fee's LIST takes a Fantastic (Fest) pause

Note: I consider Fantastic Fest a pause in regular LIST programming, not a break nor holiday. From September 20-27, I will be camped out (practically) at Austin, TX's Alamo Drafthouse South Lamar. Last year I caught 24 films (25 if you count seeing the world premiere of Noboru Iguchi's Zombie Ass twice, which I did).

This will be my third Fantastic Fest and second as an Austin local. I think I can break that film-viewing record. Right not it's all about scheduling conflicts, like "do I pick Bring Me the Head of Machine Gun Woman over The Shining: Forwards and Backwards or...?" That kind of thing.

Game plan is #FF2012 -related updates throughout the next two weeks, and a return to regular programming on OCT 3. 'til then, let's get Fantastic!

Fantastic Fest 2011 day seven & eight: RABIES, LIVID, A LONELY PLACE TO DIE, THE INNKEEPERS

Rabies (dirs. Aharon Keshales & Novat Paupshado, 2010, Israel)

Aharon Keshales and Novat Paupshado's awesomely vicious and funny film Rabies came with a lot of options as Israel's first horror feature. That there's a homicidal predator in the forest, the directors could've explored that as a traditional (albeit Israeli) slasher film and made a bloody decent one at that. Instead, they focus on the broader picture of Israeli acting talent, the quartet of friends road-tripping in the woods, the park ranger and his trusty hunting dog, the two cops patrolling the area, the brother and sister targeted by the maniac — IN ADDITION to a very dangerous killer on the loose. In doing so, Keshales and Paupshado concocted a very creative, articulated entry to the international genre scene. So the conventional beginning — young Tali (Liat Harlev) stuck in the killer's trap, her brother Ofer (Henry David) comes to her aid only to be attacked off-camera — quickly segues to separate story-lines of friends, a hunting expedition, laughter and bickering that spirals out of control as tensions rage, miscommunication reigns and violence ensues. That the forest is littered with landmines leftover from past nationwide conflicts is just one spark to this growing molotov. A case of good samaritan aid and misidentification leads to copious bloodshed, another instance of a corrupt cop Yuval (Danny Geva) forcing himself on the girls Adi (the lovely, ass-kicking Ania Bukstein) and Shir (Yael Grobglas) he's supposed to be protecting — you know, from the psycho in the woods! — goes far different than you might think. Rabies equaled one of my most memorable Fantastic Fest films and a favorite, and I look forward to these directors' future efforts within the horror genre.

Livid (dir. Julien Maury/Alexandre Bustillo, 2011, France)

Maybe you've heard this already, but Livid, the 2nd horror feature from powerhouse directors Julien Maury and Alexandre Bustillo, is NOT another Inside. But, if you've seen Inside and you're an adherent to the New French Extremity movement, you HAVE to see Livid. It's way different — I've been calling it a fairytale for twisted adults — but in its inherent beauty, its creative scares and nice bursts of practical FX horror, Livid is a worthy member of France's sicker horror scene. I hate to give anything away, but I'll say that prominent press image of a young ballerina w/ a bloodied-face seemingly floating in midair IS explained within Livid's unusual mythology. In brief, trainee in-house caregive Lucie (Chloe Coulloud), along with her opportunistic wharf-working BF William (Félix Moati) and bartender bud Ben (Jéremy Kapone), decide to rob the massive Brittany country estate of one of her new patients, comatose former dance teacher Jessel (Marie-Claude Pietragalla, sporting a huge breathing apparatus way creepier than the old woman's in Insidious, thanks to her talon-like fingernails), since she's suppose to have a big-ass treasure in there. Of course nothing goes as planned, and beginning with a cadaver of old Jessel's daughter Anna (Chloé Marcq, echoing Degas' dancers) we're propelled into a supernatural horror rollercoaster. And while Livid doesn't exceed Inside in brutal awesomeness, it's a fascinating, unsettling experience from the dynamic duo.

A Lonely Place to Die (dir. Julian Gilbey, 2011, UK)

The survival thriller A Lonely Place to Die stumbles in its third act, when director Julian Gilbey descends from the vertiginous Scottish Highlands into a neighboring township (the May Day festival in town is pretty cool, the rest not so much). But the first hour, set amid sheer rock faces soaring hundreds of feet in the air, scattered forest cover and burbling rivers, is awesome. I suffered from a bit of acrophobia in the first half, as the camera zoomed around mountaineers hiking and climbing the terrain — but I didn't mind too much, it was such a thrilling ride. The team, including climbing expert Alison (a fantastic Melissa George) overhear a girl's echoing voice in the forest and, upon discovering a breathing pipe in the ground, dig up a box containing young Serbian Anna (Holly Boyd). Anna was kidnapped from her wealthy father and held for obscene ransom in truly a lonely place to die, and as the team proceeds to take her to safety dudes wielding scope-outfitted rifles prowl after them. Couple that amid the Scottish Highlands, where a misstep equals a broken ankle or, worse, a deadly plunge, and Gilbey's created a creative game of cat and mouse. Which is a drag when the chase returns to level ground, as it becomes a much more normal film from its initial, awesome setting. A Lonely Place to Die was picked up by IFC Midnight w/ a limited theatrical release beginning Nov 4.

The Innkeepers (dir. Ti West, 2010, USA)

My final film of Fantastic Fest was suitably fantastic, so I started with awesomeness (Ahn Sang-hoon's Blind) and ended with awesomeness, to the tune of The ABCs of Death contributor Ti West and his new creative ghost story The Innkeepers. I unabashedly LOVED The House of the Devil, West's ode to '80s chillers and physically wrenching in its unexpected scares. The Innkeepers is as frightening as its predecessor but the strong, realistic instances of wisecracking and one-liners makes for a more well-rounded, touching story. In fact, it made me care more for young slacker lead Claire (Sara Paxton, an instant charmer despite showing no gratuitous skin like in Shark Night 3D), employee of the soon-to-close Yankee Pedlar Inn up in Connecticut. She's cute w/o being overtly sexualized, routinely puffing at an asthma inhaler (a clear plot element, or an ambiguous one?) whilst immersing herself in the inn's spooky folklore. See, according to coworker Luke (Pat Healy, aka John from Ghost World), a good-natured if scruffy older nerd, the building is haunted and he's got proof, on a Geocities-styled website he's kinda sorta making the effort to build. Plus there's sole resident Leanne (the ineffable Kelly McGillis — as in Callsign Charlie from Top Gun, hello?!), a former actress-turned-psychic, who informs starstruck Claire that there are indeed three ghosts inhabiting the inn. Claire dons headphones, cuing an audio recorder that picks up traces of piano playing — supposedly a ghostly woman who met her demise in the building. Then said ghostly woman's aged ex-husband arrives, demanding a specific room for the "nostalgia", and the supernatural element increases. Once West turns on the scares to full volume, we're so into these players' heads (particularly Claire's) that we just want everything to turn out all right in the end. But this is a horror movie, remember! Lucky Austinites: The Innkeepers screens as part of a Ti West retrospective on Oct 3 at the Village Alamo Drafthouse.

Fantastic Fest 2011 day five & six: BULLHEAD, BODY TEMPERATURE, MELANCHOLIA

Bullhead (dir. Michael R. Roskam, 2011, Belgium)

An incredible first feature by Michael Roskam, who expresses his love of classic '20s and '30s crime thrillers via injections of black humor and cultural conflict whilst elucidating a unique take on the genre. I.e. Belgium's underground bovine hormone mafia. The brawny physicality and beating heart of Bullhead rests in man-mountain lead Jacky (an almost unrecognizable, bulked-up Matthias Schoenaerts, star of Flemish blockbuster Loft and its upcoming American remake). He is as much a bull as the cattle he tends, severely addicted as he is to testosterone shots and paranoid ultra-masculinity. Because despite his swaggering physique as enforcer amid a whirlwind of gangsters and opportunists, Jacky's incredibly, uncomfortably awkward around women — in person and in subject. I'll not give away the big backstory (it's a tough one, particularly for dudes!), but it's the crux of Jacky's personal demons, and equals a very dangerous, drug-dependent man. Roskam won Fantastic Fest's "Next Wave" best director and picture awards for Bullhead, and Schoenaerts rightly received the best actor award. His transformation into a snuffling, head-butting, berzerking beast both potentially violent and simultaneously terribly frightened arouses our sympathy as much as it freaks us out. Let's hope Bullhead gains wider recognition for this accomplished work.

