Catfish

Perhaps the most frustrating thing about Catfish is that its filmmakers – Henry Joost, Areil Schulman, and Yaniv Schulman – were naïve enough to think that its viewers couldn't see what was coming, or that they actually thought anyone think they were genuine, interesting people. Ever since AOL chatrooms and IM, people have been fabricating lives on the interweb. Now with the ease of social networking via Facebook, it's all the easier. Fear not: I have not given anything away about the film's super-secret reveal, nor have I spoiled the experience for you because, really, anyone having grown up in the age of chatrooms and IM knows that people lie on the internet. So, the first 30 minutes of the film works as a kind of suspense film: our protagonists lead us on a journey motivated by nothing more than mischief and curiosity. Here, the filmmakers show an uncanny ability to keep the viewer interested despite knowing what most likely lies ahead for Yaniv as he seeks to find out about a girl named Megan with whom he's been having a "Facebook relationship" with. Megan is the older sister of Abby, a child prodigy of sorts, saw one of Yaniv's photos in a New York magazine and painted it; this intrigued Yaniv to the point where he received a package from Michigan where Abby and Megan are from. Yaniv corresponds with other family members, but when a late night Gmail chat involves a song being sent where Megan claims ownership…things get a little messy and the boys want to confront Megan about it.

Here's the deal: taken at face value the film works as it keenly observes the folly of entering into such a relationship. However, and this is a big however, the film fails when we finally see what this whole thing is about (and no, I don't care if it's real or not…my inkling, though, is that it is real and that Casey Affleck and Joaquin Phoenix soured everyone on docs that appear to be fake…and then end up being fake). The only way to do this is to talk about the film's final 30 minutes. So stop reading if you haven't seen the movie, and I'll continue after the jump…

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Catching up with 2010: Capsule Review - Best Worst Movie

Best Worst Movie is great if you’re a fan of Troll 2, but otherwise it’s a bit of a boring documentary that seems to be discovering the same thing over and over: the film has a cult following, and the actors are varying degrees of embarrassed about the film. The film is really about George Hardy; he’s a dentist who does good work for his Alabama community, but when he catches wind that Troll 2 is a popular roadshow film he decides to jump on the circuit and be a part of the mania. The most interesting thing about this overlong documentary is that Hardy sees the difference between cult fans in small venues and the type of horror fans that flock to large conventions. In the most telling scene from the film he converses with fellow “one-and-done” horror actors as an entire row of tables consists of people who appeared – briefly – in one of the Nightmare films. When Hardy sees this, and the subsequent rejection of his “stardom” (he’s basically reduced to pimping his own bad movie and merchandise), he promptly turns on the people that seem to adore him the most. The most salient point Best Worst Movie makes is, I suppose, that there are two types of horror fans, and the die-hards (read: the one’s willing to spend LOTS of money) see horror in its most non-ironic form, and this just doesn’t work for what Hardy is trying to do with the Troll 2 roadshow. There’s a reason why the people involved in the Upright Citizens Brigade are willing to pay George Hardy money for an appearance at their club, and why the dudes dressed up as Freddy and Jason at the major horror convention haven’t even heard of Troll 2. The reason for this is the most interesting part of the movie. If the documentary would have been a short – a film about the phenomenon of Troll 2 and bad movies in general – then it would have been an easy recommend. But as it is, Best Worst Movie is a mild recommendation for fans only. There’s just too much wasted time in the middle of the film, and I really disliked the tone of certain scenes where it felt the filmmakers (the person who directed the documentary was the child star of Troll 2) were just trying to embarrass the director (Claudio Fragasso) by showing how inept he was in not seeing the irony in the film. Now either that was a point of the film, or I was completely fooled by Fragasso who maybe understands the irony of the film’s appeal and just plays the straight man; however, I feel what many feel is what makes Troll 2 the best worst movie: it’s genuine. Therefore, I don’t think Fragasso is being ironic at all here, and that makes the scenes focusing on him even more painful to watch because here’s an entire room of people ripping on a man’s work in front of him, and he just doesn’t get it. I never thought I would feel sympathetic towards such a hack filmmaker, but damn if I didn’t feel that Fragasso was somewhat of a tragic figure by film’s end. I don’t think that was the filmmaker’s intent, though, and that confusion in tone is why I can’t fully recommend Best Worst Movie.

