Saturday, September 20^th

8:00am: Alarm just blew my head off. Don’t want to get out of bed for anything. Film festivals suck. Don’t care if anyone in the industry ever sees my movies. If people want to watch my films they can track down my DVD buried deep in the endless cobwebs of the internet. Feel like I’m having to go to a corporate meeting. Must get some toast and vitamins ASAP. I just want to make movies, not kiss ass. And not be judged. Like me or don’t. Oh geez, just realized how filthy my toilet is –– I can’t sit on that! 409 cleaner please!!!!!

8:30am: Got everything together –– flyers, stickers, DVDs, press kits, business cards –– time to jump in the shower and then get on the road. Suddenly remembered I called my ex-girlfriend late last night and left her a message: Hey, I just realized Marylin Manson wrote your theme song. It’s called USER FRIENDLY. The chorus goes, “I don’t love you, but I’m gonna fuck you till someone better comes along.” I’m thinking that sounds like Hollywood, too.

9:15am: In the truck at last. Got my raspberry chocolate soymilk mocha and I’m ready for some gut-ripping, eye-opening tunes to get me up the 101 into Hollywood. Indeed, that’s the CD, that’s the ticket. Always remember the wisdom of SLIPKNOT, kids: “People E-qual Shit!” Especially before noon.

9:35am: Fast approaching 5300 Melrose Avenue –– Raleigh Studios –– and the high, feudal walls of the south east corner of Paramount Studios, across the street. The closer I get the more big brother looms. Think I’ll take a left. Hmmmmmmm...think I’ll take another left...hmmmmmmm...how the hell do I get into this place? Raleigh Studios, that is. It seems all gates are closed (a typical Hollywood welcome for the little indie filmmaker, eh?). Cell phone rings. It’s my A-list promo team, (sister) Wendy and (crazy, escaped Columbian) Danilo. Seems they’ve spotted the proper point of entry into this swelling nightmare. Of course they insist I go first. So be it. What’s the worst that could happen? The evil front-gate security guard won’t allow me into a film fest showing my own film? Good. Then I can go for breakfast, take a nap, and prepare for afternoon cocktails. Nonetheless, I bravely tell the guard I’m here for Shriekfest –– although as I speak I discreetly caress the truck’s gearshift into reverse in anticipation of a hasty retreat. But what? But all in vane, it seems –– the diligent guard pleasantly asks me for a scant $4 parking fee and grants me unescorted access onto studio property. That’s odd. Must be a trap. But I drive on through the gate and into the land of Mordor anyway. It’s getting close to 10am: festival start time. Must put the bad thoughts away and paint my face with smiles and inject sunny demeanor into my dark eyes. As I park I think, so this is where WHATEVER HAPPENED TO BABY JANE? was filmed. Now is that a good omen or a bad omen?

9:50am: Wendy, Danilo, and I –– shamelessly attired in matching Black Cab Productions T-shirts –– take a quiet, meandering stroll in search of the Chaplin Theater, home to Shriekfest 2003 (and me and my team) for the next two days. I’ve been here before, a long time ago, but have forgotten just how peaceful Raleigh Studios is. No, no, no, I remind myself, don’t fall for the empty lies of Satan! Must remember, I’m not in Kansas anymore. I must, I must! (Help.) Ahhhhh, but then suddenly I see the simple, yet elegant Chaplin Theater backed by the historic bungalows that Jim Hensen and his Muppets once called home. I suddenly, and curiously, feel at ease and all warm and fuzzy inside. But hell hath no fury, I try to remind myself –– I said, hell hath no fury like a Hollywood film festival! But the heavenly, white French doors of the theater keep getting closer and closer and closer and...I either have to enter or run for my life. Well, suddenly my life doesn’t seem worth all that much (in total, a mere 13 minutes of moving images on a small plastic disc called a DVD). Guess it’s time to do battle and die for my cause. I take a breath, open the door, and step into the jaws of fate...

