“We all saw it scrawled across the blackboard the second we stepped into Miss Lovecraft’s class…”
A disturbing and darkly humorous commentary on burgeoning adolescence and coming to terms with “the other” that is the opposite sex, Craig MacNeill’s short film, “Late Bloomer“, devotes a horrific (and hilarious) thirteen minutes to the obscene revelations that stem from biological discovery. Written and brilliantly narrated in true Lovecraftian style by Clay McLeod Chapman, this tale of a “7th grade sex-ed class gone horribly wrong” chronicles the destruction of innocence in pulpy prose worthy of the old gentleman himself.
How to describe these grotesque mockeries of natural law? Clearly hovering at the edge of sanity, both awe-struck and terrified by the frenzied hormonal horrors to which he has become an initiate, the film’s narrator recounts the events of that eldritch classroom in an eerie, quavering voice while a murky, droning soundtrack by One Ring Zero provides appropriate ambiance. It is said that MacNeill was inspired to make “Late Bloomer” while shooting a documentary on the film’s writer; one cannot view the result without imagining the horrors to which that pale, untried youth may have borne witness in the classroom.
I will not, dear reader, attempt to convince you that I have any true comprehension of Jan Švankmajer’s 1971 short film Jabberwocky, for that would most assuredly be a lie. Comprised of stop motion animation and featuring a reading of the titular poem found in Lewis Carroll’s Through the Looking Glass, and What Alice Found There, it is a film dense with seemingly impenetrable symbolism.
That poem is where the familiarity ends, the film beginning with a mysterious, moving wardrobe which opens to reveal a room that will change over the course of our journey, with the exception of the portrait of the severe, bearded man on the wall. There, we meet our hero, a child’s suit magically come to life. What follows is thirteen minutes of stop-motion insanity occasionally interrupted by the antics of a decidedly destructive black cat.
Ostensibly, Jabberwocky details the rebellion of a young man (the child’s suit) against authority or his father (the portrait) and, sure, that makes sense. What the intervening cascade of symbolism and weirdness actually means I cannot say. It is, however, certainly entertaining regardless.
It’s Friday again, and there you sit in your stale, air-conditioned office linking all your paper clips together. It’s fun, right? The end result is just really, satisfyingly uniform. I wonder is anyone has made jewelry that looks like linked paper clips. Maybe you should make some. You could sell them on Etsy. People would buy that, right? It would at least make you a couple of extra bucks to help with rent. Oooo, maybe you could make wallet chains too. The kids will eat that shit up! Maybe not. Probably not, right? I mean, even if they got popular they’d probably just get ripped off by Urban Outfitters and sold for twice the price. Man, we’re never gonna get out of this place. Oh well, at least there are still movies on the internet.
Today the FAM presents the 2007 Spanish found footage horror movie [REC], directed by Jaume Balagueró and Paco Plaza, which was remade in the US (because, as everyone knows, Hollywood will always do a better job) as Quarantine in 2008. [REC] follows TV reporter Ángela Vidal and her cameraman, Pablo, who are following a group of firefighters for a show called While You’re Asleep. At first all is normal until a call is received concerning an elderly woman trapped in her apartment. When the crew arrives they find the police have been called as well and soon break down the door. There they find the woman who looks decidedly unwell. This point is driven home when she attacks one of the officers, biting him. Not long after the building is locked down, and so begins a mad scramble to stay uninfected and find out the cause of this strange outbreak.
There have been enough found footage/shaky-cam horror movies at this point to elicit a groan from many, but of all of them, [REC] may be one of the best. Between its claustrophobic setting and constant state of confusion, [REC] does an admirable job of keeping the viewer off balance. I liked the use of a reporter as the main character, allowing for the kind of mystery solving usually ignored in this type of film in favor of jump scares. And while [REC] keeps much of its plot concerned with the immediate problems of survival, I enjoyed the slow unraveling of the greater mystery. That does lead to my one big criticism, that being the ending. The reveal of the virus’s origin and subsequent outbreak inside the apartment building seems to come way out of left field and, while functional, isn’t particularly satisfying. Overall, however, it remains a gripping experience, one which deservedly stands out in a field of increasingly drab entries.
Some thought-provoking, intense, and intensely heartrending clips from Dark Girls, an upcoming documentary by Bill Duke and D. Channsin Berry that examines “the deep-seated biases and attitudes about skin color– particularly dark skinned women, outside of and within the Black American culture.”
The film is slated for an October premier at the International Black Film Festival in Nashville. Follow Dark Girls on Facebook for updates.
An overview of the project, courtesy of creator Mauricio Baiocchi’s website:
Cicada Princess is a short film based on a children’s book by the same title, both written and produced by Mauricio Baiocchi with illustrations and character designs by Steve Ferrera.
