EJECTA - Greg Klymkiw Interviews Co-Director Matt Wiele, PLUS links to Klymkiw's reviews of Ejecta and his interview with screenwriter Tony Burgess - COUNTDOWN TO TADFF 2015

My countdown to the 2015 Toronto After Dark Film Festival (TADFF 2015) will feature a variety of pieces on great genre work in the tradition of this terrific film festival which occurs in Toronto, Canada, Oct. 15-23, 2015. Let this countdown serve as a buffet of delectably exotic appetizers before the Big Meal Deal of my festival coverage.

COUNTDOWN TO TADFF 15 #1 is in honour of Anchor Bay Entertainment Canada's recent DVD release of the Foresight Features/Raven Banner presentation of EJECTA. Here's Greg Klymkiw's interview with co-director Matt Wiele, followed by links to reviews of the film and an interview with screenwriter Tony Burgess at the cool UK online mag, "Electric Sheep". You'll also find a few links to related materials throughout the piece - just don't click on the fuckers until you finish this Klymkiw-Wiele conversational reverie.

Interview with Matt Wiele, co-director of EJECTA
By Greg Klymkiw

GREG KLYMKIW: I love this movie so much. I've been following UFO reports for two decades (shortwave weirdness, Art Bell, George Noory, Chris Rutkowski from Manitoba, etc.). [Screenwriter Tony] Burgess told me he essentially wrote to order for you guys on this idea. So, where, how and why did you guys come up for the idea of this film? Did your inspirations come from all the "semi" legit UFO stuff? Or, perhaps, even the popular academic stuff in those great books by the astro-physicist Michio Kaku and his thoughts on parallel universe, multi-dimensional theories, etc?

MATT WIELE: Thanks for the love! Your review that came out during Fantasia [2014 International Film Festival in Montreal] was my favourite and I'm not just blowing smoke up your ass.

GK: I'm not partial to receiving many things up my ass, least of all lightbulbs and gerbils, but I will take all the smoke up there that I can get.

MW: It was just so great to read how well you got what we were trying to do with Ejecta.

GK: Some might call me a sick fuck, but I take UFO and alien stuff pretty seriously. Speaking of sick-fucks, let's hear about Burgess and your influences, etc.

MW: Both the idea and working with Tony Burgess came in a series of folds, first from the intent to make a very tense, fast and fucking scary found footage film. It evolved from there to include a larger wrap-around story about the whole institutional side of the unknown. For me the inspiration was simple in its truest form, which was, if I could think of situations in life that would scare the vomit out of me, like full-on puke-my-guts-out chunk blowing terror, it would be getting chased by an alien in the woods.

GK: Given that I believe in the fuckers, I can't say I'd disagree with you.

MW: Pure and simple. Complete and utter terror. Though actually it is complex, considering we're talking about aliens being real. The universe as a whole is just way too big for my tiny mind to comprehend so I have, and will forever be dumbfounded by all of it. Because of this I tried to keep the idea simple.

GK: Simple is always best. It's the things that yields the layers. So, what's the simple pitch?

MW: A crazy conspiracy blogger [played by Julian Richings], claims to have been mentally-invaded by aliens for the last 40 years. In an addled state, he asks a young videographer {Adam Seybold] to come and meet him to tell his story on-camera. That night a small spaceship crashes nearby and the two guys get mega-terrorized. The wrap-around to this involves a creepy, kick-ass Black-Ops military babe [Lisa Houle] who overseas a series of horrific experiments upon the crazy blogger.

GK: What I love about Foresight Features and Blackfawn Films [the visionary rurally-based Canadian production companies that co-produced Ejecta] is that the work is rooted in the country livin' - or at least, not fucking Toronto. These are locales both companies hang their shingles in. To what extent do you feel this has informed Ejecta? Do you guys naturally look to the skies in the Guelph/Collingwood areas? I ask out of personal experience. I confess, living way north on the Bruce Peninsula for most of my existence, I do. Do you feel there is something about the rural "psyche" which allows more openness to notions of ET life and visitation? To what extent, if any, do you think this informed the project?

MW: Like I said before, I find great comfort or understanding from simplification and for me it boils down to the fact that when you're in a city with millions of people, buildings and endless sensory stimuli, it's far easier to be distracted by what surrounds you on the human level instead of what surrounds you on a cosmic level. In the rural setting, especially dare I say "out in the country" where there are no street lights, and the only illumination at night comes from the moon and the stars it's essentially impossible to ignore. Just like you experience up on the Bruce the skies are fucking big out here. That isolation also plays perfectly into horror and sci-fi tropes. Whether it's two guys out in the woods being chased by an alien, a group of kids out at a cabin in the woods being terrorized by a slasher character, or even humans lost in space, it all stems from some form of isolation when terror strikes. I find myself getting into a trance at times just staring out at the sky while my brain shuts down trying to process. With that isolation and opportunity to sit and stare I think there is a more accepting thought of "what the fuck is out there?"

GK: The idea of the aliens creating what is, essentially, a fucking living room in Julian Riching's mind to hold their ET kaffeeklatches got me soooooo hard. The fuck, you guys? Where'd this sickness come from? Did you ever consider shooting these alien get-togethers in some perverse literal construct of Julian's brain? If so, were there, like, armchairs with doilies and coffee tables and shit like that? If this never entered yours and/or Tony's diseased minds, is it, or something similar to it, a possibility for a prequel/sequel?

MW: [Laughs uproariously. Perhaps too uproariously.] That's amazing. That "living room" in Julian's mind was, naturally, all Burgess. Tony has such an amazing ability to not fall into the standard or obvious story paths - duh - and he thought it would be interesting to set it up as if these things would probe or experiment with Julian mentally and not in the way we're used to seeing wherein aliens would abduct him and poke his asshole looking for human answers. Further to that, I always had a strong mental image of Julian's character performing a crude autopsy on a table in his shed with just a simple hanging light over top as he was poking and prodding this thing, so we tried to flip a typical dynamic between man and alien on its head. As far as having shots of the aliens in cardigans playing cribbage in Julian's head, we didn't think to roll with that, but now that you mention it...

GK: How much pull [booze] is consumed when you guys work with Tony? How does pull contribute to the early stages of the creative process? Would you ever consider having creative meetings up north here with Ma Pincock and her boys so you could create with her magnificent home brew whilst cavorting with her hideously deformed lads? [For further insights into this statement, read my interview HERE with Tony Burgess on the Foresight film entitled Hellmouth - scroll down to the section entitled "PULL, MEAT DRAW and PINCOCKS".]

MW: The pull had become quite customary when gathering with Tony. For those unfamiliar with the term, "pull" refers to single malt scotch, typically amongst 12-15 year old lads, often of the Highland variety. We use pull more as a reward than a constant for the creative process. Often it would go that we would get the wheels turning at a nice pace on the creative side of things before introducing our first sips. As Burgess has coined, "earn the pull". Due to some lifestyle changes the pull has been put on hold so despite the generous offering, I would have to respectfully decline the homebrew, at least for now. Maybe on the next film however.

GK: It seems obvious to me how you two directed Ejecta. [I refer here to co-directors Wiele and Chad Archibald, the latter of the pair having bailed on the dubious opportunity to talk to me, in spite of the fact that I cascaded huge wads of critical semen upon his new film BITE, which you can read HERE.] You see, Ejecta has two concurrent narrative/stylistic movements, so for me, it makes sense without even knowing the facts. Would you like to talk about the creative collaboration in terms of the planning of and shooting of the film itself? It'll be fun hearing from you separately on this. Here you'll have a shot at trashing Archibald if desired.

MW: One thing I've learned about Mr. Chad Archibald is that he is immune to being trashed as it's simply impossible to do so to such a good man. [Oops! Maybe y'all need to read my decimating Klymkiw-special review of Archibald's The Drownsman HERE.] Working together in a variety of roles across this film, as well as on Hellmouth and Septic Man, I formed a strong bond and respect for his work ethic and wealth of talents. It was damn interesting and exciting working together on this as I took the reins at the start with the POV style shoot, getting the first chunk of production done and then moved into full time producing as Chad directed the second production. It was an incredible lesson in creativity and adaptability to make this film come together the way it did. Collaboration was king throughout as it always should be in independent film. Without your army around you it's damn near impossible to make anything in this industry.

GK: Was Julian Richings always a part of the equation, even in the earliest stages of creating the film? He's probably one of the world's greatest character actors. How do you work with him? What's his process as an actor and how do you mesh with it, encourage it, repress it, etc.?

