Film School Rejects » SXSW 09

Review: American Violet

Robert Levin — Fri, 17 Apr 2009 13:05:26 +0000

American Violet tries so hard to establish its topical inclinations that it plays them up at the expense of the personalized drama. Through constant allusions to the film’s setting of Texas in the waning days of George W.’s governorship director Tim Disney never stops reminding you that he wants the story of the false imprisonment of Dee Roberts (Nicole Beharie) to emblemize the plight of all minorities victimized by racially tinged abuses of power. Instead of telling the intimate story of one woman’s steadfast perseverance against impossible, imposing forces Disney opts for the bland inspirational triumph template.

As the picture opens the police arrest Dee, a hardworking single mother of four, and baselessly charge her with selling drugs. It’s soon apparent that the arrest is part of a sweeping attempt by Calvin Beckett (Michael O’Keefe), the vile, racist district attorney of Melody, Texas, to “clean up” the town’s public housing, in which Dee resides. Soon, in a nightmare scenario for the Bill O’Reillys of the world, ACLU attorney David Cohen (Tim Blake Nelson) is on the scene. He and local, good ol’ boy lawyer Sam Conroy (Will Patton) advocate for Dee’s release and, after her prison sentence is dropped in exchange for a guilty plea, persuade her to reject the deal and fight to clear her name.

The movie works best when it shuts out the politics and focuses on Dee’s life at home. Her interactions with her children and mother Alma (Alfre Woodard) establish the extraordinary nature of her personal sacrifice in challenging Beckett. The film depicts mother-child connections marked by ferocious protectiveness and impassioned, no holds barred love as Dee and Alma struggle mightily to carve out some stability for the children within an increasingly unstable world. Even if a subplot involving the deadbeat father (Xzibit) of two of the children feels like warmed over melodrama Beharie, Woodard and the young actors bring a real sense of emotional authenticity to the Roberts family bond.

When Disney shifts into agitprop territory the film promptly falls apart, lost in a sea of good intentions. It suits no one to reduce such a unique story to moralistic fodder. Yet virtually every detail of the sociopolitical milieu evoked by the picture underlines the divisive approach taken. David Cohen is depicted as such a kind, saintly figure he seems heaven sent, serving as a Jewish Messianic figure for the small Texas community. Standing in diametric opposition is Beckett, so unabashedly racist he’s impossible to take seriously. He’s such a hateful personality that it’s difficult to believe he could ever have been elected district attorney and it’s even harder to regard him as a threatening villain. The filmmakers have forgotten the critical role measures of subtlety and nuance play in convincingly evoking real world evil. Beckett might as well be Darth Vader.

The straightforward docudrama cinematography clashes with the movie’s Hollywoodized implausibility, creating the discordant effect of a film wanting to be taken as fact but so clearly trading in dramatic fictions. That inauthentic atmosphere engulfs the depiction of the legal proceedings, with the movie weighed down by its emphasis of the symbolic importance of each small victory won by Dee and her lawyers. The dialogue relentlessly drives home the significance of Dee’s decision to pursue the case against Beckett, the injustices being carried out across the country and the daunting odds they’re facing. The business talk, delivered by Nelson and others with comical earnestness, grows wearisome.

Disney has filled the movie with interesting actors, including the charismatic newcomer Beharie, but he’s so wrapped up in the movie’s message that he rarely gives them sufficient opportunity to add real texture to the characters. It’s no coincidence that the most compelling moment in the entire film is a monologue in which Sam, a white Christian community pillar, explains the personal reasons he’s joined the case. It has the truthful, resigned sadness of a man who knows he’s spent a lifetime promulgating a corrupt system and, as delivered by Patton, it gets closer to the heart of American Violet than a thousand obvious repetitions of the film’s message ever could.

Review: Anvil! The Story of Anvil

Dr. Cole Abaius — Fri, 10 Apr 2009 08:55:45 +0000

Everyone has a dream. The mail room worker who dreams of being a hot shot agent. The girl playing guitar in her dorm room that dreams of being a Rock Goddess. The cubicle worker that hopes to make it big as an advertising genius. Hell, there’s even an American Dream. A country has its own dream. Unfortunately, most people will never get to achieve theirs. Despite years of toiling, most everyone will eventually give in and succumb to their Plan B. They will look around them, realize they’ve grown too old to do what they longed for in their youth. The members of the band Anvil are not like most people.

Anvil! The Story of Anvil is as simple a story as its title suggests. It examines a critical point in the career of Anvil – a band that made it big without ever making it big. Influential in creating the metal sound of the late 1970s, and acting as the catalyst for bands like Anthrax and Metallica, Anvil are heavy hitters that didn’t reach the level of fame needed to ride the wave of drunken groupies and all-night drug binges. They made it to the middle, and when the ride was over, they ended up middle-aged average joes still striving to become rock stars. The documentary itself picks up on the eve of the first major tour the band has had in years – hitting some major cities and festivals in Europe.

The story may be simple, but the people are complex. Before I go into the worth of the film, you should know one very basic fact: Anvil rocks. They kick ass. They are fantastic musicians who have created some hard rocking music.

That’s what makes watching the film much more difficult.

The documentary – which, I swear, is a real documentary – is like a blend between the pathetic awkwardness of Spinal Tap and the angry frustration of Some Kind of Monster, the Metallica doc that no one ever asked for. It’s a frustrating film because of the subject matter, but ultimately satisfying because of how the subject is treated. There’s zero pretense. Guitarist Steve “Lips” Kudlow and drummer Robb Reiner (as if there weren’t enough Spinal Tap references) are genuine, strikingly un-self-aware people who have no choice but to be exactly who they are. There’s no playing to the camera. There’s no holding back. The audience gets a fantastic view from the passenger’s seat in the last chance hand-basket that’s taking both men down to obscurity hell. We see where they grew up, where they live, where they work. We share in what must be the most frustrating reality for anyone with a dream – achieving it without achieving it.

The one question that haunts the action of the film is – why did they get so far without becoming famous?

Every step of the way, Lips – an odd blend of Geddy Lee (if he played wicked guitar) and Eeyore (if he complained more) – pulls the band kicking and screaming toward the mirage of stardom. They embark on an ill-fated European tour which appears to destroy his endless supply of faith until he sends a demo tape to former production partner and metal guru Chris Tsangarides. CT decides there’s potential, but they’ll have to self-finance a recording session. They fight. They almost break up several times. They meet a promoter who can get them a huge show in Japan. Every attempt is always their last shot at fame. Every last shot always comes with a catch.

As a documentary, the story unfolds near-flawlessly – blending shots of the austere Canadian neighborhood where Lips and Robb are fathers and husbands and part-time workers with the sweaty reality of touring with an unproven manager. The dark world of European clubs and metal show venues accentuates the frustrating elements, the emotions riding on high, and the disappointment of filling a 5,000 capacity arena with a 112-person audience. The bleak “real world” of their home lives was almost enough to bring me to tears as they and the people that love them struggle to deal with a dream that should have died years and years ago. Like modern-day Don Quixotes, Anvil are always tilting at a multi-platinum record deal, and the financial and emotional tolls are severe. It’s enough to make you want to ask your local fast-food establishment employee what he once dreamed of becoming and how close he got.

But the beauty of the documentary is that behind all the struggle is a childlike hope and faith in the value of what they’re doing. In the genius of music. In the revelation of the creative process. It’s only sad if you adhere to what most of society defines as “success.” It’s clear that the members of Anvil believe strongly in that definition, but by all accounts they’ve already achieved some major feats – putting out upwards of a dozen albums, getting the recognition they deserve from members of metal’s elite, and getting to play in front of thousands of screaming fans. There’s a lot of joy in that – and that joy isn’t lost on Lips or the filmmakers. The Story of Anvil may feature more than its fair share of poignant, heartfelt, desperate moments, but it’s ultimately a simple story of two friends who refuse to quit on each other and who refuse to stop doing what they’re passionate about.

Oddly enough, with the success of this documentary, there’s a possibility that Anvil may enter back into the public conscious. I’ll admit to never hearing of them before the film (and to buying their album Metal on Metal because of it), but wouldn’t it be fitting if this film acted as their true last shot at stardom and actually paid off. It would be incredibly meta, but it also couldn’t happen to a more deserving crew of musical talent. Not bad for a documentary about a couple of rockers from Canada.

Review: Bahrani Masters Realism In ‘Goodbye Solo’

Robert Levin — Fri, 27 Mar 2009 15:39:49 +0000

In his prominent corner of the burgeoning cinematic movement that A.O. Scott recently dubbed neo-neo realism the Iranian-American filmmaker Ramin Bahrani is achieving something unmatched by his peers. Not only is he, in the best tradition of predecessors like Vittorio De Sica, making movies that empathetically depict real people facing real challenges in their unglamorous lives, he’s enhancing those stories with authorial, cinematic doses of humor, sadness and insight. To describe Goodbye Solo, which opens in limited release today, as just the story of the friendship between a cab driver and an elderly client is to fail to do justice to the scope of Bahrani’s directorial voice.

The film is about the bonds that connect us across the lines that divide us, no matter how entrenched and deeply rooted those lines might be. It brings together unlikely counterparts Solo (Souleymane Sy Savane), a Senegalese immigrant working as a taxi driver in Winston Salem, North Carolina, and a lonely old man named William (Red West), after the latter gets in his cab and offers him a lump sum to be driven in two weeks’ time to Blowing Rock, a mythical locale in the Blue Ridge Mountains wherein the wind blows objects skyward. At its core, in depicting the strong mutual affection that forms between these two mismatched souls, the film explores the challenges in truly connecting with another human and the ways so doing can affect one’s sense of self.

Bahrani rises above the realist surface trappings by imbuing the narrative with metaphysical overtones and remaining persistently focused on the emotional heart of the story. The otherworldly specter of Blowing Rock, and all that it signifies, looms over the picture. It attains added significance as things wear on and Solo wrestles with the burden placed on him by William, who never intends to leave the place after being left there. As the two weeks pass, the weight of the words left unsaid looms large. The gregarious Solo sets about charming William, trying desperately to convince him to salvage some hope in his life, only to be repeatedly pushed away. Steely eyed and roughshod, William won’t offer him any insight into the source of his burdens. His heart and soul have been sublimated beneath too much grief for that. Solo, a good man, must therefore reconsider his deeply held notions of the proper ways to express the kindness and compassion that comes so naturally to him.

