Play time is over: Cosplayer Claire (Erin Áine) in ZombieCON Vol. 1.
Here, finally, is the September review bundle – some two weeks late, but who’s counting? Thank you for your patience. Profuse apologies for the delay, due to time stress. It need be said that this batch of indie films presented some pretty tough sits, as the write-ups reflect. – Jim S
ZOMBIECON: VOLUME 1 *** (110 minutes)
A sweet variation on the standard zombie apocalypse routine finds four friends deeply embedded in cosplay culture doing battle with a-holes who have been transformed into zombies via a very specific curse.
A strong set up sees Guardians of the Galaxy fans Rocket (Manny Luke), Claire (co-writer Erin Aine), Javier (Christian Casillas) and Punkie (Punkie Johnson) win a contest over bitter rivals before being bullied in a convenience store, thus setting up some potent motivation, especially for the frustrated Rocket.
Helping ground the bizarre premise in the alt-authenticity of the cosplay realm are admirably convincing lead performances that sell the notion that their fantasy characters now have to step up and do actual battle in the real world.
It’s a fun lark overall, with plenty of realistic nerdy decor (posters, shelves of DVDs, t-shirts, etc) though director/co-writer Kyle Valle does struggle with a gaggle of pacing issues.
The film is far too long, due chiefly to awkward introspective stretches that slow down a piece that needed to concentrate on mayhem.
Too much screen time is also spent stuck in the apartment, raising the fear that the rest of the film is going to remain in situ – clearly the least interesting place from whence to experience a zombie apocalypse. Fortunately they move on, though it takes a while.
Thusly, it really should be written into the lore of low-budget movie making that special justification is needed to run a second beyond 90 minutes.
There are some good shock moments, yet there are some cheap effects, including an obviously fake knife that wobbles despite being securely anchored in a skull. Such novelty-store props are all-too-common in indie horror. Operating on a low budget is no excuse for such lapses.
Still, the piece holds together well enough as the gang traverse their stricken metropolis, hoping to reach a family member before the undead hordes.
There is some hint at a follow on. Here’s hoping it’s as good, but shorter.
For more, including screening options (US & Canada only), please visit here.
THE G ***1/2 (100 minutes)
A potent, slow-burn crime thriller that delivers its dramatic stings with surgical precision, The G shows what happens when criminals fail to conduct their due diligence before leaping upon somebody they think can’t return fire.
Unburdened by ethics or any sort of decency code, greasy corporate slimeball Rivera (Bruce Ramsay) targets elderly woman Ann Hunter (veteran character actor Dale Dickey, from Winter’s Bone and Breaking Bad) in a common scam by which he sends her to a care home and seizes her assets.
Trouble for him is that she ain’t no pushover as she taps her netherworld connections and calls in some muscle to sort things out, often impolitely.
Caught up in all this is Ann’s steadfast granddaughter Emma (Romane Denis) who is thrust into a steep learning curve about the darker side of life and the brutal nature of summary justice and vengeful violence.
The cold nature of this nefarious swirl of criminal thrust and parry is neatly refracted by the icy urban setting as writer/director Karl R Hearne moves his characters through the engrossing narrative with chess-like acuity.
A prime example of the less-is-more school, the direction never overplays matters or delves into outright exploitation, even though that’s the central theme. This allows Hearne to keep his dramatic powder dry and to deliver a clutch of moments that are truly arresting.
Solid performances throughout, this noir thriller is graced by the affecting, subdued turns from Dickey and Denis, each commanding the frame with conviction.
Admittedly, the film’s premise bears more than a passing similarity with the ripping 2020 drama I Care A Lot, with Rosamund Pike and Peter Dinklage. No loss of points there, though, given the differences in style and execution – execution being another theme at the centre of The G.
ROMANCING SYDNEY * (83 minutes)
Oh, dear. What a mess.
Things go bad within the first few seconds of this strained attempt at a romantic comedy as antique store employee Sachin (writer/director Anmol Mishra) deals with a troublesome customer.
As they engage ripples of deeply annoying music cues tell you that this is supposed to be funny. It continues without relent through the whole film, though that’s but one of the film’s many issues.
The rom-com premise is full of promise, tracking three couplings: Sachin and dancer Elisa (Susanne Richter); antique store owner Lilli (Gabrielle Chan) and alpha male employee George (Peter Hayes); and dancer Alex (Connor Dowling) and partner Zac (Brendon Wong).
The movie’s troubles are numerous: aside from Chan, the performances are dreadful, the dialogue flat and the comedy forced. Fantasy dance sequences pepper the film without any rhyme or reason, and there are story lapses.