MW: Yes, Julian was always part of the equation and an actor we've wanted to work with for years. He's a tremendous talent and even more, a tremendous human being. Initially I had a few phone calls with him and set up a table read for the second-to-last-draft of the script along with Adam Seybold, Tony Burgess and myself. From there it was final refinements based on everyone's notes and then, off to the races. I think we meshed very well as I had full confidence in Julian, obviously, and he, in turn, was incredibly confident in me, which, being a first time director was key. What I loved most about working with him, aside from always making my job much easier thanks to his talents, was that he always had great insights and offerings for the character and the specific scenes. This was especially true when it came to the found footage stuff, where blocking the scene was incredibly important and finding the marks not just physically, but also from a story and dialogue standpoint, was incredibly vital. Julian is a trooper and his dedication to his performance and the team is humbling.

GK: The movie is fucking scary on a number of levels. How do you specifically infuse those things that scare you into the film?

MW: I tried to keep the tension of what scares the shit out of me as a central pulse to the POV footage and characters. I think it's like directing in a manner that's similar to how actors try to call on personal experiences, to put themselves into the right space for their characters' emotions. I think we have to do that as directors.

GK: You and Archibald must both have distinctive voices as filmmakers. How aware are each of you in terms of your respective personal stamps? How do these mesh and/or positively repel each other throughout the entire process of making the film?

MW: I've been the producer on six features, but have only directed one, so I think my voice hasn't been fully established. Hopefully I can direct more projects in the future and start shaping the concept of who I am as a filmmaker, but right now my focus was pace, action and scares. I think Chad has an incredible voice in the Indie horror community and his stamp is obvious in terms of production quality, execution and originality. I'd say his voice was essential in making this film shape up the way it did and in such a creative way after filming the original content. I think for both of us keeping things positive and enjoyable for everyone on-set is key. This is especially important when adversity hits, the cold creeps in or a gag isn't working exactly how you envisioned it. It's key to have the positive propel you through the challenges you'll get hit with every single day on set.

GK: In terms of post-production, the end result feels like you both had definite ideas about the coverage you needed in order to play with it fruitfully in the cutting room. Were there any surprises post-shoot which informed the final product? If so, what were they?

MW: This film was an interesting beast to cut together. Initially we had all envisioned a linear timeline for the story but after a rough assembly we felt we needed to ramp up the pace and tension, sticking with the intent to always aim to create something great. I took on a lot of the final editing duties as Chad was working away on his next feature and after a ton of insight from fellow filmmakers and Foresight Features producers, Jesse Cook and John Geddes, we went with the multiple timelines colliding and that really made the thing sing. It kept the audience guessing, the pace and tension high and demanded a lot of the viewer. I found editing this film to be one the most challenging and rewarding times in my career. It was both a demon and a delight.

GK: Did you guys ever consider having more babes in the movie?

MW: Indeed we did. It's always a discussion that comes up when planning a film and story. However, we try not to get hung up on "this story needs X females, Y males, Z races". We just let it happen naturally. Specifically to the central female character Tobin, Tony was absolutely set on her being a hard-ass, and ultimately, completely crazy. Lisa [Houle] did a great job pulling off that wildness.

GK: Did either of you indulge any of your fetishes with respect to the film and the finished product? If so, would you mind elaborating? I guess what I'm referring to here is how most genre directors including greats like Hitchcock and DePalma barf-up their fetishes all over their films.

MW: Originally there was going to be a death scene involving the alien absorbing Julian by way of his skin, which when we started filming it kinda looked like they were fucking, so we turfed it. Also, I've never really had a "fucking an alien fetish", other than the gal with three boobs in Total Recall, of course.

GK: Of course!

Ejecta is on DVD via Anchor Bay Entertainment Canada

AND NOW, HERE'S A WHOLE LOT MORE TO READ ABOUT EJECTA:

Click HERE to read my original Fantasia Festival review of EJECTA

Click HERE to read my DVD review of EJECTA at Electric Sheep

Click HERE to read my INTERVIEW with Tony Burgess on EJECTA at Electric Sheep

HELLMOUTH - Interview twixt Greg Klymkiw andScreenwriter-Extraordinaire Tony Burgess AND a BLU-RAY/DVD Review byGreg Klymkiw of the Raven Banner presentation of the Anchor BayEntertainment Canada release of the John Geddes film HELLMOUTH

INTERVIEW

twixt GREG KLYMKIW and

HELLMOUTH writer TONY BURGESS

PREFACE:

Foresight Features, an independent south-western Ontario film production company headed by Jesse T. Cook, John Geddes and Matthew Wiele has, in a few short years, ascended to the throne of genre film supremacy in the land of beaver, maple syrup and Prime Minister Stephen Harper, the leader of Canada's Nazi Party. These three 30-year-old gents who love horror movies as much, if not more than life itself, have an unholy alliance as filmmakers with writer Tony Burgess. Foresight's three latest insanely imaginative and scary genre pictures have tantalized genre fans the world over during the course of a short year-and-a-half period.

Hellmouth, Septic Man and Ejecta, all spring from the diseased brain of Tony Burgess, one of Canada’s most celebrated science fiction and horror novelists and screenwriters. He also wrote the source material and screenplay for Bruce McDonald's scary-ass Pontypool.

The last time Mr. Burgess and I met was to discuss Ejecta.

Now, the matter at hand is Hellmouth.

PULL, MEAT DRAW and PINCOCKS

During our Ejecta chat, my fantasia included Burgess treating me to some fine pull from a still near Collingwood when I went down to the ass-end of the Bruce Peninsula to meet with him in Stayner. Pull is, of course, the key ingredient in the creative collaborative process between Burgess, Cook, Geddes and Wiele. This time, my deepest imaginings, spurred on by my frequent semi-comatose blood sugar crashes, have me suggesting that Tony haul hissef the fuck up to the northern-most tip of the Bruce where I hang my shingles. I want Burgess to have a taste of some great pull from these parts, but to also join me at the Meat Draw in our local Royal Canadian Legion. Burgess would, in this hallucinatory miasma within my cerebral cortex, query me on the matter and I would explain thusly:

"We purchase several raffle tickets at $1.00 per ticket. We want to get to the draw at least two hours in advance and space the ticket purchases out prior to the drawing of the lucky numbers. This allows for a decent spread of lucky numbers, ensuring at least one win and ideally, more than one."

Here Burgess will require clarification to the following query. Are we doing the interview sometime within this two hour period prior to the draw at the Legion or will we be saving it for when we visit Ma Pincock and her boys for some pull in the bush? I would, of course, affirm that pre-meat-draw was indeed a good time to do the interview as we'd be able to consume vast quantities of cheap Rye in the company of malcontent veterans who'd quietly gaze into whatever jar of liquor sat before them and mutter: "Well, what can you do?" This fantasia of mine also has Tony holding a barbecue the next day and wondering if he'll be able to win what he needs instead of having to buy it, wherein I'd explain:

"Spread upon the pool tables will be a wide array of meats - everything from prime rib roasts to a package of wieners, and in between there will be steaks and briskets of every imaginable grade and cut. Sometimes there will even be exotic fare like headcheese, tongue, hoof and all manner of juicy viscous innards. The animal of choice is cow, but there will, on occasion be pig, lamb, buffalo, horse, black bear, deer, peacock, emu and chicken. We will have, during the preceding two hours, an opportunity to peruse the offerings and make detailed lists of our favourites in the order which best reflects our individual and/or collective meatly desires. Ideally, we want our lucky number to be called as early in the proceedings as possible. It will allow us first pickins from the pool tables. Most people in this hallowed spot will immediately snatch up the prime rib roast. As the numbers are called, the most prime choices are secured by the happy winners until all that's left are the dregs. As for the pull, it's gonna follow in the bush with the Pincock brothers and their Ma who works the still and generates the mother's milk from a very old family recipe. Ma is practically a Rhodes Scholar of shine preparation, but the boys weren't blessed with her smarts."

I'll mention that we'll meet the boys at the Meat Draw because they purchase their tickets as a team quite early-on in the proceedings. "Don't sweat it," I can assure Tony. "We usually breathe a sigh of relief when the Pincocks are selected early on. They're not going to choose any prime rib or steaks. They always go for the fucking wieners."

I furthermore recount an especially salient example of the Pincock brothers' collective lack of grey matter. One time, during a job burning off a huge pile of brush, they decide not to wait for a raging wind storm to die down. During the gale force tempest, Curly, the eldest Pincock brother, gets a might impatient as he's right afeared they'll be late for the Meat Draw. Fetching a plastic milk jug full of gasoline from the back of their half ton, Curly pops the cap to toss a spray of fuel in the direction of the smouldering fire just as a huge breeze blows in his direction. As the first splashes of gasoline hit the fire, the wind carries a blast of flame back into Curly's face. Grasping the still-half-full plastic milk carton of gasoline, it explodes in his hands. Whilst his younger brothers, Enoch and Harold also go up in flames, Curly gets it the worst, running back to the half-ton, burning to a crisp and screaming - not an especially good idea as there were several milk jugs full of gasoline in the back of the pickup, a full tank of gas in the truck itself and several barrels of Ma Pincock's fine home brew.