Body Temperature (dir. Takaomi Ogata, 2011, Japan)

I befriended young Tokyo-based director Takaomi Ogata during the festival. We're the same age and both dig Shiner Bock and similar films (Beatrice Dalle in Betty Blue! Katsuhito Ishii!). He warned me ahead of time that Body Temperature, his second feature film after Endless Blue, is a subtle and gentle film, with little dialogue and even less soundtrack, so please try not to fall asleep! Mind you, I kept rapt attention throughout this brief, bittersweet film, centered on lonely Rintaro (Chavetaro Ishizaki), his love-doll Ibuki (played for the first 3/4 of the film by AV idol Rin Sakuragi) and, eventually, his new hostess love interest Rinko (Sakuragi again). Rintaro's daily routine with Ibuki, helping her dress, taking her around in a wheelchair throughout town, bowling and photo-taking and celebrating her birthday — all this seems innocent enough, like she's a convalescent. Yet unless you've read absolutely ZERO on Body Temperature, you understand her to be "just" a latex sex doll, despite Sakuragi's skilled, immobile presence. And yeah, he goes "all the way" with her, too. So when meeting Rinko by chance outside a boutique and following her to the posh Roppongi hostess bar where she works — and against all odds they actually hit it off! — we feel a bit of relief for Rintaro. He abandons Ibuki and goes bowling with Rinko, meets her at a bar elsewhere (looks like Kabukicho's border to me, but I could be wrong), and eventually they wind up at his place making out. His comment on how warm her hands are (get the film title now?) is sad and sweet at the same time — like he's finally got a chance at "real" love, but Rinko's discovery of Ibuki (now shown as "just" a doll) is as anticipated as it is necessary.

Melancholia (dir. Lars von Trier, 2011, Denmark)

The denouement of Lars von Trier's incredible new film Melancholia, which rightfully earned a best actress award at Cannes for Kirsten Dunst's role, had me contacting friends in NYC and Tokyo with promises of visiting them as soon as possible. Because if the world were to end tomorrow, or in the manner of von Trier's stunning achievement — despite his awkward, Nazi-riddled speech at a Cannes press conference, I encourage you to see Melancholia nonetheless — then I'd want to see my most loved one last time. Post-apocalyptic films are one thing (something awful happens to the Earth, maybe it's never quite explained like in The Day, yet people persevere on), apocalyptic, like pure apocalyptic as in Melancholia, that's something else. The world does indeed end, and I needn't put spoiler bookends around that as we see the collision w/ the massive rogue planet Melancholia less than 10 minutes into the film, after long dream-like sequences with main characters Justine (Dunst), her sister Claire (Charlotte Gainsbourg, heartrendingly expressive here) and Claire's little son Leo (Cameron Spurr). So we KNOW what's going to happen at the end — i.e. the earth's destruction — but we don't yet know how von Trier's going to do that.

SPOILERS! (kinda, though I tried to keep it vague…)
The first half of Melancholia follows a lavish wedding reception b/w Justine and Michael (the towering Alexander Skarsgård) in a castle-like country estate adjacent to rolling fields of golf courses. Claire's husband John (a charming and caustic Kiefer Sutherland, whose astronomy connections have him very excited about Melancholia's impending "fly-by") hosts the thing, doling out extreme amounts of cash for a suitably end-of-days bash — except of course this isn't meant to be an end of days, the rogue telluric planet hidden behind the sun is approaching Earth only to pass by it, at least that's what experts are claiming. Lots of unexpected and warm humor here b/w Justine and Michael, beginning w/ trying to navigate their stretch limo through the bends and turns leading up to the castle. It becomes clear quickly that Justine's unhappy, once they're immersed in family and friends at the reception, as she grows sad, despondent, prickly and desperate amid her divorced parents' blatant arguments (her mother can't believe she got married) and even Michael's own attempts at affection. Claire meanwhile is always there, trying to comfort her sister. But when the party concludes, Michael leaves separately, unofficially nullifying the wedding. In part two, a now totally depressed Justine rejoins Claire and family at the estate, and the women ride horses and tend the garden in sublime moments of respite. We quickly understand that Claire has her own demons: she's deathly afraid of Melancholia, so much so that she distrusts John's prediction that it'll fly past them unscathed and has locked away a bottle of some unknown pills, assumedly so they can painlessly kill themselves. Justine is calm and cynical about the whole situation, growingly accepting of their eventual doom while accepting little Leo's affection in stride. And it's these final few minutes, with the thrum of the approaching Melancholia, the bass and then bass heat blasting from the speakers into our chests, the blue-white glare off the screen and sisters embrace: it's an image and experience I'll not forget anytime soon.

Fantastic Fest 2011 day four: SMUGGLER, TWO EYES STARING, YAKUZA WEAPON, KARATE-ROBO ZABORGAR

Smuggler (dir. Katsuhito Ishii, 2011, Japan)

Katsuhito Ishii's Smuggler — his return to bruised-up, coked-up crime thrillers like his early genre-bender Sharkskin Man and Peach-hip Girl — was one of my top five most-anticipated films of the festival. See, I'm an Ishii-devotee, having begun with Sharkskin Man… on a total blind whim and the knowledge that Tadanobu Asano — IMO Japan's Johnny Depp for adaptability — was the lead. That ensemble-cast film turned the Yakuza genre on its ear, inserting off-kilter humor and extended, chatty dialogue and gorgeous, sun-dappled shots of foresty Japan with the usual bursts of violence and dapper characters. Think Dick Tracy but Japanese and crazier. I then saw his sweet family drama Taste of Tea and the bonkers anthology Funky Forest (and Ishii's web-only semi-related segments that followed) before backtracking to Party 7, which revolved in the same crime-riddled world as Sharkskin Man… yet managed to be even more hyperbolized, even chattier, even more deviant and colorful. The chattiness probably turned some people off, particularly non-Japanese speakers (I found a lot of the dialogue hilarious), but Party 7's classic opening sequence, streamlined anime like Ishii's famous contribution to Kill Bill, remains legendary. Which is why I don't get why Ishii remains a cult director in the States. You'd think his cocktail of Yakuza punks, bizarro humor, fast pacing and colorful characters would be a sellable option…yet it seems there are those filmgoers who know him for his more sentimental (and psychedelic) output (Taste of Tea, Funky Forest) and those who know his earlier crime-comedies (Sharkskin Man…, Party 7). And don't get me started on Ishii's Yama no Anata, Sorasoi and Strawberry Seminar (the latter of which I've seen partially online) — more serious outputs within the realm of the most humanistic parts of Taste of Tea, the most atmospheric bits of Funky Forest (think the "Babbling Hot-spring Vixens" segments, but more burbling water and wind in the trees) — which to my knowledge have NEVER shown stateside. This is a great disservice to an incredible, creative contemporary auteur and just added to my excitement for Smuggler. As in: ANYTHING new from Ishii was already good in my books.
Thank goodness he didn't let me down. Ishii's signature humor is stitched into Smuggler's storyline throughout, but this is w/o doubt Ishii's darkest, most violent film. The brutality hinted in his past works (particularly the anime sequences in Kill Bill and the opener to Party 7) manifest in sharp and extended relief here. While Sharkskin Man… involved a lot of bloodshed and bullets, a good deal of that occurred in the cover of night or was mostly left to the imagination. Not in Smuggler, where yakuza heavy Kawashima (a wildly eyebrowed Masahiro Takashima) smacks crime-world envoy Yamaoka (Yasuko Matsuyuki, varying her outfits across the Gothic Lolita spectrum) in the face, and blood continually flows from her nose as she collects herself and makes a phone-call from him. Nor in the decimation doled out by hyper-villain Vertebrae's (Masanobu Ando, scarred up and sinewy, easily outdoing his crazed Kiriyama role in Battle Royale by like 1000%) nunchucks, as he takes down a room of Yakuza thugs and gangleader (all buddies of Kawashima, incidentally) in bullet-time ultraviolence. Nor, finally, in Kawashima's prolonged torture of Kinuta (Satoshi Tsumabuki, who I recognized as Akemi's BF in Michel Gondry's superior segment of Tokyo!), the out-of-work actor and titular smuggler (as in, smuggling dead bodies, mediated by Yamaoka's company) posing as Vertebrae in a dangerous game of deception.
It's pretty sadistic, but Ishii deftly injects humorous doses throughout, like a particularly funny and tense mad-dogging at the convenience store, run by Ishii regular Yoshiyuki Morishita (Kill Bill-ers will remember him as the graveyard-smiling salary-man who gets gutted by schoolgirl assassin Chiaki Kuriyama), where truckdriver Jo (Ishii regular Masatoshi Nagase, weathered and world-weary here, but still dangerous as a blade), a sort of hesitant mentor for young Kinuta in the world of smuggling, stands down Vertebrae and associate Naizou (uh, "Viscera"?) over who was first at the register. Plus cutie Hikari Mitsushima adds toughness to a mostly male cast, one-upping Yamaoka as mob-wife Chiharu, though she was the one who ordered the hit on her man, which Vertebrae gracefully "executed". Plus Ishii regular Tatsuya Gashuin (in EVERY Ishii film…I think, as twitchy hitmen in Sharkskin Man… and Party 7 and the eccentric old dude in Taste of Tea) is a welcome presence, w/ his love for fried-squid soba and his nuggets of wisdom for Kinuta. Smuggler opens on Oct 22 in Japan.