And to my surprise I see a delightful picnic on one side –– turkey and cheese sandwiches and a large surgical-silver bowl loaded with Cheetos, Doritos, Fritos, and Ruffles potato chips; and then another brimming with candy bars of all kinds, as if it’s already Halloween –– and then to my left I see two blonde angels smiling. Both are very attractive, one ever so petite with short hair, and one taller and svelte with long hair. This can’t be right; I really did take a left turn somewhere and wound up at the Sweetfest Film Festival. I peek over my shoulder expecting to see Rod Serling reciting my intro to doom as I foolishly enter the Twilight Zone. But he’s not there...or there...or over there. Must be hiding somewhere, I suspect, in a dark corner; or just behind one of those closed doors down the hallway –– any one of them a deceitfully innocent front concealing the dank maw that twines down and down into the grim bowels of the Chaplin Theater, where Vincent Price has surely been resurrected by sadistic, plagiarizing studio executives to conduct secret inquisitional tortures on timid, over-imaginative screenwriters. The razor-sharp pendulum swings and I cringe –– but gossamer voices pull me back from the pit, and Vincent’s echoing laughter.

It seems the two Sweetfest angels have saved me. They even have my name written down, as well as the names of Wendy and Danilo. We’re handed preprinted nametags and a festival program of events. I guess I really am at Shriekfest, and these lovely seraphs before me are Denise Gossett and Kimberlee Beeson, the creators, organizers, and loving mothers of a Hollywood indie horror/sci-fi film fest. Well, truth is stranger than fiction. Against my will I’m enraptured. But now I have to face the long staircase lined with mysterious and macabre movie posters, leading up to the screening room somewhere above. I suddenly fear Boris Karloff is waiting for me up there, just out of sight around the banister, ready to shackle and imprison me –– leave me to rot and be forgotten in some high, cold, stone chamber of the Chaplin Theater’s own Tower of London. Uhhhhhhhhh, maybe I should go to the restroom first.

9:55am: The restroom is suspiciously normal. Reasonably clean, too. But the urinal smells like a thousand studio execs have past before me. Evil bastards. I quickly wash my hands and flee.

10:00am: Skirting further horrors I at last sit, huddled in relative safety, with Wendy and Danilo in the Chaplin Theater’s number one screening room: a posh, 150 seat, state-of-the-art theater, capable of projecting most any film or video format, and in pristine Dolby Stereo. Too bad there’s only 10 warm bodies scattered about to appreciate it. Wow, what a turnout! Oh good, 2 more arrive. Let’s roll this sucker! Aha, the audience grows again –– now 25 forlorn souls in all. Reality sets in. No one here is famous. But maybe the empty seats are actually filled with the ghosts of dead filmmakers –– this is a horror fest after all. I hear voices! And my paranoid mind is distracted by the ebullient, living presence of Denise and Kimberlee, who cheerfully welcome us and introduce the first group of shorts. The lights dim...and I wonder what cinematic atrocities await me.

TOSS OF THE COIN (Written & Directed by Patrick Steele, 12min) –– The film begins with a decently shot opening sequence, although predictable: man in bathtub + radio perched precariously near edge of tub + cat enters. (You do the math on that one.) Following a pleasantly graphic electrocution, the film sadly takes an immediate nosedive into banality. Emissaries from heaven and hell arrive with cheesy special effects, and wearing even cheesier Buffy-style costumes and makeup, to argue over who has right to the dead man’s soul. Okay, okay! So not every budget can afford the best of everything, but I can fault the producer and director for doing little to spice up an obviously dull script. The humor, I expect, was meant to come across quaint, dry, and clever (and maybe it does in Ohio, where the film was made), but fell flat almost every time. The slow pacing certainly didn’t help, nor did the unoriginal performances. As well, I could see the ending coming a mile away. I do, however, want to congratulate the filmmakers on the demon’s crude palm pilot device –– complete with clever underworld graphics –– which offered the only original visuals and genuine humor in the film.