Their scenes in the cab, which rely heavily on close-ups, shadows and the clear divide between the front and the back seats underscore the complicated dynamic at play. William’s desire to drift away, to spend his last two weeks tying up loose ends before disappearing is reflected in his reluctance to engage the enthused banter coming from the man behind the wheel. Bahrani and director of photography Michael Simmonds keep the camera trained on the faces of the actors throughout most of the picture. Savane is therefore well equipped to convey Solo’s increasing desperation without speaking, while the wrinkles and baggy eyes that demarcate West’s sad visage powerfully speak for themselves.

These actors, the first professionals Bahrani has worked with in a major capacity (the leads of Man Push Cart and Chop Shop, his prior two films, were amateurs) have been ideally cast. Bahrani prefers to operate at a still, unhurried pace, marked by a refusal to overemphasize the camerawork, which gives the actors ample room to expand on their portraits. Savane, appearing in his first movie, exudes charisma as the fast-talking, friendly Solo and shows off an impressive grasp of internalization techniques as the character continues losing his quest to dissuade William from his journey. West, once part of Elvis’s Memphis Mafia and a frequent presence in the worlds of film, television and music ever since summarizes a lifetime of experiences in a performance reliant solely on reactions, expressions and the sounds of the silences between others’ spoken words.

Goodbye Solo touches on what have become Bahrani’s characteristic themes, such as the frailties of the American Dream and its continued potency in the 21st century immigrant communities that operate like satellites orbiting a made, wealthy center. It’s an illuminating, refreshingly normal look at a man who works for a living, seen without condescension or haughty scorn. But what really sets the picture apart and makes it an achievement worth remembering is its transcendent faith in what Abraham Lincoln called “the better angels of our nature,” as personified in the relationship formed between Solo and William as the latter heads towards his final resting place.

SXSW Interview: Filmmaker Josephine Decker

Adam Sweeney — Tue, 24 Mar 2009 14:27:13 +0000

SXSW may be over but that won’t stop us from giving you coverage with some great interviews. This time we talk with Josephine Decker, co-writer and director of the music video Where Are You Going, Elena?

The video for Charlie Hewson’s Where Are You Going, Elena? is a hyper-stylized love story between a waitress and the world she works in. As Decker explains, “When Elena, a middle-aged waitress with love-lorn love handles, can’t take dishing up another plate of tater tots, she leaves her diner life forever. Or so she thinks. But the silverware has another plan. As plate after spatula after utensil hop after her, a new fate unfolds – Will she escape forever, or will the utensils win her back?” It’s a charming and memorable video that keeps both Hewson’s song and Decker’s vision and skills in your head long after the video is over.

Some of our favorite filmmakers have started getting their hands dirty by making music videos, David Fincher, Mark Romanek, Spike Jonze being a few on the rap sheet of those criminally genius directors. The art of making a music video is in some way more challenging and liberating than creating a feature length film. Josephine Decker, who also had her documentary Bi the Way screen at SXSW in 2008, understands this. Decker also understands the challenges of working in an environment that has for some time favored men. We talked about her latest music video, Where Are You Going, Elena? and got her thoughts on the song’s story, how filmmaking is a medium for feminism and the ups and downs of being a talented female filmmaker in the industry today.

Adam Sweeney: What made you take on this song? In terms of graphic images and conceptualization, what made you gravitate towards making the type of music video Where Are You Going, Elena? is?

Josephine Decker: I have been working for documentaries for five years pretty much since I was right out of college. When we finished the feature doc and were making our rounds at SXSW last year, I really wanted to do something more creative that broadcast my imagination more. Docs are great but reality is reality and you’re not supposed to change it hopefully. (Laughs.) So making Where Are You Going, Elena? is something I’ve been wanting to do for a while. My friend, Charlie Hewson, does a lot of quirky songs on his Myspace, Myspace.com/CharlieHewsonmusic, that are sad songs for happy people who like sad songs. (AS and JD laugh.) He has a very strange aesthetic.

So this song is about a waitress who runs away from her diner life. She is sick of it. It features some really funny imagery and lyrics, like, ‘She spreads her egg white wings to fly,” and you can tell in the song he is very much in love with this waitress. The waitress is actually a real waitress. She’s this sixty-year-old woman that works at the diner down our street. She’s not very attractive, she is tiny and has a hunchback. But she has a beautiful heart and is always giving us free orange juices. (Laughs.) But the video is wacky and has that diner feel, the real 50’s feel of everyone knowing your name. When we were conceiving the idea for it we decided that all the plates, forks and utensils in the diner that have this infatuation with her would chase after her through the streets of Brooklyn.

So part one of the video happens by the diner. We used stop motion animation to show the utensils paying attention to her. When she leaves all of the utensils go crazy and three especially intrepid silverware items run after her. A spatula, a pepper shaker and a plate. When they leave they transform into giant people in silverware costumes. In terms of the aesthetic, that is kind of a genre I am interested in working in. My favorite movie is Babe. I’d love to make films like that, something that is live action but integrates a really hyper-aesthetic animation. That is the style I went for with the video. It’s all live action with a bit of stop motion and surreal costumes. The utensils eventually do win her back after pursuing her, so Elena does return to the diner because she now feels appreciated and respected.

I think that’s all waitresses are really asking for. That and a good tip. I have always been fascinated with the idea of bringing life to inanimate objects or to speechless animals. It is an extension of real life. The relationship you build with a waiter or waitress at a restaurant directly impacts your mood there. So it makes sense that you would see these condiments and utensils have built a relationship with Elena. You mention a love for the hyper-aesthetic. What were you trying to achieve with the video? It’s a quirky video but is charming in its effort to show attention to a person, the waitress, who is so often passed over and disregarded. What do you think the message is?

That is something I have been going through in my life as I move away from documentaries. I am still pretty young, I’m twenty-seven, but it feels like I am late in the game to be making this change. That is what I love about the song. You have this middle-aged waitress who says, “You know what? I demand more from my life, my work and my utensils.” (Laughs.) To me, that is a call for a new type of feminism.

Growing up in Texas, I have learned a lot about women’s issues, how we are perceived next to men and where our careers go in comparison to them. How much do we make, how much do they make? I think we have come so far. I do feel like I am in a world where some of these issues aren’t my issues but there are still tons of issues for women, like whether we like it or not we have to look for help to do what we want to do. To have a good job or family you actually need a hand. That can come from different places. For Elena, I think she is feeling, “I have just worked so hard and I want to be respected and admired for what I do. I don’t want to feel degraded or beaten down. So her salvation comes from these utensils who care about her, love her and want to work for her. In some ways, Beyonce singing Single Ladies is a call to say we want men who will work for us. Men we can come home to at the end of the day. It’s not just about men who give us independence. It’s also about men who give us support. It’s funny that it translates into a video about silverware but I do think of the silverware as lovers or admirers at least.

What I see in a world where equality is happening is the need to band together, whether it is women sticking together or finding partners to accomplish the goal. That is something that has really changed. We don’t really need each other in a physical sense. You can contact everyone you know through your phone or computer. You’re not around people anymore. I think that hands on approach is something that is being called for in the new feminism.

As we get closer in social networking, we are actually moving away from each other. We’re killing the means of interpersonal communication. Everyone is focused on themselves. One hundred years ago, that would be impossible. You make an excellent point that feminism is about equality and women asserting their right to be treated the same, but it is also important for males to understand their role in the scheme of things. There has been progress but if someone were to come to me and say, “Minorities, in regards of sex or race, are on an even playing field,” I would have to say that is clearly false. We’re making progress but there’s a long way to go. You use media to discuss that.

You mention your role as a documentarian. Can you talk a bit about that?

It’s funny. You were mentioning community and that is why I love the SXSW film festival. You get this amazing conglomeration of every type of person. It’s an interactive, music and film festival. You’re meeting press and distributors, people you can collaborate across these divides of media. To finish the last point, the loss of community as a whole can be changed by film festivals. You can meet people face to face. It’s so hard to get your film seen if you’re sending it through the internet or in a box. Someone maybe will see it or won’t. So these things actually build the community of filmmakers. That is super important, particularly for female filmmakers that aren’t featured as prominently as they should be.

Bi the Way was a film that I co-directed with Britney Blockman and out producer was Martha Shane. It was based in New York and it was an amazing time to get a film off the ground. It’s airing on the Logo Network, which is MTV’s gay and lesbian network. If you have basic cable you can watch it. It will be on mid-July or early August, so keep your eye out for that. We have an amazing soundtrack. We went through all the hoops to make that happen. All our films have been through Brooklyn and friends know lots of independent musicians. They gave us very reduced prices. We have The Department of Eagles, The Submarines, The Weepies, Four Tet, MGMT. I could go on and on. It’s a super soundtrack. It’s an example of how community can really make our artists’ life a lot easier.

What do you think could be a reason there aren’t more female filmmakers being recognized. Why aren’t we seeing an outreach to lift up female filmmakers. If someone said, “Name famous female filmmakers,” most people would say Sofia Coppola and then there’s … does Penny Marshall count? (AS and JD laugh.)

I have thought a lot about that. American Psycho was directed by a female. That’s such an interesting, creepy movie. Females are addressing films in a very unique and comedic way. I do agree that you just don’t hear about them as often. I think for any filmmaker it takes time to build to their masterpiece. It may take one movie, it might take ten, but eventually you’re going to make a great film. I think for most people that is when they are in their thirties or forties, after they’ve made their mistakes. With women I think they get at that age and want to have a family. That is incredibly hard to do when making films. I know lots of female doc makers but not many female narrative ones. With a narrative you really have to dedicate your whole life for a couple of months. It is hard to find balance with that world. I think possibly, I don’t know, docs are almost more stable because you’re dealing with reality. You know if you think you can make your money back. Narrative films require more risk and require a bigger budget, although recently doc budgets have gone up. I think that is going to go back down though since docs aren’t selling like they were.

There are great female filmmakers working but they are few and far between. Even here at the festival I look around, I was at the music video panel, which I suggest you see all twenty of them. They’re amazing. But I was the only female director, which I didn’t expect. I was sort of surprised. I have met a few female filmmakers here but we have some obstacles in our way. One of the obstacles probably is that there aren’t enough role models saying you can do this.

I think female filmmakers are unfortunately looked at by some people as a novelty. I think there is less room for error.

That is a really good point. I hadn’t even thought about that. It’s like if a girl messes up, someone goes, “Oh, see. Girls aren’t good filmmakers.”

Right! Going back to Sofia Coppola, you look at Virgin Suicides and Lost in Translation. Everyone was holding her up. Then she makes Marie Antoinette and people are like, “Eh, I am done with that.” But George Lucas is allowed to make Howard the Duck? (AS and JD laugh.) I mean it’s funny but I don’t think it’s meant to be funny. But because he has money and because he, let’s be honest, is a man he is allowed to have that voice. Sofia has to work her way back up the ladder.

Definitely.

