In terms of production value, short films really run the gamut from goofy DIY productions slapped together with little forethought in someone’s backyard, to slickly produced professional pieces with Hollywood-level craftsmanship. With recording and editing equipment being more accessible and user friendly than ever, barriers to creating a film have never been lower, but the ability to create a good one remains as difficult and elusive as ever. Regardless of the tools and technology, the biggest factor in determining the quality of a film is how well it’s able to succeed on the most fundamental level of being “a good story, well told.”
With a total runtime of just nine minutes and the film itself being contained to just over six, Beyond the Moonlight doesn’t have a lot of runway to work with but from the beginning is able to establish a level of quality with rich atmosphere and beautifully executed shots. The story follows a young woman (Isabella Jaimie) furiously practicing ballet at night and performing for a strict task-masker (Alexandra Almendarez) who keeps demanding more from her. The film at this point gives strong Suspiria vibes and effectively builds tension with excellent camerawork, well-crafted lighting, and a particularly impressive shot that utilizes mirrors to great effect.
While I applaud the use of practical effects here the main misstep in the film is the fundamental tonal shift at the end that takes a tense and intriguing set-up and puts a button on it that’s downright hokey. The idea itself is solid and had the scene been taken a little more seriously, it could have ended on a much stronger note. That being said, I was still left wanting more as this whole film really just hints at the beginnings of a larger story and fortunately the short is already being adapted into a one- hour TV pilot. I’m truly intrigued to see how that goes because if writer/director Natalie Rodriguez is able to strike the right tonal balance we could have something really interesting here.
Availability: Unavailable
Currently there is no release date for the film but more info can be found on the official website here
Art’s inherent subjectivity is never more apparent than in abstract films. Without a traditional narrative structure and so much of the imagery left up to interpretation, the goal isn’t so much about determining whether something was “good” or “entertaining” so much as it is understanding the artist’s motivation and goals and whether or not they were able to achieve them. Spearheaded by underground artist Daniel Valient, White Gardenia’s John Calvin is in many ways a significant departure from the style and content of their previous works in part because it shifts focus from nudity and self mutilation to biblical stories and also because it represents a collaborative effort with multiple other filmmakers.
Unlike traditional anthologies, the various parts aren’t clearly segmented by filmmaker and instead flow into each other with brief text on screen sometimes indicating the switch to a different segment. The presentation is a real variety of mixed media from static collage imagery accompanied by discordant and distorted soundscapes to live action scenes and old silent film footage reworked and reedited into Found Art style segments. This does make for a bit of an uneven tone as the highly produced black and white scene from Marian Dora (Melancholie der Engel) presents a much more professional tone than some of the less successful live action segments whose costumes and camerawork have a much more DIY aesthetic to them.
This collection is on a whole a very interesting and unconventional piece of artistic expression but is at its least successful when it leans into an over-reliance of on-screen text or direct voice-over to communicate the ideas presented in it. There are a lot of interesting concepts and ideas here dealing with religion, transhumanism, death, and resurrection but I would challenge Valient and the other artists to rely on their talents and abilities to process these concepts through a creative filter and express them more abstractly than simply telling it to the audience. I also found the choice to include footage that was clearly filmed handheld from another screen to be curious rather than just incorporating it into the footage itself.
The times when this film is at its most successful are when it’s able to lean into the surreal and bizarre aspects and run wild with them. The make-up effects on the lepers were truly inspired and genuinely haunting but the most interesting part of this experience is without a doubt the use of the bizarre collage imagery. The use of this creative technique, incorporating some moving images into a mostly static scene, coupled with distorted audio made for a unique and intriguing experience. I also like how the old footage was recontextualized into something strange and new and there were points that were reminiscent of early Lynch shorts and the kind of dark anatomical visuals Marilyn Manson used during his most provocative period. The time-lapse decomposition also brought to mind Peter Greenaway’s deeply unsettling masterpiece A Zed and Two Naughts.
Ultimately, a bit of a mixed bag as collaborations typically are, there are moments of experimental brilliance here and a more streamlined version that pairs down the overuse of text throughout would probably be more successful. While the effectiveness of the overarching message in the film will undoubtedly depend on your personal connection to the tenets of Christianity and interest in transhumanism, I always appreciate art that takes big swings and isn’t afraid to use highly unconventional and experimental ways of expressing ideas.
La Cabra attempts to recreate the experience of watching a ‘70’s Satanic Panic cult film with its story of a little girl (Coral Degraves) who has strange encounters while wandering alone in the woods. Given the fact that the title literally translates to “The Goat” you can bet that both Satanism and the aforementioned hoofed creatures feature prominently in this film. I can see what writer/director Toruga was going for here, trying to build tension and dread through an ominous soundscape and scenes of an innocent child punctuated by sinister imagery, but the end result just doesn’t translate to a successful horror film.
