The ALL-CANUCK hits keep-a-comin' during the 2016 Canadian Film Fest (CFF) at Toronto's Royal Theatre. Cleanse thine palates of the disgraceful wins for fake, non-Canadian co-productions at the 2016 Canadian Film Awards and the fact that Telefilm Canada and a whole lot of government agencies made the taxpayer-financed investments in the non-Canadian co-pros in the first place. Here's a brief look at three more fine ALL-CANADIAN feature films during the 10th anniversary of the CFF: an adult-diaper-required original horror film, an early-Neil-LaBute-like macho masticator and a sniggering Canuckian sex-rom-com in the grand tradition of 70s Brit-sex-coms. All three reviewed below.
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Ads/Posters for first-person POV zombie picture
need to take a cue from MGM in 1947. |
Dead Rush (2016)
Dir. Zachary Ramelan
Scr. Gavin Michael Booth, Raven Cousens, Zachary Ramelan
Starring: David Michael Moote, Raven Cousens, Timothy Paul McCarthy,
Charlie Hamilton, Caleigh Le Grand, Rich Piatkowski, Austin Duffy
Review By Greg Klymkiw
If your conspiracy theorist Dad constantly calls you to check outlandish stuff online, sometimes it might actually be a good idea
not to blow the old bugger off. Such is the mistake made by David (David Michael Moote) whilst boinking his mouthwateringly scrumptious and gorgeously BBW-preggers wifey Megan (Raven Cousens).
As David continues to dip the wick fantastic into the soft, warm beeswax colander of quim, Pater Dearest (Timothy Paul McCarthy) is begging his sonny boy to watch a conspiracy video that's just breaking on the worldwide web. Our couple, however, have more important things to do in their cozy boudoir. One can't really blame them since they are in mid-hump and have not been privy to the shocking (and clever wraparound) preamble to
Dead Rush which tips us off to the horrors about to follow.
And damn, horror almost immediately follows the coital gymnastics with a vengeance.
There is, you see, an infection. Horror movie fans understand this word all too well. Infection means one thing and one thing only: there will be zombies knocking their pus-cushioned knuckles upon your door to gain entry and eat your ass good (and I don't mean a pleasurable rim job, here).
Sheer terror explodes and we follow our protagonists, including David's loyal bro-mantic partner Wayne (Charlie Hamilton) on a journey into survival hell, eventually hooking up with a motley crew of well-armed evangelists led by crazed TV preacher, the most Reverend Patrick Rock (Rich Piatkowski) and a stunningly hot kick-ass babe (Caleigh Le Grand). The scares are relentless and the violence mounts exponentially, all resulting in an eventual shocker of a climax.
We've all seen horror movies like this before, but what separates
Dead Rush from the pack is the solid writing (tersely appropriate dialogue, decent swathes of character detail), first-rate performances across the board, astonishingly effective cinematography by ace Canuck camera maestro Karl (
The Hexecutioners) Janisse, who utilizes a variety of imaginative neo-realist lighting touches and smartly composed herky-jerky shots, all of which go a long way to dishing out first-rate footage for director-editor Ramelan to edit with appropriate ramrod aplomb.
All this and then some is, of course, to the good, but I've yet to mention the most wonderful slice of originality to infuse the picture.
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The first fully first-person POV picture in movie history
and still the most utterly insane
(though DEAD RUSH is a pretty close second). |
In 1947, two legendary film noir pictures made motion picture history.
In Delmer Daves's
Dark Passage, we never see Humphrey Bogart's face until his character has successfully undergone plastic surgery. Until the point where the bandages come off, we see the action of the gritty noir crime drama via first-person point-of-view. For me this is the most successful
partial use of the technique amongst the films which subsequently employed it.
However, the most completely, utterly and
clearly insane use of first-person POV is Robert Montgomery's film adaptation of Raymond Chandler's novel
Lady in the Lake. MGM's brilliant ad campaign stressed star-director Montgomery's desire for audiences to experience the story
completely immersed in it through the eyes of private dick Philip Marlowe.