Worst of all, the film has no third act, ending at a point where the narrative should have taken off. It’s a terrible ending that actually grinds against the tone the film clumsily tries (and fails) to realise.
Australian films have long struggled with third acts, either delivering poor ones or, more commonly, avoiding them altogether. Seems that indie films are not immune to this endemic problem.
Another problem the film shares with so many local films is that, while it is technically proficient – Mishra clearly loves good camera coverage and movement – it has the feel of something unfinished, as if production rolled a few drafts too early.
To be fair, Romancing Sydney stands in stark contrast to Mishra’s previous movie Death, an accomplished work from the outer rim of the independent film scene.
And the wordless trailer for Romancing Sydney is actually quite beautiful, full of moods and depth of feeling the film itself doesn’t come close to fulfilling.
For more, go here.
WALTZ * (100 minutes)
A good set-up descends into tiring torture porn waffle in Waltz, an ultra-low budget attempt at psychological horror that goes on too long and suffers from some laughably poor production.
After being fired for gross incompetence, lowly copywriter Alice (Hannah Keeley) dubiously decides to get into the online modelling game, despite the objections of her make friend Calvin (David Dietz), who helps her out nonetheless.
As well as dealing with a helicopter mother, she has obsessive former colleague Jenna (Jenny Hoppes) still in her orbit.
With flat lighting and merely adequate camerawork, the performances are actually quite good, especially from Brit Keeley, as the film builds nicely for about 40 minutes. There are clutches of realistic dialogue as character motivations are established.
Then, boom. Alice is abducted by a masked ghoul who engages her in a tiring interrogation that weaves in a bunch of themes including some #metoo riffs – and the whole thing collapses. And there’s still an hour to go.
One of the big problems is that it’s screamingly obvious who the kidnapped is, even if the voice is disguised by a Bane-like burr. So there’s no surprise at the inevitable point of revelation.
Another is how the high-school horror theatrics and the standard of the effects are so cheap it simply neuters the enterprise. You simply can’t terrorize somebody with a novelty-store knife obviously made of rubber. Even the gasoline can that turns up in the grand finale is empty.
Writer/director Joshua D Maley gives us a good half a film but lets it all slide once things get nasty.
The golden rule of horror, even for low-budget affairs, is that once you step into the realm of torture porn you’ve got to commit. Here, you can see the actors try, but it’s not enough to buoy the film’s second half.
Waltz is available on: Amazon Prime, Tubi, Google Play, YouTube Movies (US only)
For more info go here.
MASSACRE AT FEMUR CREEK 1/2 (82 minutes)
Well, this is garbage.
Not total garbage, mind. But bad enough to make you weep and wonder “why did they bother?”
On the eve of a wedding four buddies meet up for a bachelor party booze up deep in the woods (where else?).
Only, there’s a masked, knife-wielding maniac on the rampage they don’t know about. Add a reluctant stripper and you have the set-up for what is supposed to be a horror-comedy throwback to the classic genre fare of the early 1980s.
The awful opening sequence sets the tone for much of what follows.
Oddly, the early scenes of the four guys yapping and interacting are quite good. Not a bad premise. Why not keep the focus there? Because what totally wrecks the film are all the other scenes in which poor direction and terrible production simply render the enterprise dead.
The big lesson from this film – from which other aspiring low-budget horror movie filmmakers might want to take heed – is that there is a universe of difference between a film made on the cheap and a film that reeks of being cheap, as though wallowing in cheapness is some form of entertainment.
Perhaps it can be, provided the effort is fuelled by style and a propulsive narrative. That certainly ain’t the case here, begging the question: where is the influence of The Blair Witch Project? The legacy of that landmark horror film appears to have disappeared entirely.
Cheap production values take the viewer out of the picture. Bad continuity, shots that don’t match, party-store horror effects, cheap blood, bad acting, erratic performance standards, overuse of music, clumsy editing. They’re all here.
While writer/director Kyle Hytonen shows some flair with his central quartet of actors, those sequences are at odds with the rest of the film.
To wit, there are far too many scenes that look like weekend schoolboy video larks. The sequence with the amateur filmmakers, for instance, could have – should have – been excised totally, as it adds nothing to the story. And it’s terrible.
To hammer an earlier point, perhaps the story would have worked more efficiently and effectively had it stuck to the four guys, revealing everything going on with the maniac and the killing spree from their perspective.
As it is, Massacre at Femur Creek shares with many other low-budget ventures the distinct feeling that it started shooting several drafts shy of nailing the narrative.
The film is a mess that was tough to endure, especially when it became clear the basic convention of continuity – a crucial production value, particularly in low-budget films – was abandoned.
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