Well next time we talk, hopefully when Bi the Way airs, we hope more female filmmakers are getting the credit they deserve. Thanks a lot for the interview.

Thanks.

For more of the best damn coverage of the 2009 SXSW Film Festival, check out our SXSW ‘09 Homepage.

SXSW Review: Bomber

Rob Hunter — Mon, 23 Mar 2009 16:07:05 +0000

My dad disappeared on a camping trip to the Thousand Islands when I was a boy… my grandfather and I had to go home without him. That story is too long to relate here (and it’s already been told in detail elsewhere on the interweb), but the point is I’m no stranger to father/son issues. So much so that one of the very few images in a movie guaranteed to squeeze some water from my eyes is any scene involving a crying father. (That and penis violence… although I should clarify the two are not connected in any way.) So to get back on point here, I identify with films featuring fathers and sons unable or unwilling to communicate, and one of this year’s better films to attempt that theme is Bomber. It’s one half of a great movie and only becomes less than that when the father/son dynamic slips from focus.

Ross (Shane Taylor) wakes up early one day to see his parents off on their road trip through Europe. Alistair (Benjamin Whitrow) and Valerie (Eileen Nicholas) are heading to Germany for some unknown reason, but after much careful planning and organization the trip risks cancellation when he accidentally drives the car straight into the garage wall. Ross agrees to chauffeur his parents as he sees no other option, but in doing so he incurs the wrath of his girlfriend Leslie (Sara Kessel). Father and son have disagreements both spoken and unspoken that mar the drive, and frantic calls from Leslie, Valerie’s repeated desire to veer from the itinerary, and Alistair’s requirement that they stay on back roads instead of highways all help to increase the trio’s tension and judgments. As tightly wound as the van’s riders are the film manages to keep things moving briskly with wonderful and unexpected bits of humor. Alistair’s motivation for the trip finally becomes clear when they reach the small town in Germany (he holds a black & white photograph of the town taken sixty years ago from a bomber plane high above), but that clarity starts to extend to the family as well resulting in revelations to each other and to themselves.

The film’s narrative strength rests mainly with the story between Alistair and Ross, and they invigorate the road trip (and the first half of the film) giving it much of its life, value, and laughs. The father lacks the will or capability to show warmth and love, and the son is a modern day male taught via therapy and daytime TV to be open and emotional. They clash together beautifully, but around the time they reach the German town that focus shifts to Alistair’s quest and his equally wanting relationship with Valerie. The trip’s purpose is an interesting one and results in a humorous and heartfelt scene in a furniture store, but nothing truly dramatic comes of it. And while the plot’s redirection towards Alistair and Valerie isn’t entirely without foreshadowing, it still comes at the expense of the father/son storyline. Ross’ role changes from believable and invested son to blind mediator and he (and those of us in his shoes) are left empty handed.

Director/writer Paul Cotter spoke after the screening and was asked about one of the film’s final lines. It’s three simple but jarring words spoken from one character to another, and it hits like a punch to the gut. Cotter explained (and defended) those three emotionally wrought words valiantly, but unsuccessfully (to this viewer at least, others in attendance seemed convinced). It’s especially harsh and unexpected after the glorious speech given by another character just moments before. I can see Cotter’s defense making sense on paper, but with living, breathing characters up on the screen the moment becomes bigger than his intention. It ends the film on a rather strange and unfinished note.

Despite this unfortunate and unresolved bit of dialogue, Bomber is still a fine film. Three fantastic performances anchor it with the standout being Whitrow and his properly British stiff upper lip. Cotter has crafted a family that many of us can relate to for better or worse in a situation that many of us would dread… a long distance car ride with your parents in the back seat. You’ll laugh and possibly cry with them, and while you may feel a bit frustrated with their behavior – in the end you’ll also miss them when they’re gone. Cotter’s writing and the three fine performances will ensure that they stay with you well after the credits roll, and that is no easy accomplishment.

SXSW Review: Lesbian Vampire Killers

Rob Hunter — Mon, 23 Mar 2009 15:43:16 +0000

A title like Lesbian Vampire Killers makes certain promises to the viewer. Most obvious is the holy titular trinity of sexy lesbians, blood-sucking vampires, and multiple killings. And while you may not know for sure if you’ll be seeing hot lesbians staking vampires or hot lesbian vampires getting staked, you really can’t go wrong either way. The one remaining guarantee implied by a title like this is that you should expect plenty of laughs, and while they may be of the campy variety they should at least be intentional. So expectations in place, I attended last week’s SXSW premiere ready for tittering and titillation. And I was not disappointed… for the first twenty minutes anyway.

Jimmy and Fletch are two friends in need of a vacation. Jimmy (Matthew Horne) just had his heart broken by his serial dumper of a girlfriend. Allow me to re-phrase… his girlfriend Judy (Lucy Gaskell) has dumped him several times already, and has now done it again to take up with another man. Fletch (James Corden) has just recently lost his job as a party clown because he punched a little shit in the face. The two of them drown their sorrows in a bar and decide to throw a dart at a map of Great Britain… they’ll take a camping trip wherever the dart lands, and that wherever ends up being the tiny town of Cragwich. Once there they stop at a pub with clientèle slightly warmer than those found at The Slaughtered Lamb and are given directions to accommodations deep in the forest. Of course the locals neglect to mention the curse that hangs over Cragwich, the curse that turns all girls on their eighteenth birthday into lesbian vampires, the curse to which Jimmy may hold the key…

There aren’t any surprises to be found in Lesbian Vampire Killers, and what you expect is pretty much what you get. Throw in a van full of European hotties, a constant stream of quips and jokes, a gaggle of lesbian vampires trying to resurrect their long dead queen, and a vicar (Paul McGann) crusading against the vampires in an effort to protect his own daughter on the cusp of her eighteenth birthday, and you have a film that moves at a fairly quick and breezy pace for its entire ninety minutes. The problem is that while the film offers sex appeal, vampire action, and laughs, only the humor can keep up that pace.

Let’s start with the sex shall we? It starts off strong with some very fine and and very nude vampire chicks cleaning each others teeth and breasts with their tongues, but the visual splendor doesn’t last. After these brief opening scenes the lesbian vampires turn prudish with both their bodies and their pubic displays of affection. Clothes stay on and the girls start kissing each other like their hearts just aren’t in it anymore… it’s sad really. And the vampire violence fares even worse. Presumably in order to avoid issue with the film ratings board there’s nary a drop of blood in the entire film. When our heroes splay, skewer, or behead one of the vampires we’re treated to a geyser of milky white spooge in place of crimson arterial sprays. It provides a few easy laughs, but it’s not as satisfying as it should have been. It doesn’t help that half of the onscreen jizz is CGI… and the CGI in this movie is terrible. The film uses quite a bit of it too (CGI, not jizz) and it looks ridiculously bad almost every time.

After the sex appeal goes limp and the action is revealed as tepid and sticky, the film’s success comes to rest on the comedy… and luckily the writing and performances are consistently pretty funny. Horne and Corden have honed their comedic skills and chemistry on the successful British TV show, “Gavin & Stacey” and the upcoming (and creatively named) “Horne & Corden.” The pair work off each other quite well, and even if comparisons to Simon Pegg and Nick Frost prove apt it doesn’t lessen their comedic appeal. McGann also packs in the laughs as the foul-mouthed and incredibly serious vicar. Lesbian Vampire Killers is definitely worth a watch, but it won’t find a home in the pantheon of classic horror comedies like An American Werewolf In London and Return Of The Living Dead. The only real guarantee the film follows through on is in providing ninety minutes of light comedy. You’ll chuckle a bit, you’ll see a few boobies, you’ll wonder why a house would have a fantastic walk-in shower but no toilet, and you’ll go home and google the girl who actually uses that fine walk-in shower, but that’s pretty much it.

SXSW Review: Modern Love is Automatic

Adam Sweeney — Sat, 21 Mar 2009 22:58:56 +0000

Desperation, a dominatrix and detachment in relationships. Zach Clark brings them all in Modern Love is Automatic, one of the best films of SXSW.

You can see Modern Love is Automatic Saturday, March 21st at the Alamo Drafthouse on South Lamar in Austin, Texas, and at the Boston Underground Film Festival.

At first glance, Modern Love is Automatic may come across to a viewer as a chance to look into the sadistic lifestyle of a dominatrix and the world around it. That would be reason enough for some people to see the film. However, writer/director Zach Clark chooses to go another route and the result is a one of a kind journey into a woman’s life that is smothered by a lack of satisfaction. Modern Love is Automatic is not a film concerned with the role sex plays in our lives. It rejects the opportunity to draw audiences in with the cheap thrill of sexual imagery and takes the road less traveled. That choice allows Modern Love to be a film unlike others.

The tagline for the film is “Beyond apathy” and the film comes through on the promise. Lorraine (Melodie Sisk) is a nurse that is unhappy with the life she leads. After an unfortunate encounter with her boyfriend and his new love interest, she takes in a new roommate, Adrian (Maggie Ross), who aspires to be a model in spite of her inexperience. Looking for a catalyst that will offer excitement, Lorraine takes a job as a dominatrix and initially enjoys the power she has over her clients. However, the charge that she gets from such a scandalous position soon wears off and Lorraine is left to deal with the numbness she feels towards everyone and everything around her.

Melodie Sisk is an actress you need to be looking out for in the near future (There are actually many actresses in the film who you need to have on your radar). Her performance as Lorraine is remarkably restrained, allowing us to do most of the work throughout the film. Instead of amplifying her emotions on a vocal and physical level, Sisk tells us everything we need to know about her character in her eyes and facial expressions. At moments we are allowed to get close to her, but not before Lorraine pulls back. She is a character that we want to understand and our inability to do so parallels the frustration Lorraine feels herself. In short, Sisk gives a beautiful performance as a woman who finds difficulty in attaching herself emotionally to her surroundings.

The supporting actresses help build a wall around Lorraine. Maggie Ross captures a wonderful naivete in her approach to playing Lorraine’s roommate, Adrian. She is admirable in her optimism and you feel for her when her dreams and relationships fall around her. In the hands of other actresses, Adrian could have come across as a cartoon character. Adrian does the character justice and never pulls us too far in the direction toward one emotional territory.

Diana Cherkas also stands out as Emily, Lorraine’s co-worker with a seemingly picture perfect partner. You could imagine “Going to the Chapel” playing in her scenes as she gushes about her saccharine sweet fiance. Clark allows her to have a substantial scene later in the film that allows Emily to transcend the two-dimensional character her type would usually be in lesser films.

