One of the world’s best genre-heavy festivals has been
dominating the film conversation in Montreal for over a week now and it has
over a week to go. While festival hits from around the world have had their Fantasia premiere, the programmers also cleverly scheduled major films that would be
opening in the U.S. around the same time, probably knowing that buzz for films
like “Lights Out” and “Train to Busan” would be high. However, I imagine the
key to this gigantic festival for most hardcore fans is finding the films that
aren’t getting waves of international press—the hidden gems if you will. I
tried to find one of those in the films that recently premiered, including one
produced by Ben Wheatley (“High-Rise”) and another featuring a few stars from “Sons
of Anarchy” alongside the one and only Marilyn Manson. All four films have
their drawbacks, but they also illustrate this festival’s willingness to dig
deeper than the buzz.
The best of the four is a close call but I’ll go with Michael
Borowiec and Sam Marine’s heartbreaking “Man
Underground,” a film that plays more like a drama than what fans of
Fantasia may have been expecting when it premiered. The final act has
a twist that I’m not sure the movie earns but it’s carried by truly genuine,
lived-in performances from a trio of actors who are very careful not to mock
the people they’re playing—those living on the fringe of society, and possibly
sanity.
George Basil is excellent as Willem, a loner who makes
YouTube videos and gives speeches about the day that changed his life. He was
working in a tunnel when he claims that he stumbled upon an alien form, one who
scarred him and destroyed his life. Becoming obsessed with aliens and the
government conspiracy to keep them secret, Willem drove his wife away, leaving
him with only his friend Todd (Andy Rocco) and his daily routine at the local
diner. That’s where he meets a new waitress named Flossie (the excellent Pamela
Fila), who finds him more fascinating than annoying. She even agrees to be the
leading lady in a movie he wants to make about his life and the alien forces
that have shaped it. As she becomes friends with Willem and Todd, the
filmmakers deftly walk a line in the way they portray Willem’s oddity without
ever making fun of him. In fact, when Willem goes to a dinner party in NYC,
where he could easily be the object of derision, we feel for him and hope the
fragility that Borowiec and Marine have captured isn’t shattered. Whether or
not Willem is crazy or really hunted by men in black becomes less important
than hoping he finds some resolution with his past and some hope for his
future. What could have easily become a sci-fi oddity becomes a character
study, and it’s the characters and not their belief in UFOs that resonate here.
(The film plays again at FF on August 3rd.)
There’s notably less character in “Let Me Make You a Martyr,” a pitch-black tale of vengeance,
addiction murder and other ugly habits. The script by John Swab is sometimes
annoyingly overwritten—it’s one of those projects in which everyone sounds like
they know they’re in a movie and they’ve seen every episode of philosophy-heavy
violent projects like “Sons of Anarchy”—but the film’s heavy style starts to
work in its favor, almost in the same way that noir dialogue need not sound
realistic if the actors can convey a greater meaning through it.
Niko Nicotera (“Sons of Anarchy”) stars as Drew Glass, a man
coming home to a dark corner of the Oklahoma south after six years away. His
adoptive father Larry (Mark Boone Junior of “Deadwood” and, you guessed it, “Sons
of Anarchy”) is the local crime boss, and his adopted sister June (Sam Quartin)
is deep under the thumb of drug addiction. Drew has come to save her—she’s also
the love interest—and that means killing Larry, who unleashes a vicious hit man
named Pope (Marilyn Manson) to take care of his kids before they take care of
him. In Kurt Sutter fashion, it’s downright Shakespearian in its tale of
familial vengeance.
This kind of Southern-fried journey to the heart of darkness
is tough to pull off without looking ridiculous and directors Corey Asraf &
John Swab falter often in the first act. After a few too many lines about how a
“man’s gotta have a code,” I was about ready to give up, but there’s something
there in Nicotera’s eyes—he’s not a typical leading man, and he sells the
sorrow of his character well. Manson also commits to a part that I wish he was
allowed to have a little more fun with.
There’s even less humor in Nick Gillespie’s “Tank 432,” but I found it more
consistent and enjoyed trying to pull apart the mystery at its core, while also
just appreciating it for an experiment in claustrophobia. The excellent Rupert
Evans (of Amazon’s “The Man in the High Castle” and “Hellboy”) leads a group of
soldiers through the woods. There’s gunfire and screaming in the distance. They
have prisoners in hoods. They are being hunted by something, although whether
or not that something is human, supernatural or entirely in their heads is
unclear. On the edge of a field, they find a long-abandoned Bulldog tank, and
they hole up inside for safety.
Much like Wheatley’s “Kill List” or “A Field in England”—Gillespie
worked on both as a camera operator, along with “Sightseers,” “High-Rise” and
the upcoming “Free Fire”—exactly what is happening in “Tank 432” isn’t as
important as the atmosphere the film is trying to create. Sure, the film is
loaded with questions that most viewers are going to want answered, but it’s a
movie that works more on indefinable feelings like paranoia and fear than
typical movie solutions. Some people will find it a frustrating exercise, but I
was consistently engaged, particularly in its excellent sound design and use of
space, alternating between the closed quarters of the belly of the bulldog and
the terrifying expanse outside of it. (The film plays again at FF on July 26th.)
Which brings us to “She’s
Allergic to Cats.” Movies are often called “weird” or “strange,” and they
don’t really deserve that appellation, especially at a festival as interested
in the odd as Fantasia Fest. Trust me. This one earns it. Shot on 4K and Red
cameras and then diluted through DVD replication and VHS tapes, “She’s Allergic
to Cats” is a very purposefully lo-fi movie—static, grain, bad ADR, cuts that
look like bad splices, etc.—about a young man who works as a dog groomer (Mike
Pinkney) who meets a pretty girl (Sonja Kinski, Nastassja’s daughter) after she
brings in Mickey Rourke’s pets for grooming (she’s his assistant). They agree
to go on a date. He has a rat problem and so worries about bringing her back to
his place.
Sounds simple enough, right? Did I mention that Mike is
working on an all-cat remake of “Carrie”? How about the recurring motif of
bananas falling from the sky, a nod to the fact that Mike’s rat infestation
keeps eating his yellow fruit? Slo-mo footage of a groomer video teaching
people how to express a pet’s anal glands? How about the scene in which Mike
and Cora discuss great animal movies, including “Hot to Trot,” “Congo” and “Howard
the Duck”? “She’s Allergic to Cats” is a true oddity, almost as if it’s
designed to play at midnight in arthouses that gravitate to cult movies. Or film
festivals like Fantasia.
Next Week: “Creepy,” “Little Sister” and “Tower”