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Summer of Slash: Going to Pieces: The Rise and Fall of the Slasher Film

Here's an interesting and entertaining documentary that is ultimately unsatisfying because it omits important slashers like Black Christmas or the imports from Italy. However, the film does includes great interviews with other important slasher figures besides Craven and Carpenter and Savini, which makes it a tad more interesting than I was anticipating. You get to hear from the people who created The Prowler and The Slumber Party Massacre and My Bloody Valentine and Graduation Day, and many others. And that is what makes it an engaging documentary: we actually get to hear from the people who cashed in on the success of the Craven's and Sean Cunningham's (who is a hack that got lucky…and he kind of admits that in the film). One of the things that is annoying about the documentary, though, is that the interviews are rarely stationary as the interviewees walk around talking about the genre and the camera is constantly moving with them (even if they do stop for a second). I don't need to be "entertained" during an interview…what the people are saying is interesting enough, but the makers of this documentary failed to understand that.

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DVD Review: Not Quite Hollywood

As an unabashed fan of exploitation cinema I have to say I feel pretty ashamed to admit that I had no idea there was an Australian subgenre out there that is like my favorite subgenre Italian horror. The documentary Not Quite Hollywood paints an interesting portrait of "ozploitation", and for fans of this particularly polarizing subgenre this documentary is a treat: a plethora of rental ideas of forgotten (or maybe never discovered) grindhouse cinema from down under. Quentin Tarantino is interviewed the most throughout the doc and his (usual) unbridled enthusiasm is infectious as he talks about how certain film like Patrick crossed over into pop culture (the Italians ripped it off, of course, and made one of their unofficial sequels to the film) and also influenced his films like Kill Bill. Various filmmakers from the Australian New Wave movement are interviewed (most prominently is Brian Trenchard-Smith of The Man from Hong Kong and Dead-End Drive-In "fame") and discuss the ways they made films that people wanted to see, influenced their respective genres with new, innovative ways to film the scenes, and began to affect a whole Australian subculture and industry where the only kinds of films being made were art films like Picnic at Hanging Rock. I found the history of Australian filmmaking to be fascinating, not to mention the various clips from from films that look surprisingly good (and innovative) for the budgets they had. Of course this should surprise no one if you're a fan of exploitation cinema as these types of films were sometimes the breeding ground for young filmmakers with ideas. 

One of the best moments of the doc comes when Quentin Tarantino is describing a scene from one of the films discussed when he says something to the extent of: (paraphrased) "the best thing about exploitation cinema is that initial reaction as your watching something and you're thinking, 'is this really happening…wait…it is…oh my God! How did they do that? What were they thinking? Why would the actors agree to that?' That uncertainty is what makes exploitation cinema so great." Because it's a pretty good bet that the clips from the movies profiled in this doc are the best parts of those movies (for as "fun" as these types of movies are...they're really boring if you aren't watching them with friends) this is a must see doc for fans of exploitation cinema. 

A question for exploitation fans after the jump...

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Revisiting 1999: The Top 10 Films of the Year, #8 --- American Movie (Chris Smith)

Here's what we've covered so far:

The Top 10 Films of 1999:

Introduction: The Best Films of 1999
10 - The Limey (Steven Soderbergh)
9 - Affliction (Paul Schrader)


American Movie, the brilliant 1999 documentary, contains a personality that is just as infectious and enthusiastic when talking about film as someone like Scorsese or Tarantino. That person is Mark Borchardt, a Wisconsin native who dreams of making the All-American film someday. However, his struggles to break free from the cycle that slows him down (alcohol, friends, partying) show a person who dreams big, but has always been ankle deep in the mire of small town America. This is a talented individual, you can tell that by listening to him, he’s passionate, too; however, his passion is never enough to break free from the suffocating home life he encounters on a daily basis. He tries to channel that into his filmmaking, but he often fails. What we get in Chris Smith’s documentary is a story about a very specific type of person in a very specific type of town. It’s often a very funny movie (Borchardt is a very entertaining personality), and other times it’s sad and poignant – a movie filled with a lot of truth about how talent gets swallowed up by the deadly combination of alcohol and living in a small town. It’s one of the best films I’ve ever seen about the passion one person has to get something done and to get away from the place that bums them out.

I would love to visit this town and meet Mark and talk about horror film with him. His story is an underdog one: the struggle to make the movie you feel you were born to make. Mark isn’t an idiot, though; he knows what it takes (money, location, direction, discipline) to make a movie. This definitely isn’t someone who just woke up one day and thought it would be cool to make a movie…this is a living, a job for Borchardt, and he takes it very seriously. He always is talking about how he can’t be sitting around with a beer in one hand and his dreams in the other, he has to act – he needs to do something about his dream. For him it’s survival so he can get away from the town that drags him down.


This guy knows what he’s talking about when it comes to movies, and not just about horror movies. There is a great scene where he is scouting locations and he talks to the filmmakers about some of the great cinematic backgrounds found in Manhattan and The Seventh Seal where characters are sitting around talking, but they have these fantastic images behind them telling the story, too.

