The 2024 Nightmares Film Festival — the Cannes of genre fests — is in the books! One highlight from the fest was their panel discussion concerning independent film distribution. Hope joins filmmaker Joe Swanberg, marketer Cicely Enriques and Phil Garrett from Cranked Up/Good Deed Entertainment.
by George Wolf
Is this a faux documentary? A true crime thriller? Found footage horror? It’s all of that, at least some of the time.
You know what, just don’t worry about it and enjoy the clever way Hunting Matthew Nichols tips its hat to a variety of genre influences.
Director and co-writer Markian Tarasiuk plays himself as a documentary filmmaker out to solve an over-two-decades-old missing persons case. Canadian teens Matthew and Jordan went missing on Halloween night of 2001, and now Matthew’s sister Tara (Tara Nichols) is teaming with Markian to get to the bottom of what really happened.
Early on, we come along on an engaging hunt for clues. A succession of solid supporting performances bring welcome authenticity to Tara’s fact-finding interviews, until a surprise discovery turns the film on its found footage ear.
The missing kids were big fans of the Blair Witch Project, and took a camcorder into Black Bear Forest to uncover the local legend of Roy McKenzie. This turns out to be a slyly organic way of acknowledging the big comparisons that will follow, and to setup the type of in-your-face finale that more than a few BWP naysayers may have preferred.
The ride is well-paced and impressively assembled, and the payoff is satisfying enough to make you forget about who’s manning the camera or why we’re watching reactions to a shocking videotape instead of the tape itself.
But this Hunt is a fun one, and it comes complete with a mid-credits stinger that flirts with the possibility of another chapter.
If so, count me in.
by Brooklyn Ewing
Have you ever found yourself gripping the edge of your seat while watching a movie? Well, Jayden Creighton’s The Matriarch had me holding on for dear life.
The film kicks off when 13 year old Missy Taylor, (Juliette Greenfield) kills her addict mother’s nasty boyfriend in self defense, and is subsequently terrorized by her very own mother all night long. This horror thriller offers up some incredible cat and mouse moments that had me yelling at the screen.
Fans of The Evil Dead, The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, and The Shining will love spotting Creighton’s horror homages. I found myself excitedly watching for more influences as the film progressed. If you love the tension in movies like Hush or Don’t Breathe, then you will absolutely fall in love with The Matriarch.
Creighton created a mother we don’t want to love, and it was a blast rooting for Missy as she does everything in her power to survive the night. Newcomer Greenfield knocks it out of the park. Taking on such strong material and really going for it is hard for any actor, and she nailed it.
Kate Logan tackles her character Annette, the mother, like a monster. If you love the jacked-up delivery of Bruce Campbell and Jack Nicholson, then get ready to see Logan take it there. She’s a true talent who isn’t afraid to push this movie into the absurd and terrifying. It’s fun to watch her work.
The Matriarch features a killer score that reminded me of classics like The Evil Dead, and a lot of 90s and early 2000s horror. It moves the already quick paced flick to full fledged heart attack mode. This would be a really fun movie to watch in the dark with a group of friends who scream during great jump scares.
If you have Mommy issues, or just love a great game of hide and seek on the big screen, then The Matriarch is a do not miss.
by Daniel Baldwin
At what point does an artist lose themselves in technology? Sure, tech is now an important part of art. It can help achieve quicker completion of a project. It can also add layers of depth and resonance to it that would not have been possible a decade earlier. But at what point can one’s art actually be undermined by technological advancements? It’s a conversation at the forefront of all forms of art these days, especially in the wake of A.I. It is also one of the questions that lie at the core of Decibel.
The film centers on a young, talented musician named Scout (Aleyse Shannon) who plies her trade in local bars. The crowds that she performs for might be small, but her musical freedom in those spaces is immense. There’s not much money to be had in small gigs, however, so she’s on the verge of becoming a starving artist. Perhaps even a homeless one too. Enter tech mogul turned music producer Donna (Stefanie Estes). A rising, powerful name in the industry, Donna offers Scout a chance to record her music at a state-of-the-art studio in the desert, away from all of the distractions of life.