All three of the aforementioned characters are given scenes to have emotional breakdowns or breakthroughs, proving that Clark is sensitive to and capable of writing from the female perspective. It’s worth noting that Clark has said this film is as close to an autobiography as he has ever written. What moviegoers need to understand is that emotions aren’t exclusive to one sex or the other. Sometimes it makes more sense for a male to tell his story through the voice of a female and vice verse. Clark understands this and his story shines through.

The film does suffer a little bit because of a lack of strong male characters that we can relate to. Nearly every man in the film comes across as trashy, twisted or submissive to Lorraine’s personality. We’re willing to forgive this for the fact that there aren’t enough films that focus entirely on the wants and needs of women, particularly a woman so complex as Lorraine.

Clark has channeled the vision of Douglas Sirk and made a stylized film that finds new ways to convey the emotional chaos within. If you’re looking for sex and hyper-stylization, Modern Love is Automatic is not the film for you. This is a case where you can’t judge a book by its cover. We can leave films that want to gag you with color to Baz Luhrmann. Through the color choices of pastels, neons and a soundtrack (almost entirely composed by Blasphemer) that jars you out of the scene, Clark challenges us to understand the contradiction between Lorraine and Adrian’s actions and their endeavors to understand why the world doesn’t make sense to them.

Whether the payoff at the end of the film works for the moviegoer is up to interpretation. It definitely was noteworthy and affecting to us, probably one of the most tender scenes in film that we have seen in some time. That’s saying a lot considering Clark has painted a canvas filled with characters living lives of grey and turned it into a film filled with fluorescent frustration. Modern Love is Automatic isn’t a film for everyone. If it were that type of film, we wouldn’t have any desire to see it. It will affect you on an emotional and sensory level. The question is whether you are honest enough with yourself to accept the challenge.

For more of the best damn coverage of the 2009 SXSW Film Festival, check out our SXSW ‘09 Homepage.

Review: Sin Nombre Will Knock the Wind Out of You

Dr. Cole Abaius — Sat, 21 Mar 2009 04:05:52 +0000

When I normally think of a road trip movie, it involves three or four drunken college types dragging down Keystones and going on wacky adventures while they seek out the girl of their dreams/an easy lay/nothing at all in particular. The other variation involves a journey of self discovery and as many mind-expanding drugs as possible. But as odd as it seems, Sin Nombre is a road trip movie that happens to take place on top of a train with one hundred or so immigrants attempting to subvert the harshness of life in exchange for the ability to create something better. One could define it as an immigration film, if it absolutely needed to be defined at all, but if it is – it’s one of very few immigration films that eschews politics and focuses more on the things that people are leaving and less on the place that they’re headed. More so, it’s a movie about discovery, leaving something behind, and growing in the journey.

Sayra (Paulina Gaitan) is a teenage girl reuniting with her father to join him on a trek from Honduras to a dream life in the United States. Willy (Edgar Flores) is a member of Mara Salvatrucha, a ruthless Mexico City gang, who has just recruited 12-year old Smiley (Kristian Ferrer) to a life of patrolling territory, hanging out with homies, and killing their enemies. When the leader of MS kills Willy’s girlfriend, he defies the gang and has to escape on the immigrant train headed for the United States border.

What results from a fairly straight-forward premise is an brutal, sharp look at two people struggling against the confinement of their social situations. For Willy, life in the gang is inevitable. In order to eat, to have a family, to have an income he has to give himself to the group mentality and the leadership that demands unyielding strength and violent ethics. Interestingly, Sayra’s situation is never fully fleshed out which gives the impression that the move is not entirely her choice – a move that happens to work very well within the character arc.

The gravity of the story is punctuated by moments of sweetness – Willy visiting his girlfriend, Sayra offering Willy some food on the train, his promising to be there with her even after she crosses. Somehow, a rose grows up amongst the thorns.

What first-time director Cary Fukunaga has done is to create a beautiful love story between two friends that emerge from some of the worst possible conditions. In fact, those harsh conditions encapsulate the film – they are a constant presence even as the characters race toward the perceived boundaries, aching to cross over into another life where not only does the grass seem to be greener, there actually seems to be grass. In this way, he leaves politics at the door while also deeply humanizing the immigration process. To make the subject matter even more rounded (especially for American audiences who may walk into the theater with pre-conceived notions whatever they may be) Fukunaga has written a story that investigates and portrays the brutish reality of immigration at the southern Mexico/Guatemala border and within Mexico itself.

Woven together with deftness, the film shows several confrontations within and between the gangs that burn themselves into memory. Yet, the scenes are never rushed. In particular, the scene between gang leader Lil Mago (Tenoch Huerta) and Willy’s girlfriend Martha Marlene (Diana Garcia) holds a sense of foreboding from the moment that it begins and builds slowly until he pushes her, pulls back on the rear of her jeans, and does what you know he’s been planning since he first starts talking to her. That and many other scenes are built not with the haste of an amateur filmmaker, but with the expertise of a more well-seasoned veteran.

Of course, much of the credit also goes to the actors handling their roles with dark honesty and a sense of simplicity. There is never any pretense or overstatement of the violence – it is treated with the severity that it deserves and nothing more. Although Edgar Flores is the focal point of the movie and handles the character with skill, the movie’s real stand out is Paulina Gaitan who can say more with a bat of her eyelashes than most actors can do with a full monologue.

The look of the film is beautifully disgusting. Much of Mexico City’s poorest areas pour onto the screen with the mange and disease that one would expect. The rust of the train yard, the dirt-caked housing, the grind of the countryside. You can almost smell the landscape. This is contrasted by wide-scoping shots on top of the train as it crawls along the track through some beautiful areas, but even the goal of the film – the river crossing into Texas – isn’t stylized or glorified. At the end of the trail, the two adventurers are headed for a brown body of nearly standing water surrounded by prickly mesquite trees and dead coyotes.

It could easily be a slow-moving, quiet piece that tries too hard to add gravity to the characters with longing looks and silent conversations. Luckily, it’s got a ton of action and violence in it so that when a quiet moment does occur it has far more weight than it might have.

Sweet, severe and haunting, Sin Nombre is a story about hope for people that shouldn’t even know the word. It tells an endearing story, shares the lives of two compassionate yet real characters, and offers a sense of what life for some is like. It’s difficult to believe this is a first feature attempt. Fukunaga is certainly a director to be on the look out for in the future, and I for one will anxiously be awaiting his next project.

For more of the best damn coverage of the 2009 SXSW Film Festival, check out our SXSW ‘09 Homepage.

SXSW Review: The Hurt Locker

Dr. Cole Abaius — Fri, 20 Mar 2009 21:24:29 +0000

Two days after seeing The Hurt Locker, I’m sitting her poised at my computer screen staring blankly off into the middle nothing trying to figure out how to frame a review for it. I’ve got nothing. What I wish I had was about two more weeks to let the movie fully sink in, getting the weight of it directly off my chest in order to step out away from it enough to realize what I’ve experienced.

Of course, this statement alone and the difficulty I’m having putting words together speaks volumes for the film. I can say this: The Hurt Locker is the best film I’ve seen all year. I know it’s still early on, but three months in, this is the one to beat. It’s a complete package of strong, yet minimal writing, seasoned directing, and some of the best acting that this year will most likely see.

Staff Sergeant William James (Jeremy Renner) is joining Bravo Company alongside Sergeant JT Sanborn (Anthony Mackie) and Specialist Owen Eldridge (Brian Geraghty) with a little over a month to go in their rotation. They’re an EOD squad – investigating and disabling bombs in Baghdad, a city where the threats blend in with the civilians. As the rotation nears its end, the men have to deal seriously with the devastation of knowing that they could die at any moment and the strength to face that danger head on.

In a very real sense, this movie is the first of its kind. The first boots-on-the-ground Iraq War film. It immediately places the audience in the dusty streets of Baghdad and refuses to let anyone leave until the end. What the film does most effectively – as a credit to the brilliant screenwriting of Mark Boal, whose experiences while embedded as a journalist in Iraq have shaped the story with authenticity – is to force the audience to feel the intense, exhaustive duty of existing in a foreign environment and waking up every morning with the very real possibility of being gunned down or being turned into human shrapnel by a relentless enemy. Complementing this, director Katherine Bigelow’s vision paired with Barry Ackroyd’s cinematography truly embeds the audience as the fourth man in the Humvee with the soldiers.

Bigelow has created an apprehensive feel by consistently creating boundaries. We’re inside a cramped Humvee. We’re within the confined space of the thin Iraqi streets. We’re within the safe zone blast perimeter dismantling a bomb. This theme is bolstered by a script that introduces us to characters without ever revealing all that much about them. By the end of the film, you intimately know each of the men through their actions, gaining very little in the way of personal details in exchange for something much, much deeper.

This is all mirrored by the structure of the film. Instead of a traditional narrative arc, Bigelow and company opt for showing mission after mission with a few breath-catching moments expertly placed in between. The bulk of the film is a single story told over and over again with different dangers, different details, and different dimensions. It creates this austere environment – confined but not claustrophobic – that displays the relentlessness of the job that those soldiers are undertaking. Every day is the same even if the details change.

Of course on top of this solid foundation is the acting talent, a group that elevates the subject matter in the strongest way possible. Anthony Mackie already garnered a well-deserved Indie Spirit Award nomination last year, but the real standout is Jeremy Renner. Renner’s performance is visceral and dynamic, building a character one edge at a time until a cowboy becomes a greatly well-rounded expert in a desolate, lonely world. His portrayal deserves strong recognition, if not a few award nominations of his own. Sergeant James has a fire within him, and Renner is as explosive as the IEDs his team is working to disengage. There’s a very real parallel there – while clipping wires and disarming heavy metal objects that could take out city blocks, Renner’s James is constantly trying to suppress his own heightened nature although not always successfully.

The last important feature to mention is the clever use of the known acting talent. Bigelow scores a major win by casting Guy Pierce, Ralph Feinnes, and David Morse in smaller roles. Somehow, it breathes a lot of life into the production by placing the focus on some younger, lesser-known talent while the seasoned veterans build upon the value at several key points along the way.

The scoring is sparse but strong. The editing is fantastic – especially a scene involving a man with a bomb strapped to his chest. The story is a fascinatingly engaging one that benefits from brilliant camera work and noteworthy performances all the way around. Make no mistake – this will be a hard film to watch for most anyone, but it’s well worth it. It’s above all else an action film, but it utilizes the characters and stories coming out of Baghdad in a way that no other movie has done so far and in a way that honors men and women that have an extremely dangerous, extremely integral job.

Most of all, it achieves all of this without even once getting political. It doesn’t even edge up close. It’s a story about people, and the cast and crew never lose sight of that or attempt to inject any ulterior meaning into the narrative. It’s refreshing considering the alternatives, but the filmmakers were smart and confident enough to realize how fascinating their subject matter was and enough to avoid artificially dressing it up in the heavy shroud of political clamoring.

