"Nacho Mountain" Review

For being a film without one single likable character, and about fifty genuinely despicable jerks, "Nacho Mountain" was pretty darn fun.

Keefer (Jay Larson), is fired from his job for gross miss-use of the Internet. When he gets home, he finds his girlfriend in bed with a manly transvestite. Now Keefer has nothing, no home, no job, no girl, just a few dozen awful friends and a talent for shoving mountains of food down his throat in greasy fistfuls. One of his terrible friends, Meegosh (Kevin Interdonato), convinces Keefer to complete in underground eating contests for quick cash, until the town mayor-an obese health food nut-busts up their illegal food competitions. To keep the mayor from forcing the whole town to go organic, Keefer has to beat him at the town's 8th Annual Nacho Mountain eating competition.

No one ever said the plot was genius, but it sure was fun. Writer/director Mitch Csanadi employs all the most lowbrow, gratuitous humor, taking every gag to a highly functional new low. Just when we thought the world had enough stupid humor, Csanadi shows us we're wrong with yet another hilarious, "why the hell am I watching this?" moment. Drugs, sloth, racism, sexism (lots of sexism), bodily functions (lots of bodily functions), mental and physical handicaps, God, sexual orientation, puppets, authority; this film is downright mean, but never mean-spirited. The characters use cruel humor as a form of entertainment, a brief and amusing distraction from how pointless their lives are, not that any character in that film is deep enough to be even remotely aware of it.

Some of the acting could have been better, particularly from the girls, who are much better seen and not heard, but Larson and Interdonato were actually quite talented. Speaking for the South Park fans out there, hopefully Csanadi has a few more ideas where "Nacho Mountain" came from because he truly has a gift for all things boneheaded.

"Booty Sex" Review

Every now and then somethingess and crass it actually transcends tasteless and crass and becomes funny. "Booty Sex" is one such creation. I did not want to laugh at this film, at the excessive potty humor, but I did. I couldn't help it. And once I started, I couldn't stop... I think I might have been humor raped. I'm going to go take a shower.

We at SHOCKFEST like to think that shocking comes in all shapes and sizes. Well, if you give it a layer of lame stubble, coat it in chocolate, and wrap it in a berka, you've got a particularly offensive kind of shocking that calls itself, "Booty Sex." This music video is disgusting. I spent half the run time screaming, "Why? Why?" at the screen. It's not hard to understand "Booty Sex." The film is pretty one dimensional. One might see the use of a berka in a film about anal sex as some type of veiled social commentary, no pun intended, but it's not. It can't be. If it were, I think I'd lose faith in all mankind.

I do have one piece of praise for this film. Few things are as bad as an indie film that tries to overreach itself. Model airplanes with strings, explosions that are superimposed over what's supposed to be exploding, gun shots that don't quite come out of the front of the gun, fighters who just can't fight convincingly. The list of offenses could be a blog post in itself. So I'll just come right out and say it. "Booty Sex" looks cheep. There, it's out. But in a film that bills itself as a comedic spoof on home sex tapes, it works. Director Arthur Diennet does what he came to do, make a music video featuring a smarmy dork rapping about his favorite kind of sex. It's cheesy and ridiculous. Mission accomplished. And as far as shot quality and lighting go, to be entirely honest I wouldn't even want to see "Booty Sex" in HD. No, I would not.

As for you, make sure to take your ass to SHOCKFEST Film Festival November 7 to check out "Booty Sex," at Cinespace in Hollywood. Don't forget a chastity belt. Go to www.shockfilmfest.com for the details. See you there!

"Spaceman On Earth" Review

At this rate, I may end up giving away the whole SHOCKFEST 2009 selection list before it's been posted. Not to worry, though. With only two days until the selections go live, there's only so much damage I can humanly accomplish. But before that happens, here's a little more mayhem: Congratulations, "Spaceman On Earth." You are an official selection for SHOCKFEST Film Festival of Hollywood!

This film I knew of by reputation long before I saw it. Film writer/producer/director, Shant Hamassian, has taken both "Spaceman On Earth" and his previous film, "The Slowww Zombie," to the prestigious Cannes Film Festival, and "Spaceman On Earth" was also a winner at Action On Film earlier this year. The film was pretty well hyped, so I expected it to be good. But as good press tends to snowball (people who wouldn't risk creating a trend are often happy as little clams to follow one), I also expected it to be at least a little bit over hyped.

I was wrong.

The fun mix of retro humor with a contemporary edge somehow kept a film built entirely on cliches super fresh. Hamassian skillfully created a world that was so easy to buy into that the illusion was never broken, not even when he'd suddenly change the rules with anachronistic bits of comedy and laughably archaic special effects.

