SXSW 2020 Capsule Reviews
South by South West was unfortunately canceled this year. It was bummer not only for us, but more so for the filmmakers who were ready to show their work to audiences, launch their careers, and be discovered. The cancelation has affected the industry in immediate and far reaching ways, but in lieu of the cancelation, several films are making the best of the situation and proceeding via screener links, local screenings, and phone interviews.
Over the next ten days, we too will be proceeding with coverage and writing about as many films as we can in the hopes of highlighting the talents of these budding filmmakers. It’s a small gesture, but the least we can do in light of this situation. Come back daily to see what we’ve been watching from this virtual SXSW film festival.
Once Upon A Time In Uganda
“Once Upon a Time in Uganda isn’t an exact making- of documentary, but its finest moments are when it takes the time to marvel at the elements of Wakaliwood that make it matter. The film shines when its focusing on the act of creation; the prop masters, the actors, the costumers giving behind the scenes glimpses into Bad Black and their upcoming feature, Eaten Alive in Uganda, which has soared to the top of my most-anticipated list. Machine guns, squibs, camera rigs, miniature models, and an entire helicopter are all scrapped together out of spare parts, and wielded with immense pride before a green screen. And while Wakaliwood can do American film, America could never do Wakaliwood. The unpolished backdrop of the ghetto is evident always, in dirt roads and canals of raw sewage. Nabwana’s films never pretend to be anything other than the product of a deeply impoverished community, representing an existence that only he is able to accurately capture. This film is a continuation of the feelings that Nabwana’s works generate, which is that every act of filmmaking is miraculous.”
Full Review Can Be Found Here
-Megan Bernovich
Midnight Shorts
“A healthy addition to every film festival are the midnighters, particularly the midnight shorts. With each passing festival, I find myself paying more attention to this programming block because of the creativity on display. It’s reliably home to the strangest, weirdest, and spookiest offerings a festival has, and their form factor lets you sample a smattering of styles, genres, and influences within a two hour window. There you’ll find classic horror thrills, high concept premises, and hybrid genre benders you never knew you wanted until you laid eyes on them. If you don’t like one, it isn’t long before the next, and you get something entirely different. While narrative shorts and short subject docs have their place, midnighters often surprise in more ways than one.
This year’s nine selected shorts lean heavily into the traditionally defined horror genre, forgoing some of the weirder varietals for genuine thrills and chills thanks to macabre imagery and unsettling narratives. The standout among them is Regret by Santiago Menghini. Opening with ominous low level shots of a red and gray city scape, the film follows an all too busy white collar business man in the aftermath of his father’s death. Cooped up in his hotel room late one night, a black monolithic figure, the physical manifestation of regret, appears with a knife, only inching closer whenever the man looks away.
Isolation and a pervading sense of unease characterize the film, as if the world is a nightmare come to life and the man is the only inhabitant. He runs through an empty hotel uncertain of the stalker’s presence, but knowing all too well the figure is chasing him. Every time the camera looks away, you’re on edge, scanning the environment for movement, listening closely for the silhouette figure’s approach. It’s an inner demon horror tale, executed with an eerie stroke of terror and suspense that works brilliantly within the confines of its scope.”
Full Review of the Midnight Shorts Program Can Be Found Here
-Greg Arietta
A Thousand Cuts
“Diaz sets out to show how any country can quickly slide into practices against their own constitution. While most of the events portrayed are harrowing in and of themselves, Diaz’s ending surpasses them all, showing the fight ongoing, both for the truth, for justice, and for the Drug War. How have these values espoused by Duterte continue to grow alongside Ressa’s critical voice against him? Ressa herself was awarded the TIME Magazine Person of the Year in 2018 for her reporting on the Drug War. How does Duterte’s reach and influence seem to be increasing? Diaz leaves this sinisterly unresolved. A Thousand Cuts can only offer us a glimpse into how these thoughts permeate the country. Time is spent following two Duterte-sympathizers and their quest for public office. In their tangents, the scale of Duterte’s social media disinformation campaign and influence becomes clear. Every new perspective shows the authoritarian rot sinking into the foundation of the current administration. While the end is not in sight, it does not mean the fight is over. In these dark times for the Philippines and for any citizen seeing a bit of their own country in A Thousand Cuts, it’s comforting to know the ideals at stake are resting squarely on someone like Maria Ressas’ shoulders.”