FATAL KISS (Written & Directed by Jeff Rector, 26min) –– A dimwitted businessman who longs to take revenge on his cheating wife, happens across a late night infomercial offering immortality through vampirism, and which comes with a five figure price tag. Starring Jeff Rector, and loaded with all his B-list TV/film actor friends, this one plays out with campy Buffy-style action, horror, and humor. In other words, nothing new here. Even veteran character actor James Karen (ANY GIVEN SUNDAY, THIRTEEN DAYS, MULHOLLAND DRIVE) offers a listless performance. The story is marginally clever, but quickly becomes tiresome as it meanders its way through too many daydream sequences that offer tame TV humor at best.

PATCHWORK MONKEY (Written & Directed by Susan Bell, 10min) –– A babysitter’s gift of a patchwork monkey begins a disturbing evening for a young boy and his older sister. Is the stuffed monkey really alive and bent on killing them, or is all the horror just in their imagination? You’ll have to watch this one to find out. Shot on 35mm in Texas, this is a taut Twilight Zone tale that never slows down and creates excellent tension through well-planned shots, good editing, professional sound and music, and believable performances by R. Paxton (Tommy) and Kacie Smith (Tommy’s older sister).

DAMAGED (Written & Directed by Dan Mundt, 30min) –– A sexy, female soldier from the future struggles to protect her apocalyptic homeland from a terrible enemy. If only she could have protected me from this film. Running at 30 minutes, DAMAGED is a good 20 minutes too long. The majority of coverage follows our heroin (occasionally firing on flying robots that sever heads with laser fire) as she walks and walks and walks and walks and walks and walks and I never thought the walking would end! By the time the final twist of the story was revealed, I just didn’t care anymore. Good try folks, but tighten your belt, grab an ax, and chop DAMAGED down to size.

ONE DOOR DOWN (Written & Directed by Garett Chipman) –– A young man’s nightmares bring on painful visions of paranoia, but are these merely visions or are they morbid predictions? Hmmmmm...I’m still not quite sure myself. But that’s half the point I suppose. ONE DOOR DOWN is a decent little paranoia film that harkens back to ROSEMARY’S BABY. Believable and lively performances by Roman Varshavsky and the rest of the cast, the film is well shot, but with poor sound. Nonetheless, an entertaining tale that leaves you guessing. The dinner sequence is especially eerie, unsettling, and well performed. In fact, I’m quite certain I’ll never trust my wife again. (If I ever even dare to get married.)

12pm: The first break, and boy do I need one. Starving too. Must seek out the turkey and cheese sandwiches I spied upon arrival. Fighting monsters of the low budget cinema can be exhausting and excruciating work.

12:30pm: Stomachs full, Wendy, Danilo, and I hurry back into the Chaplin Theater (secretly armed with brownies) to watch the first feature film of the fest. I cross myself and pray...please be a good movie...pretty please.

GORY GORY HALLELUJAH (Directed by Sue Corcoran, 1hr 40min) –– Four actors compete and are rejected for the role of Jesus in a new play. In a moment of sudden bonding, the misfits hit the psychedelic road on motorcycles and soon find themselves in a mess of backwoods, small town trouble. At first I didn’t want to like this film, but it quickly won me over with the consistently campy performances, humor, and madcap story –– a particular sequence in a redneck bar overrun with all brands of evil Elvis impersonators is quite funny and outrageous. But that’s merely the beginning of the ruthless insanity, which continues to spiral out of control with twisted and flamboyant Jesus freaks, immoral cops and clergy, lesbian love gone wild and witchy, and zombies that not only kill, but sing and dance too. No, I really can’t explain this one, you’re just going to have to see it. GORY GORY HALLELUJAH is a collage of all that is ridiculous, yet it works. Ed Wood and John Waters would be pleased –– if not proud –– I’m sure.

2:30pm: Shriekfest is starting to fill up at last. And my good friend, and actor extraordinaire, Tony Simmons (SCREAM FOR ME, MY SKIN) has also arrived. (Yes, I just touted my own films. Please forgive me.) Denise and Kimberlee announce the second group of shorts and we’re left to the savagery of the hungry darkness once again.