I imagine with a few more weeks to digest everything I’ve seen – and there are some sickeningly intense moments – I might be able to come up with better ways of characterizing a film that defies several conventions, but for now, all I can really say is that if you have a chance to see it, you shouldn’t hesitate to do so.

For more of the best damn coverage of the 2009 SXSW Film Festival, check out our SXSW ‘09 Homepage.

SXSW Video Interview: Grieving and Giving Back in ‘Motherland’

Dr. Cole Abaius — Fri, 20 Mar 2009 21:01:59 +0000

So far as SXSW we’ve got to watch some incredible films, a few crappy ones, and we’ve gotten to speak with some talented filmmakers about the process behind their projects. During all of the noise and chaos that’s descended on FSR’s home base, I got a rare few hours by myself at the office while the crew was either napping, catching another round of flicks, or wandering around the office complex looking for his spirit animal. It’s a long story.

During that few hours, I tossed in a screener for Motherland, and within about ten minutes I was glad that I got to watch it alone. Because I was crying. Also because the other staff writers – and especially Neil – punish any signs of weakness with intense hazing and mockery.

The movie focuses on six women, five of whom have lost a child and one who has lost a brother – as they travel to South Africa in order to volunteer. It’s an examination of the grieving process, the intense devastation of loss, and a psuedo-experiment into what happens when you place those who understand personal loss in an environment where children die every day. Crying is allowed.

I got a chance to talk to the director/producer/editor of the film, Jennifer Steinman who had a lot to say about the difficulties of organizing such an emotional project and the aspirations she has for it. Of course, we had this deep conversation in the lobby of the Hilton here in beautiful downtown Austin (because it has the best muzak and because we like to keep things professionally unprofessional).

Check it out:

For more of the best damn coverage of the 2009 SXSW Film Festival, check out our SXSW ‘09 Homepage.

SXSW Interview: ‘Overbrook Brothers’ Director John Bryant

Adam Sweeney — Fri, 20 Mar 2009 06:48:08 +0000

There are very few relationships that offer such great potential for humor and discovery like a sibling rivalry, John Bryant understands this and offers a hilarious road-trip story in The Overbrook Brothers, a film screening at SXSW.

You can check out The Overbrook Brothers Saturday, March 21st at 10:00 p.m at the Paramount Theater in Austin, Texas.

In The Overbrook Brothers, two siblings, Nathan (Jason Harlan) and Todd (Mark Reeb), childishly fight for higher ranking in their father’s eyes. When they realize they are both adopted, they go looking for answers, initially on their own but eventually ending up forced to pair up. Their journey reveals a deeper understanding that you don’t have to be blood related to be considered family.

John Bryant, who co-wrote and directed the film, is an Austin native and was cool enough to answer some questions for us about the film. He’s also a huge Rambo fan so we have to give him props for that.

Adam Sweeney: You made a bold move by focusing the film on the two brothers for almost the entire film. Tell us a little about that.

John Bryant: It breaks convention. I think audiences have certain expectations and they can anticipate things. When we were writing it, I had a big chunk of the middle and had given it to my co-writer, Jason [Foxworth]. I told him that something wasn’t working. Originally we had the first half, I said I want the couple to get on the road, they’re never going to take Todd with them but they get stuck in the car together. What happens then?

Jason and his brother had been through something similar in the freeze-out scene but it was actually a bunch of guys on a ski trip that went on for like eight hours. (AS and JB laugh.) It was pretty ridiculous and it was so funny. I told him it would be great if we could include that. Jason was like, “I don’t know any girl that would stick around after that.” I was like, “You’re right. Fuck it. Let’s let her go,” because that was the only way that I felt like she would stay a real character. The more I thought about it, it made more sense. All the women around them when they’re together as a unit go by the wayside. The mom was smart enough to get the hell out. Todd’s short-term girlfriend, she leaves the same night. Shelly (Laurel Whitsett) stays around because they were in a long-term relationship. She hung on for a few extra days. [laughter] Then she wizened up. Getting to the meat of the story was about these two, a common purpose.

In the freeze-out scene, maybe it’s because I am a Star Wars fanatic, I felt like there were lots of Star Wars references. I just felt like Todd was turning into Emperor Palpatine! (Laughs)

That’s exactly what it was. We did another one where I thought it would be funny, you know because Todd is trying to psychologically destroy his brother. He is messing with him. We had another one that didn’t make the cut that references to Titanic where Todd tells Shelly, “You must go on. You must carry on. Promise you’ll never let go.” But once we started stripping away the fat and getting to the essence of the scene, we cut it. When we shot that, it was nine degrees.

Wow.

We were trying to start up the car and two hours into the scene that radiator on the piece of shit car blew up. Basically they were stuck for the next eight hours and forced to brave the elements.

That was in Colorado, right?

Yeah, it was in Colorado. We would head up to the mountains right before you get to Idaho Springs and there was this brand new four lane road. It was well lit and nobody drives on it. I thought that was a good one. It goes to this mining town that has been turned into a gambling center. That’s where we shot it.

You mentioned going against the grain. The film kind of flips expectations on their head by focusing on the two brothers. It’s so weird because they contrast and you have called it a sibling rivalry on steroids. They can’t get enough of antagonizing each other, but I loved how they find answers to the questions in their life through each other. What gave you the idea to make that kind of story?

I am a big believed that things should play on a surface level. The theme is these two guys who are the least favorite sons and compete in this pecking order, so a rivalry starts because of overt favoritism in their family. So they never have had common ground, they’re always vying for affection. When they find out that they really don’t have anything in common, they finally actually have something in common. On the journey, they realize they are the closest thing they will have in terms of family. The whole journey shows that they can actually be friends for the first ever, which is ironic because it is after they realize they aren’t actual brothers. I thought that was interesting.

Absolutely. If this film had been made twenty years ago, I think it would have stood out as an anomaly over the adoption subject. Now that there are so many divorces and broken homes, I know I come from a single family. It was great to talk to people that can relate to the film. It’s not a stretch. It was real.

How did you come up with the idea for Jason’s story? (Jason writes a script calls Hearts on Fire. It chronicles a gay love story in Medieval times.) One of my favorite lines is when the character yells, “What were you thinking, man?”

The what were you thinking man came from an audition. That wasn’t in there to begin with. It was just the part about non-coital intercourse of an anal nature. (AS laughs.) We encouraged improvisation when we were auditioning and some of those ideas made it into the film. Mark Pouhe plays the priest and you know something is amiss. I mean the story is about crusaders but the guy’s a black dude. You’re like, “What’s going on? What the hell is this?”

(Laughs) Yeah.

That was something Mark improvised and I thought it was great. I’ve written a lot of stories and sometimes you go on a path, invest a lot of time and you see something in it, but then you realize it wasn’t a good idea. One day I was remodeling my dad’s kitchen and we were talking. My dad’s a writer and so I asked, “What is the worst idea you could think of for a story?” He, without missing a beat, says, ” A don’t ask, don’t tell parable about Medieval crusaders.” I thought was really funny. Don’t ask, don’t tell in the fifteenth century. So it kind of evolved. You get to see how it progresses when Todd takes over.

(Laughs) Right.

He does his own version. It also gets back to the question of what is acceptable in today’s society with guys expressing affection without it being considered gay. The whole homophobia thing. Todd is totally homophobic. I didn’t make any apologies for it because I know plenty of guys like that. He is what he is. So he is really pent up and being able to express any type of sentiment questions his issue of masculinity.

Though their fictional stories, you see who they really are. Jason is more passive and sensitive but Todd, he shows somewhat of a sensitive side–

He holds the guy up and makes him take bullets.

(Laughs) Right! He uses the guy as a freaking shield! I liked that. Through telling a story in the story, we learn more about the characters.

Todd’s motivation is that he always wanted to be connected to Jason and his life. The way he infuses himself into Jason’s life, the underpinning is a sense of desperate need for love. He doesn’t have anybody.

But he is too macho to come out and say, “Hey, let’s be cool.” That would be gay to him.

I don’t know if you’ve had a relationship or seen two brothers or a dad and son that are real tight but never say, “I love you.” It’s a strange thing.

It definitely works. SXSW is all about building a sense of community. What films have you been wanting to check out?

I saw Moon, which I really liked. Breaking Upwards was terrific. I thought it was well acted, well written and well directed. I liked the screenplay. Daryl Wein is really talented. I look forward to seeing Bomber. I’ve heard great things about Alexander the Last, so I am definitely looking forward to seeing it. Beeswax, Andrew Bujalski gets great performances out of his cast.

What are the plans next for Overbrook Brothers?

We are doing the festival circuit. We just finished the film three weeks ago, so hopefully we can play across the country and hopefully overseas.

It’s definitely a film people need to see. Thanks for the interview.

Thanks.

For more of the best damn coverage of the 2009 SXSW Film Festival, check out our SXSW ‘09 Homepage.

SXSW Interview: Director Ondi Timoner Explains How ‘We Live in Public’

Dr. Cole Abaius — Thu, 19 Mar 2009 20:59:34 +0000

Usually I don’t do transcriptions of interviews because I think they’re boring. Plain and simple. But after attempting to digest Ondi Timoner’s documentary We Live in Public and having a chance to talk to her about where I disagree with her, it became clear that I wasn’t going to be able to simply write this in the normal style that I attack interviews.

We Live in Public is the story of Joshua Harris – an internet pioneer who was one of the first to broadcast internet TV, was one of the first to put cameras into his own home to broadcast his life 24-hours a day, and is possibly an insane person. Anyone who has even heard the term ‘internet’ should watch the documentary. It’s interesting, has the ability to create heated arguments and might be a decent cautionary tale if not just a little hyperbolic. It also might be right about the future. Unless it’s wrong.

For context, the bunker she mentions is an artistic, non-scientific experiment called Quiet done by Joshua Harris to see what happens when people freely agree to live under constant surveillance. The bunker was in New York City and came complete with a gun range, open bathrooms and the power-hungry control of a megalomaniac who psychologically tortured his subjects. She also mentions a film called My Suicide that is playing at SXSW and that you can check out more about here.

After exchanging the usual sort of greeting – with me asking if SXSW has driven her crazy yet and her answering that she arrived that way – we talk a bit about her winning the Yale Film Prize followed by getting rejected from film school, and then dive right in:

Abaius: My colleagues actually thought that you and I would get in a huge fight.

Timoner: Sweet. Let’s get it going.

Alright, if you want to, let’s get it going.

Fisticuffs. What are we going to fight about? I don’t see what there is to fight about.

I guess ‘fight” is the wrong word, but you talk about the people that don’t get it. It’s not that I don’t get it – but I’m wondering what your aim with the film is.

