Looks like Drafthouse Films is picking up some primo real estate, as the film distribution arm of the Alamo Drafthouse Cinema has just announced that their latest acquisition is Ben Wheatley‘s A Field in England. Wheatley is a name well-familiar to the Drafthouse genre buffs, as he’s already directed three uniquely terrifying films (Down Terrace, Kill List, and Sightseers) and contributed a segment to Drafthouse’s own The ABCs of Death. Drafthouse and Wheatley is a perfect pairing, and one that we’ve been expecting for quite some time. For the new film, which has been described as ”a psychedelic trip into magic and madness,” Wheatley goes period all over the asses of some poor schmoes, as it centers on “English Civil War soldiers in the 17th century who are captured by an alchemist and led into a vast mushroom field, where they fall victim to violent and nightmarish forces.” Soldiers? A crazy alchemist? Mushrooms? If it’s half as scary as Kill List, theaters will have to put down tarps to capture the tears and wee of moviegoers. (This is a good thing, really, we promise.)

The past couple years have seen a healthy stream of fantastic documentaries focused on the world of music. More precisely, Searching for Sugar Man, Paul Williams Still Alive and Sound City all entertained and enlightened by offering viewers a glimpse into stories from the past about people that today’s audiences have forgotten. The upcoming Drafthouse Films release, A Band Called Death, aims to do the same by re-introducing the world to a little-known but much respected punk/rock band from the early ’70s. They preceded bands we do remember but were forgotten to the ravages of time. It’s not just their timing that makes them stand out from the Caucasian crowd though… Check out the first trailer for A Band Called Death below.

The value of a really good story hook can never be overstated, but it’s become fairly uncommon these days to find a film that has one. The odds decrease even more when it comes to movies with a fantastic premise and a successful execution of that idea. Ron Morales‘ second feature, Graceland, manages to do both. Marlon Villar (Arnold Reyes) is low level driver for a sordid congressman, and while he hates what the elected official does with his free time, he needs the paycheck to help raise his own daughter Elvie. He drives the congressman’s daughter to school every day and makes a habit of bringing Elvie along for the ride, but when a routine traffic stop turns into a botched kidnapping, his life is thrown into immediate turmoil. The captors have mistaken Elvie for the politician’s daughter and are now demanding a hefty ransom. The immoral congressman won’t pay if he thinks his own little girl is safe, so… what’s an honorable and desperate man to do?

It seems like years since Drafthouse Films announced that they’d be boldly making a 26-part anthology that would shed a bloody spotlight on 26 different ways to die. With entries like “B is for Bigfoot” and “J is for Jidai-geki,” The ABCs of Death appears to be the kind of teaching tool that’s almost perverse enough to end up in Texas public schools. We’ve seen a trailer, written a review, and now the icosikaihexagonal horror is hitting all sorts of streaming and On Demand services ahead of its theatrical release in early March. Amidst a coordinated slew of interviews, I was lucky enough to speak via email with a personal favorite, filmmaker Angela Bettis, who starred in May, directed Roman and helmed the ABCs segment “E is for Exterminate.”

A rock band who practice Tae kwon do and sing about the joys of friendship. Ninjas who move noisily between drug deals on speeding pocket rockets. Welcome to the dangerous world of Orlando, circa 1987, and the little film that found a second chance on eBay. Miami Connection opened and closed in central Florida in 1987, never to see public exposure again, but when an industrious Alamo Drafthouse employee bought a print online for $50 a legend was reborn. The film follows a group of friends who go to college during the day and rock out at night as the house-band for an Orlando nightclub. Their world is shattered though when they’re forced into a confrontation with a rival band, poorly dressed gang members and drug dealing, motorcycle riding ninjas. Let’s listen to some commentary!

There’s a danger to anthology films in that the films often lack consistency when it comes to quality. They consist, after all, of multiple short films, each with their own writers, directors, and actors, and that variety can only lead to varying levels of success. So how do you combat the chance some of your shorts might suck? Make a movie featuring 26 shorts, of course. The ABCs of Death is an original Drafthouse Films production that gathered 26 filmmakers, assigned each of them a letter of the alphabet and gave them a simple task: make a very short film about death inspired by their particular letter. The roster of directors who answered the call are an international directory of genre fans and masters, and a small sampling includes Jason Eisener, Xavier Gens, Yoshihiro Nishimura, Nacho Vigalondo, Ti West, Ben Wheatley, and more. The first red band trailer has just appeared online, and you should check it out after the break.

