a good idea. These woods are dangerous after nightfall,” Ray tells her. This leads into the customary Jason Voorhees discussion, something his guests don’t readily want to believe. When David heads outside to go relieve himself, he is followed by Ray, who decides they would be safer in twos. Lance and Kelly, both on their way to complete inebriation, decide to have some quickie sex inside Ray’s cramped tent. With all the pieces in place, the inevitable third act—everybody getting killed, plays out and is actually quite enjoyable. The murders are inventive and plenty gory. Swanson’s death, which involves her entrails being methodically ripped out of her belly, is easily the most gruesome. The last shot, mindful of the tranquil final moment of the original Friday The 13th, features an angry Jason, clad in a camo jacket, stumbling upon his last intended victim, only to discover that mother nature herself has already taken care of him. Interesting.
Cliches abound, as Whitfield and Patnaud stay firm to the standard conventions of slasher-films, as well as the franchise that inspired them. Fans of the Friday the 13th series will find much to enjoy about the film, from the gore to the laughable cardboard characters/victims to the requisite moments of absurdity ramping up to Jason’s final hack and slash campaign. Swanson’s near naked sex scene with Eric Floyd while Jason cruises their tent, the height of the film’s absurdity, will have fans of the series emoting with great joy, knowing full well the consequences that follow such interactions. Conversely, many others, I’m sure, will deem Patnaud’s film a flimsy, ultra-gory, one-note slasher movie homage, and a waste of time.
Technically, the film is very well made, minus some choppy editing here and there. Patnaud and his crew, which include up and coming make-up artist, Jeremy O’Neail, as well as Jason Zyla and Mike DeFrancesco, proved they now how to make a very professional movie, even if the budget is non-existent. Jeremy O’Neail, who did some early special effects make-up work on the film, is quickly becoming a name in the mainstream world, working on Zombie Town and Disappearances, with legendary actress Geneviève Bujold. Another member of the crew, Mike DeFrancesco (Detour Into Madness Vol 1) wore numerous hats on this project including producer, lighting and still photographer. Also, Jason Zyla, who has dabbled in film, working on Steven Soderbergh’s Bubble, also provided some work on the script. Director Joe Patnaud surely owes these guys a debt of gratitude for helping him produce such a professional-looking film.
The acting on the other hand, is merely mediocre, with only two real stand-outs—Ron Brosh and the beautiful Jillian Swanson. Since appearing in Cold Heart of Crystal Lake, Swanson began carving out a career for herself in the low-budget horror film arena, appearing in Killer Campout, Camp Daze and Killer Pickton, a film based on real-life Canadian serial killer Robert Pickton. In late 2005, she re-teamed with Timothy Whitfield and Timberwolf Entertainment to appear in Detour Into Madness Vol 2. Ron Brosh, who plays Ray, is also working hard to carve out a career in television and mainstream films. In 2005 he appeared in Karla, the controversial film about real-life Canadian serial killers Paul Bernardo and Karla Homolka.
When it comes to Friday the 13th fan films, it doesn’t get any better than this.
Three and a half stars.
Bill Kersey’s Permian Flow is an experimental minimalist short which uses images of the beauty, quietness, and changing seasons of nature, counter-pointed with radio recordings of War News, politicians, and all kinds of damage inflicted to humans by humans from World War II to 9/11. Beautifully shot in the mountains of Arizona and Colorado, the sound design is solid, the visuals are flawless, and most importantly its concept and message is very effectively conveyed.
Kersey has an uncommon sensibility. All his films are different from each other, yet they are all unique in the sense that so far he doesn’t seem interested in any of the most common Microcinema trends: Vampires, zombies, gore, or tough guys shooting each other while wearing sunglasses indoors.
Some people might be tempted to call Permian Flow “artsy” or “boring,” and it certainly is not for all tastes. But it’s a very unusual, refreshing piece. It reminds me of an era when films really used to be a conceptual art, rather than plot-oriented entertainment. French avant-garde filmmaker Chris Marker comes to mind. They just don’t make many movies like that anymore. Permian Flow owes a lot to that school of filmmaking, and I applaud it for that.
Four stars.
Frontier is weird. Now that could be a good thing. It could be a bad thing. Or it could have no true bearing on whether the project is good or bad. In this case, it’s a good thing because being weird is the only saving grace for this project. If you like to see a man humping the ground or watching a man in a bigfoot-esque costume break a raw egg on the head of a woman dressed in Russian garb, well, then this film is for you. If you want some sort of plot, meaning, goal or sense of satisfaction, then you should look elsewhere.