I set out to simultaneously entertain and raise questions and awareness, like I set out to do with all my films.

Then there really is no fight because if your goal was to entertain, then I think you did that. If your goal was to raise questions, you definitely did that.

There’s just that you think about the internet when you use it. You think about whether your friends on Facebook are your friends, and how much you should put out there publicly. And then, do it. Do what you want. The internet is the greatest invention of our generation and possibly in the history of the world besides the jet plane.

It’s the Guttenberg.

Yeah, you know what I mean? It’s like the tipping point. The virtual world is taking over. This film is very prescient. It just tells the story of the last ten years and the evolution of the internet in a way, and our lives to where we are now living public.

See I think that’s where I get off the train, though.

Some people aren’t living in public. That’s good, too. That’s fine.

Oh, not necessarily – I think that there’s a larger number of people that aren’t necessarily living in public, and I think that where the fight may come in is that I’m not sure your film logically connects the dots between what Joshua Davis is doing or did.

Harris.

Harris – I’m so sorry. Long day.

I hear ya.

But – of what he’s doing or what he did and the foundations for – seeing him as an innovator or seeing him as someone who’s laid the groundwork.

I never said that. The film never says that. I didn’t say that he created anything other than a physical metaphor for how we’re reacting to technology. That’s my only argument. Is that – I filmed that bunker, and I had no fucking idea what I was filming at the time. And it wasn’t until these social networking sites came up that I realized how people will prostitute themselves for attention and fame and recognition. I’ve seen it, but I didn’t realize to the extent to which people will do it.

In many cases, it’s not fame that motivates people. It’s just basic connection in time and space. That’s compelling, and it compels me too. It’s just a fact of our human nature that we’re alone. We’re born, we have a family – they’re either close of they’re dysfunctional or whatever it is – more and more through our lives we get launched out of the house, and we’re always seeking not to feel alone, to feel loved. And the internet provides a way for us to feel that connection virtually everyday. And the more we put out there the more we put back. That’s just a fact. If you put a photo up there, it’ll be tagged or be commented on, you can feel like you’ve been recognized in some way or that you’ve made a connection or that you’re not alone. You can wake up in your house, and you’re depressed, but then somebody poked you on facebook, and you feel good. You know? It’s natural. It’s just that there is data mining. There are aspects to the internet that can be dangerous, and there’s cyber-bullying, and there is a dark side that I feel I documented at the bunker.

With any technology there is a dark side.

Correct, and there hasn’t been anything on the topic where you viscerally can see people reacting to surveillance cameras and living in public and the potential that they’re in this group of 150 people underground in Manhattan and whatever they do to rise above the crowd, they’re going to attain more of the camera’s attention, more of the gaze. and if they’re sitting in an interrogation situation, it’s a neo-fascistic environment that they’ve submitted themselves to these. They’ve ceded their freedom in a cult like way. They’re putting on a uniform and they’re saying some of the most personal information. All of their personal information. To check in they have to answer like 500 questions, and Josh Harris says, ‘everything is free except your image. That, we own.’ That right there. You can draw so many parallels to life on-line. When the internet started to explode, social networking started to explode, I thought now is the time to make this movie.

But don’t you see a definite, different stratification between someone who says they like “Catcher in the Rye” on Facebook versus someone who’s having sex and taking a shit on camera?

Sure. I’m not saying that we’re all behaving like the people in the bunker or that even somebody like Matthew was in the bunker because he was depressed and heard about this thing and thought maybe he would be able to connect with some people and get out of his depression.

Which goes back to the primal instinct to try to find love.

To not be alone. That’s not the same as the person who has sex in their pod at the bunker or the person who is flashing nudie shots of themselves online – as somebody who’s saying, “Hey I really dig this record. Check it out.” There’s all sorts of motivations and incredible uses of the internet. And I’m on Facebook you know what I mean, and I like to find out about certain things through Facebook. I think it’s an incredible evolution in our society. I just think you need to aware of that drive in yourself. We all need to be aware of the dangers of not only the corporations and the advertising but just personally, you know, don’t put up private shots of your kids if you’re in a public position and you don’t want your kids to be abducted. As absurd as that sounds, it’s a reality. There’s very little that’s private anymore. Even us right now. We’re probably on a surveillance camera. It’s just an assumption you could probably make at this point in our lives. So just don’t think you’re not.

But a lot of that is just in the realm of the possible.

But in ten years. This movie covers ten years. You’re looking back before broadband. So look at what happened in ten years. If I cut off the internet for a month, what would you feel like? What would it do to your life?

Obviously, my job is on the internet.

There goes your job. For many people, it would be like they lost the map. Like they’re out at sea. And we didn’t even have it ten years ago – we had email basic, you know, and now th virtual boxes that Josh Harris says we’re going to be trapped in, to me, that’s his way of saying that you’re looking down at your blackberry or your iphone. You’re not looking up. You’re not looking at the world around you. If you don’t have your blackberry, you’re lost.

Is that a larger movement or is that a smaller percentage of early adopters?

This is an inevitable progression. Of our evolution.

I don’t see it as inevitable at all.

It’s a devolution.

Do you think the people willing to do the bunker…

Do you think if you took a vote in this city and said we’re having a movement against the internet? Or everyone turn over your PDA?

I’m not saying there should be a Luddite movement of everyone turning off their cell phones. I don’t want to return to that sort of thing. But I think the movement itself is smaller amount of people staring at their blackberrys all day or twittering all day, and there’s a much larger group that aren’t doing that at all.

Now that’s interesting.

And I think the smaller numbers are being extrapolated to make it seem like a much larger scale cultural movement.

I’m not the person to talk to about that. Because I made this movie I have all these people coming up to me to ask me how to use the twitter thing, you know. I’m in the bubble of it. I didn’t create twitter, but I do feel like what I’m saying is that as far as I know, it’s increasing not decreasing, and I think the numbers would support that.

I can agree with that. I’m just not sure where the road is necessarily leading.

I’m not trying to lead a movement. At all. But I do believe in my film. I think the film is really important.

Why do you consider it important right now?

I think it’s important to be aware and conscious of your use of the internet.

Is it fair to say there’s a cautionary tale element?

It’s like, why do you go to a therapist? Why does anybody have a deep conversation with a friend about why they broke up with somebody? because you wanna learn a little something about yourself. I think simultaneously while you’re listening to The Jesus and Mary Chain, and in the bunker or on the apple farm, you’re watching this man’s trajectory and watching your own trajectory whether you’re making your life public or not, society has made it so that it is possible. A lot of people are doing it. When you get hit up by – so-and so has invited you to join this group – think about what that means. Read the terms and conditions for what you’re signing up for. Think about it when you post something. If you’re applying to colleges and you smoked a huge bong hit, and you wanna get in – don’t put it on your myspace page because it’s public. As soon as you put something on the internet, it’s no longer yours to make private again. I think that’s the line of my narration.

Are you concerned about the psychological effect that that has on us?

Sure. I think the My Suicide is the follow up to We Live in Public in terms of – it is picturing the generation that never knew life without the internet and never knew life without surveillance and living in public. They are in this narrative film that’s a faux-doc.And extremely well edited film. I recommend it. It pictures a certain sort of sickness in youth today where suicide rates are increasing, an they’re getting younger and younger – and a lot of it has to do with not having a sense of physical intimacy or the psychical un-mediated world. Without the virtual world.

As a mediator.

As a mediator, as the arbiter. When you and I went to high school, I’m going to assume whatever we did in high school, that’s what we did. Now, it’s whatever we did on Friday night, Saturday night, Sunday night, every other day that forms our social being in that environment. Our reputation. It’s sort of like – I’ve talked to professors about this. At one point cyber-bullying was a part of this movie, and the suicides that occurred on myspace and all that. It’s serious subject matter that My Suicide takes on, and I feel like it’s where We Live in Public leaves off. It doesn’t say anything of this stuff, but My Suicide does a great job of showing what living in public is doing to our formation of relationships today, and the formation of our own identity. These are really, really deep quetions that we can’t answer here. Nor am I queen of those answers, but I just put it out there that these are things to think about.

We’ve always been able to share ourselves. Do you think it’s a case where the internet is just making it easier to reach more people with your life?

Yes, absolutely. Through space and time we can connect anywhere, anytime.

But wouldn’t you agree its a shallower connection?

Absolutely. Your friend on Facebook is not necessarily your friend.

I made this argument. One of the guy’s that’s seen it – Neil Miller is the editor of the site and he was crazy about it – I was enjoying it, because it was a very frustrating film for me.

Because you didn’t feel like it was talking about you? Or you felt like you were being lumped in?

There was an element of that.

But I don’t say that. I don’t tell you that you’re that.

I feel like part of it, in total blunt honesty, was that it was an apology for Josh’s behavior. There’s that side of it.

You know, I had to find my love for Josh Harris. To make a good film, you have to find a love for the subject, and that was one of the biggest challenges I had. It was much easier with Anton and DiG! because I grew up with those guys. I made the film. I didn’t grow up with them, and then decide to make a film – but I had a lot of problems with his immoral behavior in the film. And Josh – at the bunker, I was horrified with some of the things that went down, and the way he was hands off – let the chaos happen – If anything went down there that was extremely violent, it could have resulted in death. It could have resulted in a lot of horrific things.

He was hands off, but he also created this fear scenario of torturing people.

And I think the point that I got at the time was: What the heck, does this guy want to be a cult leader? And I’ve talked to Josh about this. I’ve had some very touchy, sketchy, off camera occurrences with Josh Harris where he’s acted in ways that were anti-ethical. “Antethical,” if there’s a word. Something that’s just – Holy Shit, he thinks of some people as pawns when it comes to art. And I don’t when it comes to art. I just have an integrity toward the people I’m working with that’s instilled in me by my parents. And that’s not the case with him.

Take it for what it is. The guy – to him the bigger picture of what’s going to happen with us, as how we are as humans, as what’s missing in us that we’re trying to fill all the time. These things he was pointing out, they are more improtant than any single human life in that bunker to him. He’s willing to let it all go to Hell to show that. To me, the point of the movie was how people reacted. More what people will give up to be part of something than it was necessarily about him. But that he is a walking cautionary tale. He was raised on this technology. He was rasied without his mother’s love. And he’s always tried to gain that back. He saw the Carson show. He saw that through fame he coul be happy. He learned that thing that all American kids learned by watching tv, that somehow getting on TV – means not being alone.

It means being loved.

It means being loved. Which is what we all want. So instead of intimate love, he sought fame. And even the intimate love he found, he beached in trade for fame. So this was a walking cautionary tale of a visionary.