Scout – apprehensive about losing some control over her art, but also needing some money and a big break – accepts the offer. After all, who can pass up such a chance of a lifetime? Being a thriller, you can see where this is going. And you would be correct. It’s a tale as old as time: if any offer sounds too good to be true, it usually is.
With his third feature, director Zac Locke ups the ante. From a technical perspective, this is his most accomplished work to date. From a narrative perspective, while he did not write this particular film, you can still see thematic continuations of his previous works.
Locke has managed to combine the notion of “fame comes with a cost” (#Float) and “don’t ignore your instincts when things feel wrong” (Santa Isn’t Real) into an intriguing cautionary tale on the dangers of allowing your art to be overtaken by others and weaponized against you. Add in two great lead performances and some striking visuals and you have what is his best film to date. Decibel is worth tuning into and Locke remains a filmmaker to keep an eye on.
by George Wolf
You get the sense early on that the German thriller Trunk may have some pleasant surprises in store.
Malina (Sina Martens, terrific in a physically demanding role) wakes up to find herself badly injured and confined to the trunk of a car. The trunk is ajar, and before the driver returns to shut her inside, Malina is able to retrieve her cell phone.
And lemme guess, the phone’s almost dead, right?
FULL POWER.
Okay, then, here we go! Dialing a series of well-chosen contacts, Malina has to 1) stay alive, and 2) piece together what’s happening while she looks for an escape route.
Writer/director Marc Schießer proves a solid triple threat here, also handling the editing duties with a deft hand and solid instincts for pacing and tension.
The cinematography is on point, as well. And while this particular trunk seems unusually roomy, Scheiber consistently lands precisely the type of claustrophobic camera angles and POV shots that Liam Nesson’s recent car-centric thriller Retribution tried in vain to achieve.
You may end up sniffing out some the mystery at play, but even so, Schießer’s finale will be no less satisfying. Trunk is a tense, crowd-pleasing thriller, one that adds enough detours to a well-traveled road until it’s fun again.
So climb in, and enjoy the ride.
In this bonus episode recorded live at Nightmares Film Festival from Gateway Film Center, the fest’s panel on what distribution looks like in 2023 for independent horror filmmakers.
This year Hope got to join a panel with Justin Seaman of Nevermore Production Film (and filmmaker behind The Barn & The Barn 2), Cicely Enriquez of The Owens Group, and Scott Donley of Good Deed/Cranked Up Films. Thanks to everyone who participated!
by Brandon Thomas
A good creature feature is hard to do on an indie budget. Many filmmakers have tried – and failed spectacularly – to bring monsters to life with little money and even worse, little imagination. The Beast of Walton Street bucks that trend by delivering thrilling monster mayhem and a steady supply of wit and heart.
In a nameless Ohio town, a beast is roaming the Christmas decorated streets and picking off the most vulnerable: the unhoused. Friends Constance (Athena Murzda) and Sketch (Mia Jones) live on the fringes of society – barely scraping by and living in an abandoned auto repair shop. As the two notice more and more of the city’s at-risk residents disappearing, they decide to take matters into their own hands and defend their town from the ravenous beast.
There’s a palpable level of energy that flows through the entirety of The Beast of Walton Street. Director Dusty Austen’s competency behind the camera is evident and admirable. The level of care and skill shown toward the craft of filmmaking is immediately recognizable in the editing, blocking, lighting, and shot composition. Craft is something that unfortunately falls to the wayside in many indie films, but in The Beast of Walton Street it’s on full display.
Austen is wisely economical when it comes to showing the titular beast (which is actually a werewolf). How Austen chose to shoot and edit around the beast is truly impressive. This reviewer was reminded of Ridley Scott’s Alien on more than one occasion. The ferocity of the werewolf is never lost on the viewer and so much of that is due to Austen’s confident handling of craft.