Two Eyes Staring (dir. Elbert van Strien, 2009, Belgium)

My main issue with this pretty scary ghost-possession (that hyphenation might be subjective) is its length. Elbert van Strien draws out the tale far too long, but the creepy elements and believability of young lead Lisa (Isabelle Stokkel) keep Two Eyes Staring tense and intriguing. I really dug Stokkel's performance, going from bleak and worried as her parents move her from Holland to grandmother's old house in Belgium, to wide-eyed and laughing in mini-adventures with her doting dad Paul (Barry Atsma). Seems Lisa has trouble making friends anyway, so coupled with a traumatizing move away from the world she knows, her overactive imagination hits the red as she befriends a strange young (*cough*, DEAD) girl Karen (Charlotte Arnoldy) living in the cellar of grandma's house. Meanwhile, Lisa's mother Christine (Hadewych Minis) remains distant and guarded from her daughter as she pursues a new fashion career in Belgium. Distant to the point that I really felt Christine was Lisa's step-mother, in the way she genuinely distrusts the little girl, particularly as Lisa's relationship w/ Karen strengthens and she begins uncovering secrets from Christine's past. Two Eyes Staring epitomizes slow-burn thriller, but I was so pleased with Stokkel's performance that I'd see it again. Plus, apparently Charlize Theron is optioning it for an English language remake.

Yakuza Weapon (dirs. Tak Sakaguchi and Yudai Yamaguchi, 2011, Japan)

I had the pleasure of previewing the two new and very strong Sushi Typhoon titles Yakuza Weapon and Karate-Robo Zaborgar (review below) in NYC, though Fantastic Fest was the first time I saw them on the big-screen. Now Yakuza Weapon, the combo directorial effort by Yudai Yamaguchi (participating in upcoming horror anthology The ABCs of Death, and director of Battlefield Baseball and Deadball fame, plus I loved his contribution to Meatball Machine) and Tak Sakaguchi (premiere Japanese schlock-action hero), should be on any action-lover's radar, as it's a very loose followup to Ryuhei Kitamura's underground classic Versus, like Rambo on shabo, that rocketed Sakaguchi onto the scene as consummate ass-kicker. And ass-kicking he does in Yakuza Weapon, bearing the strongest fight choreography of any Sushi Typhoon title to date. We're launched into it via the blitzkrieg opening sequence in the South American jungle, with Shozo (Sakaguchi) systematically dispatching each and every armed thug before heading back to Tokyo. There, he learns his familiar Yakuza world has been shattered by dad's right-hand man Kurawaki (the dapper and unhinged Shingo Tsurumi, one-upping his platinum-coiffed attack-dog persona from Katsuhito Ishii's Sharkskin Man and Peach-hip Girl), and Shozo's confrontation leads to a skyscraper's demolition, plus Shozo in a government medical facility with a cannon on his arm and a rocket launcher in his leg. Cue more ass kicking! The buzzed about 4+ minute one-take fight scene that follows here, where Shozo takes on waves of Kurawaki's henchmen with his fists, feet and eventually cannon and rockets over two levels of the facility is properly, singularly superb. If Oldboy set the tone for video-game-style one-take action via a side-scrolling brawl b/w a hammer-wielding Oh Dae-su and dozens of heavies, Yakuza Weapon throws that into three dimensions, as Yamaguchi maneuvers a hand-held gracefully around whole rooms and up staircases, following the violence. The coup de grace follows in the lithe form of Sumire (Cay Izumi, her athleticism as leader of pole-dance troupe Tokyo Dolores coming into full play here), sister of Shozo's former best bud and current rival Tetsuo. See, Sumire's been engineered w/ the same technology as Shozo, only by the bad guys, turning her into a naked fembot assassin whirling around her brother whilst firing crotch rockets and mouth lasers at Shozo!

Karate-Robo Zaborgar (dir. Noboru Iguchi, 2011, Japan)

The eminently huggable and deviant Noboru Iguchi (participating in horror anthology The ABCs of Death) won the Fantastic Features "best director" award at Fantastic Fest for Sushi Typhoon charmer Karate-Robo Zaborgar, his unique take on a pre-Transformers '70s TV show for kids. The lauding behind Zaborgar is well deserved, as it's not only the most accessible Sushi Typhoon title to date but also an all-around awesome, funny film, taming down Iguchi's ultraviolence and perversion and amping up his clever use of humor and cheeky action. Plus, a story about a secret police officer (Yasuhisa Furuhara in the teen role of Daimon) whose sidekick is a karate-fighting cyborg that transforms into a motorcycle just SOUNDS badass, right? Daimon and Zaborgar clash against Sigma, the evil organization responsible for Daimon's scientist father's death. In a curious turn of events, Daimon and Sigma lead fembot Miss Borg (uber-cutie Mami Yamasaki) fall for one another, causing Zaborgar to step in and detonate both her and its own robotic essence into a ball of fire. 25 years pass and an aching, diabetic Daimon (played now by the reliable Itsuji Itao, whom careful viewers will remember as the "head" engineer in Yoshihiro Nishimura's Tokyo Gore Police) finally reunites with Zaborgar, leaving the comforts of retirement to face Sigma once again. The evil organization unleashes their super-robot, a 400-ft destroyer powered by the spirit of Android Akiko (the cute half-human, half-fembot result of Daimon's affair w/ Miss Borg), which leads Zaborgar and Daimon many many stories above Tokyo, brawling with another cyborg and Daimon's disgruntled son across canvases of swelling metal bikini and smooth flesh that is Android Akiko, as she discharges waves of radioactive destruction by chattering on her mobile phone. I absolutely loved every minute of it!

Fantastic Fest 2011 day three: CALIBRE 9, BEYOND THE BLACK RAINBOW, THE DAY, ZOMBIE ASS

Calibre 9 (dir. Jean-Christian Tassy, 2011, France)

Jean-Christian Tassy seems to subscribe to the Luc Besson/Pierre Morel school of ultra high-octane French crime-thriller, in his directorial debut Calibre 9. And I gotta hand it to him for crafting a unique love story outta the arterial spray and near-future dystopian backdrop. Namely, that of government hound Yann (Laurent Collombert, lanky exuding discomfit) and Sarah (Nathalie Hauwelle), the latter of whom spends most of the film as a disembodied voice coming from Yann's 9mm handgun. Yep, that's the twist, boys and girls: Sarah's an ex-prostitute murdered by her pimp/dealer and resurrected into the piece by her Senegalese client. Said puissant handgun leaps into Yann's hands and steers him on course to take on the hyperbolized corrupt government, led by his boss and devil incarnate, The Mayor, who pisses on his secretary, just for starters. While I never got too deep of emotion coming from Yann, placed hesitantly into this role as assassin renegade, he's at least a total opposite from his violent, misogynistic colleagues. Plus there's some sweet humor in his exchanges with Sarah the 9, enough that we can imagine what it would've been like had they met somewhere else, Sarah still alive and Yann somehow rid of his government occupation.