The book is a series of images based on miniatures and sculptures that follow the life cycle of the Cicadas and the party they attend at the end of their lives. When the idea to expand it to moving pictures came about, it was decided the best way to move forward would be through live action puppetry. Steve and Mauricio have worked on numerous creative projects over the years in different mediums and were very intrigued by the possibility of merging current imaging technology with strings and springs.
The film will run approximately five minutes, and is being shot in IMAX format, slated to be completed in 2011. As an independent production, both the film and the studio are self financed.
As of today, they’re already almost halfway to their ambitious (by Kickstarter standards) goal of raising 40K, with about a month to go. Got five bucks to spare? Ten? Twenty? An independent, handcrafted stop-motion pictures of this caliber seems well worth subsidizing! The Kickstarter page is here.
Two short films for this week’s FAM; something to tide you over in preparation for the three day weekend here in the States. First up is Matter Fisher by David Prosser, the strange tale of a fisherman who finds an extremely magnetic piece of…something. Prosser’s style is dark and minimalist, lending everything a ghostly vibe. It’s a world so lonely, one has the distinct impression that the fisherman could very well be the only human being in existence.
Next is The Saga of Biôrn by the army of Benjamin J. Kousholt, Daniel D. Christensen, Mads Lundgaard Christensen, Jesper A. Jensen, Jonas K. Doctor, Steffen Lyhne, Pernille Ørum-Nielsen, Frederik Bjerre-Poulsen, Jonas Georgakakis. It tells the story of the titular Biôrn, a viking warrior whose only wish is to die in battle, so that he may enter Valhöll. This one has none of the brooding of Matter Fisher, going for a much more comedic tone. The end of Biôrn’s quest is particularly satisfying.
And there you have it, a couple of choice morsels for another Friday. Good luck on the rest of your afternoon.
A dear and lovely chum from New York, singer Robert Conroy, has just alerted us to some splendid news! The Boy Friend (1971), one of Ken Russell’s most elegantly outrageous gems, was recently released to DVD as part of the Warner Archive Collection. It’s a remastered disc of the 136-minute UK version, and it’s… oh, if you haven’t seen it before, just watch a wee bit, see what you think:
Some background info, courtesy of the YouTube clip:
Working at the height of his formidable powers, Ken Russell braids a whole new layer of story onto the hit stage musical that made Julie Andrews a star and opens it up to some astonishing flights of fancy. Wrapping a narrative frame around the original – a seaside theatrical company mounts a production of the ’20s musical spoof The Boy Friend – allows Russell, in turn, to explore and parody the conventions of ’30s musicals with elaborate fantasy sequences, slapstick, and sentiment. RESTORED DIRECTOR’S CUT/ROADSHOW presentation with Intermission and Entr’Acte, as Ken Russell intended the film to be seen. SPECIAL FEATURES: vintage “behind the scenes” making-of featurette about the film and theatrical trailer.
Philip Andelman’s meditation on the manufacturing process of the hourglass. Designed by Marc Newson’s for Ikepod, it is made from borosilicate glass and filled with millions of stainless steel “nanoballs”. Adnelman filmed this at the Glaskeller factory in Basel, Switzerland and the entire process is fascinating — a hypnotic sequence of whirling machinery and fire set to Philip Glass’s “Opening”. It’s so fascinating, in fact, that I almost wish there was some exposition if only to explain just how they measure out the aforementioned nanoballs so that each glass accurately metes out its allotted dosage of time.
A short film for today’s FAM, something to distract you, if only briefly, from your ever overflowing inbox. Seriously, fuck that inbox. Always full; one thing gets done, four things replace it. Goddamn you, inbox. You know what, don’t — just don’t even look. Look away. Look over here, for a couple of minutes.
Have a look at Connected, a short film from Jens Raunkjær Christensen & Jonas Drotner Mouritsen that manages to be even bleaker than that inbox (Editor’s Note: Shut up you ass! Don’tthinkaboutitdon’tthinkaboutitdon’tthinkaboutitdon’tthinkaboutit.) In a post-apocalyptic future, devoid of breathable air, two figures make their way across a deserted and windswept landscape, tethered together by two hoses, when a figure up on a hill spies them.
I had seen images of this quite some time ago, when Christensen and Mouritsen were still trying to finish it and was intrigued, but lost track of it. The finished product is, indeed, quite short, but is vague enough in its details to warrant repeated viewings. In the end, I’m still left wanting to know more; about the world, yes, but more specifically the relationships between these three doomed people, especially the adult and child whose symbiotic existence lends the piece its name. There is a stark decision made in that final act and it begs exposition, though wisely, or perhaps, blessedly, the filmmakers leave it unspoken.