But perhaps Hamassian is on to something. While recently at the movies, I made an unpleasant discovery. Every scene in the film looked like it was happening, I mean almost exactly like it was really occurring... and I just didn't buy it. It was too perfect. The movie magic flickered. It was worse than seeing strings tied to an airplane. There was something cheap about shots that were so expensive. I almost felt like, 'So, that's it? You imagine this stuff then you just go out and do it? Is that all? Where's the artistry, the struggle, the stretch? Where's the mystery, that moment that makes us hold our breath in anticipation wondering if you're going to pull it off? Where's the damn story telling? Why don't you just shove my head in your ear so I can see what you're thinking?' Filmmakers who can do anything will soon begin to find themselves facing audiences who are impressed by nothing.

Hamassian may have found the cure to the CG blues. He employs puppets, stop-motion animation, and miniatures, none of it convincing. But audiences don't want to be convinced. They want to be entertained. "Spaceman On Earth," far from hiding it's effects, embraces the campiness of its genre, the 1950's superhero spy comedy. (What? You've never heard of it?) The effects are even used as punchlines, changing the timing of movement and dialogue, keeping the film unexpected.

Just to be clear to many would-be filmmakers, I said many of the film's effects were archaic, not crappy. The director's background as an illustrator came through in his eye for detail. And not all the effects were archaic either, but all were appropriate and all well done. This is not a case of something being so bad it's good. So there.

Finally, I could talk about how the film gives an old fashioned slant to current issues like American over-involvement in world issues and immigration, making a social statement that's far more accessible and so perhaps more convincing than all the shouting pundits one could cram into a burlap sack, but that would be boring. Instead, I'll end with this:

Longer is seldom better where indie film is concerned. Plots can begin to lag, good ideas become either convoluted or redundant, and longer films mean more time for filmmakers to muck around and be self indulgent. With "Spaceman On Earth," however, I kind of wished it was a little longer. What? It made me laugh! I can't help what I feel.

“Liminal” Review: Nude Gets Nasty

SHOCKFEST Film Festival is coming up fast (11/7 at Cinespace in Hollywood), so though I'd planned on more general advice articles, I've decided instead to spend some time reviewing films for the upcoming fest. This first review is really a sneak preview of sorts. As of right now, the official selections list for SHOCKFEST 2009 has not been made public. So at the risk of letting the cat out of the bag, congratulations to "Liminal," an experimental, artistic short about two women locked in a vicious power struggle... in the nude.

In "Liminal," two women fight for control in their relationship, or is it a fight for control of a single person's consciousness? This sort of mind play common for the film's director, Stephen Keep Mills, who makes quality his calling card. Mills combines talented actors, vivid locations, enigmatic dialogue, and old-fashioned film to create pieces that truly embody the artistic identity of independent film. "Liminal" is no exception.

But all the trappings aside, the real question one has to ask about a film like "Liminal" is, the nudity... Does it work? Does it enhance the authenticity of the lead characters' argument (the two women are, after all, fighting over a sweater) or, as any decent filmmaker would have to ask him/herself when employing such an eye-catching device, does the nudity come across as pretentious? This is a common sin in indie film and can quickly alienate people.

The basic symbolism of employing naked characters is pretty obvious; they are stripped, literally, down to the raw emotion. They are vulnerable. Because of this alone, using nudity in films can be tempting. In "Liminal," the nudity also adds a sexual tension that heightens the sense of danger when the two women's confrontation starts getting violent. Finally, the two women seem more like a real intimate couple because they are naked together. The authenticity of their relationship is further strengthened by Mills's dialogue which, far from being on the nose as (another indie film sin) is often vague, giving the impression that the characters are building on the meanings that already exist in their relationship, adding to ongoing conversations.

This is a fine line to walk, however. There were points during the film that the illusion broke down. The intimacy of the nudity was at times actually undermined by what sometimes became stilted dialogue. When this happened, it seemed as though the actors were conscious of creating art rather than being in the moment. A few cuts, perhaps, could pick up the pace toward the middle of their argument and mitigate this.

Technically, the film was beautiful. Shot in 35mm, entirely in black and white, it was lovely to watch and highly entertaining. Unlike many big-budget indie films lately that play chameleon with big studio pics, I left "Liminal" feeling I'd seen something truly independent.

I won't, however, pretend I spent the whole film so thoroughly wrapped in the dialogue and plot that I forgot the two main characters were naked. We're all grown-ups, so we're told, and I think we'd all like to believe we could see beyond naked bodies to focus only on the deep meaning of the film. Alas (or perhaps, hurray), that is not the case. I spent more than a few minutes during this 14 minute short simply looking at the women, their shapes, sizes, movement, parts. It was novel, but afterword I wondered why it should be so. That, for me, was the greatest psychological aspect of "Liminal." The nudity was artistically handled, but it was still shocking. Small movements of the actors were amplified as nothing was left to the imagination. On one hand, am I still so juvenile, is our culture so prudish, that two women at home having a lovers' argument about wardrobe could boil down to, naked. On the other hand, realizing I wasn't completely desensitized was a good thing. "Liminal" shows us that we're not so analytical that we can't still be scandalized from time to time by something that does not set itself up merely for shock value. The difference here, I believe, was violation. "Liminal" does not seek to penetrate the audience; it merely invites them in for a look. In then end, perhaps nakedness, sex, and violence don't always have to be dirty.