JOHNNY CAUTION (Written & Directed by Ed Fowler, 9min) –– A bounty hunter uncovers a plot to clone Hitler. Playing out like a movie trailer, JOHNNY CAUTION is well acted by Tommy Hawthorne, who reminds me of Jason Statham (SNATCH, THE TRANSPORTER). Hip shooting and editing on this one, as well. Very Guy Ritchie meets David Fincher. Could be a tight, intriguing feature, if the story was fleshed out a bit more. Not really horror, not really sci-fi, but a good job just the same.

FEAST (Written & Directed by George Newnam, 35min) –– Wife seeks revenge against husband by hiring cannibalistic marriage counselors. Again a film that is just way too long. Campy acting and EDWARD SCISSORHANDS rip-off score work well together at some points, but are incompatible in others. Not sure what director Newnam is really going for here. Inconsistent and over-the-top performances made me laugh out loud, but was I supposed to be laughing?

IT CAME FROM WITHIN! (Written & Directed by William McCleary, 6min) –– Ed Wood style super-short about a young couple who pop a pill and encounter an invasion by aliens, one of which torments them from within their own toilet. The alien is intentionally ludicrous and consequently quite hilarious. I won’t spoil the ending, but suffice it to say it takes a clever and humorous turn. And remember, kids, don’t do drugs!

CREEP (Written & Directed by Derek Frey & Aaron Tankenson, 3min) –– All I can say about this one is at least it was short.

APPETITE (Written & Directed by Terrence Ross, 27min) –– An aspiring screenwriter’s quest for success compromises his family. With a title like APPETITE you can be certain somebody is going to get eaten eventually. Too bad it takes 25 minutes to get down to dinner. One more film that needs some serious cutting, APPETITE nonetheless gets very strange and creepy toward the end. Although some might find writer/director Ross’ use of bad video-text overlays at various points in the film –– apparently to strike a juxtaposition of thoughts and actions –– artistic, I found them amateurish and distracting, a reminder that I was always watching a movie.

OFF DUTY (Written & Directed by Blake Horobin, 40min) –– Disturbing and entrancing film about two old school cops that take the new rookie on a weekend trip to their backwoods cabin for a little drinking, fishing, philosophizing, and hardcore torture. Very well acted by Terry King, Dean Aylesworth, Michael Macgillivray, and Karl Bedo. My only complaint is that director Horobin should have ended the film with the Kumbaya sequence (and added in his twist right then and there), instead of making me sit through 2 more endings, which only served to water down OFF DUTY’s brutal intensity.

4:35pm: The second big feature begins. Again I pray. But the title of this film alone scares the hell outta me...

THE INTERPLANETARY SURPLUS MALE & AMAZON WOMEN FROM OUTER SPACE (Directed by Sam Firstenberg, 1hr 26min) –– A sci-fi spoof of the adventures of a womanizing male who is kidnapped from earth and taken to a planet inhabited only by women to impregnate them and produce the next generation...

Oh Lord, why hath thou forsaken me? Get me outta here!!!!

4:50pm: Neither Wendy, Danilo, Tony, or I can endure another minute of THE INTERPLANETARY SURPLUS MALE. Jesus Christ! Talk about a movie going nowhere and taking too damn long to do it. Plenty of hot chicks, mind you, but the story, acting, and coverage is so lame I don’t even care. Escape! We must escape! And so we do, boldly and rudely leaving the Chaplin Theater to its own devices. Suffer all, but suffer me not! Feeling alien probed and cinematically violated, my team and I claw our way off the studio lot to get some dinner and a few drinks. And boy do I need a few drinks to wash Firstenberg’s masterpiece of extraterrestrial monotony out of my tormented mind.

6:30pm: The third feature film begins. I face it head on, hopefully protected by an impenetrable, double Skyy vodka martini force field. Oh, Scottie, if only I had a third. Ay, Captain, she’s already losing power!