Editor’s Note: This review appeared as part of our coverage of the 11th Annual New York Asian Film Festival, and we’re bringing it back as the film opens this weekend in limited theatrical release. Anyone who lived through the decade knows the 80s were a hazardous and dangerous time to be alive… especially if you were part of a band spreading peace and a love of Tae Kwon Do through your music and kickass stage shows. Dragon Sound is just such a group, and when they’re hired as the house band at a popular club the musicians they replaced come looking for payback. The quite literal battle of the bands soon explodes into a violent conflagration involving drug running, murder and inspirational lyrics. And ninjas. Motorcycle-riding ninjas.

They said it couldn’t be done. A fifth year of 31 Days of Horror? 31 more terror, gore and shower scene-filled movies worth highlighting? But Rejects always say die and never back away from a challenge, so we’ve rounded up the horror fans among us and put together another month’s worth of genre fun. Enjoy! Synopsis: During his trek home to Sydney from the nowhere town of Tiboonda, bonded school teacher John Grant gets side-tracked in the rough and tumble town of Bundanyabba, or as the locals call it, The Yabba. What starts with some hesitant gambling to win enough money to quit his teaching job quickly spirals into a hellish span of five days stuck with hard drinking, hard fighting, quick shooting Australian rednecks who escort Grant to the gates of his own hell.

Just a couple of weeks ago, what is arguably the best-loved movie from the ’80s, Raiders of the Lost Ark, enjoyed a good deal of success getting re-released into IMAX theaters. Seeing that the market is hot for 8’0s revivals, Drafthouse Films, the distributing arm of the Alamo Drafthouse, has decided to take it upon themselves to ready what is probably the second biggest movie of the ’80s, Miami Connection, for a theatrical run of its own. What is Miami Connection? How fortunate that you should ask now, because Hobo With a Shotgun director Jason Eisener has just cut together a new trailer for the film that will answer all of your questions. To put it simply, Miami Connection is probably the best realized interpretation of the war between Miami’s motorcycle ninja drug gangs and its martial arts vigilante rock band, Dragon Sound, that’s ever been put on film.

  I was going to yell at most of you (yes, even you!) for not buying an advance ticket to Cinema East‘s Tugg screening of I Am Not a Hipster. Why? Because I really want to see that film, but not enough pre-sale tickets were sold so it was cancelled. But as I thought about it some more, I realized that my yelling would have probably come off as being condescending or patronizing. Besides, it is not my job to lecture the Austinites reading this column about their lack of support of independent film, now is it? It does sound like Cinema East is going to give us another chance to see I Am Not a Hipster in the near future, so stayed tuned…and please don’t let me down ever again. While on the subject of cancelled screenings… You know those high winds that came in with the “cold front” on Saturday? Well, those very same winds that brought our daytime temperatures down into the 80s (!!!) destroyed the screen at the Blue Starlite! For those of you who were disappointingly turned away from the sold out Saturday night screening of Grease, there will be a “wind check” (you know, like a rain check but without the rain) date on September 28 but you do need to send an email to them to confirm your slot. If you cannot make it that screening, you can use your “wind check” anytime before the end of the year; you just need email the Blue Starlite

The folks at that Alamo Drafthouse and Drafthouse Films don’t speak Danish — at least not that we know — but the stars of their latest acquisition, KLOWN, do. And they do so in a rather raunchy manner, creating hilarity all over the land. You don’t need to know Danish to enjoy the new “Don’t Talk” PSA featuring KLOWN stars Frank Hvam and Casper Christensen. It’s got subtitles for that. All you do need to do is be right here, right now. Because this is where it’s debuting. And as a bonus, we’ve got a line on how you can just jump right into watching KLOWN in its entirety online. The wonders of the internet!