Only occasional glimpses of Montgomery occur via mirrors - the rest of the time we see the endless shot-glasses of rotgut headed towards the camera lens to be ingested via Marlowe's thirsty maw and, just as often, Marlowe's hands opening doors, holding guns and his tight closed-fist cold-cocking of bad guys. And, of course, as the ads proclaimed:
YOU and Robert Montgomery solve a mystery together. Best of all, there's no real reason to do this other than the fact that it's cool (something shared by Ramelan's zombie extravaganza).
Well, fast-forward six decades later.
Dead Rush presents a slight variation upon MGM's come-hither ad copy, inviting
YOU to split a zombie's skull open with an axe. Indeed, welcome to the 21st Century and feel free to thoroughly enjoy this deliciously fresh take on the zombie genre that puts YOU in the post-apocalyptic persona of a leading man attempting to avoid the non-pearly-white teeth of a zombie, a few centimetres away from tearing off his face.
Needless to say (but I will anyway), Ramelan's picture is a compulsive, propulsive, sickeningly scary and darkly hilarious roller coaster ride infused with genuine filmmaking bravado and originality. You don't actually see that everyday - most certainly not in expensive studio genre efforts. Thank God for indie no-budget Canucks!
THE FILM CORNER RATING: **** 4-Stars
Dead Rush enjoyed its World Premiere at the 2016 Canadian Film Fest (CFF).
Dir. Cody Campanale
This grim, powerful slice-of-life exploration of male bonding and misogyny is the best feature film of its kind since 1997's
and is, in fact, far more aesthetically whole and bereft of the quick, easy moralistic turns taken in Neil LaBute's foray into manly meanness. Though it lacks LaBute's satirically-edged humour, this is not a problem at all since writer-director Cody Campanale is clearly burrowed into the kitchen sink realism of mannish hatreds (not unlike films from the 60's British New Wave such as
Here we find three layabout buddies in their late 20s, living aimlessly in the dreary post-war suburbs of Hamilton. The group's Alpha-Male is Jack (Alino Giraldi), the strikingly handsome and sexy cocksman who lives in a morass of drugs, booze and one night stands in the clubs. After finding out that one of his female conquests has a boyfriend, he snaps a bunch of nude provocative photos of her and uploads them to social media, just to humiliate her and brag to his buddies about how badass he was. Kal (Edward Charette) might even harbour deeper feelings of hatred towards women and we get considerable clues that he is, in fact, repressing his homosexuality. Tony (Andrew Di Rosa) is a major loser with a hot life partner who puts up with his general untidiness, unemployment and increasing weight gain, but she's near the end of her charitable rope.
These men are pigs. They have no redeeming qualities whatsoever. This is a good thing. Campanale seeks not to explain away their behaviour, nor does he attempt to falsely attribute positive aspects to their foul personae. Watching the film is uncanny - sickeningly so. I know these men and even recognize (to my shame) bits and pieces of myself. Campanale's sense of observation is masterly and he's offered considerable support to this end from his cast, cinematographer and an outstanding score.
However, watching these guys be pigs for a whole film would be too much and Campanale's deft screenplay realistically provides a spanner in the works. Jack meets Jasmine (Sharon Coulter), a smart, funny and unbelievably sexy young woman who refuses to succumb to his bullshit. This makes him want her even more - so much so, that the unthinkable happens and he begins to fall in love with her. Having normal feelings for a woman pisses off his buds mightily and the film creepily edges to a shocking climax.
Unfortunately, I wish Campanale had trusted in the inevitability of the story's actions and had not succumbed to working a "surprise" sub-plot in to deflect attention away from the said (and sad) inevitability. It's the one false note in a movie that is refreshingly without them (and keeps the picture from attaining masterpiece potential). Still, it's a terrific film and to its undying credit that this one glaring flaw doesn't keep the movie from sinking too deeply into a quagmire of disappointment.
is the real thing. So is its director.