LUCKY (Directed by Steve Cuden, 1hr 23min) WINNER-BEST HORROR FEATURE (1^st Place) –– Millard Mudd, a drunken failure of a cartoon writer, has his life transformed when he runs over a stray dog on a quick beer run. Guilt-ridden and panicked, Millard brings a bloody Lucky home and futilely attempts to nurse him back to health. It isn’t long, of course, before Lucky goes stiff. Millard, being such a lonely loser, keeps the dead dog in his bed for days, occasionally trying to revive him with lackadaisical, and hilarious, attempts at CPR. Finally giving up, Millard opts to bury Lucky in his backyard. But a miracle happens! And Lucky magically comes back to life –– or at least he does in Millard’s warped mind. Lucky can also talk now. He can even write cartoon scripts better than Millard could ever dream of doing alone. At Lucky’s behest a partnership is formed –– after all, Lucky does needed a typist to take down his dictation –– and the mind control begins. Soon enough, Millard is at Lucky’s mercy. But Lucky, as it turns out, is not only merciless, he’s a ruthless, sadistic tyrant who badgers Millard’s psyche until Millard cannot distinguish torture and murder from fun and fantasy. Expertly acted with sinister charm and morbid sentimentality by Michael Emanuel (as Millard Mudd) and David Reivers (as the voice of Lucky), this film nonetheless has to bow to the talent of screenwriter Stephen Sustarsic, whose narrative is eloquent, dark, funny, and wickedly insightful. This is definitely one to add your DVD collection, folks. Sadistically good fun!

8:10pm: Final short and final feature of the day. Gory, gory hallelujah! After nearly 12 hours straight of grim and grisly cinema, my weary eyes and brain are longing for the guillotine to fall. Please be sharp.

ROBOT RUMPUS (written & Directed by Jason Dunn, 19min) WINNER-BEST SCI-FI FILM (2^nd Place) –– A scientist creates a crude, yet sympathetic robot and then sends it to elementary school. As we all know, grade school can be hell, but for Kidbot it’s far worse –– he doesn’t look like anyone else, he doesn’t talk like anyone else, he doesn’t think like anyone else, and there’s not much chance he ever will, no matter how hard he tries. And Kidbot does try hard, making it quite clear that the worst handicap anyone can have in modern society is to be different. Director Dunn has skillfully and successfully taken the laughable and mechanical Kidbot, and shown him to be a sentient, tragic entity –– in all truth, a genuine human child. Poor Kidbot. :(

NEXT VICTIM (Directed by Timothy Gates, Jeff Solano & Michael Chamberlain, 1hr 24min) WNNER-BEST HORROR FEATURE (2^nd Place) –– Dr. Howard (Gunnar Hansen of TEXAS CHAINSAW MASCRE fame), the strange head of the Suncrest Mental Hospital tells the tale of 3 patients in what is supposed to be a horror comedy. What it really is, however, is one of the most pathetic and boring films I’ve ever seen. Not to mention the least funny. My God, NEXT VICTIM isn’t even humorous or frightening in a bad way. This one would have Ed Wood rolling over in his grave. The first installment, NUMB, was so mind numbing I can’t even remember what it was about. And hey, MONSTERCAM.COM fans, gratuitous gore, silly monsters, and bare breasts (no matter how well formed) do not a movie make! Nor does a locked off camera UNDER THE TABLE in an obviously staged cannibal film with painfully inane, rambling dialogue that seems to go on forever and ever. How this poorly acted steaming pile of crap won in the BEST HORROR FEATURE category is beyond me (Leatherface has legs, I guess –– wish I had a chainsaw!). Avoid this film, horror fans, unless you’re a masochistic moron and long to be the next victim of embarrassingly bad (hey, let’s try and stretch it into a feature) video. Again, chop this one down to size.

10:00pm: Well that’s it for day one at A.K.A Shriekfest, and this little piggie is running all the way home before he turns into bacon. Must get rest. Tomorrow evening MY SKIN (my flick) is up for public humiliation, and my own head will be on the chopping block. Guess I better wear a raincoat and an iron collared shirt.