As far as I can tell, Frontier, produced by Nathan Zeller and written and directed by David Zeller, is about two government employees from the fictional country of Bulbovia who are on a mission to explore an unknown area of their small, socialistic country. There are bouts of humor in this odd piece, but the laughs or interest are few and far between. The odd range of characters, beyond the two government explorers, include the previously mentioned man in bigfoot-eque costume, a slow-witted man in a tool shed, a wife who sold her twin children and arrives floating in a river in an aluminum tub and some guy wearing a white robe with a hairy mask. If this inspires you to risk 84 minutes of your life, go for it. If not, avoid it.
On a side note, this was the first DVD I’ve viewed from Film Threat DVD. The package and design are excellent, but I was disappointed by the quality of the project, both technically and in content. Film Threat DVD is attempting to find a distribution channel for microcinema projects and for that I’m grateful. I only hope their other offerings are far more satisfying.
One star.
Children in an isolated village outside of Havana find their creativity sparked by the arrival of documentary filmmakers in Cuban director Miguel Coyula’s nonfiction piece Idea.
Coyula coaches the youngsters philosophically in storytelling and technically in filmmaking, and suddenly a font of inspiration wells up, centering around a dark cave near the edge of town. The youngster’s exploration of the cave, and their running commentaries of what they extrapolate might have or could possibly happen there, are the core of the work.
Shot in a straightforward fashion, but edited in a more dramatic style, what is engaging about this short is how it shows the transformative power of ideas on those with very limited resources to share them. Idea also offers a rare glimpse into the lives of rural Cubans; most interestingly, an enterprising woman who runs a quasi-cable system/movie theater with one VCR and a lot of coaxial cable, strung throughout an entire apartment building.
Those who doubt the importance of the arts, and their impact on people from all walks of life, should take a look at Idea. Viewers are sure to feel inspired by the simple, yet lyrical narrative and the slice of life afforded by Coyula’s work.
Four stars.
In the alternate history provided in director Brian Flemming’s Nothing So Strange, Bill Gates appears to get gunned down by Alex Hidell, a sniper on a hotel roof, who is then in turn shot by L.A. police. Was it the first volley in a class/race war? A police cover-up? A far-reaching conspiracy? This mock documentary follows an eclectic group known as “Citizens for Truth,” who try to hold their disparate band together long enough to find out what really happened.
Nothing So Strange plays like a Discovery Channel/History Channel/PBS-flavored documentary, but instead of examining the broader issues (which should include, in this tech-nerd’s view, what OS the world would be on without Bill Gates) focuses more on the interpersonal relationships in the group, particularly between a highly-organized earth-mother type (Laurie Pike) and a charismatic but volatile unemployed man (David James). This is where Flemming’s quasi-doc draws blood, as the group splinters and fractures, crippled by petty politics and internal strife. Spot-on characters and situations really bring this story to life, with nuanced performances all around.
Even more interesting in Nothing So Strange is how Flemming put the project together; starting with having the “script” being a lengthy Warren Commission-styled document that the actors used to improv from, on to gate-crashing L.A. police hearings and the Democratic National Convention to guerilla-shoot there—what Flemming calls “reality hacking.” Flemming takes the Haskell Wexler idea one step beyond, capturing some compelling footage. Realistic hand-held field shooting, documentary-type graphics, and an in-character DVD commentary track make the feature a complete package.
My only real criticism of Nothing So Strange is that after a lengthy buildup the feature spirals to a rather abrupt conclusion; surprising, considering the amount of improv footage Flemming reportedly shot, and the number of directions this mock documentary could have spun out towards. I left wanting to know more about the assassination, but even more so the fates of the various characters.
Why I made Nothing So Strange my first five-star review is not just because of the feature itself, but because of the completely developed cross-media platform Flemming created; this includes a handful of mock web sites about the assassination of Bill Gates and a “virtual 2nd DVD” on-line featuring additional commentary, footage, and the like, fueled by BitPass “micropayment” technology. Flemming also embraces the “Open Source” footage idea, making some of the raw shots from Nothing So Strange available for anyone to use in their own projects. To me, this makes Brian Flemming the first director I’ve come across to completely embrace and explore the microcinema ideal, and push its boundaries the farthest to date.
But regardless of all the additional trappings, Nothing So Strange is a unique idea and a compelling narrative, refreshingly done.
Five stars.