The Danish television series Klovn (“Clown”) ran for six seasons, from 2005 to 2009, and accumulated about sixty episodes during this run. It was an incredibly popular show in Denmark and throughout Scandanavia. The series spawned a feature film, Klown (2010), which has now made its way to the US thanks to Drafthouse Films. Klown presents an admittedly difficult scenario for a US distributor and for American audiences. Word-based comedy typically encounters difficulty traversing across languages and cultures (hell, some Americans are even turned off by the idiosyncrasies of British humor despite the (mostly) shared language); there’s a reason the arthouse is typically associated with snooty Euro-drama. Add this to the fact that Klown is a based on a long-running series with a core existing audience in the country in which was made that is virtually invisible in the US. Put these factors together and you’ve got a uniquely difficult film to promote. Despite these obstructions, which are by no means the fault of the film itself, Klown is well versed in the language of comedy. The film’s comedic set-pieces are executed with an undeniably honed sense of expert timing, and the emotional arc of the film is thankfully crafted without any regard for the sentimental aspects of the human condition, avoiding the rut that so many domestic comedies reduce themselves to in their final acts.

When you watch enough movies, you come to associate canoe trips with many reprehensible things. Among these unfortunate associations are banjo music, forced sodomy, and leaving the house. Still, undaunted by the twanging intro of “Dueling Banjos” that may or may not have only existed in our heads, a group of intrepid movie fans loaded up and headed to Spring Branch, Texas for the Alamo Drafthouse’s Klown canoe trip and outdoor screening. While in the film, Casper (Casper Christensen) and Frank (Frank Hvam) are on a Tour de Pussy, we were more or less on a Tour de Someone’s-Assuredly-Not-Making-It-Back. As liquored up as Drafthouse impresario Tim League would allow, which is to say to our eyeballs, we set out on the Guadalupe River and took in the beauty and wonder of nature…as we tried, some of us futilely, to keep from capsizing where it was deep enough, and grinding to an embarrassing halt where the drought had made a puddle of the mighty river. Arriving back at camp at various degrees of dampness, we sat down for a glorious screening of the Danish comedy under the gorgeous Texas sky. I laughed heartily into the mouth of my ever-dwindling flask; delighted to be seeing the film again. The next day, in the throws of a beautiful hangover, I stumbled into a back room at The Highball in Austin–with no recollection of how I got back to the city–to find the stars of the film restrained in a strange Tiki gulag from

Michael R. Roskam‘s Bullhead is unquestionably a film about physical transformation and eventual deterioration. The Oscar nominee for Best Foreign Film centers on Matthias Schoenaerts in a star-making performance as the unhinged and undeterred Jacky Vanmarsenille, a cattle farmer with too many secrets to count. Most of them are obscured by his raw power and terrifying size, and Schoenaerts had to beef up considerably to the play the role. The actor had to add roughly sixty pounds of pure muscle to his frame – a feat that seems all the more impressive when you see a non-Bullhead Schoenaerts, who is considerably less beefy (and far less terrifying) than Jacky. But how to did Schoenaerts pack on the muscle essential to playing his role? And just how much did the strain of that gain impact his actual performance? In an exclusive special feature clip from the new home video and digital release of Bullhead, we learn a little bit more about what fueled Schoenaerts’ transformation – and it’s one hell of a change. Learn how to become a Bullhead with a not-as-supple-as-he-used-to-be Matthias Schoenaerts and 2,400 tins of tuna fish after the break.

Austin has a drive-in movie theater? Really? No way! Actually it makes total sense, since Austin is a city that really loves movies and really loves cars [and pickup trucks and SUVs]. Besides, it seems to never rain here, so the weather is perfect for outdoor movie screenings. Way back in 2010, native Austinite Josh Frank (author of “In Heaven Everything is Fine: The Unsolved Life of Peter Ivers and the Lost History of New Wave Theatre” and “Fool the World: The Oral History of a Band Called Pixies”) took a cue from San Francisco’s mobile drive-in MobMov.org — he constructed a modestly sized outdoor screen, acquired some car-speaker posts from defunct drive-ins via eBay, and restored a vintage runabout to use as a concession stand. Frank’s Mini Urban Drive-in, The Blue Starlite, has existed in varying capacities and locations for the last two years. When he found out a few months ago that his lease at 1001 E 6th Street would not be renewed, the future of The Blue Starlite seemed uncertain. One of Austin’s best kept cinematic secrets was in jeopardy of disappearing forever. Along came a surprising announcement from the Austin Film Society – The Blue Starlite found a summer home at Austin Studios (1901 E 51st Street). They even built their first real drive-in movie screen to complement the new location.