As Tony will, no doubt, beg me to stop, I add, "Have I mentioned the box of dynamite in the back of their half-ton? The Pincock boys use it when they go fishing as it's much easier to set charges in hand-crafted waterproof containers that explode in the clear blue of Lake Huron, allowing for hundreds of stunned fish to float to the surface, so the Pincocks can just handily scoop them up into their boat." I add gravely, "It's a miracle Curly Pincock and his brothers lived to tell the tale. We're all thankful they survived, though. Someone has to choose the package of wieners at the Meat Draw and better the Pincocks than any of us. Besides, their inbreeding guarantees their early departure from the Legion once they win so as they can hit the backwoods for a weenie-roast. And you know what? If the Pincocks win tonight, we'll settle in with those boys in the bush, guzzle back Ma's pull and maybe even have some hot dogs with 'em."

THE INTERVIEW

Klymkiw: Hellmouth is replete with cool graveyards. One of my favourites was this old graveyard south of Winnipeg where tucked in a little grove behind an abandoned church was a kiddie graveyard with weathered headstones that had stone carvings of lambs and pudgy babies with wings. What is your favourite graveyard and why?

Burgess: There's a graveyard on a little dirt road hidden on Rainbow Valley Road north of Edenvale. Tiny white church, more of a shack on the grounds. It is maintained by the Clearview gravedigger known locally as Crackerjack. I had to do an author photo for an article in The Walrus [Magazine] so i got Crackerjack to find me a freshly dug grave to stand in. He obliged.

Where the fuck did the idea of Hellmouth come from?

Now that's a good question. It's not really an idea - more like a bizarre wishlist that director John Geddes asked me to realize. He had very specific story elements and environs that looked at first like an angry clog of random irreconcilables. I was quickly charmed by his conviction and so executed, to the best of my ability, his peculiar vision. John approaches story quite unlike anyone...wide and passionate, without cynicism or irony, but self aware - he often mentioned Ed Wood, not as a joke we could make, but as a film maker with no distance from his own material - Ed Wood as a way of believing in things. It felt to me like we could make something original and truly outsider.

I loved Ed Wood's movies as a kid. Even then they seemed distinctive to me. When people started making fun of him the the 80s, it kind of pissed me off. Can you describe the writing process on Hellmouth?

It involved a lot of cognitive dissonance and pure story telling - a bit like a tunnel vision - which fit perfectly with John's idea of a parallel world made of whole plastic. Everything behaves in a figurative landscape, a busy meaning-making sketch, that reaches in an authentic way to an honest nothing.

Was pull involved in the creative process?

Always.

Does evil seek out those who are lonely or is evil a natural manifestation born out of loneliness?

I have no idea.

Sorry for the eggheadedness, but Stephen McHattie's character in Hellmouth is alone, lonely and eventually he's facing hell. In Taxi Driver, Travis says: "Loneliness has followed me my whole life. I'm God's lonely man." For some reason I could not get this out of my head while watching Hellmouth. Why? Is that MY sick shit or yours or a combination of the two?

Well, this is as much [director] John Geddes as me or you. He was looking at Richard Matheson and one of the great films about isolation - The Incredible Shrinking Man. There was an experience we were chasing: not so much the films of Ed Wood, Richard Matheson or Hitchcock, but the person watching them. In the middle of a Saturday afternoon or the wee hours of Sunday morning, the viewer is alone and completely open, perhaps not even knowing the name of the film. When it reaches out to say something or do something, the lone viewer experiences a kind of belief they couldn't have acheived sitting beside someone. It falls outside. It is a movie you started watching half way through and maybe you fall asleep before the end, but for the rest of your life it has this unprocessed life in your memory. If it meant anything it was probably that it was real, like a dream is, and you didn't see it - it happened to you.

What was it like collaborating with Geddes? How does he differ from the other Foresight sickos?

They are all different and very respectful of that. The most striking thing about making Hellmouth was the way John lived the post production day and night. An ENORMOUS amount of work went into how it looks. John had to become a religious madman for two years. I mean, no one has made a film in the way this one was made, and no one ever will again. Ever.

I loved the weird-ass cool look of Hellmouth - dare I say it? Post-modern? Is this something that was part of the writing or is it strictly the sick shit of Geddes in translating your words to the screen?

We had the look in mind from the beginning. Early on I was trying to gauge how far I could go with the visuals and there was simply no limit. Can I have a demon lick the door open? Yep. Can we giant hellmouth swallow Julian Richings? Yep. And on and on. We watched lots of films to get a sense of how this would look and really, it was about using CG effects as if they were cheap practicals from Ed Wood's studio backlot.

I love being plunged into a world of horror that is hugely influenced by the post-war ennui of film noir. Was this a conscious approach on your part?

Oh yes, absolutely. That and shamed, smudgy modernism, and its loss of noise.

Stephen McHattie. How present was his visage and bountiful talents in your mind during the writing of the screenplay?

Oh he was always there, for sure. In fact, when we were trying to figure out how to construct the Barda at the end (CG? Big latex? A robot? An actor?) Stephen said `lemme me do it' and he was amazing, injecting a whole other layer of smoke to the story. Stephen has the incredible ability to occupy illogical spaces between what should make sense.

The gaping maw of hell as envisaged in medieval art and literature seems a natural bedfellow for the kind of ennui that plagues McHattie's character and the world of the film. Why? Is this a natural bedfellow for you? For all of us?

I have always loved the Hellmouth. Especially as a big creaking stage machine on the Elizabethan stage. So heavy and noisy for a figure. The hellmouth as stage prop is the perfect object for what we were doing: the thereness of practical effects combined with the not thereness of generated image.

I can envisage franchise potential for all the stuff you write for Foresight. Further exploration of the Septic Man, Richings in Ejecta and McHattie in Hellmouth, all seems natural to me. Any thoughts or discussion with you and Foresight on this?

We have talked about that, yes. In fact, me and Ari Millen wanna make a TV show based on our characters [from Hellmouth] Harry and Tips. Kinda Lenny and Squiggy as directed by Buster Keaton.

Shit, the Pincock Boys are here. Let's go look at the meat with them. I'll introduce you.

Sounds good.

HELLMOUTH - THE REVIEW

Stephen McHattie, a babe-o-licious ghost,
creepy graveyards, the jaws of hell itself,
Bruce McDonald & Julian Richings in tow,
plus super-cool retro imagery fill the drawers of
HELLMOUTH

Hellmouth (2014)
Dir. John Geddes
Scr. Tony Burgess
Starring: Stephen McHattie, Siobhan Murphy, Boyd Banks,
Julian Richings, Bruce McDonald, Ari Millen, Tony Burgess

Review By Greg Klymkiw

To both the living and perhaps even the dead, old graveyards are as comforting as they are creepy. Screenwriter Tony Burgess seems to understand this better than most and with Hellmouth, he's crafted one of the most deliciously insane horror treats of the new millennium. Superbly and imaginatively directed by John Geddes and delivered to us by Foresight Features, the visionary company of (mad)men from Collingwood, Ontario, this is a first-rate mind-penetrator designed to plunge us deeply into the hallucinogenic properties inherent in Hell itself.

When I was a kid (who'd not grown out of childhood) during the late 70s and early 80s, I programmed a movie theatre devoted almost exclusively to cult and genre films and Hellmouth is exactly the kind of picture I'd have been playing during midnight shows in the 70-year-old 600-seat former-neighbourhood-cinema-turned-Porn-emporium-turned-arthouse in the wasted-west-end of Winnipeg (just round the corner from famed cult director Guy Maddin's boyhood home and his Aunt Lil's beauty salon which eventually became the studio for his first bonafide hit film, Tales from the Gimli Hospital). It's this very personal observation which proves to me, beyond a shadow of any doubt, just how universal Hellmouth is. The narrative is rooted in a strange amalgam of 40s film noir and the controversial early-to-mid-50s William Gaines period of the late-lamented and utterly demented E.C. Comics. In this sense, the madness that is Hellmouth has yielded a classic horror movie for now and forever.

And lemme tell ya, this ain't nothing to sneeze globs of bloodied snot at.

Charlie Baker (Stephen McHattie) is a tired, old grave-keeper living out his last days before retirement in a long-forgotten graveyard still maintained by a rural municipality with a certain pride in its historical legacy. As the film progresses, however, the legacy goes well beyond its commemorative value. Mr. Whinny (Boyd Banks) is a slimy, local bureaucrat who demands Charlie curtail his retirement plans to preside over an even older graveyard a few miles away. Charlie reminds Whinny that his own days are numbered due to a rare, degenerative brain disease, but the cruel, taunting administrator will have none of it and threatens to fire Charlie if he doesn't do his bidding (and thus flushing the retirement package down the toilet). Bureaucrats are just like that, especially if they work for Satan.