Degraves does a perfectly fine job for someone of her age attempting the difficult task of carrying almost the entirety of the runtime on her back alone and the issue isn’t with her as much as it is with the pacing and direction. Even at under 15 minutes, the lack of meaningful onscreen interaction causes this to drag and it could have been a more engaging slow-burn at half the length (starting a short with a full credits roll out doesn’t help either). Shooting horror in broad daylight on a shoestring budget is no easy feat but even with those limitations in place this could still have made a larger impact with more creative camera use, minimizing the screen time of costumed characters, and excising cliched imagery of things like Ouija boards entirely. The sound design is the most effective part of the experience but it’s not enough to make up for the rest of the shortcomings.
Availability: Widely Available
The full film is available on Toruga’s YouTube channel.
The Coffee Table is in a word…..grim. Even revealing the central concept can take a little of the sting off the gut-punch of the inciting incident so if you prefer to be blindsided by a film that starts with an extremely upsetting concept and spends the rest of the runtime ratcheting up the tension and turning the emotional screws then you might want to go into this one totally unaware. Otherwise read on because I won’t be going into any further spoiler territory than that and there’s a lot to say about this strange, bold piece of cinema.
The film opens with recent parents Jesus (David Pareja) and Maria (Estefanía de los Santos) purchasing a garish coffee table from an unscrupulous salesman (Eduardo Antuña) who guarantees it will bring them happiness. The couple’s already troubled relationship is further strained by Jesus’ absolute insistence on purchasing it which Maria begrudgingly acquiesces to. After setting up the new table at home Jesus is left alone with the baby while Maria goes to the store and their lives are forever changed when an off-screen accident involving the new table ends up…..decapitating the infant child. The rest of the runtime is devoted Jesus’ emotional hell as he tries to conceal the fact from Maria for as long as he can that the worst possible thing has happened while she was gone.
Perhaps the most jarring thing about this film (newborn beheadings aside) is the fact that it feels a bit confused tonally. The quirky opening credit sequence and even throwing the titular line at the end seem to frame this as though it were a fun, gruesome horror film and not the devastating domestic tragedy that it actually is. Strangest of all, the IMDB entry as well as the screener I received pitch this as a “horror/dark comedy” but some inconsequential moments of levity aside, this is a punishingly bleak, tense film that is about as much of a comedy as Come and See. The film has garnered a fair amount of buzz already for being a highly disturbing and upsetting watch and even describes itself as “cruel” on the poster which is fitting as director/co-writer Caye Casas seems to delight in twisting the emotional knife at every opportunity.
Those looking for a film to shock and disturb them in the way that they are accustomed to from Extreme Cinema may be disappointed. While there is some violence in the movie, what makes it a difficult watch isn’t the blood but the fact that it’s just relentlessly sad. Much like the scene of horrific domestic violence in I Stand Alone, this film forces the audience to sit and stew in the aftermath of tragedy, feeling the pressing weight of empathetic grief. This weight is further compounded as scene after scene reinforces how essential and meaningful this baby was to the couple, especially Maria, who continues on blissfully unaware that the unthinkable has already occurred as Jesus slowly unravels, knowing the charade can’t last forever.
None of this is to say that this is a bad or unsuccessful film. On the contrary, it is incredibly well made and superbly acted. The film succeeds at being genuinely tense and disturbing and is an interesting and unnervingly realistic character study on how people react when the most unimaginable horror becomes your inescapable reality. Less a horror film than a really upsetting drama about a horrible situation, The Coffee Table is nonetheless a bold and interesting film that I commend for its audacity, originality, and willingness to engage in an antagonistic, if not outright combative, relationship with the viewer. A worthwhile experience for those bold enough but new parents looking for a fun escape from their exhausting reality might want to give this one a pass.
Availability: Upcoming Release
For some reason this film is listed as being from 2022 in some places but it just started limited theatrical release on 04/19/24 and is coming to VOD and DVD on 05/14/24.
In Ride, Baby, Ride writer/director Sofie Somoroff utilizes the underrepresented sub-genre of sentient vehicles to deliver a stylish horror short where a female mechanic (Celina Bernstein) must do battle with a monstrous Camaro. The film is incredibly well shot and while its subject matter draws some thematic comparisons to Christine, the surreal style and dark absurdity of the content is more akin to Titane. While the concept might sound silly to some, the execution is not and the underlying feminist message comes through clearly. Somoroff does an excellent job using concise imagery to communicate the feeling of menace and violation the mechanic feels when she is simply trying to purchase the car from a couple of creepy guys in the opening scene. With top-notch production values and a core message that is as relevant now as ever Ride Baby Ride packs a lot under the hood in a fun trip that goes fast and leaves you wanting more.
Availability: Widely Available
The full film can be watched on the Alter channel on YouTube here.