Sunday, September 21^st

10:00am: Feeling déjà vu. Feeling all GROUNDHOG DAY. Been here before –– my madness is locked in a loop, in a loop, in a loop, in a... But now I’m sensing that loop breaking into a subtle spiral. And things are heading up instead of down. The Chaplin Theater is suddenly alive with souls hungry for horror, and for the first block of shorts to begin. Good news! (And good morning Denise and Kimberlee.) Sound the horns and launch the vanguard! Into Helm’s Deep we ride to do our last day’s battle. This fight will be to the death and no prisoners will be taken. All Orcs and Uruk-hai will be gored, crushed, and shredded. I’m ready, Rohirrim, open the gates!

HOT AND FRESH ENOUGH (Directed by Dave Bekerman, 17min) –– When a 23 year old slacker tries to appease his demanding roommate, he unwittingly embarks on a darkly comic, psychedelic, paranoid journey. In literal translation that means a lazy goofball with nothing to do but watch television and eat his roommate’s cereal happens across a cereal box full of cocaine, which he must get rid of immediately. How to do it, you might ask? Well snort it all yourself in a matter of a minute. Then spend the next several days tripping out and convalescing. Not sure how this film really fits into a horror/sci-fi fest –– guess Shriekfest thought they needed some silly Sunday morning entertainment. Although reasonably shot and edited, HOT AND FRESH is merely a mindless tale that goes nowhere. A perfect film for drunken frat and stoner parties.

RAY’S DAY (Written & Directed by Michael J. Stewart, 22min) –– Accompanied by his doctor and sister, Ray returns to the scene of the horrific car accident that left him mentally disabled. While there he uncovers an evil secret, and the blood spills. Well...the blood does finally spill, thank God, but up until then the slow pacing and lame, recurring dialogue about needing a cigarette or a light nearly put me to sleep. I felt like I was watching a soap opera for some small town cable access show. Brain injured Ray’s performance was fairly convincing, especially once he uncovered the “evil secret” –– of which I still don’t fully understand (some mention of a mysterious hitchhiker, I think). Anyway, I guess Ray just likes killing. Can’t fault him for that.

PAPER OR PLASTIC? (Written & Directed by Blake Horobin, 10min) WINNER-BEST SUPER SHORT (1^st Place) –– This is a monster movie with a plastic grocery bag that’s hell-bent on murdering an infant. Director Blake Horobin (of OFF DUTY infamy) has certainly toned it down here. PAPER OR PLASTIC? is a clever little piece of filmmaking that manages to create tension and good laughs. A worthy winner in the Super Short category.

ICE COLD (Written & Directed by Luke Belanger, 27min, French with English subtitles) –– Two estranged sisters are traveling together to visit their father at a secluded cottage, where terrifying events unfold. It seems the two sisters also have different mothers, one already dead and one that’s gone backwoods psycho and will stop at nothing to get her flesh-and-blood daughter back. ICE COLD is professional all the way down the line –– excellent cinematography, sound, acting, and a decent little story. ICE COLD is ready to be sold to HBO, Showtime, or any of the other majors. I especially liked the sisters, played by Brigitte Paquette and Caroline Neron, whose character portrayals were convincing and strong-willed –– something not often found in horror scream queens. From the beginning, Paquette and Neron are not afraid to strike the first blow or take the last stab. Also, a special thanks to writer/director Bellanger for keeping an expected happy ending far, far away.

GUILT (Written & Directed by Jefferson Brown, 30min) –– After a decade of guilt, Josh has finally forgiven himself for the unintentional shooting death of his best friend, but has he really? Sporting a strong hunting accident intro, campy acting and poor dialogue drag this film down quickly, turning it into a very mediocre TALES FROM THE CRYPT. One more time a film that needs a trip back to the cutting room, GUILT takes too long to get to its overblown ending.

REALITIES OF LOVE (Directed by Lisa Gold, 9min) –– A video camera displays a couple’s worst fears of each other. Is it reality, or something else? Clever story, but poor acting and amateurish camera work plague this film from start to finish. Even so, a quick pace keeps REALITIES OF LOVE lively and entertaining. A nice twist at the end lets us all know that hypothetical (and parallel) universes aside, fate is what it is and will do its worst.