Alas, poor Charlie has little choice in the matter and is forced to make an odyssey across the dark and stormy landscape of this rectum-of-the-world township where he meets the mysterious babe-o-licious Faye (Siobhan Murphy). Swathed in form-fitting white, dark shades and blood-red lipstick, Faye hooks Charlie immediately into her plight and he becomes the unlikeliest knight in shining armour.

Grave-keeper Charlie Baker will, you see, soon do battle with a formidable foe at the very jaws of Hell itself.

Burgess's writing here is not only infused with imagination, but the archetypal characters, hard-boiled dialogue and unexpected turns taken by the tale create a solid coat hanger upon which director Geddes can display the stylish adornments of cool retro-visuals as well as all the eye-popping special visual effects splattering across the screen like so many ocular taste buds.

The mise-en-scene is not unlike the Frank Miller/Robert Rodriguez approach to the world of Sin City, but here, the rich monochrome, dappled occasionally with garish colours, seems even more suited to the genre of horror rather than neo-noir. Geddes guides his superb cast through the minefields of a gothic nightmare with the assured hand of a master, eliciting performances that play the more lurid properties of the characters blessedly straight (McHattie, Banks and Murphy), thus allowing occasional explosions of over-the-top, though never tongue-in-cheek thespian gymnastics from Julian Richings and legendary director Bruce McDonald.

Crypt-Keepers and Grave-Keepers have long been a staple of horror, but usually, they're not treated as characters, but as "hosts" to deliver anthology-styled tales of terror (not unlike the classic Amicus production from the 70s such as Tales from the Crypt). As a feature film, Hellmouth gets to have its cake and eat it too. However, given that Charlie Baker is a living, breathing character, Foresight Features might actually have a property here worth revisiting - either in feature-length prequels, sequels and/or standalone "presents" tales of other grave-keepers. Better yet, there might even be a terrific continuing anthology series for the likes of Starz with Charlie involved week-to-week as an actual participant and storyteller. God knows the creative above-the-liners are more than skilled and up-to-the-challenge and Stephen McHattie, one of the best character actors in the world would be the ideal star.

Just a thought from a middle-aged old exhibitor, film buyer and movie producer . . .

Getting back to my personal rumination of those halcyon days when I programmed cult movies, it's with all respect that I reveal now that Hellmouth is the kind of picture we used to fondly refer to as a "head film". Like the work of Alejandro Jodorowsky (El Topo), Slava Tsukerman (Liquid Sky), David Lynch (Eraserhead) and so many others during the "Golden" Age of cult cinema, Hellmouth is ideal viewing for those who wish to ingest copious amounts of hallucinogens prior to and during their viewings of the film. That said, like all terrific "head films", the movie itself is plenty hallucinogenic and ultimately requires no added stimulants.

THE FILM CORNER RATING: **** 4-Stars

Hellmouth is being distributed by Anchor Bay Entertainment Canada in a gorgeously transferred DVD and BLU-RAY combo pack. The photography, sound and effects in this film are so astonishing that both formats have been worked to the outer limits of their capabilities to render a first-rate product. My only disappointment is the lack of extras on the discs, however, it does include trailers for Foresight's Septic Man and Ejecta.

GREG KLYMKIW interviews TONY BURGESS on EJECTA at ELECTRIC SHEEP MAGAZINE in UK

Greg Klymkiw and Tony Burgess
share pulls from a jug of Peninsula shine
and discuss writing, aliens and EJECTA,
the latest screenplay from the writer of
PONTYPOOL, SEPTIC MAN & HELLMOUTH
Read on by clicking HERE

EJECTA - Review By Greg Klymkiw - Solid Tony Burgess script anchors 4-site alien thriller

Time to make room for some visitors.

IF YOU
DARE DOUBT
YOU'RE
A FOOL

Ejecta (2014)
dir. Dir. Chad Archibald, Matt Wiele
Screenplay: Tony Burgess
Starring: Julian Richings, Lisa Houle, Adam Seybold

Review By Greg Klymkiw

In a world replete with eyewitness accounts detailing UFO sightings and contact with extraterrestrial (or at least, unidentified) life forms, all the stuff so many individuals and groups have testified to seeing and/or feeling, are those which tend to be discounted by ascribing said testimonials to mental illness. Though I have no doubt that many such experiences are indeed the bi-products of more than a few of the aforementioned folks being completely out of their respective (or collective) gourds, I still get the willies when I realize that some of them are most probably not crazy, that they've seen and experienced things I hope to never be unlucky enough to witness and/or feel.

Furthermore, I genuinely believe there's stuff out there that can never be adequately explained and probably won't be since an elite exists that's all too aware of certain realities, but keeps them veiled in secrecy for a variety of social, cultural, religious, political and economic reasons. The only people who would tend to dispute this, to doubt it beyond all that is reasonable, are those who would be quick to dismiss such notions, both genuinely and surreptitiously.

My own beliefs on this matter are not, I suspect, only due to years of tuning into very some very strange stuff on shortwave radio, eons of listening to Art Bell and George Noory on late-night talk radio and poring over as many books, articles and internet blogs on the matter as I've been able to pore over. Nay, I accept without question that some truly weird shit's going on out there (or, at the very least, I take it seriously enough to question it).

As for the poor souls who've become targets of derision for experiencing the unexplainable, it's clear they've been through something that's so cerebellum-brandingly real, so horrific, so indescribable and so nerve-shreddingly painful that they can only respond in ways that some would term as insanity. I have no doubt, however, that a goodly number of these people are not bonkers. In fact, those who absolutely refuse to believe are more likely to be the crazy ones.

Oh, and in case you're convinced that I am a few bricks short of a load on this, allow me to reveal, in defence of my sanity, that I've been mulling over the Drake Equation for several years (which, for some, might well be proof of my potentially schizophrenic nature). In any event, the equation provides an excellent basis for thought and discussion on the possibility of life existing beyond Earth and within our very own Milky Way and as such, has its fair share of champions in the scientific community. Radio Astronomer Frank Drake first came up with it in the early 60s and while it's impossible to use as a purely mathematical equation due to several unknown variables, it's still quite a brilliant series of questions to consider when searching for signs of extraterrestrial life. In fact, the Drake Equation is indeed the very foundation upon which the science of astrobiology was founded. (Feel free to do your own research on this, there's plenty of great stuff out there for further illumination.)

As well, we would be fools to ignore the wealth of historical artifacts, etchings and fossils that can certainly provide a solid bedrock to allow for a huge degree of healthy speculation that we, are not, alone, or, as expressed by the central character in the terrific film Ejecta:

"We were never alone."

All the aforementioned conundrums I've expressed tie directly and indeed form a great deal of the content of this extraordinary feature film triumph from the visionary Collingwood Crazies known to genre fans as Foresight Features. Ejecta is, without a doubt, one of the scariest science fiction horror films you're likely to see this year.

Buoyed by intense, intelligent writing from Tony Burgess (Pontypool, Septic Man) in a screenplay that induces fingernail-ripping-and-plucking (biting nails to the quick is "pussy", anyway), plus an astonishingly riveting performance by one of Canada's greatest actors Julian (Hard Core Logo, Cube, Man of Steel) Richings, Ejecta is a movie that plunges you into the terror of one utterly horrendous night in the lives of those who make contact with aliens. All of them experience a series of close encounters of the third kind, though be warned, they're as far removed from the benevolence and joy expressed in Spielberg's grandaddy classic of the genre.

There are no happy-faced hairless alien midgets gesticulating Zoltán Kodály Hand Signals whilst smiling at a beaming Francois Truffaut in Ejecta. No-siree-Spielberg, these mo-fos are super-ugly and their presence induces the sheer horror that inspires drawer-filling of the highest order. That said, Close Encounters of the Third Kind is worth noting here, because Ejecta shares one very important element with Spielberg's bonafide masterpiece.

Obsession.

Close Encounters took its title and three-act structure from a system of extraterrestrial classification as posited by the late astronomer Dr. Josef Allen Hynek – the close encounter. According to Hynek, a close encounter of the first kind is seeing unexplained phenomena, while the second kind involves hard proof of some sort of physical manifestation from what was originally witnessed and, finally, the close encounter of the third kind being contact. I'd argue that experiencing even one of these encounters would be enough to drive someone obsessively to seek subsequent levels of encounter or, in the case of Ejecta, we have three characters equally fraught with obsession. One seeks answers to stopping his pain, another will inflict pain to secure answers, while yet another brings the obsession of an artist seeking answers in his subject. And forgive me if I get all eggheaded on you here, but there is a sense of Trinity that Ejecta shares with Close Encounters - both pictures have a kind of Father, Son and Holy Spirit manifestation coursing through them and it's this level of spirituality and obsession that bind the pictures.