Beyond the Black Rainbow (dir. Panos Cosmatos, 2011, USA)

I'd been aching to see Beyond the Black Rainbow since missing it at Tribeca Film Festival due to a personal scheduling error. Damn it! Thankfully for me, Panos Cosmatos' intense head trip of a throwback sci-fi thriller was more than worth the wait. I can't wait to see it again and own it on DVD, but seeing it in the theatre was truly the way to go. Bit of caution: Cosmatos' film is foggily linear, super slo-mo, high on psychedelic visuals and immersive Moog-driven soundtrack (courtesy Black Mountain's Jeremy Schmidt), and low on dialogue (besides cryptic exchanges) and clues. Let yourself fall deep into it, though, and you're in for a sensorially mesmerizing two-hour voyage.
We're in the year 1983, steeped in Reagan-era paranoia, in the "happy reality" lent by Arboria, a clandestine research complex with good vibes drugs and a secret garden. Dr. Barry Nyle (Michael Rogers) speaks in measured tones to the camera and to his lead subject, Elena (first-timer Eva Allan — ineffably incredible!). Nyle keeps Elena ensconced in a mirrored white room, apparently keeping her awesome psionic powers in check via a glowing pyramid structure in the center of the institute. Who is she to him, and who is her mother to him? What would happen if she escapes captivity — would Elena be in danger, or Nyle…and therefore the greater world? Cosmatos breaks up long-take shots with orange juice-box colored dissolves and white-noise static (the color palette on Beyond the Black Rainbow is singularly bold and eerie). Subjects are mostly show in cropped close-up, off-center from the action, or far in the distance (like Nyle's many views of Elena via CCTV). A sci-fi chiller that strongly follows in Tarkovsky's footsteps, straight out of Metal Hurlant's enthralling world. It's one huge breath of fresh air to the sci-fi genre, even horror in general, and I await more from this cinematic alchemist. With Black Rainbow, I was a junkie from the start.

The Day (dir. Doug Aarniokoski, 2011, USA)

Lots of awesome directorial debuts at the fest this year. The Day comes from Robert Rodriguez protege Doug Aarniokoski, and though I went into it w/ little expectations beyond 1) Shannyn Sossamon and 2) post-apocalyptic, consider me GREATLY impressed. After a brief and jarring opening sequence, half- home invasion and half- zombie-esque, we're thrown straight into "present day", a ruined landscape of forest and fields, bleakly desaturated in color, and a band of five heavily-armed young people. Rick (Dominic Monaghan) appears the apropos leader as he guides his team of Henson (Cory Hardrict, playing a sickly yet courageous big guy), Shannon (Sossamon, passionately evil), Adam (Shawn Ashmore, tough and untrusting) and Mary (Ashley Bell, which I think is my first time seeing her post- The Last Exorcism, and does she ever shine in The Day!) to an abandoned farmhouse for shelter. They're partially fleeing the elements (for Henson's recover and their own mutual comfort), plus they need to stock up on supplies. They're also being trailed by something…first one black-clad guy running wildly at Mary as she bathes by the riverbed (she dispatches him with vicious swiftness), then bands of them like ravenous bloodhounds, ostensibly attuned to the quintet's scent and pulse. Fleeting moments of bliss, like Shannon and Rick bathing together upstairs in a sun-glinting rainshower, all the guys wisecracking on their shared high-school memories, all this quickly segues into hulking shards of visceral violence. The antagonists, led by a mohawked Mike Ecklund and armed with spears and blades, aim to storm the farmhouse by any means necessary. The quintet bears down with firing weapons and a finite number of bullets — plus Mary's various accoutrements — and is that a defector in their midst, someone playing both sides? In the realm of post-apocalyptic films, I'd sooner compare this to Michael Haneke's harrowing Time of the Wolf, over any American production (definitely NOT The Road). And if this is truly one chapter of Aarniokoski's chaotic near-future world, I can't wait to see what follows next, or what precedes it that leaves people killing others for a shot at survival.

Zombie Ass (dir. Noboru Iguchi, 2011, Japan)

The world premiere of Zombie Ass, Noboru Iguchi's opus to perversion particulars and prodigious posteriors, was, for me, absolutely unmissable. In fact, I dug it so much I saw it twice, as anal alien parasites and scat-covered zombies aren't exactly a marketable option, stateside or otherwise. But from the title sequence, with cutie Cay Izumi dancing in her jean cutoffs in psychedelic soap bubbles, I was a helpless case, willingly drawn in to Iguchi's deliciously deviant world. The plot in brief involves a road-trip to the woods, with karate-equipped school-girl Megumi (Arisa Nakamura) still guilt-riddled over the death of her younger sister, and older friends Aya (cutie Mayu Sugano), her druggie BF Tak (Kentaro Kishi, totally lapping up the stereotypical tough guy role), snobby Maki (AV idol Asana Mamoru, signature Iguchi casting!) and nebbish Naoi (the mop-topped musician Danny). Maki's keen to find a trout infected with a tapeworm so she can maintain her skinniness and get more acting gigs. Seriously. One of her lines when Tak comes onto her, unbeknownst to Aya (seriously, why is she with that guy?!) is "I don't want drugs! I want tapeworms!" Her mission is a success, but it leaves Maki with horrific indigestion, farting away — as Iguchi's camera lovingly trains on her ass — whilst seeking bathroom relief in an adjacent farmhouse. You think it's weird yet? Just wait: Maki's suffering stems from said "tapeworm", actually an alien parasite growing within her that's been carefully bred by the farmhouse's crazy doctor (Kentaro Shimazu, restrained here if you can believe that) to help cure his sickly and ultraviolent daughter Sachi (Yuki, and never has a laughing girl wielding twin yanagi-ba knives been so sinister). Plus there are zombies, like the shit-covered one portrayed by renaissance man and Iguchi regular Demo Tanaka, emerging from an outhouse to slap at Maki's ass before leading a legion of trudging undead, each controlled by matured anal alien parasites to attack her friends. Iguchi tosses in classic Iguchi moments — particularly Aya and Megumi's sweetly curious shower scene, plus lots of bonkers one-liners like "cut the cheese, bitch!" and "I killed him with my butt!" — whilst throwing curveballs at the zombie genre. Like the pack of anal-affected advancing ass-first in a scuttling crab-walk towards our heroes. Like Megumi, armed with a parasite-nullifying enema and jet-powered flatulence, taking on the mutant dragon-esque alien queen and slasheriffic Sachi simultaneously in a midair battle. Yes, that really just happened. I truly hope this cheeky (pun intentional) gem from Iguchi's overactive imagination returns, sharing the love of derrieres and the walking dead with the greater world.

Fantastic Fest 2011 day two: MILOCRORZE: A LOVE STORY, INVASION OF ALIEN BIKINI, EXTRATERRESTRIAL, SLEEP TIGHT, REVENGE: A LOVE STORY

I really dug how the first and final film I saw today had "a love story" in their titles. They couldn't be more different.

Milocrorze: A Love Story (dir. Yoshimasa Ishibashi, 2011, Japan)

The supernova visual and grimy-ass, circa '94 Bristol drum'n'bass beat that welcome Milocrorze's title screen — the feature debut of CM/TV wunderkind Yoshimasa Ishibashi — is a delightful harbinger for the color explosions, elastic visuals and emotional rollercoasters contained within. And props must be due to lead Takayuki Yamada, shedding his insouciant eye-candy looks (from Gantz to Crows Zero to the spoiled nephew turned hero in 13 Assassins) for EVERY MALE LEAD in this film. He's Besson Kumagai, straight outta Swingin' London set in Shibuya, barking impassioned advice to lovelorn youth ("I give great advice to wimpy assholes!") before shouting "1,2,3,4!" and launching into one of many coordinated dance sequences with his boob-buoyant backup girls. He rolls in a zebra-striped car (still dancing w/ aforementioned honeys), talks on a wood-grain car-phone, and dispenses such tidbits as tweaking a woman's nipples on the first date (no hesitation, or she'll punch you!) and asking for condoms repeatedly at a grocery store to make the entire gravure idol-like female staff fall head over heels for you. Yamada's also Tamon, a noble samurai caught in some dystopian jidaigeki, searching for the love of his life Yuri (Anna Ishibashi, perennially surrounded by gorgeous blooms) amid Tusken Raider-like thugs and Taisho City madams. His quest from dive bars to irezumi dens leads to a geisha parlor re-imagined as a Kabukicho soapland and bears an unbelievably badass time-stretched swordplay sequence, as Tamon lays waste to every MFer in his way as he tirelessly searches for his girl. And finally Yamada's the adult version of Ovreneli Vreneligare, an orange-haired mop-top dressed in acid-green plaid and fuchsia trousers, who was just a precocious kid when he first encountered the lovely Milocrorze (absolutely NOT a real Japanese word, but when said in Japanese it sounds kind of like "miracles"). Ovreneli's been pining for the fickle Milocrorze ever since, and it's this underlying theme of heartbreak and genuine human emotion that carries Milocrorze beyond its glittery exterior and straight into our hearts.