With Fckin Nuts, writer/director Sam Fox channels the anxiety of introducing your partner to your parents into a short that is as quirky as it is grotesque. The film opens with Sandy (Maddie Nichols) on the phone tearfully trying to reach her boyfriend Dan (Vincent Stalba, The Blood of the Dinosaurs) who, much to her dismay shows, up at her front door. After professing his love for her, he insists on meeting her parents which she is adamantly opposed to and repeatedly states that they are nuts. However it isn’t long before he finally convinces her to let him in and that’s when things really get, well, fuckin’ nuts.
I really can’t reveal more than that, but suffice to say Fox does a great job establishing an ominous tone from the start that pays off in unexpectedly bizarre, horrifying, and just plain weird ways. The surreal style gives off Lynchian vibes with its slightly off-kilter suburban America setting which gets infused with body horror reminiscent of Todd Haynes’ controversial early 90s classic, Poison.
From top to bottom, every aspect of this odd little film feels highly polished and well realized, from the lighting, to the FX, right down to the meticulously detailed set dressing. Fox gives an excellent sense of movement with her stellar camera work that keeps the film from ever feeling stagnant in the single location and the acting from both leads brings the heightened reality of the world to life without overdoing it. There isn’t much more to say, especially as Fckin Nuts is something that really needs to be experienced rather than described.
Availability: Unavailable
The film is currently making the rounds at festivals and does not have an official release date. Check out samfoxyfilms.com for more info.
“One of the most disturbing documentaries ever made” a quote attributed to no one confidently proclaims at the top of the cover art. It’s a bold move to state this about your own film rather than waiting for others to bestow it upon you, but when the subject of your documentary is White Gardenia, a performance art collective that is literally on the cutting edge of underground Extreme Cinema you may have good cause to. So, does The Art of Self Harm live up to this proclamation or is it a hyperbolic marketing tactic? We’ll get more into this in a minute.
White Gardenia has been growing in prominence within the underground community thanks to limited edition compilations of their work like Blood Tastes Like Perfume and How to Raise Women from the Dead entering the marketplace along with segments in other collections such as XXX: Dark Web and Vore Gore. Defining exactly who is and isn’t officially part of the group can be a little murky as multiple people will pop in and out of videos, but the mainstays are Cherokee Nevin, Allison Belmont, and of course the ringleader himself, Daniel Valient. Much like the members themselves, the work of White Gardenia isn’t easily defined by strict labels or categorization but can most broadly be described as surreal short films that utilize music and unsimulated self-mutilation to create a unique and provocative experience for the viewer.
With The Art of Self Harm filmmaker Jonathan Doe (a prominent underground artist in his own right known for such films as The Degenerates, Barf Bunny, and Defilement of a Porcelain Doll) gains unprecedented access to the group, interviewing the key members and digging into WG’s backstory as well as some of their more notorious scenes. He even goes a step further and becomes part of the story himself when he films a new scene for them where Cherokee nails Daniel’s scrotum to a table in service of making a shall we say, “unconventional” candelabra.
The doc itself doesn’t really have a thesis statement nor does it delve too extensively into how this particular kind of outsider art fits into the larger cultural context but not every documentarian needs to be Ken Burns or Errol Morris. What it does offer is an intimate look at the people behind this provocative art and give context and additional information that even a long-time fan such as myself was unaware of. Whether its finding out the dark origin of the White Gardenia name, how the group shifted their focus from music creation to extreme performance art or just to see the “death pit” where Allison meditates amongst the corpses of various animals, this provides a lot of interesting info that fans are sure to appreciate. Daniel chooses to obscure his face in the interviews (even though it is on full display in the numerous clips that are intercut throughout) but is revealing in other ways as he further expands on his personal philosophy and motivation that he had only previously touched on in various clips in the past.
It’s not just the conversation that may be earning this film its distinction as a particularly disturbing documentary, as there are also numerous clips that those not desensitized by years of viewing Extreme Cinema may find hard to endure. Aside from the aforementioned candelabra piece, Doe also includes clips of classic White Gardenia segments including the notorious Midnite Snack from XXX: Dark Web where Daniel severs his own finger before he and Allison cook and taste it. It also includes the Yummy Fur segment from Vore Gore and Doe interviews Cherokee about what it was like to cut off a piece of her own labia and devour it.
There’s a lot of very interesting content within The Art of Self Harm for WG fans to…chew on if you will, but one more noteworthy parts that I found particularly intriguing was the behind-the-scenes controversy that XXX: Dark Web caused which even went so far as to involve the police. Yes, just like Ruggero Deodato was for Cannibal Holocaust and Hideshi Hino for Guinea Pig 2: Flower of Flesh and Blood, the members of White Gardenia were reported to the authorities for their involvement in the collection and had to prove that no one was in fact killed in any of the clips. I actually commend how reasonable the Montana police department was in their handling of this situation but the thought of three officers having to sit in a room and closely watch the entirety of XXX: Dark Web really puts a twisted smile on my face.