Full Review Can Be Found Here
-Kevin Conner
Lapsis
“In Lapsis’ dystopian future, the gig economy has run amuck, health care costs are exorbitant, and the digital divide has never been greater. For Ray Tincelli, it just means getting by one day at a time. As a currier delivering lost airplane luggage, he’s not bringing in enough money to pay for advanced medical treatments needed for his ailing younger brother. In a last ditch effort, he picks up ‘cabling,’ a job in the gig economy that involves connecting quantum computers across forested terrain. It promises quick easy money, but as he soon finds out, the spoils promised by corporate America, to him and his other contract workers, don’t come without strings attached.
Lapsis has a clever setup. Without heavy exposition, it lays down the foundation of its sci-fi dystopia with clarity. It doesn’t take much to understand concepts like cabling because it feels like a natural extension of where we’re currently at. This future dystopia isn’t like that of say Minority Report, but rather the near future, ten or so years from now, and as such, the film doesn’t need to over explain concepts. It has a pick and go nature to it where you aren’t stuck wadding through exposition or made up concepts, a strength in the realm of science-fiction.”
Full Review Can Be Found Here
-Greg Arietta
Make Up
“More impressively is how Make Up can transition in and out of these moments of psychological surrealism without whiplash. Ruth’s suspicions manifest themselves in scenes of psychological horror, taking on a thriller-like quality to them. To paint a picture, there is a moment where Ruth showers in the communal bathroom and begins to hear sex noises in the adjacent stall. She speculates if the couple copulating on the other side of the wall involves Tom, and she starts to project her fears onto it. But this moment isn’t limited to one scene. The incident reoccurs later on with changed details and different perspective from Ruth. It’s a shifting recollection that calls into question the reality of the situation at hand and whether Ruth’s suspicions are valid or compulsive. It is no small feat that these moments of nightmarish thinking are conveyed with as much clarity as they do, but I would say it is a testament to Oakley’s direction, one that navigates a difficult narrative proposition with steadfast vision, that it succeeds. A truly impressive act from a first time feature film director.
Then there is the discovery. Without spoiling the reveal, there is moment where the film makes its jump, going from the ephemeral to the concrete and solidifying the narrative questions proposed. Scenes that posed speculation are given answers, even if only emotionally and not literally. It is here where a moment of self realization takes hold, and an aching poeticism emerges from Ruth’s journey. For much of the narrative she is haunted, tortured by a reality she didn’t want to be true, but by the time we reach the end, there is reprieve and release waiting that feels honest, and for the first time in the film, we know the truth.”
Full Review Can Be Found Here
-Greg Arietta
Rare Beasts
“Through Mandy’s eyes we see the world. It’s filled with women internally chastising themselves for their insecurities and men oblivious to their surroundings. Men are bosses, coworkers self-divide by gender, and people don’t need a partner to survive, but they want one nonetheless. At least, Mandy does. She has a child with an ex so she isn’t naive when it comes to a partner. She has experienced life to an extent where you know her world view has changed because of it. You understand her concerns and expectations for a significant-other, but even so, the world looks so different through her lens. Rare Beasts’ cinematic language is so intertwined with Mandy’s insecurities that the audience is asked to see every eccentricity of the film through that prism. Dialogue is unfiltered and blunt much like Mandy. People speak in a primal insecurity, lacking nuance or compassion. Paranoia is palpable. “Women live in this world that seems like nuclear warfare that no one else lives in,” Pete exclaims in a tense moment with Mandy as their potential wedding date looms. Disregarding Pete’s lack of empathy in the moment, his line almost feels like a wakeup call to a lost point of view. Historically, and for the majority of, cinema has been told through a decidedly male lens and critiqued by other such men. However representative of Mandy’s view is that of other women, it is a refreshing choice to see a film that looks, acts and thinks from her perspective if nothing else.”