Invasion of Alien Bikini (dir. Oh Young-doo, 2011, S.Korea)

Think about this for a bit: Yubari Fantastic Film Festival's Grand Prix award includes prize money totaling like USD 25,000. Oh Young-doo's second feature film Invasion of Alien Bikini — the title alone equalled a personal must-see — was made for about USD 5,000. And he won the Grand Prix, the first foreign director to do so at Yubari, AND he's a native Korean to boot. So a film titled Invasion of Alien Bikini is basically as awesome as you might think, despite its lack of budget. The everyman Young-gun (Hong Young-gun, co-writer of Alien Bikini and star of Oh's previous film The Neighbor Zombie) is properly brawny and awkward, donning a fake mustache whenever he's protecting neighbors from societal evils and lecturing at length on the health benefits of yam juice. His counterpart, the "bikini" in the title, is the gorgeous Harmonica (Ha Eun-jung, also in The Neighbor Zombie), who claims her name means "the peach tribe came out of the winter mud" and comes onto Young-gun after he saves her from a group of dodgy thugs in a brawl echoing Oldboy and Kick-Ass simultaneously. The pair play Jenga in Young-gun's tiny flat, and the brush of foreheads, the passing touch of hands grasping for the same Jenga block — paused for a bit for a Rolex commercial! — lead to the two making out, first tentatively, then aggressively, as Harmonica tries to jump his bones and begs for his sperm. Because it's not really Harmonica talking, it's the alien inside her, using her body as host to regenerate itself…and those thugs from the beginning are really like government scientists frantically pursuing the alien. Thing is: Young-gun's practically straightedge, i.e. no drugs, no alcohol and definitely NO SEX. There's gonna be a brawl as possessed Harmonica tries every means necessary to get what "she" needs. Oh keeps the pace percolating and camera angles creative and seductive, so the shoestring budget never shines through this pretty sexy, pretty dark gem of a film.

Extraterrestrial (dir. Nacho Vigalondo, 2011, Spain)

What exactly is the "extraterrestrial" in Fantastic Fest darling Nacho Vigalondo's new film Extraterrestrial? Is it the dozens of several mile-wide UFOs hovering over Spain, resulting in a citywide evacuation one quiet Sunday morning? Is it Julio (the excellent Julián Villagrán), the new visitor waking in a bed that's not his, after purportedly sleeping with a woman he doesn't really know? Is it Julia (the stunning Michelle Jenner), the obvious subject of attention for Julio, next-door neighbor/weirdo Angel (Carlos Areces), and — oops! — her live-in boyfriend Carlos (Raúl Cimas)…you know, the whole "women are from Venus" angle? Despite Julio's obvious attraction to Julia — at one quietly intimate point turning the DV camera he'd had trained on a nearby UFO to instead record Julia asleep — once friendly, trusting dude Carlos arrives, it becomes clear that Julia's warmed to Julio. Vigalondo deftly portrays the intricacies and difficulties of a love triangle, or Julio loving Julia, Julia loving Julio but still with Carlos, Carlos trusting Julio and loving Julia…and Angel discovering the two J's affair and trying to alert Carlos (at one point, Angel installs himself at an adjacent balcony with a ball-machine, launching tennis balls inscribed with "JULIA FOLLA CON JULIO" into their flat). The two J's tender, growing affection, despite the possible futility of it all, is really the key here, and that big spaceship outside is more a metaphor for that mysterious thing called "love".

Sleep Tight (dir. Jaume Balaguero, 2011, Spain)

To say I'd been anticipating Jaume Balaguero's latest feature film would be a grave understatement. Besides his writing and co-direction credits to the phenomenal REC and REC2, his solo directorial chillers The Nameless and Fragile burrowed deep under my skin with their respective atmospheric dread and creative scares. Sleep Tight is not horror, but it's damn terrifying and intense. When the film opens w/ Cesar (Luis Tosar, played the bruiser Malamadre in Cell 211) leaving a woman's bed in the early dawn hours, showering, dressing in uniform and taking his position at the apartment complex's front desk, we think: OK, so he's getting some. Then we see that woman again, sunny young resident Clara (Marta Etura, played Elena in Cell 211), jamming out to her iPod and greeting Cesar on her way out, we think: they're having a little role-play here to disguise their clandestine relationship. Next time we see them, though, Cesar's hiding under her bed, carefully drugging her w/ chloroform or something before getting in bed with her…and this situation just got WAY more twisted. He's been tainting her body creams and lotions with sodium hydroxide and even uses her damn toothbrush as if it were his own. Hell, we get the impression he's sleeping with her, too, unbeknownst to Clara, except she wakes up more lethargic by the day, her complexion reacting wildly to her creams. There's a girl in the building who knows of Cesar's sick relationship, and he alternately bribes and ultimately threatens her to shut up about it, as his feelings for Clara resort to rage when her U.S.-residing boyfriend returns to shack up with her. Yet you might just surprise yourself by feeling a bit of empathy for Cesar, who despite his obsessions simply really really likes her, but if only he could just tell her rather than going through all these covert maneuvers, pushing himself gradually, dangerously close to discovery.

Revenge: A Love Story (dir. Ching-Po Wong, 2011, Hong Kong)

Ching-Po Wong's Revenge: A Love Story — truly an apt title — is, in my opinion, right up there with Tom Six's The Human Centipede 2 (Full Sequence) in terms of onscreen brutality. Violent dispatches filmed from above bookend this whirlwind of decimating retribution, set off by a bunch of abusive cops. We're not allowed to breathe: Wong dives straight into the murder targets, young pregnant women, their unborn babies ripped from their wombs, hemorrhaging a slow death. The women's husbands are killed too, and they're all police officers. The cops locate the killer Kit (Juno Mak, co-writer of the film) and torture him into talking, at one point shoving a long needle into his ear. But Kit's got little to say except that the cops are trying to set him up AGAIN. Meanwhile, a young woman Wing (J-AV idol Sora Aoi, and full disclosure half my reason for attending the film) eviscerates her own womb, instilling an alibi for Kit's supposed killings. Cue the backstory: Kit the steamed dumpling seller, Wing the space-case cutie who runs away with him after he saves her from a torturous life in a squalid girls' home. Their moments of revery at a Christmas light-illuminated playground at night is fleeting, though. They crash with a neighbor, who just happens to be the madam of a prostitute ring, and when Kit leaves to open up his nearby dumpling stand, Wing receives a "guest", the chief of police. When Kit and Wing report the attempted rape to the neighborhood police, the full reveal ensues, as Kit is beaten and handcuffed to watch the officers take turns with Wing. Then the violence is pinned on him and he's sent away to prison for six months.
Damn! When he emerges, fingerprint-less (thanks to a gruesome sequence of him tearing each one off), he and a very pregnant Wing reunite, but revenge consumes him and that's what we're going to get and then some. There's an outrageous slo-mo chase sequence in a field, where a squad car does a midair flip just next to Kit as he sprints away, that must be seen to be believed, it's that awesome. But happiness on this earth isn't in store for the lovers, their blissful existence forever shattered by the very uniforms who are supposed to be protecting them. Wong's film was produced by Josie Ho and 852 Films, the same company behind Pang Ho-cheung's harrowing Dream Home. If that one was Hong Kong's best take on the slasher genre, then Revenge is its torpedo to true love.

Fantastic Fest 2011 day one: BLIND, HAUNTERS, THE HUMAN CENTIPEDE 2 (FULL SEQUENCE), PENUMBRA

Let's dive in.