12:00pm: Wendy and Danilo have already snuck off to pass out flyers advertising MY SKIN showing tonight. I hurry out to meet them for a quick turkey and cheese sandwich and a short break before the day’s first feature begins. After a mini interview with an odd bird from Hollywood Investigator, I cram the last of my uneaten lunch into my bag and we all rush back into the theater for 13 SECONDS.

13 SECONDS (Written & Directed by Jeff Thomas, 1hr 33min) –– A sprawling turn of the century academy, a Billboard charts band fueled by deceit, and an art gallery that comes to life with graphics of each character dying a horrible death. Oh boy, and I thought NEXT VICTIM was awful. 13 SECONDS is a JACOB’S LADDER/ANGEL HEART rip-off that takes bad filmmaking to new lows. In fact, it’s the most monotonous, blandly acted, badly written, mundanely shot, god-awful sounding, cheesily scored film I’ve ever seen. Running at 1 hour & 33 minutes, 13 SECONDS would have been better at the length its title suggests. By the time this evil excuse for a movie was finally over and I crawled from the theater with blood running from my eyes and ears, well...in all truth I really did have this amazingly dull, throbbing numbness in the forefront of my brain. I was certain I would not be able to return to the festival without first hunting down writer/director Jeff Thomas and demanding back the lifeforce his film had drained from me. I mean no human could possibly make a movie this terrible, it had to be a sick joke, or some clever new way to mentally torture and brainwash unsuspecting film fans. If you think I’m being hostile, well I am! 13 SECONDS has stolen what seemed like 13 years of my life, which I’ll never get back. My God, I’m getting another headache just thinking about it. Although I know it’s too late to make any friends with this review, I will give 13 SECONDS one good mark: it had a really nice poster.

2:15pm: Back in the Chaplin Theater Wendy, Danilo, and I (still trembling and tweaking from the brain hemorrhage inflicted by 13 SECONDS) wait for the day’s second group of shorts. Do your damnedest filmmakers, but don’t you dare bore me!

RED LINES (Written & Directed by Frazer Lee, 6min) –– A young schoolgirl has been caught running in the hallway again, and her detention turns into a nightmare. Doug Bradley (HELLRAISER I, II, III and beyond) stars with icy demeanor in this super short that gets right to the point –– a creepy little tale that puts scholastic penal systems in a grim, new light. Just imagine a detention where you are confronted by the grisly ghosts of those that have come before, warning you that you will never leave. Nicely done.

IMOGEN (Directed by John Martin & Nate Michael, 18min) –– Five students travel to a cabin for some rest & relaxation. A serial killer escapes from prison & shows up at their door. IMOGEN offers some tension and some laughs, but exploits all the familiar slasher clichés in doing so. Nothing new here.

A FINE LINE (Written & Directed by Machael Klima, 6min) –– A story about a man trapped in his own bathroom because of a fear of going outside. A series of events land him in a mental institution where one twisted ending begins. Hmmmmm...first of all that confusing little synopsis was straight from the filmmakers, not me. Also, I thought he was trapped in his house, not specifically his bathroom. With that out of the way, A FINE LINE comes across as an artsy student film intercut with TV news hosted by slowly deteriorating news anchors who are really just bad actors delivering mediocre dialogue that just isn’t very funny. The more graphic decay of the lead actor is effective, but doesn’t seem to fit with the bland and hammy news footage. Writer/director Klima has created an unfocused short that doesn’t really hit its mark. (Whatever that is.)

NOODLE (Written & Directed by John Sweeney, 6min) –– A man is awakened from a trance by a voice in his soup that forces him to trace his path from a holding cell back to his life as a drifter. Again, not too sure about that synopsis, but I liked the grainy B&W look of this film. No real dialogue, but effective visuals that made me think of old institutional training films. All in all, an interesting brainwash short that shows the eerie power of big brother –– either eat soup, or be soup.