Close Encounters, of course, charts the journey of everyman Richard Dreyfuss who experiences the unexplained appearance of something other-worldly and abandons his life, his job, his family – everything he holds dear – to obsessively track down the meaning behind this occurrence. In a tale steeped in Judeo-Christian resonance – from Moses to Christ – Roy makes a perilous journey, climbs Devil’s Tower and comes face-to-face with the answer to his visions until he, along with twelve (trinity existing within the square root) apostolic “pilgrims” ascend to the Heavens, arms outstretched in what is surely the most benign crucifixion-image (trinity) imaginable.

This sense of spirituality is almost divine in nature and makes perfect sense considering the aforementioned Hynek’s own belief in the notion that a technology must exist which blends both the physical and psychic. Furthermore, it's important to note that Paul Schrader wrote the first pass of Close Encounters and though he didn't take a story credit (something he regretted almost as quickly as he agreed to it and more so in the years to follow), Spielberg's film feels, deep-down, like a Schrader narrative - especially the combination of obsession and spirituality.

This is an unbeatable combination that Ejecta flirts with at every turn.

The journey Burgess's screenplay takes us on begins quite evocatively with some cold, impersonal Ascii-text being typed onto a hazy computer monitor:

Tonight the universe is no bigger than my head.
It's time to make room for some visitors.

Yes, visitors indeed. William Cassidy (Julian Richings), a conspiracy theorist living off the grid in the middle of some godforsaken Ontario hinterland is inundated with unwelcome guests - a filmmaker, an interrogator and a mean-ass alien.

Joe (Adam Seybold) is the most benevolent of the three visitors Cassidy receives. This ultra-indie one-man-show documentary filmmaker believes he's been invited by Cassidy to engage in an interview. When he gets confirmation that he'll be granted an audience, he's ecstatic since Cassidy is considered the "Holy Grail" of UFO experts. Upon arriving, Cassidy seems confused as to why Joe is even there, but as things progress, we understand all too well why the wiry, jittery recluse is occasionally addled. Unlike the Richard Dreyfuss character in Close Encounters, most of Cassidy's adult life has been fraught with the obsession an alien encounter instigates. At least Dreyfuss had tangible things to lose, but poor Cassidy appears to have lost everything before he could even get a chance to amass it. What he's amassed is a life of questions, pain and endless, seemingly futile attempts to let the world know about his experience. He's lost a life he could have had. That's scary enough, but happily, the movie delivers its share of visceral chills to complement those of the philosophical variety.

We are privy to some of Joe's interview footage which reveals Cassidy's credentials in the UFO field. At first, Joe makes the mistake of referring to the alien abduction Cassidy suffered almost forty years ago, but is sternly corrected that it was not an abduction. The aliens came to Cassidy:

"They met inside my mind. I could feel them, I could hear them inside. They pretty much ignored me, but they had this meeting and then they left. They left something behind, something inside of me, and it's been there ever since. When I'm awake it hurts, but when I'm not, it floods me with these nightmares. No, no, it's not nightmares, it's not a thing, it's a feeling, it's not pain, it's not fear, it's something else, something much, much worse."

And damned if we don't believe him. This, of course, is one of the scariest things about the film. Burgess has written a character that allows Richings to invest with such intensity, that many of the creeps and shudders we get come directly from Cassidy's brilliantly scribed (via Burgess) and executed (via Richings) dialogue.

It's often been erroneously suggested in a kind of knee-jerk screenwriting 101 fashion that it's always better to show in movies than tell and those who ascribe to this strictly are too quick to dismiss the cinematic power of telling. In the case of Ejecta, so much of the film's power is in the showing of the telling and believe you me, the telling via the words Burgess provides to Richings borders on the poetic and it's these flights of fancy rooted in the unknown that not only wrench the bloody bejesus out of you but are one of the contributing factors to the film's overall achievement as a genre film that utilizes the tropes it must, but does so with the oft-neglected poetry inherent in cinema itself.

When Cassidy explains the feelings he has because of the intrusive alien presence within him, he notes in desperation, that it's "the fear of the anticipation of this feeling [which] eats away at my life." Well, Jesus H. Christ, Almighty! Hand me an extra large pair of Depends Adult Diapers because this statement and the chilling manner of its delivered was easily just as shit-my-drawers scary as a beautifully directed set piece which happens at another juncture in the film where Cassidy and Joe hide in the shed from the alien that prowls malevolently just outside.

Structurally, the film benefits from yet another trinity in the three-pronged approach to capturing the narrative of this night of horror. Firstly, there's Joe's documentary footage, then there's the perspective of the military through various helmet-cams and finally, the present-tense unfolding of Cassidy's interrogation at the hands of the malevolent Dr. Tobin (Lisa Houle). The movie skilfully bounces us throughout these perspectives, yet we seldom feel lost in the proceedings beyond the manner in which the characters themselves feel lost.

The film is co-directed by Matt Wiele and Chad Archibald and while it's difficult to ascertain the nature of the collaboration from the finished product, the bottom line is that there's a consistency to the film's overall snap, crackle and pop which renders a picture that almost always grabs you by the balls (or, if you will, vulva), squeezing, scratching, scrunching and twisting until you feel you can bear no more.

My only quibble is with certain elements of the interrogation scenes. There's an automaton quality to the military personnel which is no doubt intentional, but often feels too "play-acted" to gel with the elements in the film which seem rooted in docudrama-like reality. I was also mixed on how the blocking played out during these scenes as they seemed almost by-the-numbers plotted-out, not unlike that of series television.

Lisa Houle's performance, however, is one of the weirdest I've seen on film in a long time and that's quite a statement considering that she plays opposite Julian Richings who is eccentricity-incarnate. At first, I was not sure of her performance and thought I'd have to repress it in order to enjoy everything I loved about the picture, but it eventually grew on me because it really is so out-to-lunch. Houle delivers many of her lines with a kind of sing-song quality and at times she came across like some genetically mutated pollination twixt a happy host on children's educational programming and Ilsa, She-Wolf of the S.S.

This, ladies and gentlemen, is an achievement. My hat is off to her.

Then again, my hat is off to the entire Foresight Features team. They keep delivering the goods and Ejecta is as strange, perverse, thoughtful, scary and darkly funny as their best work has proven to be. The film also gives new meaning to the old movie tagline "Watch the Skies" because here, it's not the skies you need to watch, it's the universe implanted in your brain and goddamn, it hurts. And worst of all, you can't necessarily see it. Short of sawing the top of your skull off and gazing at your glistening brain in one of those cooking show mirrors, there's nothing to "watch".

Everything is feeling. And that, is really fucking scary.

THE FILM CORNER RATING: **** Four Stars

Ejecta is an official selection of the Blood in the Snow Film Festival 2014 at the MLT Carlton Cinema in Toronto. The film is being released by Anchor Bay Entertainment Canada.

HELLMOUTH - Review By Greg Klymkiw - World Premiere TorontoAfterDarkFilmFest2014

Stephen McHattie, a babe-o-licious ghost,
creepy graveyards, the jaws of hell itself,
Bruce McDonald & Julian Richings in tow,
plus super-cool retro imagery fill the drawers of
HELLMOUTH

Hellmouth (2014)
Dir. John Geddes
Scr. Tony Burgess
Starring: Stephen McHattie, Siobhan Murphy, Boyd Banks, Julian Richings, Bruce McDonald

Review By Greg Klymkiw

To both the living and perhaps even the dead, old graveyards are as comforting as they are creepy. Screenwriter Tony Burgess seems to understand this better than most and with Hellmouth, he's crafted one of the most deliciously insane horror treats of the new millennium. Superbly and imaginatively directed by John Geddes and delivered to us by Foresight Features, the visionary company of (mad)men from Collingwood, Ontario, this is a first-rate mind-penetrator designed to plunge us deeply into the hallucinogenic properties inherent in Hell itself.

When I was a (relative) kid in the late 70s and early 80s, I programmed a movie theatre devoted almost exclusively to cult and genre films and Hellmouth is exactly the kind of picture I'd have been playing during midnight shows in the 70-year-old 600-seat former-neighbourhood-cinema-turned-Porn-emporium-turned-arthouse in the waste-end of Winnipeg (just round the corner from famed cult director Guy Maddin's boyhood home and his Aunt Lil's beauty salon which eventually became the studio for his first bonafide hit film, Tales from the Gimli Hospital). It's this very personal observation which proves to me, beyond a shadow of any doubt, just how universal Hellmouth is. The narrative is rooted in a strange amalgam of 40s film noir and the controversial early-to-mid-50s William Gaines period of the late, lamented and utterly demented E.C. Comics. In this sense, the madness that is Hellmouth yields a classic horror movie for now and forever.

And lemme tell ya, this ain't nothing to sneeze globs of bloodied snot at.