Full Review Can Be Found Here
-Kevin Conner
For Madmen Only
“For Madmen Only paints a portrait of a troubled genius through conventional documentary means. Narration guides us through events while students give testimony speaking to his brilliance, and through all of this, you get the sense that wherever Close went, greatness was born. Story after story, pupil after pupil, a culminating effect emerges from hearing so many of your favorite comedians speak so highly of him. He had a gift for the craft, but he was also very strange. Pouring coleslaw down his pants for a better performance, attending a cult retreat to cure his cocaine addiction, and altering the story of his father’s suicide are just a smattering of the anecdotes that make Close an eccentric figure. It builds a dichotomy of character, one that is both admirable and concerning. But as I rattle all famous names associated Close in an effort to prove his importance, there is a simultaneous strain of sadness that For Madmen Only recognizes: Close was never famous himself.
For all the brilliance he exuded, for all the influence he had, for all the comedians he helped shape, he never got his time to shine like they did. The doc speculates on what it must be like to give birth to so many talents, but never be recognized at large. A condition of being a teacher I suppose, it makes you realize the relevancy of the phrase, “We stand on the shoulders of giants.” Del Close never became famous, but the fact that he was able to spawn so many comedians through his teachings makes you realize just how much of a genius he really was.”
Full Review Can Be Found Here
-Greg Arietta
Feels Good Man
“The gentle voice of cartoonist Matt Furie narrates as he draws curved lines and rounded shapes to form an amphibian face. A few practiced strokes of a marker result in a perfectly drawn Pepe the Frog, a content grin on his face. Anyone with an internet connection probably recognizes Pepe, and everyone, for better or worse, associates him with something. Feels Good Man, directed by Furie’s friend Arthur Jones, documents a genie’s escape from the bottle without getting lost in any one of the mind boggling chapter of Pepe’s story. Considering it’s about an internet meme, the film has a very serious grasp on the power of semiotics and works hard to educate its audience about modern modes of propaganda.
It begins by outlining the dangers of decontextualization of phrases and images from their origins, in this case Furie’s comic Boys Club. A comic about four cool dudes who smoke weed, eat pizza, and play video games together features Pepe’s friend asking why he pees with his pants pulled down and Pepe responding casually with “feels good man.” As Furie uploaded the comic to Myspace, he unwittingly offered both the frog and this phrase up for use.
But without any relation to the original text, the simplicity and expressiveness of this little frog is something anyone could project onto, and subsequently relate to a peaceful smiling Pepe, or a crying Pepe, or a smirking Pepe. He is a passive avatar, susceptible to ranges of emotional and paradigms, and when left to the uncontrollable devices of the internet, was hijacked as a symbol of white supremacy and fascism. He was coopted by the likes of Alex Jones and Richard Spencer, and ultimately winded up on the Anti Defamation League’s list of hate symbols. And Pepe truly is the perfect example of semiotics theory run amok; signs are images that communicate a meaning without using language that any conditioned reader will understand. And once a sign is established, its meaning is nearly impossible to change.”
Full Review Can be Found Here
-Megan Bernovich
I Used to Go Here
““I was afraid to fail and then I did fail” is the true summary of her journey as Kate eventually admits. But it’s not before writer/director Kris Rey pauses and lets the audience stew in that thought. But the intimacy of I Used to Go Here makes you question if just the thinnest of facades may be being used here. “Are we afraid to fail?” we find ourselves asking. Could that quote be autobiographical? The movie keeps those cards close to its chest. The thought feels universal nonetheless. The audience does get the sense however that Kate believes her book is bad. I Used to Go Here is not coy about that. We watch as she dances around giving the thought of failure anything more than the minimal amount at the very back of her brain. But if nothing else, Rey forces us to sit with these hard truths in sometimes unexpected ways. Kate believes what many people do growing up, that someday you will reach an age where you have your future figured out. That putting your head down and doing the work will eventually lead you to feeling confident in your abilities. Kate has reached that age without that result. Now what?”
Full Review Can Be Found Here
-Kevin Conner
The Carnivores
“In Caleb Michael Johnson’s film The Carnivores, an underlying issue pervades Bret’s (Lindsay Burdge) and Alice’s (Tallie Medel) relationship. Bret is acting distant, Alice is trying to get closer, and between them is Bret’s sick dog, Harvey. Putting a toll on their finances and their relationship, Alice struggles to find her place in the relationship when the well being of the dog is prioritized above all else. Bret obsesses over the dog constantly, and Alice finds herself emotionally neglected, manifesting her psychological troubles by sleepwalking at night and breaking with her vegetarian diet via cravings for meat.
