FrightFest 2020 digital - day 2

Okay, got a handle on this digital edition stuff, and it's running pretty smoothly. Oh, there have been a few connection scares but a quick set-up adjustment and I've missed nothing yet. The promos and the skits and the Q&As are delightful as always. It's got me wondering if the festival can't do something consistently online this way... even if just for the short film showcases?

THERE’S NO SUCH THING AS VAMPIRES

Logan Thomas, 2020, USA

Director Logan Thomas – a very agreeable fellow in the follow up Q&A – says that he has to research a lot before he invests in a project, because he’ll be directing, scoring, shooting, etc, but ‘There’s No Such Thing as Vampires’ offers only standard genre thrills. Vacuous beefcake Joshua (Josh Plasse) gate-crashes a midnight showing of ‘Nosferatu’ and disturbs every one of the half-dozen audience. From there, he crashes into Ariel’s (Emma Holzer) life and brings with him an ancient vampire in hot pursuit. Logan cites ‘Mad Max’ as an inspiration, just for that drive-in good time, and the film stops for a John Carpenter and ‘Halloween’ tribute, but as it’s based around an vampire RV cruising open North American desert roads there’s a heavy ‘Near Dark’ vibe. The epic score occasionally reminds of Tangerine Dream too, so that adds to the feel. It descends into that vampire lore stuff that seems more derived from the kind of vampire thing that TV shows like ‘Buffy’ set as standard; and then it doesn’t-really-end so maybe there’s meant to be a sequel. Meg Foster turns up as Sister Exposition to chew scenery, and other bonuses are that it’s nicely shot and has a decent vampire mask design.

 

12 Hour Shift

Brea Grant, 2020, USA

Black humour horror farce set around black market organ trading during one hospital shift. Our main female protagonists are unscrupulous, the men are mostly clueless if not absurd. The central conflict is between corrupt nurse Mandy (a wonderful Angela Bettis) and her loose cannon cousin (by marriage) Regina (an equally beguiling Chloe Farnworth) when the latter’s waywardness loses/forgets some organs. Elements pile up in the hospital – cops, a convict, a lockdown, etc – and the joy is in seeing how everything piles up, converges and plays out. The script and contrivances are sharp and a delight, the performances uniformly great and the jet black humour is the amoral kind that horror laps up.

Brea Grant, in the Q&A, speaks of how horror is welcoming of women and certainly a premise like this allows a certain kind of female focus. The women all run rings around the men as the craziness mounts. Here is a crime caper comedy or errors where the men are something to be dealt with, where the women don’t have to play second fiddle or even equal footing with them. There are also hints of class context that, although unspoken, hints at some reason if not justification for Mandy’s behaviour. It’s a hint that, somewhere and at some time, she deserved empathy. But this kind of set-up is all about enjoying seeing the anti-hero deal with and overcome the pile on of adversity. Lots of amoral fun.

 

 

FrightFest 2020: digital edition - day 1

 

Of course, Corona19 is pretty much a horror scenario come to life. Didn't I see an article saying research shows horror fans coping better with its stresses?

Anyway, the pandemic put paid to the annual trek to London to stick my head into horror films  and, as they say, “the dark side of cinema” and not to come out for days. Dodgy eating, racing for the night bus, spending a bit much on new films at Fopps, etc. But, like everything else, FrightFest moved online, so here we are. It’s minus the casual party atmosphere and it means there’s no eavesdropping on other’s comments when leaving a film for the lobby, or overhearing the groups outside The Empire Leicester Square, or buddying with your seat neighbour, so I’m missing out there.

It’s a slimmed-down programme, but it’s great to still have it!

And I am going to take a moment to recommend the documentary Chris Collier’s ‘FrightFest: beneath the dark heart of cinema’, made by friends and acquaintances of mine. This is a great primer for those that don’t know or those that are new to it (I’m assuming devotees have already seen it), and as I’ve been going for ten years now, I remember several of those events and speeches featured. 

So to digi-FrightFest 2020.

Things started off with the Evolution of Horror podcast’s FightFest pub quiz, hosted by the very agreeable Mike Muncer. This was on YouTube and free for anyone. I got about 50% of the answers right each round, give or take, so I maybe I’m not as much of a nerd as occasionally accused. Actually, I’m just crap at trivia. But I did get a particular question in the FrightFest specific round - the question was (I’m paraphrasing): what was the film screening at FrightFest where two people were caught in a sex act. It was ‘R.I.P.D.’: two people were caught masturbating and the incident was labelled the “‘R.I.P.D.’ shuffle” (I’m pretty sure it was Paul McEvoy announced this).

The Short Film Showcase used to be on the main screen but has moved to other screens in recent years. I always enjoyed the short films but mostly just stay on the main screen. I even asked Alan Jones once if there was going to be a FrightFest short film release DVD, but he said no as it was a rights nightmare.

Even if not remarkable, the Short Film Showcase One starts off with at least agreeably quirky genre angles. Ryan Irving’s ‘Bark’ a slasher scenario told from the point-of-view of a tree; Florence Kosky’s ‘A Bit of Fun’ where a séance exposes the rifts in some housemates’ friendship; ‘Breakfast’ by Paul Beattie and Melanie Rios is decently conveyed portrayal of a woman’s descent into zombiedom; Christopher McSherry’s ‘FLESH Control’ told from the point of view of bugs and featuring agreeably clunky costumes. But ‘Subject 3’ is all set-up and then ends just as it gets going.