Charlie Baker (Stephen McHattie) is a tired, old grave-keeper living out his last days before retirement in a long-forgotten graveyard still maintained by a rural municipality with a certain pride in its historical legacy. As the film progresses, however, the legacy goes well beyond its commemorative value. Mr. Whinny (Boyd Banks) is a slimy, local bureaucrat who demands Charlie curtail his retirement plans to preside over an even older graveyard a few miles away. Charlie reminds Whinny that his own days are numbered due to a rare, degenerative brain disease, but the cruel, taunting administrator will have none of it and threatens to fire Charlie if he doesn't do his bidding (and thus flushing the retirement package down the toilet). Bureaucrats are just like that, especially if they work for Satan.

Alas, poor Charlie has little choice in the matter and is forced to make an odyssey across the dark and stormy landscape of this rectum-of-the-world township where he meets the mysterious babe-o-licious Faye (Siobhan Murphy). Swathed in form-fitting white, dark shades and blood-red lipstick, Faye hooks Charlie immediately into her plight and he becomes the unlikeliest knight in shining armour.

Grave-keeper Charlie Baker will, you see, soon do battle with a formidable foe at the very jaws of Hell itself.

Burgess's writing here is not only infused with imagination, but the archetypal characters, hard-boiled dialogue and unexpected turns taken by the tale create a solid coat hanger upon which director Geddes can display the stylish adornments of cool retro-visuals as well as all the eye-popping special visual effects splattering across the screen like so many ocular taste buds.

The mise-en-scene is not unlike the Frank Miller/Robert Rodriguez approach to the world of Sin City, but here, the rich monochrome, dappled occasionally with garish colours, seems even more suited to the genre of horror rather than neo-noir. Geddes guides his superb cast through the minefields of a gothic nightmare with the assured hand of a master, eliciting performances that play the more lurid properties of the characters blessedly straight (McHattie, Banks and Murphy), thus allowing occasional explosions of over-the-top, though never tongue-in-cheek thespian gymnastics from Julian Richings and legendary director Bruce McDonald.

Crypt-Keepers and Grave-Keepers have long been a staple of horror, but usually, they're not treated as characters, but as "hosts" to deliver anthology-styled tales of terror (not unlike the classic Amicus production from the 70s such as Tales from the Crypt). As a feature film, Hellmouth gets to have its cake and eat it too. However, given that Charlie Baker is a living, breathing character, Foresight Features might actually have a property here worth revisiting - either in feature-length prequels, sequels and/or standalone "presents" tales of other grave-keepers. Better yet, there might even be a terrific continuing anthology series for the likes of Starz with Charlie involved week-to-week as an actual participant and storyteller. God knows the creative above-the-liners are more than skilled and up-to-the-challenge and Stephen McHattie, one of the best character actors in the world would be the ideal star.

Just a thought from a middle-aged old exhibitor, film buyer and movie producer . . .

Getting back to my personal rumination of those halcyon days when I programmed cult movies, it's with all respect that I reveal now that Hellmouth is the kind of picture we used to fondly refer to as a "head film". Like the work of Alejandro Jodorowsky (El Topo), Slava Tsukerman (Liquid Sky), David Lynch (Eraserhead) and so many others during the "Golden" Age of cult cinema, Hellmouth is ideal viewing for those who wish to ingest copious amounts of hallucinogens prior to and during their viewings of the film. That said, like all terrific "head films", the movie itself is plenty hallucinogenic and ultimately requires no added stimulants.

THE FILM CORNER RATING: **** 4-Stars

Hellmouth enjoyed its World Premiere at the Toronto After Dark Film Festival 2014 and is being distributed by Anchor Bay Entertainment Canada (and its Uncle Sam counterpart Anchor Bay).

SEPTIC MAN - Review By Greg Klymkiw - Presented by Raven Banner Entertainment, Jesse Thomas Cook's Masterpiece of Terror, written by Tony Burgess and produced by the visionary Foresight Festures, is a must-own title on DVD via Anchor Bay Entertainment Canada. It will scare the crap out of you - LITERALLY!!!

SEPTIC MAN was one of my favourite genre pictures of 2013. In my various accolade lists, the movie scored big-time. In my Toronto After Dark Film Festival 2013 Best of the Fest round-up, I bestowed 10 - count 'em - 10 Greg Klymkiw "Film Corner Accolades" which included:

Most Disgusting Movie
Best Canadian Feature Film
Best Screenwriting: Tony Burgess
Best Art Direction/Production Design: Jason David Brown
Best Makeup: Alex Rotundo
Best Actress (Supporting): Nicole G. Leier
Best Social Commentary Content
Best Movie that DEMANDS a Sequel
Best Line of Dialogue: "I’m a civic-minded shit sucker."
Best Babe Taking a Shit and Vomiting: Nicole G. Leier.

In my 10 Best Lists, I named it one of the 10 BEST HORROR FILMS OF 2013 and in my overall round-up of accolades for the best of the year, I cited the film with my BEST VISUAL & SPECIAL MAKEUP EFFECTS of 2013 Oblation.

This is the result of E-coli poisoning in the water system of Collingwood. Enjoy!

A good SEPTIC MAN is hard to find.

Septic Man (2013) ****
Dir. Jesse Thomas Cook / Screenplay: Tony Burgess
Starring: Jason David Brown, Molly Dunsworth, Robert Maillet, Julian Richings,
Stephen McHattie, Tim Burd, Nicole G. Leier

Review By Greg Klymkiw

Any movie that opens with a weepy babe (Nicole G. Leier) taking a severely punishing crap replete with dulcet echoes of spurting, plopping and gaseous expulsions whilst said babe alternates twixt the release of putrid faecal matter with cum-shot-like geysers of stringy rancid vomit launching from within her maw, splattering triumphantly upon the grotesque tiles of a dimly lit toilet adorned top to bottom in slime, sludge, blown chunks and excrement, should be enough to alert viewers they're in for one mother-pounder of a wild ride into the deepest pits of scatological horror hell.

Septic Man, a new movie from the talented young Canadian horror auteur Jesse Thomas Cook (Monster Brawl), screenwriter Tony Burgess (Ejecta, Pontypool) and the visionary independent production company Foresight Features takes the cake (of the urinal variety) for serving up one heaping, horrific platter o' genre representation of the real-life deadly water contamination that occurred several years ago in the bustling Southern Ontario burgh of Walkerton - known around the world for its inbreeding and, of course, the famous E-coli contamination of its drinking water.

The Walkerton tragedy occurred in May of 2000 when some 5000 people flooded (so to speak) the hospitals with severe cases of bloody diarrhoea and a bevy of other tummy-related ailments. Heading up the Walkerton Public Utilities Commission were the Koebel Brothers, two real prizes who'd held their jobs for over thirty years in spite of having absolutely no qualifications to do so. Stan and Frank, fulfilling the respective responsibilities of manager and water foreman, claimed the drinking water was just fine - pure, clean and safe to drink.

Seven people died and a veritable shit-load (as it were) fell ill. The nastiness could have been averted if the trusty local fellas hadn't lied through their teeth. During a subsequent criminal investigation, the Koebel Boys admitted wrongdoing of astronomical proportions - Stan falsified reports and Frank had been happily juicing on the job because his office was not equipped with a fridge to keep beer cold.

It is this very case, ripped from Canadian headlines and firmly lodged in the country's history of endlessly incompetent public service that clearly inspired director Cook to cook-up (so to speak) this delectable sick puppy of a movie. With the nimble, twisted words of Pontypool, Ejecta scribe Tony Burgess, it's a simple tale with an accent on a claustrophobic setting. While some might compare Septic Man to the 80s Troma Films classic The Toxic Avenger, Cook and Burgess's mordant wit, the hallucinogenic horror styling, intelligent (albeit sledge hammer) social commentary and eye-assaulting viscous-splattering and pustule-sprouting imagery of the foulest kind, all bring it much closer to David Cronenberg's early work (most notably Shivers, Rabid and The Brood).

Rather than Walkerton, Cook chooses to set his fictitious horror movie rendering of heinous incompetence leading to a major health crisis in his home town of Collingwood, Ontario.

This, I will admit, is especially knee-slapping since Collingwood is known far more for tony tourism, over-priced retreats, upscale cottage country and a retirement community for rich old people as opposed to Walkerton's inbreeding claim to fame. While far more ludicrous, it is not, surprisingly, improbable.

Following the aforementioned opening five minutes of pre-credit babe-o-licious crapping and barfing, Septic Man introduces us to a televised report from Collingwood's Mayor (the indomitably brilliant Stephen McHattie) who, with the hilarious timbre of virtually every small town Ontario civic official intones the following with a perfectly appropriate straight face: "I’m gonna be honest with you, like I always am. I’m not going to pull any punches. We are in a heck of a goddamn situation here." He goes on to admit that his office has known for six weeks that the source of a local contamination is from the town's water supply, resulting in the deaths of 16 people and hundreds afflicted with ailments related to crypto sporidium and e-coli (including cholera). The Mayor goes on to announce a complete civilian evacuation of Collingwood orchestrated by military, law enforcement and federal officials.