On the flip-side, the human element of Beast of Walton Street is just as impressive. While Murzda carries the film as the lead, both she and Jones have a delightfully charming chemistry that makes the beast-less scenes just as fun. While neither actor has a long resume (yet!), their comfort and flexibility in front of the camera is evident.
The Beast of Walton Street doesn’t reinvent the werewolf wheel, but what it does is offer up an Amblin-esque punk rock creature feature, and that is more than enough for me.
by Daniel Baldwin
Earlier this year, quirky auteur Wes Anderson gifted us Asteroid City, which is probably best described as “What if Looney Tunes did its own take on Close Encounters of the Third Kind and then poured it through a theatre kid filter?” Some folks found that off-putting, as though Wes Anderson had gone a bit too Wes Anderson for them. Others, like me, found it to be an utter delight. Such a movie was one I never pictured myself needing, yet when it was finally presented to me, I could no longer picture myself living without it.
What does this have to do with Mike Cheslik’s Hundreds of Beavers? Nothing, and yet also everything. This is not Asteroid City, nor should it be. What it is, however, is the answer to the question “What if Looney Tunes did its own take on Jeremiah Johnson and then poured it through a silent movie filter?” I’m not sure who – outside of those who made it – asked for this movie. But I’m glad they did, because for the second time this year, I have been gifted an absolutely lunatic slice of cinema that I never knew I desperately needed.
Not everyone is built to appreciate a movie where a buffoon wanders around a cartoonish wilderness landscape full of animals that are portrayed either by people in mascot suits or puppets. Similarly, not everyone is built to appreciate such lunacy when it feels like it was made by mad scientists who Frankenstein’d together a plushy beast composed of parts from Chuck Jones, Tex Avery, Buster Keaton, Terry Gilliam, and the Keystone Cops. This is darkly violent, yet deeply comedic work that blends a love for classic cartoons and early cinema history together into an inspired near-masterpiece of a film. I say near only because it becomes a bit too indulgent during some of its lengthier set pieces, causing the pace to sag a bit at times. Well, that and maybe utilizing an anvil at some point would have also been nice!
Hundreds of Beavers is a gift. It’s one that some might want to return, but by God Bugs Bunny, it’s one that just as many are bound to cherish for the rest of their lives. This lunatic included.
by Daniel Baldwin
Rock music and horror have always gone together like peanut butter and jelly. Given that both are considered outsider artforms, it’s just a natural pairing. After all, rock (and metal or punk) music tends to be aggressive and there is no genre of film more aggressive than horror. Even action cinema tends to be less brutal.
Comedy is another genre that fits well with both horror and rock. Both artforms love to roll about in camp on occasion, cutting loose with over-the-top subject matter and black humor. Murder Ballads knows all of this and revels in it, while also mixing doses of British crime into the mix as well. What results is an offbeat concoction that feels like someone dumped elements of ‘90s slacker comedies, music biopics, and ‘90s crime comedies into a blender. The trappings are lo-fi due to its indie budget, but the throwback sentiments remain intact.
The story follows a struggling British rock band in desperate need of a new image – including a new member – and a new hit song. If they cannot swing either one, their label is going to give them the boot. Desperate times call for desperate measures and those desperate measures end up involving theft, deception, and murder, among other things. If that weren’t enough, most of the band members also happen to be morons. Given that morons are prone to making mistakes and mistakes are the last thing one should be making when committing crimes, well, you can see why things inevitably get out of control.
Writer/director Mitchell Tolliday has crafted a fun little film here about the darkly comedic and supremely chaotic rise and fall of a British rock ‘n’ roll band. The performances are pitched properly to the film’s playful tone, the faux documentary cutaways to actor Simon Callow are amusing, and the segues between sections are cute and inventive. Aside from some occasional pacing issues, this is a fun time.