Blind (dir. Ahn Sang-hoon, 2011, S.Korea)

This is only my second Fantastic Fest, but with that in mind I can plainly say Ahn Sang-hoo's Blind is one of my all-time favorites at the fest, and a far stronger opening than anything from last year (mind you, I wasn't in town for Let Me In). Even after seeing loads other films — 17 at the time of this posting — Blind continues to resonate as a complex, chilling, thoroughly Korean thriller.
It begins with two camera treatments, actions shots of a b-boy contest in some dingy club vs. a first-person point of view of somebody rushing to break the show up. That gaze belongs to Min Soo-ah (a wonderful Kim Ha-neul), a tough and headstrong cop, who busts in there and nabs the dancer Dong-hyun, her younger bro, practically mid-windmill. She's ragging on him, he's whining and struggling to get back in the club, so Min pulls rank and handcuffs Dong-hyun inside her squad car, pealing out onto the rain-soaked night streets. BAM - horrific collision on an overpass, sending a bloodied Min sprawling in the roadway, the camera returning to first-person to show her gradually blurring vision, her brother pleading for her as the police car teeters dangerously over the side. Min crawls towards it, passes out, the car slides off the ledge onto the freeway below. BAM.
Cut to three years later. Min's fired from the police force — not because she's blind, they claim, but because she abused her power (like handcuffing her little brother inside a car, way to play the blame game). She's perfectly mobile around home and Seoul with her trusted seeing-eye dog Wisey, a beautiful golden labrador and totally another three-dimensional character in Ahn's film. But immediately we see her struggles: drivers honk at her and call her a retard if she hesitates in crossing an intersection; she tries cooking for herself and cuts and scalds her hands. Min leaves Wisey at home one day and, taking her walking stick, visits the sanctuary-like orphanage House of Hope, where she and her bro spent their formative years. Ahn selectively amplifies sounds here, as Min recalls the house's layout, from the staircase to grandfather's clock to portable heater. She de-telescopes her walking stick whilst waiting at a taxi stand for a ride back to town (another night of dousing downpour) and, in frustration of waiting seemingly hours for a cab (everyone around her, ignorant of the fact she can't see, nabs each incoming taxi), sticks out her arm and successfully lands a ride. Only… is it a taxicab? A second branch of this story, delivered by Ahn in taunting, measured bites, is that young women from Min's neighborhood have been disappearing, drugged and kidnapped by a predator handy with sedatives and brutality. And he, Myeong-jin (Yang Yeong-jo, devolving from a suave, venomous cobra to a berzerking Jason/Michael Myers hybrid) just happened to be driving the very much NOT cab-like Peugeot that picked her up. In a turn of twisted events, Min manages to escape him (or rather, is thrown from his car), but when she returns to the police station to report the previous night's shadiness, she sets off a whole explosive domino effect of pulse-quickening cat and mouse.
SPOILERS!!!!!
One of the awesomest, nerve-wracking examples occurs in the subway, with Min and Wisey dashing through corridor after spotless corridor, aided by the video-mode feature on her iPhone (and guided, via audio jack, by nervy teen Gi-sub (Yoo Seung-ho, just sulky enough) — once an opportunistic jerk trying to cash in on Min's first encounter w/ the killer, now a target himself), with Myeong-jin in hot pursuit. Like: they're full-out running here, a blind woman with a seeing-eye dog and a perfectly healthy sadist with a penchant for scalpels. It also concludes w/ one of the film's most intense scenes, as Wisey courageously saves Min, growling and struggling with Myeong-jin, pulling him from a lift so Min can escape, never letting go even as he wildly stabs at her hide. It's incredibly intense, particularly if you're an animal lover, which is why I caution it. Yet, it's so well played: Wisey's dedication to her owner and Min's redoubled resolve to face the murder and take him down.
And Min's really the only one to do it. Despite the entire police force out looking for the guy (and Detective Ho, peppering his frantic comedy w/ set phrases like "this is bonkers!", at her side), it's Min utilizing her keen senses (the smell of lighter fluid, the sound of footsteps and raindrops) and her police-trained ass-kicking ability that puts her firmly on par w/ the killer.

Haunters (dir. Kim Min-suk, 2010)

Take one gifted young rake w/ psionic powers (he can make you break your neck, freeze in place or kill somebody) whose the epitome of evil (Gang Dong-won, a total 180 from the buttoned-up lead in Lee Myung-se's M). Pit him against a working-class bloke who bears incredible regenerative powers (he's hit by multiple cars throughout, plus other forms of projectile violence etc) AND is immune to mind control. That's Kyu-nam (TV star Koo So). What do you get? From the assistant director and screenwriter of The Good, The Bad, The Weird, you get Haunters, a bizarrely titled (Korean original title is closer to Psychics) an awesomely complex Korean superhero/sci-fi/action-comedy hybrid.
It bears mentioning that Kyu-nam's buddies Bubba and Al provide tech-savvy and comic relief that might go sorta unnoticed until you realize Bubba's from Ghana and Al from Turkey, yet these two dudes are basically fluent in Korean. But you'll probably notice that straight off (other characters continually bring the subject up, anyway). So mystery man's rub is sneaking into pawn shops, hypnotizing the staff to hand over all the money — done under stealth so the CCTVs don't pick up anything weird. And while Kyu-nam's out literally saving everyone, he has a run-in w/ mystery man that spirals into an all-out, nigh-apocalyptic showdown. Literally Kyu-nam vs. the world, or every resident of Seoul that comes in contact w/ mystery man. Director Kim doesn't give too much away, like origin stories for our main protagonist and antagonist, and that's a good thing. Better to dive straight into the action, knowing "this guy is good" and "this guy is bad, and he's gotta be stopped or else".

The Human Centipede 2 (Full Sequence) (dir. Tom Six, 2011, Netherlands)

To those who have seen Tom Six's notorious horror film The Human Centipede: did it not shock you enough? Did you like want to see the surgery and aftereffects in greater detail? Did you find yourself laughing at inopportune moments? Did you then dare Six to like REALLY bring it in his promised sequel, The Human Centipede 2 (Full Sequence)?
Guess what? He absolutely extremely did. And if you found part one too shocking or too graphic and offensive for your tastes, well this one is like a billion times more brutal. Like Six explained at the Q&A of HCII's world premiere, part one was psychological: setting the tone, calling it "medically accurate", putting the notion and effect in our heads. Part two, therefore, is the physical, the big reveal, all the gory details.
It's as grimy and damp as the first film was clinical and pristine, set mostly in an underground car-park in London (where new antagonist Martin works) and a mildew-struck empty warehouse (where Martin acts out his fantasies), shot (almost) entirely in b&w. Because this squat, sweaty asthmatic is majorly obsessed with The Human Centipede, keeping a detailed scrapbook of Dr. Heiter's surgical procedures and general fanboy memorabilia. HCII even begins with the end of part one, literally, screening on Martin's laptop in his tiny office at the car-park. His modus operandi on tracking down prey is antipodean to Heiter's: Martin prefers a crowbar, sucking down hits of Ventolin in between smackdowns. He uses duct tape to seal wounds, a staple-gun over stitches, a hammer to knock out teeth. And lemme say something here: the teeth extraction scenes are severe, but for me the most acutely harsh instance of teeth extraction on film is Andrey Iskanov's unflinching Philosophy of a Knife — and further indication that a film need not be in color to be absolutely gruesome. Oh that (almost) entirely b&w quip from earlier? If you'd heard the buzz about HCII being shot in b&w w/ like "select brown highlights", one guess where those come in, after Martin's roughly assembled his very own human centipede! Thing is: Six takes it there, layering violent scene upon violent scene until it's a blur of brutality and bodily fluids w/ practically no room to take a breath. Then it's over, and I'll not give away the ending, but should you decide to see this film (coming to NYC and over a dozen other U.S. cities OCT 7 and nationwide On Demand OCT 12) and last 'til the very end, you just may be surprised at how it all turns out.
(The Human Centipede 2 image caption credit: copyright 2011 Six Entertainment)

Penumbra (dirs. Adrián & Ramiro Garcia Bogliano, 2011)

The Boglianos, maestros of chiller Cold Sweat (screened at SXSW 2011) and participant in upcoming horror anthology The ABCs of Death, deliver a sensorially jarring thriller set in ramshackle Buenos Aires. A purposefully cacophonous soundtrack, wild camerawork and lots and lots of numbing, cantankerous dialogue — mostly delivered by stuck-up lawyer Marga (Spanish actress Cristina Bondo) either on one of her many cell phone conversations or to anyone else onscreen who makes the grievous error of listening to her — equals one discomfiting view. This is compounded by the impending solar eclipse outside and the many Argentinian locals questioning Marga's wellbeing — "are you feeling OK?" — as she sets up a meet-and-greet with a supposed realtor in a vacant apartment flat whilst talking smack about how dirty Buenos Aires is and how she cannot wait to return to Barcelona. More and more visitors apparently involved with the flat's lease arrive, talking amongst themselves in encoded bursts as they seem to be plotting something sinister against Marga, something that somehow relates to the solar eclipse. Penumbra is not an easy watch, and if you're not a fan of lots of rapid-fire dialogue, the cast will probably annoy the hell out of you. But the gradual crescendo to whatever's gonna go down in the final act, as Marga's sanity starts fracturing under the unknown intentions of these many strange visitors, locked my interest, and the payoff is intense and darkly satisfying. Also! IFC Midnight just acquired all rights to Penumbra, which hopefully means you lucky people will get to see it properly, in a dark theatre.