Borchardt’s also a great pitch man. I have a feeling that if this guy ever got a budget, just any kind of budget, to make a small indie horror flick, his enthusiasm could sell it to people and make the film a hit. When he talks the crew or potential investors in his film (usually his parents or his Uncle Bill) they listen intently because he speaks with such authority and passion.

This is evident in one scene where he is having a script reading for one of his films. We see amateur actors painfully getting through a screen test. Then the filmmakers cut outside to Mike and his longtime buddy Mark (who is a highlight of the film, no doubt) and is disgusted by what’s going on inside: “They’re making a mockery out of my words, man. It’s a theatrical mockery…” Again, this is a man who is deadly serious about the work he does.

The movie Borchardt is trying to make is called Northwestern, his masterpiece. The story of a 20-something loser in the Midwest whop tries to battle his demons (alcoholism) and break out of his nothing town. However, he just can’t seem to get any momentum with the film (money is running out and he’s been working on the thing for six years), so he goes to his bread and butter to get him some money and rejuvenate his creative juices: a horror film entitled Coven. Mark has been making horror films ever since he got his first Super 8 when he was a kid. Friends tell stories about the films they made entitled The More the Scarier (there were three sequels, too) and how much fun they had even though the camera’s focus was messed up they could see from the onset that Mark was a passionate filmmaker.

Some of the conversations surrounding Coven are hilarious, especially between Mark and one his actors who is one of those small town thespians who takes his “craft” way too seriously. They discuss the title and how it should be pronounced. Mark wants to call it Coven with a long o, and his acting buddy says that’s not the correct way of pronouncing it and it should be called Coven (like “lovin’”) and Mark says “no way, man. That sounds too much like oven, man.”

It’s great watching him direct a scene where he’s trying to put one of the actors’ head through a cupboard that hasn’t been scored correctly. So upon the first few takes his head bounces off the cupboard. “Oh, I’m sorry I tried to put your head through that, man.”. He’s so passionate about what he does…there’s a great scene where he explains ADR to his daughter, and he’s not condescending in the least bit…he speaks to her like a tutor would trying to educate a pupil who is confused by something. This guy lives every moment of the day thinking about film and the movies he’s trying to make.

Mark spends a lot of time philosophizing to the cameras, but the reality of the situation is that he’s like a lot of these small town personalities who want to break free from the mundane areas that drag them down. They can talk articulately about getting out, and they can dream and speak poetically about the American Dream, but they will never break the cycle. There is a bit of sadness and poignancy to Mark’s story – especially when he relays a story about he got a job working for a cemetery and the owner looked at him and said “I hope this is the beginning of a long relationship”, and you see in Mark’s eyes and the way he says “no way, man” that he has no intentions of dying in Milwaukee vacuuming floors at a cemetery – and that’s what makes American Movie such a special documentary. The quiet moments where the viewer is allowed to get into the mind of Mark and see that he’s not unique, there are many people like this who feel suffocated by the dead-end towns they live in.

Obviously Mark and Bill are made for each other; both looked upon as the outcasts of their family, so it’s natural that they bond. There’s a great moment where Mark is hanging out with Bill on Thanksgiving. His mom is out with his brother having a “very sterile meal, talking about very sterile subjects” according to Mark, and his father is up north away from his immediate family. This tells you a lot about Mark’s home life, and why he probably became so enamored with the movies – it was necessary for his to escape. There’s a great moment where Mark is monitoring Bill’s bath on Thanksgiving night and notices a “wicked ass toe nail” that could be “a science photo”. The interaction between the two in these scenes shows just why Bill is willing to finance Mark’s films. They trust each other because Mark is genuine in how he cares for Bill, and Bill is the only one in the family who doesn’t see Mark as a loser.

Of course Bill’s respect for Mark isn’t always clear as one can see in the now famous scene where Mark tries to get Bill to say the line “It’s alright. It’s okay. There’s something to live for. Jesus told me so!” After 30 takes, though, Bill doesn’t get the line right and claims that the whole exercise is “for the birds”. The scene conveys Mark’s passion for getting things right, but it’s also hilarious in that he is trying to get people like Bill to recite lines from a horror film.

The film ends on a telling moment, perhaps a moment where Mark’s naïveté is clearer than ever before. He and Bill are sitting outside of his trailer and Mark asks what his American Dream is. Bill scoffs it off as if he has no dream, Mark replies with “we’ll film you sitting outside of a trailer, man, but we live where you’re sitting outside of a trailer.” Bill then goes off on an emotional soliloquy about the loss of time and the futility of Mark’s endeavors. Once he’s finished all Bill can do is laugh and shake his head like the kid just doesn’t get that, possibly, his future is right in front of him in the form of Bill. The final punctuation mark to the film is some text stating that Bill died months later and that he has left Mark $50,000 for the completion of Northwestern.