While all hell breaks loose, we're introduced to the lone efforts of Jack (Jason David Brown), Collingwood's ace septic expert as he toils prodigiously in a stinking pool of sludge on the outskirts of a huge pollution-spewing factory that's emptying the most foul concoction of excrement, slime and dead rats into the town's water table. He's approached by Prosser (played with officious malevolence by one of Canada's finest character actors Julian Richings), a dapper gentleman who makes Jack a highly lucrative offer that just cannot be refused.

Prosser represents a "consortium". When Jack asks, "What's that?", Prosser simply declares: "Results, Jack." This implies that only a consortium, as opposed to government officials, are the only ones to acknowledge that our sludge-caked hero is the sole individual in town who has always been on top of various water-related issues. Furthermore, Prosser notes how Jack's efforts have largely gone been unappreciated by local authorities.

Jack wonders why he should risk staying behind when he has a responsibility to accompany his wife to the curling rink where Collingwood's residents are being bussed out. Prosser suggests that money will be the greatest incentive and a reward for Jack's service and prowess. He also throws in an offer wherein Jack will get a cushy desk job for life where he'll "do fuck-all but put your feet up." This is vaguely compelling, but Prosser seals the deal when he reminds Jack "Your wife probably smells shit every time you fuck her." Jack protests with, "Hey, my wife’s pregnant." Clearly the smell of shit hasn't kept the couple from procreating, but ultimately, Prosser's argument is genuinely the right thing to do.

"I’m a civic-minded shit sucker," Jack proclaims upon agreeing to the mission of delving deep into the bowels of the sewer system emptying into the water from the mysterious factory.

What follows is a lonely odyssey into the darkest depths of utter horror. Reality and nightmare become one as Jack uncovers a series of secret underground pipes and tunnels cluttered with corpses and body parts, then realizes he's trapped in a Knossos-like maze of filth presided over by two clearly inbred psychopaths, Lord Auch (Tim Burd) a nasty little thing with a mouthful of razor-sharp canines and a humungous, hulking, long-faced muscle man of few words (played by former WWF wrestling champ and star of such diverse genre favourites as 300, The Immortals, Pacific Rim and, of course, Cook's own hit Anchor Bay title from last year, Monster Brawl).

The special visual and makeup effects are, by the way, superb - right across the board - which comes as no surprise since the SFX team includes Canada's wizard of wonder Steven Kostanski (Astron-6, Manborg). Then again, one of the hallmarks of Foresight Features productions is the fact that so many of its key above the line creators have no problem doing double-triple-quadruple-quintuple and so on duties - immersing themselves in the entire process in a hands-on fashion. Cook, in particular, is a born filmmaker - cinema seems hardwired into his very DNA and he shares this quality with such new Canadian horror icons as Astron-6 and the Twisted Twins. This is how great low-budget movies get made, but more importantly, Foresight understands that you do NOT make low budget features that pathetically try to emulate the mainstream (including indies since most of them are bargain basement studio pictures anyway) - they seek to plumb depths that others do not dare dive into. They happily swim about in a world of shit.

Plumbing, of course, is exactly what this picture is all about and eventually, deep within the bowels of the factory's sewers, an infection sets in, and Jack begins to transform into something utterly hideous and horrific - something bordering, perhaps, on the immortal. Not unlike a number of seminal low budget cult films - David Lynch's Eraserhead in particular - Septic Man roams into nightmarish and hallucinogenic territory which is a delicious place for the film to go since it logically opens things up for all manner of illness.

Though there's a tiny bit of wheel-spinning that weights the picture down slightly in its middle portion, Cook has overall crafted a truly sickening, creepy and original horror gem that joins the ranks of Canada's west coast twins of the most twisted kind, the delightful Soskas who delivered American Mary and Winnipeg's Astron-6 who gave us the magnificent mega-bum-blaster Father's Day. Though some might feel Septic Man doesn't quite creep into modern masterpiece territory of the Soskas's body modification classic or the Astron-6 celebration of demonic sodomy, Jesse Thomas Cook with this and his supremely entertaining Monster Brawl is well on his way to carving a niche all his own into Canada's worthy tradition of audaciously sicko horror. Ultimately, Septic Man is indeed, a masterpiece of terror.

Between all three Canucks, they form a mighty trinity of delectably diseased subjects. In the name of the Father - Body Modification, The Son - Sodomy and The Holy Ghost - Excrement, young Canadian horror wizards are leaving the rest behind as mere dust in their tracks.

This is truly a must-see motion picture, but to be on the safe side, avoid eating Indian or Mexican cuisine prior to screening it (unless you truly feel the need to purge). And frankly, whether you feel the need to expunge or not, I recommend you load up on the Tums for your tummy before strapping on the feedbag to dine upon this exquisite cinematic cesspool of scary scatological horror that is Jesse Thomas Cook's brazenly foul Septic Man.

Septic Man, a Raven Banner presentation, is available on DVD via Anchor Bay Entertainment Canada and Anchor Bay Films on Aug. 19, 2014 with a lovely new transfer to enhance all of the blood and faecal matter. Sadly, there are no extra features. I'd have given my right testicle for a Jesse Thomas Cook commentary track. The movie enjoyed its World Premiere at Fantastic Fest 2013 in awesome Austin, Texas and launched a mighty home base turd in at the illustrious Toronto After Dark Film Festival 2013. Just buy the movie, already. IF YOU DON'T, YOU ARE A LOSER OF THE HIGHEST MAGNITUDE. 

EJECTA - Review By Greg Klymkiw - Solid script anchors alien thriller premiering @FantAsiaFilmFestival2014

It's time to make room for some visitors.

IF YOU DARE DOUBT,
YOU'RE A FOOL!

Ejecta (2014) dir. Dir. Chad Archibald, Matt Wiele
Screenplay: Tony Burgess
Starring: Julian Richings, Lisa Houle, Adam Seybold

Review By Greg Klymkiw

In a world replete with eyewitness accounts detailing UFO sightings and contact with extraterrestrial (or at least, unidentified) life forms, all the stuff so many individuals and groups have testified to seeing and/or feeling, are those which tend to be discounted by ascribing said testimonials to mental illness. Though I have no doubt that many such experiences are indeed the bi-products of more than a few of the aforementioned folks being completely out of their respective (or collective) gourds, I still get the willies when I realize that some of them are most probably not crazy, that they've seen and experienced things I hope to never be unlucky enough to witness and/or feel.

Furthermore, I genuinely believe there's stuff out there that can never be adequately explained and probably won't be since an elite exists that's all too aware of certain realities, but keeps them veiled in secrecy for a variety of social, cultural, religious, political and economic reasons. The only people who would tend to dispute this, to doubt it beyond all that is reasonable, are those who would be quick to dismiss such notions, both genuinely and surreptitiously.

My own beliefs on this matter are not, I suspect, only due to years of tuning into very some very strange stuff on shortwave radio, eons of listening to Art Bell and George Noory on late-night talk radio and poring over as many books, articles and internet blogs on the matter as I've been able to pore over. Nay, I accept without question that some truly weird shit's going on out there (or, at the very least, I take it seriously enough to question it).

As for the poor souls who've become targets of derision for experiencing the unexplainable, it's clear they've been through something that's so cerebellum-brandingly real, so horrific, so indescribable and so nerve-shreddingly painful that they can only respond in ways that some would term as insanity. I have no doubt, however, that a goodly number of these people are not bonkers. In fact, those who absolutely refuse to believe are more likely to be the crazy ones.

Oh, and in case you're convinced that I am a few bricks short of a load on this, allow me to reveal, in defence of my sanity, that I've been mulling over the Drake Equation for several years (which, for some, might well be proof of my potentially schizophrenic nature). In any event, the equation provides an excellent basis for thought and discussion on the possibility of life existing beyond Earth and within our very own Milky Way and as such, has its fair share of champions in the scientific community. Radio Astronomer Frank Drake first came up with it in the early 60s and while it's impossible to use as a purely mathematical equation due to several unknown variables, it's still quite a brilliant series of questions to consider when searching for signs of extraterrestrial life. In fact, the Drake Equation is indeed the very foundation upon which the science of astrobiology was founded. (Feel free to do your own research on this, there's plenty of great stuff out there for further illumination.)

As well, we would be fools to ignore the wealth of historical artifacts, etchings and fossils that can certainly provide a solid bedrock to allow for a huge degree of healthy speculation that we, are not, alone, or, as expressed by the central character in the terrific film Ejecta:

"We were never alone."

All the aforementioned conundrums I've expressed tie directly and indeed form a great deal of the content of this extraordinary feature film triumph from the visionary Collingwood Crazies known to genre fans as Foresight Features. Ejecta is, without a doubt, one of the scariest science fiction horror films you're likely to see this year.

