Fantastic Fest 2022 Diaries: Day Eight
After dropping the ball yesterday and spending a quiet night in, I was determined to make today count since it was the last day of the festival. I woke up around 8:45 a.m. ready to make the most of it.
I got the usual morning stuff out of the way; fed and walked the dog, made myself breakfast (another round of cinnamon-clove oatmeal with flaxseed, raisons, and honey), and gradually jump started my body with some coffee. I puttered around a bit, half-watching Last Week Tonight With John Oliver while waiting for the coffee to take hold. The episode ended, but I was still groggy, so I fell down a YouTube rabbithole for a bit.
At around 10:30 a.m., I emerged for air from my YouTube spelunking, the last fragments of tiredness finally exorcised from my body. I fired off a text to Joe Badon to see about syncing up with him for an interview before he left Austin for New Orleans. Then, I decided to go for a run to continue to chip away at the festival weight I had acquired over the past 7 days.
The sun was out, but the UV index was moderately low, and there was a nice, persistent breeze. Lucy and I ran 3.5 miles in about a half hour, and then walked the last half mile back to the apartment. When we got back, it was about 11:20 a.m. I decided it was time to knuckle down and do some work — but first I needed to wash the stink and sweat off myself.
While I got the shower going, I moved all the audio files I had recorded for the Q&A podcasts over to my laptop, and labeled and organized them. Then I hopped through the shower, careful not to slip and fall as I washed up in a hurry.
When I finished up and was dry, I threw on some clothes — the same outfit I had intended to wear yesterday, but didn’t really get to since I botched the day: my black and white Holy Mountain t-shirt and black jeans; I figured Badon would appreciate the Jodorowsky attire.
I got busy writing about the Day-7 detour. I found a groove and kinda fell into the flow. I thought I had silent mode turned off, but in actuality, I did not. Badon had text me about an hour ago; he was free until 2:15. It was like 1 p.m. now, so I told him I was on my way, scooped up my things — remembering my badge this time! — and headed downtown.
Traffic wasn’t a nightmare, and I was able to get to the South Lamar Drafthouse unobstructed. I was parked and in the lobby before 1:30, and since I was the only dude in a white shirt, I was easy for Badon to spot. He greeted me warmly and led me over to his booth in the Highball Lounge. He was with his 2D animator, whose name, regretfully, escapes me.
Joe and I caught up a bit while I clumsily unloaded all my recording equipment. He even gave me a little look-see at the pitch for his next feature, which had me saying: “I’m all in; you have my money.” With time dwindling before Badon’s 2:15 screening of Mickey Reece’s Country Gold, we jumped right into the interview, which was a real joy. Joe and I could effortlessly talk for hours, but we kept things to a freeform 30 minutes. Afterwards, we said our farewells, but made some loose plans to collaborate in the future; Joe was looking for some writing collaborators, and I would happily give it a go.
I had 3 hours to kill before my first screening of the day, so I headed outside, thinking I’d post up over at Greenbelt Botanicals again to work. There was practically no one outside the theater, since the afternoon screenings were currently running. I was no rush, so I chilled out in front of the theater at one of the standing tables under an awning, scrolling through Reddit and enjoying the cool weather.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see David Farrier talking with some folks about Buc-ee’s, a chain of country stores and gas stations that has several locations in Texas. Aside from me and a woman smoking a cigarette with her dog, they were the only folks outside, so it was easy to overhear. Farrier was curious what it is about Buc-ee’s that Texans cherish so much; he said he was interested in covering the topic in his podcast: Flightless Bird. The people he was chatting with weren’t really getting to the heart of the question, so I chimed in.
They were more than happy to add another body to the conversation. I told them that the draw, for me at least, was the bathrooms. I told Farrier that they boasted having the cleanest bathrooms, and they weren’t being hyperbolic; for a truckstop, their bathrooms were immaculate and plentiful. You don’t have to wait in line (or at least I never have), and you don’t have to worry about the nastiness you tend to encounter whenever you stop to use the restroom at a gas station or truck stop.
Another women came outside to smoke a cigarette, and she joined in the conversation as well, which branched out to HEB, an incredible Texas grocery chain. We made formal introductions; the latest addition’s name was Jess, and she had recently moved to Austin from Mexico City; one of the others was Kim, and the other’s name evaporated from my skull, but I know he was a member of the jury this year, meaning he got to deliberate with other jury members over which films would receive an award, and he also made documentaries, some of which had shown in past FF programming. I retained that much.
Farrier said he wanted to interview both me and Jess for his podcast, so he went to get his field recorder. In a an act of kindness, Jess went inside to get everyone water, which was extremely sweet and much needed; I was actually parched. When she came back, we talked for a bit. Jess was also in the film industry, mostly doing work as a producer. In fact, she was literally born into the industry, she said. Her mom was also in the industry, a film and television actress and stunt coordinator in Mexico. Her mother’s water had broken on a film set, and she was rushed to the hospital while the production carried on. Pretty fascinating, I thought.
