Fantastic Fest 2022 Diaries: Day Seven
Since I had gone to bed at a normal hour the night before, I was able to wake up earlier. At around 7:45 a.m., I was greeted by a ecstatic Lucy, who wanted to play. We wrestled around, and I let her playfully gnaw on my arm, and then I finally peeled myself away from the bed.
Did the usual; fed and walked the dog, got the coffee going. For breakfast, I opted for the quick and classic oatmeal, dressed up with some cinnamon, honey, and raisins, with a dash of clove to boast the antioxidants. I watched some bullshit on TV while I sipped coffee and slurped oatmeal.
With breakfast in belly, I cracked my knuckles and got busy doing the work I neglected to do the night before. I got the Day-Five recap drafted and published around 9:30 a.m., and I started throwing together the Day-Six recap to get caught back up. Before I started, I made sure to set a timer so I didn’t drop the ball again on tomorrow’s ticket.
I got a decent start on the Day-Six diary, but had to shift gears once the timer went off. I got tickets to both the screenings I wanted for the day: Carlota Pereda’s Piggy and Ruben Östlund’s Triangle Of Sadness. The latter of which I’d been waiting to see for about 3 years or longer. I wasn’t able to get a seat in the main auditorium for Triangle, but I was over the moon to have gotten a seat, and I hoped Östlund would show up, as that would be the cherry on top of the great genre sundae that is Fantastic Fest.
With tickets for the last day of the fest acquired, I could rest easy and just go with the flow of the festival until the bitter end. I pivoted back over the the Day-Six write-up, and I had it all done and dusted by a little after 11 p.m. Lucy was giving me the “walk me” eyes, so I decided it would be good idea to take another long stroll since I had the afternoon free.
We hoofed it over to the Riata Mart and back again, another 4+ mile round trip for synthetic caffeination, which we managed to leisurely do in roughly 90 minutes. The weather was pleasant and starting to take a turn toward the fall-like. You could still work up a sweat though — and we did. Both of us were a bit winded and took a breather when we got back to the apartment. Lucy spread out on the cool wood-tiled floor, and I lounged in my recliner brandishing a sugar-free Monster.
By this point, it was around 12:30 p.m., and I figured I should make some lunch, since I had neglected to do so the day before. I pre-heated the oven to bake a faux burger, and watched some bullshit on YouTube while it cooked. I heated up some leftover turmeric rice and potatoes to go along with it, and I had myself a nice little meal.
After I ate, I decided to take the dog out again, since it made sense to stay sweaty for another walk. As we were out, a walk turned into a run, and we tacked on another mile and a half to our daily total.
When we got back, I shaved off a week’s worth of Fantastic-Fest stubble and took an unhurried shower, trying to decide what I should do next with my last little bit of free time. I decided to knock out the intro and outro recordings for podcast episodes I would make with the various Q&As I’d recorded. I got dried off and partially dressed, cracked another can of caffeination (but with added focus!), and started setting up to record.
After I had gotten everything set up and my notes pulled up, it was about a quarter past 3 by the time I was set to record. I blasted through the intro/outros, stumbling and faltering a bit, but I would make it work in the edit. I wrapped close to 4 p.m., finished getting dressed for the festival, and went out to take Lucy for one last walk before I went downtown. We got back around 4:25 p.m., and I crossed my fingers that traffic would be agreeable. I was pushing it tight for time, with a screening at 5:15, so I scooped up my things into my backpack and bolted.
I had forgotten that my gas tank was dwindling — 35 miles to empty — and I was promptly reminded as soon as I started up the car. The GPS was saying I’d be about 40 minutes to the theater, which would put me real close on time. I had to stop for gas though, so I did that as quick as I could and got back on the road.
Traffic was a real mess though, a clotted metropolis artery that slowed to a near standstill. Things looked real bleak, and this was only MoPac. I visualized the light on Cesar Chavez to turn onto South Lamar as a hopeless clusterfuck. This next screening — which was for Medusa Deluxe, a flick A24 snagged North America rights for — was looking like it’d be the one that got away from me. Still, I stayed the course and tried to remain optimistic.