Parting thoughts on Fantastic Fest 2010

My first Fantastic Fest totally ruled. What took me so long to attend it, as it is hosted in my alumni city of Austin TX after all? Answer: I don't know!! Last year's Japanese takeover, culminating in the secret screening (and world premiere) of Noboru Iguchi's Robogeisha and an afterparty karaoke and pole-dancing blitz, was tough enough to hear about and not attend, being stuck in NY as it were. And though we get the beyond awesome NYAFF, my favorite film festival, ever, I'm like a spoiled child wanting more. By "more" I mean: more bloodshed, more horror, more violence, more zombies, more what-the-hell-did-I-just-see??, more GENRE. The countdown for 2011's Fantastic Fest has already begun, and I can hardly wait to do it all over again.

I made it into every film I wanted to see (or tried for, anyway) w/ the glaring exception of ONE, the third secret screening, which turned out to be my hero Yoshihiro Nishimura's world premiere of Helldriver, just weeks before its proper world premiere at Spain's Sitges Film Festival (attending THAT would be a dream come true, but that's another story). I made it into one of the four secret screenings at Fantastic Fest, Mark Romanek's captivating Never Let Me Go, and the other three (Helldriver, Kim Ji-woon's punishing I Saw The Devil — please NYAFF 2011?? or sooner?? — and Andre Ovredal's Troll Hunter) all sounded dope, but I couldn't make those due to various conflicts (thought I sincerely tried w/ Helldriver). Everything I saw was in a crowded theatre w/ up to hundreds of other film devotees and fanatics like myself. The sheer degree of excitement and anticipation, plus the proliferation of beer, contributed to an atmosphere as fun and free-wheeling as it was very serious and devoted. I can safely write, too, that I none of the films I saw felt like a waste of time (the Syfy original Sharktopus is pure mind-candy, but that's the point). Though I dug everything, there were some I dug a whole hell of a lot, some that thrilled me to the degree that I will cheerlead their proper distribution in the States, I will track 'em down at other festivals and buy their DVDs legally and encourage/force my friends to watch 'em with me.

I made a little list, then, of my 21 films from Fantastic Fest 2010, in order of super-favorite all the way down to "yes I indeed saw that". So:

Cold Fish - Sion Sono ruled NYAFF/Japan Cuts 2009 w/ his epic Love Exposure. He rules Fantastic Fest w/ Cold Fish. Nothing else took it to that domain of high-emotion and unblinking gore, and even I the ever-optimist had to hold my breath and pray that daughter Mitsuko has at least SOME humanity left in her.

Man From Nowhere - If Sono-san's film had either 1) not been present at the festival or 2) slipped up in some major way, Lee Jung-beom's ultraviolent roller coaster Man From Nowhere would've reigned the day. It's still up there as one of the most intense films I've ever seen, w/ a lead duo we grow to quickly, and continually, care about.

Mutant Girls Squad - I saw and loved this Nishimura/Noboru Iguchi/Tak Sakaguchi cooperative girlie superhero gore-fest at 2010 NYAFF and I love it even more now. The cartoon violence is balanced by the fascinating, young cast, mostly J-Idols true but w/ heart-wrenching backstories of the emotive sort (instead of, say, hearts-ripped-out-of-chests sort).

The Violent Kind - Guilty pleasure, maybe, but I really really loved this genre mashup, and not just the hot cast, seriously. And I wasn't THAT drunk when I saw it, either. The Butcher Bros' new film is on my must-get list.

Never Let Me Go - The one secret screening I made it into. Romanek's adaptation of Kazuo Ishiguro's novel is a discreetly lovely, bittersweet narrative, both a break in the more action-y films I'd been viewing and a worthy place in the festival. It has a proper one-theatre run in NY right now, so local friends should go see it tout de suite.

Red White & Blue - I am not sure "looking forward to" is how I'd describe my driven anticipation for Simon Rumley's new Austin-set film, but I am thankful I saw it as I can't imagine it'll have a broad distribution beyond the festival circuit. Easily one of the most punishing (yet oddly beautiful) films I've ever seen.

13 Assassins - I was stoked when Fantastic Fest announced that Takashi Miike's samurai epic would close out this year's festival. I mean, the second half of the film, at least 60 min+, is one intricate, frenetic, ass-kicking battle scene!

Bunraku - High on visuals and action choreography, w/ witty banter and at least a skeletal plot. I think a much wider audience would totally enjoy this filmic junk food, if they can get by the "challenging" (but, in my mind, totally effective) marriage of Japanese culture w/ the Wild West, showtunes and Russian Constructivism.

Summer Wars - As a very occasional anime-viewer (I only JUST saw Perfect Blue), I'm unceasingly stunned when I see something that I actually dig, which is the case w/ this brilliantly conceived family dramedy (w/ appropriate doses of action in the cyber-world).

I Spit On Your Grave - Two points here: I willingly saw this remake, just as I willingly saw the notorious original. And the new one is wayyy more graphic.

Julia's Eyes - After about 20 films, I didn't think I had any more scaring left in me. Guillem Morales proved otherwise, in his very haunting, psychological thriller that keeps bloodshed to a bare, shocking minimum.

Rubber - So cool and so weird. An almost unclassifiable genre film, which should get proper, extensive distribution in theatres but may find itself more comfortable in an art gallery. So long as I see it again.

Sound of Noise - The masochist in me can't rank this delightful, avant-music journey any higher, but I enjoyed it immensely, as I'd suspect most of the audience did, considering the post-screening grins.

Bibliotheque Pascal - WHOA. Serious head-trip, this one. Very surreal, very dark, and its ending leaves a disquieting aftertaste like "should I really care about this person?" Rewarding, too.

Outrage - Oh he's back, Takeshi Kitano, w/ a very violent Yakuza film of Japan's best thuggish actors, double-crossing one another until nearly everyone's met an early death.

Machete Maidens Unleashed - My one bittersweet moment w/ Mark Hartley's brilliant documentary on Filipino exploitation cinema is: when/where will I EVER see proper full-lengths of the depicted films? I doubt most of these are Netflix-able...

Agnosia - Eugenio Mira's haunting, sumptuous new film was as beautiful as I'd imagined but far darker and reticent to fully reveal itself. Needs another viewing.

Fatso - It's more than a sex-comedy (or rather, masturbation comedy), seriously. It's also about being so swept up in your own self-esteem-induced fantasy world (as the antihero Rino is), that you forget that those around you, who may sincerely care very much about you, have their own problems and insecurities.

We Are What We Are - Family of ritualistic cannibals as symbol for social unrest? A very troubling, unrelenting film w/ not exactly empathetic characters.

The Dead - Not your "average" zombie film by any means. Rather, it's a journey to a fated dead end, surrounded by gorgeous panoramas of African vistas and blue skies, w/ the hobbling, hungry living dead content to slowly close in on the inevitable conclusion.

Sharktopus - Silly fun, super-low-budget exploitation, w/ an easy-on-the-eyes cast, but I saw it a full day before it premiered on Syfy so there.

Fantastic Fest 2011, save a spot for me! Oh, hey hot stuff....

(my) Fantastic Fest 2010, Thursday: JULIA'S EYES, 13 ASSASSINS

* Julia's Eyes (dir. Guillem Morales, 2010, Spain)
Spain will remind you that there needn't be gratuitous violence and bloodshed to make a film viscerally scary. Just check Guillermo del Toro's own Pan's Labyrinth, a not-for-children fairy tale whose jarring outbreaks of brutality burn unceasingly into your retinas. He produced Morales' exceedingly dark and creepy film, which uses soundtrack and ambient noise to effectively keep us on the edge of our chairs through its duration. This perpetually twilit story focuses on the titular character (played w/ athletic desperation by Belen Rueda, star of other creepy Spanish film The Orphanage), who shares a debilitating eye condition w/ her recently deceased twin sister. Julia is slowly going blind, the camera mimicking this by producing blurred fingers of shadow into the frame, but she's not letting that stop her investigation of her sister Sara's apparent suicide. Julia is absolutely, unquestionably positive that something is a bit off here, and neither her somewhat mollifying husband Isaac nor the investigators nor Sara's friends will convince her otherwise. Julia has one spine-tingling encounter w/ a quintet of blind patients who knew Sara, moving about them like they'll petrify her w/ their glassy gazes a la the Gorgons and Perseus. Her vision temporarily halted in an emergency operation, Julia is bandaged (or blindfolded), given an unseen male nurse attendant, and Morales plunges us headlong into an increasingly shadowy, claustrophobic realm. Sounds magnify here, as Julia relies more her own hearing, and figures like the nurse and a seemingly helpful girl from next door are shown always from behind or truncated in frame, so their faces are not visible, shifting the uncertainty and dread even further into the red zone. The climax isn't exactly unexpected, but Julia's struggle to overcome her terrifying affliction and face the intrusion is horrifying all the same.