You know what this Klown Red Band Trailer is all about? Hospitality. It’s about repaying a woman who is nice enough to invite you into her home, let you crash there and make you pancakes. It’s sweet really. Even if it gets a little smelly. The film played at Fantastic Fest, where Adam Charles laughed his ass off to its absurd male bonding, and Drafthouse Films picked it up for distribution. The movie, based on a television show, focuses on two men who are on a wild Tour de Pussy. Trying to boldly prove that he’s fatherly material to his girlfriend, one of the men kidnaps her 12-year-old son and brings him along. Check out more good parenting with the trailer:

Talk about giving back. With 26 directors and 26 short films making up the horror anthology The ABCs of Death, you’d imagine that they’d have their hands full, but the fine folks at Magnet, Timpson, and Drafthouse Filmshave decided to give back to the community. Their first poster promoting the project is a vibrant public service announcement celebrating the FUNdamentals of reading. It does it with a crow-winged Angel of death and a tiny toddler, but the sentiment is the right one. Check it out for yourself:

If the title of Brian Salisbury’s SXSW 2011 review of The FP –  ‘The FP’ Shakes Off the Suckas and Drops that Dope Absurdity in Ya Eye Holes! – is any indication, there’s some language in this film that is simply out of the realm of casual, polite conversation. It’s a hyper-real story about a relentless turf war in a dystopian future where everything is decided by dance battle, a place where brothers named BTRO and JTRO battle for honor. Destined to be a cult hit, The FP is one of the lead films for the new Tugg service, which allows users to sign up at Tugg.com/TheFP and bring the film to their own local theater in conjunction with its limited release on March 16. Now you too can be the hero who brings such an ambitious, ridiculous, completely hilarious experience to your neighbors. They’ll probably thank you for it, unless they are Chuckleheads. To celebrate the release, the folks over at Drafthouse Films, who bought the distribution rights to The FP right after it exploded out of the 2011 SXSW film festival, have sent over this Urban Dictionary for The FP, which explains some of the lingo behind this Knuckle Fluffin’ Whatchamacallit havin’ movie. As we always say, it’s important that you’re prepared. So check out the Urban Dictionary by The Brothers Trost and request The FP on Tugg. You owe it to yoself… yo.

When Austin’s very own homegrown distributor Drafthouse Films signed on to distribute the 30th anniversary re-release of Comin’ At Ya! in the United States, I really wasn’t sure what to think. I had heard that the screenings at Fantastic Fest 2011 went over like wildfire, but I suspected that those screenings were essentially just preaching to the choir. What would other audiences think? Then I watched the fully restored Comin’ At Ya! and realized exactly what is so damn special about this film. Sure, Comin’ at Ya! is ridiculously gimmicky but that’s exactly what makes it so much fun. The first-ever 3D spaghetti-western, Comin’ at Ya! does precisely what the title promises. Rather than using 3D technology to add greater depth to the scenes — like most of the namby pamby 3D films released today — Comin’ at Ya! breaks out from the confines of the silver screen and attacks the audience with a relentless barrage of… well… everything but the kitchen sink. From the brilliantly conceived opening title sequence, it seems like there is always something jumping off of the screen and into your face. Watching Comin’ at Ya! is more like strolling around inside a wacky fun house (or a haunted house) than a traditional cinematic experience. It will rarely scare or thrill you (though the flaming arrows are pretty effective), but it never fails to conjure up laughs and cheers from the audience. Upon its initial release in 1981, Comin’ At Ya! single-handedly ignited the resurgence of

What is Movie News After Dark? It’s the ketchup on your ice cream. Good evening and welcome back! We’ll begin with a piece from film critic and feline advocate Scott Weinberg who’s compiled a list of the best foreign action films to hit our shores in the last few years. Prompted by a recent screening of festival darling The Raid, which should be assaulting American eyeballs in the next month or two, Weinberg runs down plenty of ass-kicking titles to feed your Netflix queue. Head on over to Movies.com for the full piece.