Fantastic Fest

The Luv Doc Recommends

September 22, 2010

Alamo Drafthouse South Lamar

How could you go wrong with something named Fantastic Fest? Well, OK, if you really loved The English Patient or Lost in Translation, you might not appreciate the jackhammer nuance of Fantastic Fest fare. If The Remains of the Day is your idea of two hours well-spent, then it’s unlikely your taste is going to dovetail with the festival that brought you The Human Centipede – a movie that, if nothing else, shockingly proves the saying, “If you can conceive it, you can achieve it.” It also makes a fairly strong case for 1) remembering to renew your OnStar subscription and 2) the decline of Western civilization. (It’s probably used as an al Qaeda recruitment film too.) As disturbing as The Human Centipede is (the disturbing part not being so much the movie itself but the fact that it actually got funded, filmed, and distributed), it’s not a particularly inventive film. It is, however, an incredibly ballsy one – and perhaps a sobering look at what’s coming down the pike in the horror genre. Expect to see titles like The Human ToiletDonkey Show Snuff Gallery, and Babies in a Blender, all filmed in 3-D with spectacular computer-generated graphics. Think Grand Theft Auto quality with lots of chain saws, wood chippers, and other dangerous power implements ripping through human flesh in an impressive cascade of urine, feces, and blood. Who wouldn’t want to see that? If you let your imagination run wild, it may just run wild enough to make it into your local cineplex. If you’re really lucky, your imagination might even end up being a video game … or vice versa. Think that’s crazy? Well crazy has already happened plenty of times: Mortal KombatResident EvilTomb RaiderBloodRayneStreet FighterWing CommanderSuper Mario Bros. The list goes on and on, and, interestingly, no film based on a video game has ever scored higher than 43% on Rotten Tomatoes’ Tomatometer. Critics can be so critical. In comparison, The English Patient rocks an 83%, and The Remains of the Day nearly pegs it at 97%. Somehow James Ivory managed to pull that off without stitching Emma Thompson’s lips to Anthony Hopkins’ keister … well, maybe in a metaphorical sense. The Remains of the Day is its own kind of genre film – that being tedious British films about repressed Victorian values – but fortunately Fantastic Fest doesn’t dabble in that kind of fare. If there is a staid English butler in a Fantastic Fest film, he probably has a full crawl space and is a secret sorcerer, a robot from the future, or a badass martial artist who can plunge his hand into your chest cavity and pull out your still-beating heart. Sounds cool, doesn’t it? It gets even cooler than that – albeit in a slightly nerdy way. Fantastic Fest has more than 170 official screenings, parties, and events: everything from film debates finished off by actual boxing matches to live karaoke, dance parties, video-game competitions, and even an off-site, cow-on-a-spit barbecue complete with knife-throwing and bullwhip demonstrations. This year, during the first four days, Fantastic Fest has transformed the HighBall ballroom into a makeshift arcade that features 29 different games by cutting-edge game developers. Everyone knows that video games are like flypaper for nerds, so if you’re on the prowl for some nerd loving, you’ll definitely want to work that room.

Fantastic Fest Michael Jackson Dance Party

The Luv Doc Recommends

September 23, 2009

Michael Jackson was one seriously messed up … uh … let’s just say “dude” until the full autopsy gets published … but he produced some badass dance jams. If someone cranks up “Don’t Stop ‘Til You Get Enough” in your immediate vicinity and you don’t start full on moonwalking – or at least a reflexive mook head bob – check your pulse. You’re probably dead. Look around the room. If you see Nicole Kidman, a couple of pasty-faced kids, and a frost-breathing Bruce Willis, you may need to start dancing toward the light. That could be where the Michael Jackson music is coming from. Here in the terrestrial world there is a considerable amount of debate as to where MJ will take up residence in the afterlife. If Michael manages to pull off a “Neverland: Extended Edition,” in heaven it’s safe to say that he should be blissfully content. There seem to be a lot of naked baby angels fluttering around up there – especially if Italian Renaissance paintings are to be trusted, and why shouldn’t they be? Italy is the home of God’s personal PR firm. Yes, if Michael makes it past the pearly gates, he’ll be set: No more need for the petting zoo, amusement park rides, and protracted court cases, just a smorgasbord of pink-skinned cherubim. If, however, MJ spends eternity a little farther south, no problem there either. As Pat Benatar says, “Hell is for children,” and you have to figure that in hell, even pedophilia gets the green light. Of course, the “down” side would be having to listen to Creed 24/7. Looking at it karmically you have to wonder: Does giving humanity “Off the Wall” and “Thriller” earn MJ any credit toward a twisted lifetime of alleged pederasty and general weirdness? Tough call. Yes, MJ was fond of sleeping with children, but so was Jerry Lee Lewis. He was also criminally negligent with the Jheri Curl and the geisha makeup and the plastic elf nose, but did that make him a monster? No, fame made him a monster (with maybe an assist from Diana Ross), and it was fame well deserved. If only MJ’s sexual proclivities leaned toward chubby Jewish girls like Monica Lewinsky instead of prepubescent boys, he might have gotten a pass. In his premutant days, Michael could have shagged anything he wanted – sort of like Elvis or Louis the 14th. Somewhere around the ten thousandth groupie, ennui has to set in. There has to be an inclination to improvise like Thelonious Monk: Animal. Mineral. Vegetable. Chances are MJ was just working through his smooth-skin phase. Had he lived to be 100, he might have gotten into snow leopard cubs or baby seals or something … who knows? And really, unless you’ve been there, it’s tough to throw stones. In the wake of MJ’s death, all we’re really left with is compassion, wonderment, and, perhaps most importantly, an ass-shaking oeuvre. You can enjoy that oeuvre this Sunday night at the Alamo’s new bowling alley/karaoke bar/lounge, the Highball, where boy band sensation Henri Mazza will be holding a Michael Jackson Dance Party as a part of this year’s Fantastic Fest. This is a good chance to see the Highball in all its tuck-and-roll splendor, before it’s grand opening in October, and a nice opportunity to honor the King of Pop through expressive movement.