Jo Satana’s “All We Have Left Are The Scars” Fantasia 2017 Coverage

Anyone who has ever taken it upon themselves to brave Montreal`s Fantasia film festival leaves with some scars. These scars can be subconscious, from the reptilian awakening that comes with sitting in a dark room occupied by porous, spongy, filmy humanoids. These scars can also be cerebral ones, the result of being subjected to a mind-numbing onslaught of light and sound. They can be existential as well, left from a shattered mind, fractured by having to chose between two films screening at the same time, like a parent having to chose between two drowning children. Or maybe the scars are literal ones, from sores left open by slow, methodical shifting on theatre seat cushions.

In the fifteen years and counting since I`ve been covering this festival, my scars have included any combination of the above. This year however, I found a new source of injury. While I had the intention of exposing myself to every bit of trauma that Fantasia 2017 was going to throw at me, external forces pulled me away. An urgent matter involving family meant that I was faced with the reality of having to miss Fantasia 2017 entirely (keeping in my that I once fell through a roof, was hospitalized, and had the learn to walk again, but still supported the fest!). My attendance this year however, was starting to look like a longshot.

Nevertheless, with some stubbornness, and of course with the help of screeners obtained from a very understanding staff (and family!), I present you (finally) with part 1 of my take on Fantasia 2017. Late? Maybe, but at least I made it. Here are some notables:

Tilt (USA, 2017, Dir: Kasra Farahani)

Trying times are traditionally a fertile ground for creative types and I believe that 2016-2017 will go down as the “primordial ooze period” from which many notable North American genre pieces will eventually crawl out of. Considering that Tilt was written and shot in 2016, it may actually be the first of its kind to breach the surface and flop onto shore in this new era. Welcome little guy!

As I said above, Tilt was written and filmed in and around 2016; apparently, this was an interesting time for America. Joe is a documentary filmmaker and an intellectual type. He is educated, contemplative, and after having some moderate success with his previous documentary film entitled TILT (a study of pinball as a game of skill, not merely change), Joe had every right to expect his next work, a piece on the myth of the American dream, to be received as his next great oeuvre.

The thing is, Joe is having a hard time finishing his film. He<s getting distracted and the project is turning into a beast. This might be due to the fact that he and his partner are about to have a baby. This may also be due to the noise created by the rise of a certain political figure. He`s unemployed, too proud to take a job through nepotism, and his nightly jaunts are forcing him to confront his priorities during one of the most tumultuous times in recent American history. He’s losing it.

Tilt is an interesting riff on what it means to be an educated and entitled American in “today`s America”. He`s fully aware of the myth behind the American dream and yet, lets the hunt for its rewards chip at him slowly. Joe doesn’t relate to the superficiality he sees around him and in that regard, his struggles are similar to those of many that comprise the Intelligencia, seemingly unable to relate to the burdens and priorities of the average Joe. In some regard Joe`s transformation is very much mirroring what is going on around him.

I’ll leave it at that. If in fact the American genre scene is going through a birthing period, then I believe Tilt is the bloody show.

Replace (Germany/Canada, 2017, Dir Norbert Keil)

Body horror is a marketing expression that gets thrown around allot these days by filmmakers burdened with the need to qualify their work. It`s often used to describe films in which the character’s spiritual evolution is expressed externally through an explicit transformation of their self…. Something else that gets thrown around a lot these days Barbara Crampton! Her name can be found in the title credits of just about every festival film over the last couple of years! If there`s a sure way to get an applause during your film, put Barbara in your movie! In all seriousness, I love the attention she is getting from this new generation of filmmakers, whether it be from more contemporary work (such as We are Still Here and You`re Next)  to her cash-ins for schlock and nostalgia.

Anyway, Kira has come down with something. Her memory isn`t quite what it used to be and I’m pretty sure she needs to see a dermatologist for this skin condition she`s developed. Actually, she`s already gone to see a doctor about it (Barbara Crampton!) and wouldn`t  you know it, sometimes, the price for beauty is much worst than the affliction itself.

Co-written by Richard Stanley (!) the pedigree of this film is greater than the sum of its parts. Strong female cast dealing with body image issues through the lens of a great story teller, with great visuals to boot, should have left me with an affliction worse than checking my watch. Strangely, I sensed elements of Species in the transformation and biological needs of Kira, but without the explosive element. Sort of like if Nicolas Winding Refn made a film about edging.

Replace is a curio piece that you should seek out, especially if you’re suffering from a bad case of vanity.

Killing Ground (USA, 2017, Dir: Damien Power)

As far as genre films are concerned, a horror movie set in Australia seems to write itself: humans confronted with wilderness in the awesomeness of the outback. Humans confronted with psycho killers in the awesomeness of the Outback.

There is of course something isolating and horrifying about this setting, which is of why it is often used. Let the natural backdrop of Australia do the talking; I get it. But from time to time, I’d love to see a story set in Australia about a maleficent force run amok amongst the coffee drinking hipster crowd of Melbourne, or maybe a riff on indigenous superstitions and the threat of encroachment.

Anyways, Killing Ground: psycho killers hunt down campers in the wilderness. The narrative of the film is done in such a way that the story hops between the perspectives of two different sets of campers. Yes, it`s arresting, yes it grips you emotionally and forces you to stare down the ugliness of what is happening to these characters in broad daylight, which in some ways seemed exploitative to me, like a southern hemisphere Last House on the Left.

If another take on outback survivalist from Australia is your thing, Killing Ground is another visit to the genre. Thing is though, you actually care about the fate of the characters being hunted down savagely and your night, or your libido, won`t be any better for it.

The Honor Farm (USA, 2017, Dir: Karen Skloss)

A nice surprise for me, The Honor Farm reminded me of Toad Road (another Fantasia favorite from a few years ago), told through the lens of Sixteen Candles. A trippy study of the emptiness that come with walking a path well travelled. Or in this case, graduating high school, going to prom, and having rapey sex.  

Prom as a setting to a horror film is a category in of itself. I rationalize America’s fascination with this time in one’s life not because it is relatable, but because it is the Disney-fixation of our love of lolitas. Also, for many people, Prom was a trans-formative experience and therefore ripe fruit for storytelling.

Lucy is a teen who, like many, was more focused on the “idea of prom” than by trying to understand what this time in her life actually meant for her. Like many, she’s pushed into the practice of limos, dresses, and categoric copulation. Her date ends up being a complete piece of shit and her night ends up taking a turn for the unexpected when a group of colleagues invite her to an after-prom….of terror! Well, not exactly. Yes, there’s a midnight séance deep in the forest. Yes, there are things that go awry in an abandoned mental hospital. Yes, there are plenty of other clichéd set pieces akin to a horror movie, but these are used to add colour, not dread.

The Honor Farm uses tools familiar to the horror genre to tell a tale of youthful individualism. There is a lack of purpose in this film that is refreshing and reminiscent of times spent sitting on a convenience store stoop, waiting for the next random fucking thing to happen.  

Cheers until part 2.

So long sunshine, I’m out!
Jo Satana