Film Daze

Everything We’re Excited to See At Fantasia This Year For many, summertime is a bright, slow-sprawling haze, crowded with sun-soaked and zinc-caked days, soundtracked by the buzz of insects and the ripple of water. But for those who have a penchant for the sardonic, pulpy, or down-right horrifying, for those who love the sumptuous bite of genre cinema, July means the arrival of Fantasia International Film Festival, North America’s largest genre film festival.

A crocodile’s corpse is not something I ever thought I would have sympathy for — but then again, I never thought he’d do it, he being a man world-worn and toothpick-thin. A better student of anatomy would be able to chart the sinewy fibers in the hunter’s back and arms, how they sway with each tense moment.

There is something in every atheist itching to believe, and something in every believer itching to doubt. Writer Mignon McLaughlin explored this idea in The Second Neurotic’s Notebook, which has become a roadmap of sorts for my interpretations of the world around me, whether that be how I feel about the universe I call magic, or the beliefs programmed into or cultivated in my peers.

After a storied career creating two entries in cult classic Cartoon Saloon’s “Irish folklore trilogy” — including the Oscar-nominated Wolfwalkers, the subject of our interview — screenwriter Will Collins speaks with a surprisingly youthful conviction about the power of storytelling. His beliefs are rooted as much in the folklore of his home country of Ireland as in the lingering uncertainty in all of us.

For as long as I have been conscious, Markiplier (real name Mark Fischbach) lived on the phone screen of my best friend. Our walks around our idyllic, grass-laden middle school during the perpetually hot Floridian (insert literally any season here) were soundtracked to the famous “My name’s Markiplier” introduction to his YouTube videos and girlish screams.

In a stuffy English pub, a boy in a goofy barbershop quartet ensemble is wordlessly cruised by a man in biker’s leather, offered only a time and place scrawled on a holiday card. As directed, the boy arrives in the alleyway of their local Primark on Christmas night. Among empty grocery delivery boxes, the boy fumbles through a blowjob (he’s much better at licking the man’s boots) before thanking him for the opportunity.

There is a single honeyed thread woven throughout the subdued quiet of Drunken Noodles — quite literally. In every change of “act” (which is also a change of lover), there is a title screen. An older man appears from behind, and we, via the camera peering over his shoulder, watch him physically embroider a new piece, a foreboding anecdote about this new lover’s place. This is how Drunken Noodles feels to the naked eye: surrealistic.

A two-minute curiosity, an exercise in illumination — Time Life Volume 15. Monument to a Period of Time in Which I Lived is a fascinating look at temporary space. As a candle burns down to the end of its wick, we see a variety of pages from a diverse collection of books flash behind it, all with a candle at the center. Part meditation, part ceremony, part time keeping — interpretation of this short film is up to the audience.

A film that feels necessary to witness on a big screen is a rare sort of magic. With his second feature, Spanish director Gabriel Azorín sought to create that special alchemy. Though at times Last Night I Conquered the City of Thebes feels stilted in action, it’s still absolutely necessary to be experienced in theaters. The movie follows a group of men who meet at some Roman baths (typical of the Spanish countryside), where hot water l flows to the surface from ancient carved stone.

The magnificence of writer-director Ben Rivers’ latest offering, Mare’s Nest, is entirely in its willingness to hope. In this delightful fable, childhood becomes a universe unto itself, where the greatest hopes of the best of us are met with open arms, even in the oftentimes feared setting of a post-modern “dystopia.” Mare’s Nest follows the darlingly peculiar Moon (a sparkling debut for Moon Guo Barker) as she explores the fascinating imagined future of a post-apocalyptic, child-only society.