By the time I exited MoPac for Cesar Chavez, I knew I would never make it; the line of cars waiting to turn on South Lamar was a long one that snaked its way nearly to the exit. With like 6 minutes before showtime, there was just no way it could be done. I checked the schedule to see if maybe the film would be paired with a short film, which would buy me some more time, but alas!, it was not. Then, to add insult to injury, I realized I had forgotten to grab my festival badge before I left. How bout that…
With no badge and no way to make it to the screening on time, I decided to call it a wash. I cancelled the other ticket I had for a stop-motion animation film called Oink, and decided to bail on the festival for the day. I was in the heart of rush hour traffic, and it would take 50 minutes to get back to get home, only to turn around and come back… It just didn’t seem worth it really. I guess I’d just leverage the online screening room and do Fantastic Fest at home tonight.
To make the most of my majorly bungled and botched day, I decided to go over to Counter Culture, a vegan dinner on the east side, to let the rush hour rush by. Things started to turn around slightly when I was informed it was still happy hour, which meant 30% off appetizers. I ordered myself some nachos and some Asian BBQ seitan skewers.
With a full belly and thinned traffic, I zoomed back home, arriving around 7:30 p.m. A 3-hour detour with very little to show, but that’s how these things go sometimes, I suppose. Lue was taken for an evening walk (another mile and a half) and given dinner. While she scarfed down her food, I perused the online screening room.
The first film I decided to cue up was Bad City, a Japanese flick about cops in the midst of turf war between rival gangs. It started out pretty strong, but quickly ran out of compelling steam. Let’s just say that it leans into the “bad” of its title, but it does so with a commendable bit of swagger. For a straight-to-streamer, it admirably attempts to transcend its low budget indie station, but it just doesn’t quite have the oomph to break through.
Bad City features V-Cinema icon Hitoshi Ozawa, who shows that even at the tender age of 60, he's got some feral fight in him left to give. But aside from celebrating Ozawa, it does little else to capture the audience's attention, mind, or heart. Directed by Kensuke Sonomura, a veteran stunt coordinator who's choreographed action for John Woo, Donnie Yen, Mamoru Oshii, and Yudai Yamaguchi (amongst others), the film is chock-full of gritty, energetic bare-knuckle brawls with baddies, which span the gamut between exciting and sloppy (generally more on the latter end of the spectrum, particularly the more it plods on). With a generic and predictable plot, a longer than necessary runtime, and a general lack of visual flair, Bad City tends to miss more punches than it lands. The more things play out, the more low-budget seams become visible and the sloppier its fights become. It's definitely got swagger — thanks to Ozawa's grizzled copper and Sonomura choreography experience — but it doesn't take any risks and kind of slumps across the finish, exhausted from its long-winded beatdown.
The last thing I fired up before calling it a night was Razzennest, the latest cinematic experiment from Masking Threshold director Johannes Grenzfurthner. The film appears in Fantastic Fest’s Burnt Ends section, which "seeks to champion eccentric independent cinema, from micro-budget genre experiments whose aesthetics and sensibilities provoke or defy mainstream conventions to inspired obscurities deserving of a larger cult audience." Grenzfurthner’s film definitely checks that box for sure.
The film is a slow descent into madness that's framed around a faux commentary track for its fictitious end at terrible director's image-only art film (said to premiere at Fantastic Fest 2022) and its blu-ray. It's kinda reminiscent to Orson Welles‘ clever experimentations in form (think War Of The Worlds and F For Fake colliding). It's a pretty funny scattershot send-up of pretentious arthouse films that takes direct jabs at the industry, its filmmakers and critics, with great lines like "Eggers can suck my Aster." It functions best as a satire, but takes a notable swerve into horror, becoming a ghost story. While the horror adds an element of intrigue to the film's experimentation, it doesn't quite hold up as well as its more overtly comedic first half. Still, very original, very bold, and pretty impressive considering its shoestring budget.
And with that, I stumbled over to bed. I would try my luck tomorrow, making it a point to be more mindful of time — and traffic. I was determined to make my last two screenings of the festival, and also have a little chat with Joe Badon for the podcast. It was going to be a good day; I could feel it in my bones
Fiending for more Fantastic Fest?! Check out the link below:
Fantastic Fest 2022 Diaries: Day One
Fantastic Fest 2022 Diaries: Day Two
Fantastic Fest 2022 Diaries: Day Three
Fantastic Fest 2022 Diaries: Day Four
Fantastic Fest 2022 Diaries: Day Five
Fantastic Fest 2022 Diaries: Day Six
Fantastic Fest 2022 Diaries: Day Eight
Fantastic Fest 2022 reviews
Fantastic Fest 2022 podcasts
Fantastic Fest 2022 lists
What do you think? We want to know. Share your thoughts and feelings in the comments section below, and as always, remember to viddy well!