So, does The Art of Self Harm earn its self-appointed distinction? It really depends on your particular threshold for certain kinds of content and with films like Africa Addio, Orozco the Embalmer, Earthlings, Night and Fog, etc there are quite a few pushing the envelope in that category. That being said, I feel you would be hard-pressed to find someone who could reasonably disagree with the fact that a film with this much uncensored physical mutilation is indeed one of the most disturbing documentaries ever made.
Availability: Upcoming Release
Film will be officially for sale through Putrid Productions on November 18th, 2023 but is currently available for pre-order.
For many horror fans (especially those of us of a certain age) the Crypt Keeper holds a special place in our black little hearts. There have been many different types of horror anthology hosts ranging from the dignified and austere to the goofy and ridiculous. While the Crypt Keeper was certainly more the latter, there was something about that shriveled little monstrosity spouting out unbelievably cringey puns that just made him so goddamn endearing. The Keeper may not have been the first horror host, but he remains one of the more memorable ones and ever since, numerous horror anthologies have tried to put in their own host that can bring a similar level of macabre campy energy to the experience….with varying success. Enter Vampus, the titular host of Vampus Horror Tales, an old man in a black cloak whose odd, off kilter persona isn’t likely to be igniting any long-running horror franchises in the foreseeable future.
Going down well-trodden territory of not just Tales From the Crypt but also Creepshow, Trick ‘r Treat, etc each segment Vampus introduces comes from the pages of a comic book. Although the film seems to frame our intrepid host as winsomely grim he comes across more as unhinged and homicidal between stories, as we see him bludgeon a woman to death with a hammer, and give a young couple hot dogs before chainsawing off their heads. At one point he beats a man to death with a shovel before turning to the camera and saying “I guess it was curiosity that killed the cat.” Oh, that wacky Vampus. I’m all for the violence (if anything there should have been more of it onscreen than off) but the film isn’t really able to strike the right balance in tone as it fails at attempts to flesh Vampus out as the morbidly charming character it clearly wants him to be.
The real meat and potatoes of any anthology isn’t the framing device, it’s the stories themselves and these horror tales tell a variety of stories such as a well-dressed couple trapped in a room, a birthday party in a haunted theme park, a blind woman stuck in a house with a dangerous man and a post-apocalyptic viral outbreak. The acting was solid across the board and the film is well shot, but the stories vary wildly scene to scene from the intriguing to the mundane to the borderline incoherent at times. This isn’t helped by the fact that this Spanish language film contains white subtitles that aren’t bordered and have a habit of repeatedly disappearing into any bright sections of the scene. There’s nothing inherently terrible here but there isn’t anything inherently great either and if you’re in the market for a Spanish horror anthology with some real bite to it you’d be better served sinking your teeth into Mexico Barbaro instead.
Availability: Widely Available
Available on multiple streaming platforms to rent or buy as of streaming debut in February 2023.
Film is primarily a visual language and if you want to convey something to the audience in under three minutes then your visuals need to be on point and memorable. Such is the case with White Willow which deftly communicates a gruesome little story about self mutilation that won’t soon leave your mind. The film’s sole performer (Emily Lamberski) turns in a solid, compelling performance which is further enhanced by the excellent SFX work by makeup artist Jess Marie. Writer/director Ryan Swantek’s quick cuts and eerie ambiance create a jarring, unsettling experience while establishing a character who I would be happy to see more of in a feature or another short. A fun, nasty little piece that’s sure to get under your skin.
Ambiguity in film is a difficult needle to thread, holding back just enough information to give the audience something to chew on afterwards without omitting key details required for supporting the action onscreen. In under fifteen minutes, Kiddo establishes a very intriguing world brought to life by excellent acting, a great visual style, and some nice moments of brutality. The sense of dread is palpable right from the beginning as we join middle-aged woman Kiddo (Lisa Howard) on a bus full of teens, all of them clad in matching pink jumpsuits. As the bus winds lazily through the bucolic countryside, it’s very clear that all is not right here and it might have something to do with the couple of rough-looking guys on the bus who aren’t dressed like the others.
I can’t go into more detail than that without getting into spoilers but suffice to say Kiddo has a very solid concept and executes it perfectly from a technical aspect. The only points where it falters slightly are a few moments of illogical character choices and some aspects of the world-building that don’t quite connect the dots. It’s still an incredibly accomplished piece of filmmaking and something that I would very much like to see expanded into a feature. This would provide more time to delve into the larger story and answer some of the burning questions about what is really going on to firmly solidify the reality of the world it created.
Horror and Alternative Cinema Reviews 