See, I can agree that we’re raised in this idea of fame being equitable with being loved. And that’s in very small increments on Facebook.

It’s fifteen minutes of fame everyday now.

And I understand the cautionary tale of the flip side – when you cross over to the other side by judging your sef worth by how many friends you have on Facebook and how many people are following you on twitter. But Josh is an outlier. This is cautionary tale to me for when a megalomaniac gets a hold of this technology.

There’s a lot of layers to this film.

[At this point, I bring up Ray Kurzweil, the noted futurist and a firm believer in the direction technology is taking us, and I talk in a boring way for several minutes. This leads us to talking in depth about how quickly the environment has changed.]

I mean, I couldn’t have made this film in 2004 of 2005 when I mad DiG! and Join Us. This film wasn’t ready yet. Society and technology had to catch up for me to even know what it was about.

Do you feel like it’s literally coming out a few months after the Twitter tipping point?

It came out three weeks before Facebook announced their new terms and conditions. Which wasn’t new because they had the beacon program a year before that got shot down by the same thing. It doesn’t mean that they’re not gonna own your content. It just means…

That they haven’t yet.

Well, they do. The new terms and conditions were that they own everything that’s been on the site retroactively. All they did was just pull it back, and it doesn’t mean that they don’t actually own that. It’s just, kind of like, at least you can’t argue with the fact that they’re a $12 billion company based on the value of how much we’ve put out there. We should all be part owners of Facebook. Right?

I don’t know. I think that’s a tough position to defend.

Think about it. Why are people on there? To see each other’s content. We’re content providers.

But Facebook is also creating, exploiting a market for it. They’re offering you something that not a lot of other people – maybe a large number of people actually – can offer, but they’re doing it in a better way or a more intriguing way. They get more people to sign on. So they are obviously offering a product for free. Of course I mean that monetarily.

Everything is free except your image. That we own.

But that’s where – I understand the cautionary tale. I’m on board with part of that, but I’m not nearly as scared about the future.

I’m not either.

You’re not at all? I feel like there’s a darker feel to the film.

I think it’s inevitable. Oh, it is.

Maybe it’s just because of Josh.

It could be billed as a horror movie. But it’s not just Josh. It’s all of us. Everyone that checked into that bunker. Not all of us, but everyone in that film.

So why did you join the bunker?

I was asked to document it. To make a film.

That’s what I mean by extrapolation of numbers. You can’t take a few hundred people and make a claim…

I wouldn’t. Unless I was watching life online.

I don’t think they’re part of the bell curve.

I wouldn’t unless I was watching life online. As an artist holding up a mirror. My publicist came up with this idea for me to twitter as a part of the marketing campaign for this film. So I did, and it was fun, and it is fun, and I do it sometimes. You can – and it’s the instant aspect as well. I can load a picture and it just goes up on my homepage.

It’s satisfying.

Yeah, it’s fun. It’s fun to know that people care what the heck I’m up to. That’s nice, you know.

You don’t think it’s just the delusion that people care?

It’s not.

You don’t think it is?

No, they do care. They say thank you. Thank you for sharing that with me. It allows them -

Do you think it’s because of who you are?

Possibly. I’ve never really thought about it, but I think that if we’re going to talk about it – I guess that being with me at Sundance, being able to follow Sundance from the inside and see pictures of Chris Rock and Robert Redford, and this is going on and that’s going on and this movie is about to show – made it feel like they were there. It once again made them able to connect through time and space on the inside with an inside. And you know, I don’t twitter at home. I don’t twitter pictures of my son. I’m not going to eschew the internet or say that I’m somehow better than or different than people who are doing this. I just think that there’s an undeniable progression going on in the evolution of our society. The internet has changed our world, and this is one aspect of it – that we do live in public more and more and more.

Right now if one of us was shot and killed right here, they would know instantly where we were and what we were doing before hand and right afterwards. Like in My Suicide, they just go and get his hard-drive and they see everything he’s been up to. Like in our Gmail, our email is scanned for key words and advertising is based on those key words. It’s just the way it is. But a lot of people use it and aren’t aware of it. I thought this was a great opportunity to show someone who, to tell the story of one man and his use of technology – and his overload of making his personal life public. How that impacted him. What I like also is that with the bunker he’s kind of manipulating people, and they’re all his pawns, but when he makes himself the rat, he has a nervous breakdown and has to cut himself off from technology. And there’s that movement – a growing amount of people that are cutting themselves off. There’s more people than that that are signing up and jumping online, and then there’s a lot of people that are already overloaded, that are figuring out ways to manage the virtual world in their physical lives.

I think the situation with We Live in Public – his project – is one of the main questions that I have about it. I’m certainly not saying your film presents it in any certain way, but I think the question of his experiment is whether his relationship or his personal life fail because he was being videotaped or is it because he couldn’t handle the relationship?

Both.

I see a correlation, but I don’t see causation.

There was a lot of chatters that were jumping in and commenting on their relationship so they couldn’t have an intimate relationship anymore. It wasn’t a relationship between two people anymore. It was a relationship between hundreds of people.so they were competing. Which already happens in a relationship between two people, and if you’ve ever been in an intimate relationship, that’s one thing that you always have to come back to supporting one another and communicating.

Realizing you’re on the same team.

Yeah, realizing you’re on the same team, and when you suddenly have fan bases going on in the same website, and the viewership goes up when one person is on – what they should have done is never looked at their press. Never read anything that the chatters said probably. But his experiment is that we’re going to live in public and see how it goes and conceive a baby – and quite the opposite happened. So if you look at Julia Allison and her blog – she broke up with her boyfriend on the blog because they had a misunderstanding in words, and I talked to her about it. She said yes, I can’t believe they put a camera in their bedroom. It’s like Josh! Stop! You gotta know where to draw the line. Don’t have any bathroom cameras.

But when you say we’re on a path that’s inevitable. Specifically, concretely, what are we moving to that’s inevitable for you?

Like microchips in your arm.

You think that’s definitely going to happen.

I’m pretty sure.

You’re gonna love Kurzweil by the way.

I mean, if you asked me that five years ago, I wouldn’t have said yes, but I’m looking at a film that spans ten years and every thing’s changed. So much faster toward things that I didn’t think were possible, and I just don’t see where it’s going to stop. I don’t see why it would. If you’re convinced that a microchip in your arm is going to save your life, not only is it going to be your car key, your house key, your cell phone, your credit cards, it’s also going to have all your vital information so that they have your blood type and any conditions you have so they can save you – there’s a good argument for putting it in there.

And you don’t think the arguments against putting it there will stop people?

I’m not a fortune teller, but I do think -

But you claim to see it as inevitable. That this is definitely where we’re heading.

I don’t know if the microchip is inevitable, but I do think that it’s a valid end point to predict at this point.

Well, specifically with surveillance or putting our lives in public.

Everybody, well not everybody but many, many people having their own channel. Filming themselves and filming their lives 24/7. Documentation of their lives 24/7 and being able to watch it back. Increased cataloging of their lives, and your TV set for sure will be the internet and everything shifting. There’s this thing called MeetUp.com that’s a really interesting site that uses the virtual world to connect to the physical world. So no matter what niche you’re in in society, you can find people just like you. If you have a nose piercing on the right nostril, you can find someone who’s meeting in the park that day in whatever city you’re in. Or if you like bull dogs. Whatever it is. I think that it’s the positive aspects of the internet are that the power is with the people in a lot of ways ot express themselves, so what I hope will happen, we’ll self organize more efficiently…

Do you think that the idea of everyone having their own channel is the product of incredible egomania?

Narcissism.

Right. Exactly. And that’s what I have to wonder about a lot of the people that went into the bunker, and I have to wonder if that’s the middle bell curve. Are people – is the average human being really that narcissistic or egomaniacal that they’d want to broadcast themselves?

They would want to broadcast something that’s interesting to them.They want their life to matter. You don’t want to die without your life mattering. People want to make history or they want to be noticed or they want to be recognized as having had a purpose for being here.

And there you have it. Our conversation lasted about ten more minutes – going back over some of the same arguments and exploring the idea that a world of broadcasters means a world without an audience, but ultimately we avoided coming to blows. I still have my own problems with the film and the way that Josh Harris is portrayed in it, but Timenor is nothing if not intelligent. In her own way, she’s a pioneer taking a look at the issues of the future – questions that are being raised and will continue to be raised as we face a brave new world where technology is forcing us to take a clearer look at ourselves through the lens of what we share with others.

Timenor will soon be directing her first feature – the Robert Mapplethorpe documentary The Perfect Moment that’s being produced by Eliza Dushku. For more of the best damn coverage of the 2009 SXSW Film Festival, check out our SXSW ‘09 Homepage.

SXSW Video Interview: Hippie Icon Wavy Gravy Talks Peace, Love and Nonsense

Dr. Cole Abaius — Thu, 19 Mar 2009 19:37:03 +0000

Wavy Gravy is the proto-typical hippie. He was a peace-loving, humanitarian warning people about the bad acid before the term was even invented. Over the years, he has done more with his life than most could do in thirty lifetimes – living with Bob Dylan, being a focal point for the beatnik movement, helping to build the folk movement, tripping acid with Ken Kesey, setting up a traveling commune, feeding people at Woodstock for free, living with Bob Dylan, speaking out against war, traveling the globe to bring aid to disaster victims, setting up foundations to raise money and awareness about curable blindness, creating a kid’s camp, wearing a clown nose in public, and living with Bob Dylan.

Now, he’s the subject of a great documentary, Saint Misbehavin’: The Life and Time of Wavy Gravy, directed by Michelle Esrick. Both took some time out of their busy days spent saving the world to speak to us about the process of making the film, the need for compassion today, and the philosophy behind pouring gravy all over the world.

And we got most of it on video…

After I ran out of magic tapeless memory space in my super-advanced camera, we continued talking about whether it’s harder for the film to resonate with today’s sensibilities which are arguably far removed from the vibe of the 1960s.

“The situation changes so what you do has to change. If you don’t change, you’re dead, so I try to keep changing,” Wavy said. Esrick added that today’s climate is actually a very viable ground for planting the seeds of a film like this. Considering that we have a president making a call for people to do service, Esrick sees Gravy as the perfect example, a role model for the public to view, and a focal point that brings about great change and great inspiration for others to do great works.

It’s obviously a difficult task to accomplish – not all of us, very few in fact have the sort of natural inclination to help others that Wavy Gravy has, but Esrick made a good point when I asked her how she learned to share that part of her life.

“When I interviewed Bob Weir for the film, I asked, ‘what have you learned from Wavy?’ or ‘what has Wavy taught you?’ and he said, ‘It’s not what he’s taught me. He affirms what I already know.’”