* 13 Assassins (dir. Takashi Miike, 2010, Japan)
How you appropriately close out America's largest genre film festival? How about w/ Japanese gore- and horror-guru Miike-san and his gloves-off sendup to Eiichi Kudo's '63 Thirteen Assassins? A period piece both more serious and more violent than Miike's rollicking Sukiyaki Western Django, w/ a kill ratio that only a Miike film can muster. The plot, despite its depiction of late-Feudal Japan and large cast, is deceptively simple: one of the last remaining samurai Shinzaemon (no one but Koji Yakusho could've done this role justice) gathers 12 other assassins to intercept an evil, spoiled young lord Hanbei, the Shogun's younger brother and the raper of women and murderer of men, and take his ass out. The first half of the film does this, w/ backstories on Hanbei's petulant ruthlessness and on each of the assassins (incl. a rowdy mountain-dweller who scoffs at samurai but wields a sling-rock like nobody's business), plus their orchestration in turning a remote village on Hanbei's path into one very deadly pre-Saw booby trap. The second half, a cool 60+ minutes, is full-out fighting, arrows, spears, moving spiked-log walls, old-school dynamite and fireballs, and sword-to-sword clashes, as the mud grows thicker and carcasses litter the ground. We cheered at each decapitation, gasped at the level of ingenuity in the assassins' obstacles, booed when one of our heroes bit the dust, and cheered even harder when the ronin faces down and takes out like 30 guys at once. And the final showdown b/w Shinzaemon w/ Hanbei is just as electrifying and satisfying as the 55+ minutes that preceded it, w/ one more cool severed head for a punctuation mark. Miike-san, we bow down.

(my) Fantastic Fest 2010, Tuesday: MUTANT GIRLS SQUAD, COLD FISH

* Mutant Girls Squad (dirs. Noboru Iguchi, Yoshihiro Nishimura, Tak Sakaguchi, 2010, Japan)
Ever since experiencing Nishimura's Tokyo Gore Police at the 2008 NYAFF (for you don't just "watch" a Nishimura film), this unique brand of extreme body horror, coupled w/ a cadre of beautiful actresses and deviant humor, has been at the core of my festival experience. Last year everything, all my anticipation, led up to Vampire Girl v. Frankenstein Girl. I caught Mutant Girls Squad's premiere along w/ the world premiere of Alien vs Ninja at this year's NYAFF and dug 'em both so much that of course I had to see the former at Fantastic Fest. The gory amalgamation concocted by the three leading minds is a riotous party, loads of off-kilter fun that stays firmly w/in their cherry Sno-cone blood-soaked sphere whilst excelling in the bizarre beyond their previous works. It's saying something when the 1st person who gets sawed in half (like 1.5 minutes into the film) doesn't faze me — more like a gentle comfort that "yes, I'm back with you now!" — yet seeing a girl get her face trisected vertically reminds me: they've found ANOTHER way to do that, awesome! Good news: the talent is hot. Iguchi (and I'm pinning Iguchi w/ this one) has an eye for leads, and the three here (Yumi Sugimoto as Rin, Yuko Takayama as Rei, and Suzuka Morita as Yuki) have backgrounds as gravure idols, though Takayama, the overall meanest of the lot, is also the lead in upcoming action drama Hana no Asuka-gumi NEO. More good news: perennial Iguchi/Nishimura collaborators Asami and Cay Izumi — two of the baddest-ass actresses I have the pleasure of knowing — take their action careers to new levels, w/ Asami as the retainer for the Tokyo police force (wielding two swords in what I think is called "niten-ichi-ryuu") and Cay as a Lolita-esque character w/ swords coming out her boobs. Oh I haven't mentioned the mutant girls yet: think of X-Men, only they're all young hot fashion models w/ bizarre, body-horror mutations (ass-chainsaw, the aforementioned sword-boobs) and instead of Professor X we get Tak Sakaguchi in drag (think a svelte Robert Smith). Directors Nishimura and Iguchi both cameo and die. Cay and Asami die as well, rather violently and creatively the both (I must wonder what remains in these directors' bag of tricks for creative killings, but I've no doubt they've got a LOT of surprises remaining). Kanji Tsuda (the wacked-out professor-slash-Dr. Frankenstein in Vampire Girl v. Frankenstein Girl) returns as Rin's smiley dad, but mainly as a decapitated talking head atop her floating birthday cake, in an extremely '80s-psychedelic sequence that recalls that coffee-drinking screensaverish bit on Earthbound, only w/ Tsuda's decapitated talking head atop a floating birthday cake. Another killer juxtaposition: Rin and Rei slow-dancing, inter-cut w/ Sakaguchi as this avian mutation, cackling and killing Tokyo PD, whilst Yuki fights a slashed-up, fire-throwing Sayako Nakoshi (Nishimura's omnipresent "wrist-cut girl"). I loved every minute of it.

* Cold Fish (dir. Sion Sono, 2010, Japan)
When one of your idols — in my case, Sono-san — has a new creation, you want more than ever for it to exceed your expectations. And I wondered how Sono-san could top the harrowing, deviant religion-themed Love Exposure that wowed me and no doubt most who caught it at 2009's NAFF. Plus, he created one of my favorite films of all time, Noriko's Dinner Table, a darkest of dark family dramas. How could he outdo both the emotional resonance of his previous oeuvre plus cull up some ultraviolence to shock even those who brushed off the blood geysers in Suicide Club as been-there-done-that? He delivers big time w/ Cold Fish, a volatile cocktail of madness, double-talk and dismemberment, that bursts into CM-edited action straightaway (a door-slamming, jump-cut microwave dinner prep scene) and never lets up until the screen blacks out. Sono-san's trademark troubled family remains the film's core: meek dad Shamoto (Mitsuru Kukikoshi) runs a tropical fish store w/ his disobedient teenaged daughter, Mitsuko (Hikari Kajiwara) and her hot, barely older stepmom Taeko (Megumi Kagurazaka), and it's clear from the sullen dinner table opener that Mitsuko hates Taeko and vice-versa. MItsuko gets nabbed shoplifting and, in a total deluge of rain, Shamoto and Taeko fetch her from the jovial Murata (Denden), a larger-than-life character w/ a salesman's grin & a silver tongue. He also runs a tropical fish store, like 10 times larger than Shamoto's, and invites them by. There, he offers Mitsuko a job & board in exchange for writing off her shoplifting, where she joins Murata's small army of hot young employees (all of them clad in army cut-offs and white tanktops), and the family meets Murata's equally hot young wife Aiko (Asuka Kurosawa). The family is swiftly won over by Murata's charms, the women 1st, then Shamoto, and all seems hunky-dory until Murata kills a man and blackmails Shamoto to assist him in body disposal. The darkness permeating the film thus far (you just KNOW the family's got issues) explodes to the surface at a frenetic pace. For those doubting Sono-san's ability to edit, considering Love Exposure's 4+ hour runtime, Cold Fish operates in near fast-forward, and w/ Murata's constant cheery-to-belligerent banter and Shamoto's growing franticness, we never get a moment to breathe. It's also tough to watch: the cringe-worthy moments, like Shamoto's eventual manic-takeover, where he growls at and punches his wife and daughter and takes over the butcherings, compete w/ a slo-mo chase scene in and around the "kill room" in Murata's mountain cabin. Here, Shamoto and Aiko slide around a gore-streaked bathroom, tripping over entrails and fighting one another (he conks her over the head w/ a Virgin Mary bust, one of the many religious articles in this cabin, but doesn't kill her) back to the kitchen then down the hall into the bathroom once again, until Shamoto emerges outside, his white shirt now pinkish-red. But for all the assaultive violence, this remains Sono-san's social entreaty, that the core family was doomed from the start (Taeko was never happy and cheats on Shamoto w/ Murata, Mitsuko is spoiled and distant from Dad, Shamoto is sex-crazed and passive-aggressive), and MItsuko's hysteric reaction when she finally faces her father jolts us back to this bleak reality.