Buoyed by intense, intelligent writing from Tony Burgess (Pontypool, Septic Man) in a screenplay that induces fingernail-ripping-and-plucking (biting nails to the quick is "pussy", anyway), plus an astonishingly riveting performance by one of Canada's greatest actors Julian (Hard Core Logo, Cube, Man of Steel) Richings, Ejecta is a movie that plunges you into the terror of one utterly horrendous night in the lives of those who make contact with aliens. All of them experience a series of close encounters of the third kind, though be warned, they're as far removed from the benevolence and joy expressed in Spielberg's grandaddy classic of the genre.

There are no happy-faced hairless alien midgets gesticulating Zoltán Kodály Hand Signals whilst smiling at a beaming Francois Truffaut in Ejecta. No-siree-Spielberg, these mo-fos are super-ugly and their presence induces the sheer horror that inspires drawer-filling of the highest order. That said, Close Encounters of the Third Kind is worth noting here, because Ejecta shares one very important element with Spielberg's bonafide masterpiece.

Obsession.

Close Encounters took its title and three-act structure from a system of extraterrestrial classification as posited by the late astronomer Dr. Josef Allen Hynek – the close encounter. According to Hynek, a close encounter of the first kind is seeing unexplained phenomena, while the second kind involves hard proof of some sort of physical manifestation from what was originally witnessed and, finally, the close encounter of the third kind being contact. I'd argue that experiencing even one of these encounters would be enough to drive someone obsessively to seek subsequent levels of encounter or, in the case of Ejecta, we have three characters equally fraught with obsession. One seeks answers to stopping his pain, another will inflict pain to secure answers, while yet another brings the obsession of an artist seeking answers in his subject. And forgive me if I get all eggheaded on you here, but there is a sense of Trinity that Ejecta shares with Close Encounters - both pictures have a kind of Father, Son and Holy Spirit manifestation coursing through them and it's this level of spirituality and obsession that bind the pictures.

Close Encounters, of course, charts the journey of everyman Richard Dreyfuss who experiences the unexplained appearance of something other-worldly and abandons his life, his job, his family – everything he holds dear – to obsessively track down the meaning behind this occurrence. In a tale steeped in Judeo-Christian resonance – from Moses to Christ – Roy makes a perilous journey, climbs Devil’s Tower and comes face-to-face with the answer to his visions until he, along with twelve (trinity existing within the square root) apostolic “pilgrims” ascend to the Heavens, arms outstretched in what is surely the most benign crucifixion-image (trinity) imaginable.

This sense of spirituality is almost divine in nature and makes perfect sense considering the aforementioned Hynek’s own belief in the notion that a technology must exist which blends both the physical and psychic. Furthermore, it's important to note that Paul Schrader wrote the first pass of Close Encounters and though he didn't take a story credit (something he regretted almost as quickly as he agreed to it and more so in the years to follow), Spielberg's film feels, deep-down, like a Schrader narrative - especially the combination of obsession and spirituality.

This is an unbeatable combination that Ejecta flirts with at every turn.

The journey Burgess's screenplay takes us on begins quite evocatively with some cold, impersonal Ascii-text being typed onto a hazy computer monitor:

Tonight the universe is no bigger than my head.
It's time to make room for some visitors.

Yes, visitors indeed. William Cassidy (Julian Richings), a conspiracy theorist living off the grid in the middle of some godforsaken Ontario hinterland is inundated with unwelcome guests - a filmmaker, an interrogator and a mean-ass alien.

Joe (Adam Seybold) is the most benevolent of the three visitors Cassidy receives. This ultra-indie one-man-show documentary filmmaker believes he's been invited by Cassidy to engage in an interview. When he gets confirmation that he'll be granted an audience, he's ecstatic since Cassidy is considered the "Holy Grail" of UFO experts. Upon arriving, Cassidy seems confused as to why Joe is even there, but as things progress, we understand all too well why the wiry, jittery recluse is occasionally addled. Unlike the Richard Dreyfuss character in Close Encounters, most of Cassidy's adult life has been fraught with the obsession an alien encounter instigates. At least Dreyfuss had tangible things to lose, but poor Cassidy appears to have lost everything before he could even get a chance to amass it. What he's amassed is a life of questions, pain and endless, seemingly futile attempts to let the world know about his experience. He's lost a life he could have had. That's scary enough, but happily, the movie delivers its share of visceral chills to complement those of the philosophical variety.

We are privy to some of Joe's interview footage which reveals Cassidy's credentials in the UFO field. At first, Joe makes the mistake of referring to the alien abduction Cassidy suffered almost forty years ago, but is sternly corrected that it was not an abduction. The aliens came to Cassidy:

"They met inside my mind. I could feel them, I could hear them inside. They pretty much ignored me, but they had this meeting and then they left. They left something behind, something inside of me, and it's been there ever since. When I'm awake it hurts, but when I'm not, it floods me with these nightmares. No, no, it's not nightmares, it's not a thing, it's a feeling, it's not pain, it's not fear, it's something else, something much, much worse."

And damned if we don't believe him. This, of course, is one of the scariest things about the film. Burgess has written a character that allows Richings to invest with such intensity, that many of the creeps and shudders we get come directly from Cassidy's brilliantly scribed (via Burgess) and executed (via Richings) dialogue.

It's often been erroneously suggested in a kind of knee-jerk screenwriting 101 fashion that it's always better to show in movies than tell and those who ascribe to this strictly are too quick to dismiss the cinematic power of telling. In the case of Ejecta, so much of the film's power is in the showing of the telling and believe you me, the telling via the words Burgess provides to Richings borders on the poetic and it's these flights of fancy rooted in the unknown that not only wrench the bloody bejesus out of you but are one of the contributing factors to the film's overall achievement as a genre film that utilizes the tropes it must, but does so with the oft-neglected poetry inherent in cinema itself.

When Cassidy explains the feelings he has because of the intrusive alien presence within him, he notes in desperation, that it's "the fear of the anticipation of this feeling [which] eats away at my life." Well, Jesus H. Christ, Almighty! Hand me an extra large pair of Depends Adult Diapers because this statement and the chilling manner of its delivered was easily just as shit-my-drawers scary as a beautifully directed set piece which happens at another juncture in the film where Cassidy and Joe hide in the shed from the alien that prowls malevolently just outside.

Structurally, the film benefits from yet another trinity in the three-pronged approach to capturing the narrative of this night of horror. Firstly, there's Joe's documentary footage, then there's the perspective of the military through various helmet-cams and finally, the present-tense unfolding of Cassidy's interrogation at the hands of the malevolent Dr. Tobin (Lisa Houle). The movie skilfully bounces us throughout these perspectives, yet we seldom feel lost in the proceedings beyond the manner in which the characters themselves feel lost.

The film is co-directed by Matt Wiele and Chad Archibald and while it's difficult to ascertain the nature of the collaboration from the finished product, the bottom line is that there's a consistency to the film's overall snap, crackle and pop which renders a picture that almost always grabs you by the balls (or, if you will, vulva), squeezing, scratching, scrunching and twisting until you feel you can bear no more.

My only quibble is with certain elements of the interrogation scenes. There's an automaton quality to the military personnel which is no doubt intentional, but often feels too "play-acted" to gel with the elements in the film which seem rooted in docudrama-like reality. I was also mixed on how the blocking played out during these scenes as they seemed almost by-the-numbers plotted-out, not unlike that of series television.

Lisa Houle's performance, however, is one of the weirdest I've seen on film in a long time and that's quite a statement considering that she plays opposite Julian Richings who is eccentricity-incarnate. At first, I was not sure of her performance and thought I'd have to repress it in order to enjoy everything I loved about the picture, but it eventually grew on me because it really is so out-to-lunch. Houle delivers many of her lines with a kind of sing-song quality and at times she came across like some genetically mutated pollination twixt a happy host on children's educational programming and Ilsa, She-Wolf of the S.S.

This, ladies and gentlemen, is an achievement. My hat is off to her.

Then again, my hat is off to the entire Foresight Features team. They keep delivering the goods and Ejecta is as strange, perverse, thoughtful, scary and darkly funny as their best work has proven to be. The film also gives new meaning to the old movie tagline "Watch the Skies" because here, it's not the skies you need to watch, it's the universe implanted in your brain and goddamn, it hurts. And worst of all, you can't necessarily see it. Short of sawing the top of your skull off and gazing at your glistening brain in one of those cooking show mirrors, there's nothing to "watch".

Everything is feeling. And that, is really fucking scary.

THE FILM CORNER RATING: **** Four Stars

Ejecta had its world premiere, presented by Anchor Bay Entertainment Canada, at the 2014 edition of the FantAsia International Film Festival in Montreal.