Farrier returned and interviewed us. He asked me about the Buc-we’d bathrooms again, and I said, “Look, I’m not going tell you you can eat off the bathroom floor, but you can eat off the bathroom floor.” He asked me a few more questions, and then I asked him for a picture, which he obliged, joking that it was “good for the ego.”
We talked a bit more about his experience working on Mister Organ. I asked him about the things he had to cut for legal reasons, and he told me and the jury member about some of the things that wound up on the cutting room floor. He informed us on the strict nature of New Zealand’s defamation laws, which prevented him from including certain material — even though it was all true.
I asked him if he was comfortable being sued after Tickled and Mister Organ, and he said, “Oh yeah, it’s nothing. I don’t have a family or a lot of money; there’s nothing for anyone to take.” He also mentioned that David D'Amato had passed away, so his two lingering lawsuits magically disappeared. I joked, “One monster down, one more to go,” and we had a pretty good laugh.
Farrier went off to grab a cup of coffee with a friend, so we said our goodbyes. He planned on seeing Piggy at 5 p.m. as well, so maybe we’d cross paths again.
I went over to Greenbelt Botanicals, got an overpriced pre-roll, and settled into a cozy booth. It was about 3:30, so I had about an hour or so to kill. I started putting together the podcast episodes for some of the Q&As I recorded, and managed to get a couple done before it was time to go see Piggy.
Piggy had been named as the festival’s Best Picture in the horror category, so I was eager to see what the hype was about. I had also gotten to do an email interview with the writer/director Carlota Pereda for her short film, for which the feature is based, and I was curious to see how she’d expand upon it. Not sure I fully dug the direction she chose to go, but the ride was a solidly gripping one.
Mixing coming-of-age with warped revenge and bad romance, Piggy is a dark, morally ambiguous feature-film debut that uses Pereda‘s short as the disturbing catalyst for the feature. The direction is really measured and controlled. Pereda does a terrific job of planting us firmly in the perspective of her protagonist, Sara. The real standout is Laura Galán and her performance. She really sells Sara’s internal struggles and gives her a nice complexity. Her feelings about her body, bullying, and the bloody dilemma she finds herself in don’t need any words because it’s all worn so clearly on her face and built into her body language. Even though I wasn’t as sold on it as others, I’m definitely eager to see what Pereda does next.
After Piggy, I went into the parking garage to charge my phone, which was nearly dead. Not only did I need my phone for my ticket, I also had a suspicion that there’d be a Q&A of some kind for the last film of the festival, and I wanted to make sure I was able to record it. I put together a few more Q&A podcasts while I let me phone juice up, and then after about 30-40 minutes, I headed back to the theater for my last screening of this year’s Fantastic Fest.
This year, the festival was closing things out with Ruben Östlund’s Triangle Of Sadness, which was the Palme d’Or winner at this year’s Cannes Film Festival. I’ve been a huge fan of Östlund for a long time, and I had been waiting for Triangle Of Sadness for years. It was probably my most anticipated film at the festival, and I was extremely giddy to take it in. When I took my seat, I was greeted with some Triangle Of Silence barf bags which made me laugh; they were filled with a bag of pretzels and a smooth forehead anti-wrinkle mask.
Östlund’s latest is a savage and sharp satire that takes big ole bites out of the rich and did not disappoint. Sectioned into the three parts, the film is about a luxury cruise for the wealthy elite that becomes shipwrecked, disrupting the social order entirely. It starts by mocking the standard capitalist social structure, with the compositions immaculately level, but later, in the 2nd section, things start to run crook during the Captain’s dinner. After that, Östlund flips the social hierarchy he scathingly criticizes on its head. The results are wildly entertaining and wickedly funny.
While the film’s third section slows down the pacing and dims the bulb on the humor, it still maintains interest and successfully gets you to think. We’re all kind of trapped in the triangle of sadness. No matter what system you’re apart of, capitalism or socialism, someone winds up on top. It seems to be groping for an alternative but in its pursuit it finds that there’s really no system that serves as an equalizer. Once someone is at the top, they don’t really want to climb back down to a lower station.
The film cuts off at a thought-provoking point that smartly leaves a character’s final decision in the hands of its audience. Beneath its high-class sheen, there’s some spunky punky attitude, which I quite admired. It builds off Östlund’s previous two films but steers his craft in a more overtly comedic direction that’s more crowd-pleasing and accessible. Even though the ship in the film sinks, Östlund’s steady hands keep the film afloat.
P.s.: it has some of the funniest puking you’ll see in any film this year. Seriously, hall-of-fame level spurts that are up there with Team America: World Police and Monty Python’s The Meaning Of Life.
After the screening concluded, actress Dolly De Leon came out for a quick Q&A before commencing the Closing Night Party, which I bailed on. It had certainly been a day, and I felt like I had redeemed myself after yesterday’s mishap. As I drove home, I reflected on the past week. Even though I was utterly exhausted, I was sad it was over and already looking forward to next year.
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 Seven
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!