The second half is a stronger crop. Ordinarily I find a story’s retreat into anthropomorphosis when concerning robots and AI a weakness, but of course it depends how it’s done. Aidan Brezonick’s ‘Jeff Drives You’ does it right, concerning a self-driving car loaded with so much AI and raised empathy that it’s more a commentary on how everything is marketed to sell to the consumer’s preference, the customer’s indulgence. You know: The world revolves around you. It’s wry, darkly funny, nicely played and, considering where it goes to, convincing within its 17 minute run time.

Nat Luurtsema’s ‘Ouzo and Blackcurrant’ isn’t remarkable, but it knows what it is and does what short films do so well: a striking single location, nice performances, the hint of backstory, just enough to let us know what the trope is, and then find an angle to hinge scares on.

Similarly, Finn Callan’s ‘Guest’ uses an anxious air and one unforgettably creepy visage to power his short. Inspired by a nightmare, apparently, and it shows.

Brian Gillespie’s ‘Tarrare’ has hardly any visuals at all, just an unsettling drawing and words across the screen. It’s a tale told in narration by Ian Lassiter but it’s fully engaging for it’s one of those horror tales that’s simple and nasty and works vividly in the imagination. Alternatively, although using similar storytelling, Shaun Clark’s ‘The Beholder’ is an Edgar Allan Poe rendition that uses animation and live action for a super-short (1 minute) Gothic shock. It’s a beautiful as it is quick.

 

SKY SHARKS

Mark Fehse, 2020, Germany

Nazi-zombies riding on flying sharks, so you know that drill. And there's plenty of amusement to be had from that even if you have to sidestep the issue that Nazi's aren't perhaps so much a thing of the past that they can be harmlessly trivialised.

It starts of decently enough with the first attack on an unsuspecting flight and there’s plenty of CGI gore and breasts and that knowing homaging to 80s cheese. Oh, and there’s some family stuff. But it’s one of those meta-exploitation tributes that gets bogged down in backstory – Nazi experiments to raise the ultimate army from the undead, etc – and in plot instead of gags that the fun wears thin. Decent zombies though, and that’s where practical effects have the edge.

Tomboy

 

Writer director ~ Céline Sciamma, 

France, 2011

 

Ten-year-old Laure (Zoé Héran), seeing her chance when her family has to move due to dad’s work, presents herself as a boy to her new neighbourhood friends.

Céline Sciamma talks of ‘Tomboy’ being in part like a thriller, and indeed it is as the threat of Laure’s deception being discovered that powers the drama. We see her watching the boys play football and assessing the possibilities, how she can mimic that budding masculine bravado and rough-and-tumble. They already know her as Michaël so all options are open. But at home, she’s so sweet with her younger sister, Jeanne (Malonn Lévana), and these scenes are mostly the core of the film for being so touching and natural. Where Laure-Michaël is most at ease, probably. She’s not trying to run away from anything: it’s a loving home. She’s just exploring identity.

I have seen criticisms that the film doesn’t fully delve into its issues, but the open-endedness means it’s a film that opens the questions without judgement. Is Laure-Michaël transgender, non-binary or gay or simply boyish in a world that prescribes rigid gender roles and regulations? It is a testament to the successful androgyny that the film solidifies in Laure-Michaël that when forced to wear a dress, it just looks wrong on her. When mum reprimands her, it is for the deception rather than hint of transgressing gender roles as in ‘Pelo Melo’. There is no sense her family will reject her: that’s not where the tension is.

Orla Smith writes: “Things get more complicated when adults and Mikhael’s peers discover how they’re presenting themselves and take objection to it, a disruption of the peace and happiness Mikhael experiences before bigotry came into play.” But even here, I am hesitant to attribute their reaction primarily to learned prejudice rather than outrage at the deceit: that’s not fully how it struck me.

Certainly the scenes between the sisters are the most disarming moments because little Malonn Lévana is so amusing and charming as only young children can be. Sciamma’s triumph is in giving the kids enough space to be themselves. For example, the scene where the sisters are playing a “Guess who?” game, lying in bed, is so raw and unaffected that it is a surprise to hear it took three takes. The glee Jeanne takes in harbouring and even toying with the secret she’s been entrusted with is both delightful and suspenseful (will she be able to keep the secret??).

It’s all filmed in the bright sunshine of A Lost Childhood summer, but it isn’t troubled like ‘Summer 1993’, or unforgiving and heart-wrenching like ‘Pelo Melo’, or a pastel-hued memory as in ‘Pain & Glory’. It has a similar buoyancy and affinity for its age-group as ‘We are the Best’, but ‘Tomboy’ is even more lowkey in aesthetic. It effortlessly catches the everyday bubble of amusements of children at play, but its questions about character and identity are foremost and sympathetic. Without answers or judgement, it conveys the mysteries and confusion of forming individuality, and speaks empathically to that moment when children are wondering just what they are amongst their peers, let alone the adult world.