For more of the best damn coverage of the 2009 SXSW Film Festival, check out our SXSW ‘09 Homepage.

SXSW: We Troll Around with ‘Best Worst Movie’ Director Michael Paul Stephenson

Adam Sweeney — Thu, 19 Mar 2009 18:56:28 +0000

The Troll 2 cult phenomenon is seemingly unexplainable. That didn’t stop Michael Paul Stephenson from directing a fascinating documentary, Best Worst Movie, about the transformation of the film from a movie mess to must see territory. We had the chance to talk to Stephenson, an incredibly gracious filmmaker, at SXSW about the chance to exorcise the goblins from his life.

You can catch the final SXSW screening of Best Worst Movie on Friday, March 20th at 9:30 p.m. at the Austin Convention Center.

Adam Sweeney: You were the co-lead, Joshua, in Troll 2, which has this cult following. Tim League said it’s a phenomenon in itself. What made you decide to document this following?

Michael Paul Stephenson: For me, it started three and a half years ago. Up until then, I had really tried to distant myself from Troll 2. I didn’t want anything to do with it. I was an actor and it’s not exactly the type of thing that when you’re associated with the film that you want to shout from the rooftops. you know? I was embarrassed by the movie. It’s different when you take it personally. You’re in the film.

But what happened was I started getting messages, a couple of messages here and there from fans on MySpace. I looked at their Myspace pages and would see Troll 2 on their lists of favorite films. Troll 2 would be nestled right in the middle of Shawshank Redemption and Spiderman, you know these big Hollywood blockbuster films. All of the sudden I was like, “what is this?” I didn’t get the joke. I was wondering if it was complete irony or what. Then I started getting emails from fans that would celebrate Troll 2 and have these homegrown parties in the basements of their own houses. They would watch Troll 2 and eat green food, dress up. They were all kind of small, like seven or eight kids. I would get these pictures and it was obvious by seeing one picture that they were having a good time. It was genuine and unlike anything else. The enthusiasm and fun jumped off the photo.

You think of all these movies that try to find an audience and impact people, but they fall short. This here is a movie that by all means is one of the worst movies ever made. I wanted to know why this was happening. So I started emailing and Facebooking people back and forth. It was very warm and inviting. People were really cool. Right around that time, I literally woke up one morning and I thought, “I’m the star of one of the worst movies ever made.” I kind of just smiled and thought that I had to tell the story. How many people can say that? I really saw the genuine and authentic fun that these fans were having. From that point, on I thought up the documentary and just went forward following it. That was before the screenings or any of the big stuff. Months later, we reached this critical mass. We created the website, which was a huge deal because all of the sudden people knew there were other Troll 2 fans out there. It was happening all over the world. It was pretty wild.

I first saw Troll 2 in 1994. There was a flood in Houston and we rented Troll and Troll 2. Having an acting background myself, when you attach yourself to a project and it doesn’t turn out the way you expect it to, there is a bit of shame in that. Looking back at Troll 2 or other projects artists have done, you almost wear it as a badge of honor. You pay your dues. I think Best Worst Movie serves as a remarkable companion to Troll 2. I went back and watched Troll 2 last week and then saw your film. Getting to know the stories of the actors in Troll 2 completely changes the way you look at it.

Right.

You look at Dr. George Hardy, the way he endears himself to the audience. It makes you fall in love with the film. What has the reception been like for you at SXSW. Just looking at the film itself, you see Tim League and Zack Carlson of the Alamo Drafthouse and how they have really embraced this film. What has that been like in Austin for you?

Austin has always been in my mind to premiere the film here. Austin gets this film. It’s the right audience. SXSW has been so incredibly supportive in every way. We have had a lot of really positive feedback and reviews, which is always exciting. The thing that has been kind of interesting, Tim and Zack are like family to me. They’ve been on board from the beginning. They’re really great guys who love what they do. I can respect anybody who does what they love. But what has been the best for me is seeing, when I made this film I never wanted to make a film documenting fandom. I wanted it to be character driven and give a perspective of the cast and crew documenting the film. The sell-outs of the screening are only part of the story. I wanted it to appeal to people who hadn’t seen Troll 2. I wanted it to be much broader and something that could interest people. I didn’t want it to seem like you were on the outside of an inside joke. There have been a lot of people who had not seen Troll 2, were at the premiere or saw a screener and were moved by it. They laughed. They were touched. That makes me feel great. There is more to it than just a movie about a bad movie. It’s not a behind the scenes look or play by play expose. It’s character driven. Those have always been the stories that interested me, interesting characters, interesting people and dimension that isn’t black and white. That’s been cool. After the premiere at the Drafthouse, there was a screening of Troll 2. We asked how many people had not seen Troll 2 and eighty percent of the crowd had not seen it. That’s nice. Through the documentary, I hope it can help both audiences, people who have seen Troll 2 and love it or people who have more curiosity about the film.

That makes a lot of sense. I was talking to a couple of people after screening Best Worst Movie and was telling them that it is based on the experiences of the actors and crew from Troll 2. They told me, “I’ve never seen Troll 2 though.” I was like, “It doesn’t even matter.” It’s character driven and a story of people trying to make sense of a film that at a time they didn’t want to wear as a badge. But it’s entertaining. We’ve talked a lot this week about how there is a big difference between the best film and the film you want to watch over and over again.

Right.

Troll 2 fits the latter category. Do you plan on doing any narrative films?

I do. I’ve always wanted to be a filmmaker. I love acting. What’s most important to me is finding stories that are meaningful to me, whether it is a documentary or a narrative. I’ve had a few friends through this whole deal who have shown me scripts. One script that is very beautiful is actually written by Zack Carlson from the Alamo. At the same time, this process has taken three years. I find myself saying, “Man, the next one is a narrative.” (Laughs) It’s such a commitment. But looking back on it, I love that process, the whole documentary process and getting to know truth and people. If I found another subject matter that I knew I could be committed to like this, I wouldn’t say no to a documentary. They’re different and same. I wanted to take the approach with this that it felt more like a narrative. It wasn’t voice-over driven or driven by exposition, or even first person as in, “This is me. This is my quest to show the worst movie of all time.” I didn’t want that. For me, it’s about finding stories that you care about and can really throw yourself into, ones that are personal. Whether that is a documentary or narrative, I don’t know yet. After doing this documentary, I currently can’t imagine a documentary that I could get so personally involved in. But who knows?

The reason this film works so well is that it doesn’t come off as a first person film. It feels like we’re watching a family. Everyone has their own role. George Hardy is a guy you can sit down and talk to. Claudio Fragasso is the uncle that is difficult but has his purpose. When I was watching Troll 2 again, the first time I was watching it for entertainment, but right before I saw Best Worst Movie I was thinking, “Could this message be anti-vegetarian or a statement on the green movement?” Sure enough, as soon as I watched Best Worst Movie that was the total intention. (AS and MPS laugh) So, in a weird way they have achieve their goal.

What films are you interested in at SXSW?

Before I answer that, I want to comment on what you said about the family bit. It is like a dysfunctional family but still has happiness. With Claudio and George, there’s no one protagonist or antagonist. It’s just like a dysfunctional family would be.

I came to SXSW with a list of films to see but it’s been crazy. I haven’t seen one other movie because we’ve had media interviews and other things. So hopefully I will get some time to check out other films. I want to see Anvil! I have heard good things about Sin Nombre. I want to see some of the other documentaries. I want to see Made in China. That caught my eyes. I have a list so hopefully I will see them.

We will be checking out another screening for Best Worst Movie. Thank you again for the interview.

Thank you guys. A film like this, as journalists you have such an important responsibility to cover films. That is really the only way a film like this can get out. I appreciate what you guys have already done and just coming to the screening today means a lot to me. Thanks.

For more of the best damn coverage of the 2009 SXSW Film Festival, check out our SXSW ‘09 Homepage.

SXSW Review: The Horseman

Rob Hunter — Wed, 18 Mar 2009 22:10:44 +0000

Does penis violence make you queasy? And I don’t mean violence committed by penises, but violence committed against them. Punches, drill bits spinning Candiru-style up the urethra, or tri-hooked fishing lures pierced through a guy’s dongle then yanked… if so, then you just may want to skip the new Australian film, The Horseman.

Still with me? On with the review…

The Horseman opens with an exterminator named Christian (Peter Marshall) visiting a house and brutally beating the owner into submission. He takes a crowbar to the man’s home with equal enthusiasm, and it’s revealed this may have something to with a porn tape, an overdose, and Christian’s dead daughter. He moves forward from there, finding and eliminating the men he feels are responsible for his daughter’s death, and each step seems to eradicate his humanity more and more. The only light in his life shines from within a young hitchhiker named Alice (Caroline Marohasy) he picks up along his journey. She’s a stand-in for his daughter in many ways, but his attempts to do right this time come into conflict with the swathe of revenge he’s cutting throughout Australia. The results are bleak, bloody, and ultimately depressing.

Character development is almost non-existent in The Horseman in favor of a focus on scenes of pure emotion… although most of that emotional display comes in the form of brutal and gritty violence. And that action is the film’s biggest strength. Fights aren’t stylistic or beautiful like the combat in Ong Bak 2… in fact they feel almost unrehearsed and lacking choreography at times. They’re savage brawls fueled by rage and survival and can be extremely painful (albeit exhilarating) to watch.

The Horseman’s other strength is Marshall’s performance. We get glimpses of the man before his world collapses, and while more scenes like that would have made for a better film, Marshall makes the most of the situation. Loss and sadness briefly pour from his weathered face before he once again comes face to face with another one of the bad guys. His rage is evident and tangible and they fuel his actions throughout the many fights for his life. If he seems almost super-human at times, and he does, it’s almost acceptable in the context of his (and the film’s) singular desire… revenge at all costs. By the end of the movie the price is revealed to be fairly hefty indeed.

Director/writer Steven Kastrissios spoke after the SXSW screening and acknowledged the original cut was 2 1/2 hours long. That’s a full hour longer than the film as it stands now, and Kastrissios admits the missing scenes focused exclusively on character growth and exposition. This type of film may not need an extraordinary amount of talk or explanatory dialogue, but something more seems necessary. Opening the film with a brutal beat down may immediately grab an audience interested purely in bloodshed, but it makes it difficult to go back and show the transformation from normal man to vengeance-fueled madman.

The Horseman is a strong entrant into the revenge genre, but it’s almost exclusive focus on the violence and brutality leaves no room for character exploration and depth. It works as a purely visceral experience only. Several scenes are heavy with tension before during and after eruptions of violence, but the absence of any substantial back story or history means we don’t necessarily feel the loss that fuels him. That said, you’ll definitely feel the fish hooks through the scrotum…

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