During one of those comatose sleepwalks, Alice wakes up in a ditch with a dog’s ear next to her. Given her distain for Harvey and her recent impulses, she believes she has killed, and possibly eaten her girlfriend’s pet. The ensuing events see Bret desperately trying to find her dog while Alice works to recover the relationship while hiding what she has done.
The Carnivores works heavily in metaphor. Oblique and opaque at times, Johnson intermingles notions of lustful cravings, finding peace with letting go, and reconnecting a damaged relationship through a missing dog and carnivorous tendencies. In a director’s statement, Johnson says, “I've long been interested in the ways in which people in a relationship conceal and consume themselves and each other for better and worse, intentionally or accidentally.” While I don’t know how well it all congeals, especially near the climax, it resolves in a way that assures healing.”
Full Review Can Be Found Here
-Greg Arietta
Drunk Bus
“Bucking a failed relationship can be tough to do. For Michael, it means staying in the same routine he’s had for the last four years. His ex-girlfriend left him years ago for New York, but he hasn’t moved on, continuing his much hated job as the driver of the ‘drunk bus,’ a late night commuter shuttle that transports college students home after a night of partying. On one route, Michael gets into an altercation, and for his protection, the transportation department issues him a body guard named Pineapple. Reluctant at first, Michael eventually warms up to his new passenger. Pineapple’s existential wisdom proves insightful, and with each passing night on the drunk bus, Michael learns more about life, himself, and how to finally move on.
Drunk Bus plays itself first and foremost as a comedy. Pooping on the bus, aggressive sex moans, and getting girls to kiss are just a handful of the film’s comedic beats that characterize an immature narrative of motivational discovery. As if written in a frat house, Drunk Bus likens itself to raunchy teen comedies of the early 2000s. Moments of gravitas are periodically sprinkled in to hit home deeper moments of development, but the issue is how often that tone can be muddied by obtuse humor and odd tonal choices.”
Full Review Can Be Found Here
-Greg Arietta
I’ll Meet You There
The tale of torn identity is at the heart of Iram Parveen Bilal’s I’ll Meet You There, a family drama that sees a father and daughter confronting themselves and asking if and how religion will play a role in their lives. Majeed is a Chicago police who is tasked by the FBI to infiltrate his community’s mosque for criminal activity. Dua, his daughter, is an aspiring dancer who has hopes of attending Juilliard. But when their elder Baba unceremoniously visits them, the religious ties they cut out of their lives start to creep back in, and as he tries to reconnect with his estranged family after years of separation, Dua and Majeed find his traditionalist views at odds with the lives they are living.
The question arises time and again how Majeed and Dua will let their identities define them, and if or how they can coexist. For Majeed, his oath to protect and serve as a police officer puts his community at risk when he shills for the FBI who profiles their place of worship. Dua finds a new appreciation for her culture when Baba returns, but feels distanced when she learns that culture doesn’t support what she is passionate about.
The film draws from this confusion, this attraction to your culture and community while also feeling alienated or conflicted by it, and makes it the central theme. It can feel surface level at times, often echoing the torn identity narrative that makes regular appearances throughout cinematic history, but Bilal imbues that structure with her (presumably) own experiences. She walks a fine line between condemnation and approval for religion, threading the needle for both Dua and Majeed as they parse through their emotions. It is not clear cut, and as the film’s ending points out, there is place somewhere in between where the two can coexist.
-Greg Arietta
Hamtramck, USA
In Hamtramck, Michigan, the United States found itself the first Muslim majority city. Once an enclave of Polish immigrants, the city has progressively shifted its demographics to Bangladeshi, Iraqi, and Middle Eastern immigrants. In this documentary, we observe the city’s competitive local election as officials representing the new demographics compete against incumbent officials representing the diminishing population of Poles.
The inclusion of ‘USA’ at the end of the title suggests a larger issue, as if the situation here in Hamtramck is representative of themes across the country. Hamtramck, USA asks us to consider how America’s demographic makeup is shifting and how, for a country with a white majority, to not feel threatened by it. At times, the film can feel rather myopic for its ambitions. The doc progresses linearly with minor conflict or friction between competitors, and the framing of events distances itself the larger issues at play in the country in favor of a direct cinema atheistic. The end result is something more of a window into an election rather than a portrait of the far reaching themes it represents.
-Greg Arietta