Then director Chris Smith does something interesting by showing old black and white footage of Mark working odd jobs and lots of drinking with his pals from high school; perhaps indicating that nothing has changed. Those final images show that Mark may not know what to do with the money Bill has left him, because he lives a cyclical life of hanging out, getting high, boozing it up, and philosophizing big rather than living big. Maybe Mark will break the cycle (he has acted in numerous B-movies since this documentary, but he still hasn’t completed Northwestern), but all of the obvious signs around him point towards a different outcome.

Like any good documentary American Movie lets you into a world that you never would have been aware of prior to watching the film. It’s about specific people from a specific town that is rarely seen in mainstream film, and that’s why they documentary is such a powerful art form – it shows the audience a slice of America that they are infrequently privy to. Smith’s documentary makes me want to hop on a plane and find Mark so that I can sit down with him, have a few beers and talk movies. Not every movie elicits that kind of response from its viewers. This is a special movie.

Extra Stills:

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DVD Review: Dear Zachary: A Letter to His Son About His Father

Netflix didn't send my copy of Beyond the Mat on time (it was supposed to come Saturday), so with the USPS not moving today because of the holiday, I figured I'd dust off some notes I jotted down for a movie I watched a while ago.

Kurt Kuenne's documentary Dear Zachary is love letter. Really that's no surprise as the film opens with Kurt narrating talking about how the subject of the film, his murdered friend Andrew, was the star of his home movies while they were growing up together. The film has the warmth and anger one must feel when a close one dies. At times I felt a little odd being let into this world of Andrew, a doctor who, thanks to countless testimonies, we come to find was a great person. There is a mystery surrounding his murder, although the solution is pretty easy, and they even have the killer in custody. But she's allowed to walk free, and this sets off an unbelievable chain of events that are just shattering.

Kuenne uses a lot of tricks to drum up the suspense of his documentary; some of them work, some don't and draw uncomfortable attention to the fact that he his making a film, not a documentary, but overall the effect works because we care about Andrew's death and what will happen to his killer. The documentary is paced like a fictional thriller, bits of evidence are given to the audience throughout the film as the truth is meted out in a way where you find yourself on the edge of your seat incapable of waiting to see what happened next.

The documentary is about Dr. Andrew Bagby son of Kate and David, two people we come to know well as the documentary progresses. Andrew was murdered in the park near his home. A senseless act that has a shocking reason behind it. It's a documentary that, even though you can google the name and find out about the case, I wish not to give any information away. I didn't know much about the film aside from the fact that it was a well regarded doc from last year, so when the story started to unravel, and the truth came out, and crazy thing after crazy thing started happenng...I was in awe.

Andrew Bagby (left) with friend, and the maker of Dear Zachary, Kurt Kuenne

It's evident people loved Andrew as the viewer is privy to all kinds of intimate interviews with family and friends. Andrew's parents obviously fostered a loving household where everyone was invited to partake in their family community as everyone interviewed in the film calls them "mom and dad". Kuenne, obviously close to the subject, interviews the friends and family uncensored; which is rare for a documentary to be so unfiltered, even the medium of documentaries usually has a set way of interviewing people in order to get certain information on to the screen. Sometimes Kuenne lets his camera sit for long periods of time on his interview subjects where deeply rooted anger comes boiling up as the calmness and normalcy of the interview is over, and then after some silence there will be profanity and hatred, a type of venting, that seems too real; I felt weird being in that interview session with them since I, obviously, didn't know Andrew. But man is it powerful stuff. This is especially true in the case of a specific interview session with Andrew's father, David Bagby, who after a lull in the interview goes off on a hate-filled diatribe explaining how he's kill the person who killed his son; and when you find you killed their son, and their connection to everything, it becomes so much more powerful.

I can understand what Kuenne was doing, though. We've all known someone like Andrew, and maybe their still alive and we need to cherish the time we have with those we love; or perhaps we knew someone like Andrew before, like him, their life was take too soon, and this film acts as a catalyst for remembrance. Whatever the case may be, the film is a tremendously powerful, if not manipulative (but what documentary isn't?), experience that lets you in how the death of a well liked person shattered these peoples lives, and reverberated into the future with horrifying consequences as the truth becomes clearer and clearer.

There's a revelation about midway through the documentary that comes as a surprise to us, and as Kuenne who is narrating admits it was a shock to him, that puts these nice people through more hell. However, when you come out of it and the credits roll, you know the wounds will never heal, but you're convinced that these people know what love and community feels like.

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