ON EDGE (Written & Directed by Frazer Lee, 15min) WINNER-BEST HORROR SHORT (3^rd Place) –– Peter Thurlow, an angry businessman arrives at the dentist without an appointment. He gets more than he bargained for in the dental chair. Doug Bradley (HELLRAISER I, II, III) is perfectly cast as the sublime, mad dentist in this well written tale that proves that economy of camera coverage in conjunction with an excellent, subdued performance can be more intriguing and intense than any big budget, multi-angle action thriller. My only complaint is the unnecessary Goth club sequence that bookends the film. It’s completely out of place, and only serves to undermine the horrific, Clive Barker-esque money shot that should have been the real end of the movie.

BLACK (Written & Directed by Jake Kennedy, 7min) –– A couple returns from their only son’s funeral to find that something terrible has happened. Kin to Poe’s PREMATURE BURIAL, BLACK is a grim little story that implies more than it tells, keeping the viewer’s focus on the anticipated exhumation scene slightly off balance. More simply put, the tension in the film not only stems from what you know will result in the revelation that the couple’s son was interred prematurely, but from the silent contention and suspicions that play out between the mother and father, ultimately resulting in an unexpected, violent, and satisfying ending.

BLACK GULCH (Written & Directed by Michael Strode, 15min) WINNER-BEST HORROR SHORT (1^st Place) –– Bank robbers roll into town ready to pull a quick heist to break in the new guy, but find the bank empty and the town deserted...except for a small boy who has mastered control of his own personal Grim Reaper, and uses the monster to destroy all who get in his way. A modern day retelling of the old Twilight Zone episode, IT’S A GOOD LIFE (teleplay by Rod Serling, based on a short story by Jerome Bixby), BLACK GULCH is a lively and entertaining film. Although not stylistically original, writer/director Michael Strode has managed to produce a wholly professional work, with excellent cinematography, sound, editing, and acting. The performance by Christopher Bradley as the lead bank robber is particularly well done –– macho tough without being hammy. Unfortunately, BLACK GULCH does fall short of IT’S A GOOD LIFE in the dark and creepy department, but it nonetheless makes up for its lack of eeriness with well-staged action and good fun. But what I like best about BLACK GULCH is that it took me on an entire feature-length journey in only 15 minutes. Now that’s something most shorts never do.

SWEET KISSES AND STITCHES (Written & Directed by Andrew Lobel, 9min) –– Shunned by his beautiful wife, a mortician turns to the corpses he embalms for the love and attention he isn’t getting at home. A well shot and acted film, SWEET KISSES is erotic and macabre, eerie and dark, and is laced with an unsettling innocence that is subtly and sympathetically portrayed by actor Mark Peters as the lonely mortician. Tasteful, yet gruesome, makeup F/X also contribute nicely to the morbid fantasies that meld into the murderous act that becomes the reality of this film.

4:00pm: The second feature of the day begins.

NO RETURN (Written & Directed by Tom Sylla, 1hr 27min) –– Following her husband’s death, a young woman gets involved with another man, but begins to fear her husband’s spirit is returning from the grave to claim her. In my opinion, and the opinion of others I spoke with, NO RETURN should have been the 2^nd Place winner in the Best Feature category. Sorry to say it wasn’t even mentioned, but crimes are committed every day and go unpunished. Although the film is blandly shot and lit, with rough sound, it is well acted and offers an intriguing story that gets very creepy. The pacing is slow and deliberate in the style of THE SIXTH SENSE, and effectively serves to lure the viewer deeper and deeper into the moment –– even making me jump out of my seat with a good scare just when I least expected it. Granted NO RETURN could do with a bit of trimming, and the supernatural special F/X near the climax are cheesy, but the overall package sells the show. My only real complaint is that NO RETURN needed NO twist to wrap up the grand finale. Even so, good job writer/director Tom Sylla. At the end of the day, a solid, intriguing story can override the technical shortcomings of most any film.

5:40pm: To restroom, to restroom, and back again. Denise and Kimberlee announce the next block of shorts. My eyes are shrinking in their sockets and my brain is turning to jelly.

FINAL APPOINTMENT (Directed by Michelle Deal, 9min) WINNER-BEST SUPPER SHORT (2^nd Place) –– A campy romp into late night psychiatry that finds a sexy shrink willing to go to deceitful (and legendary) lengths to cure her lycanthopic and vampiric patients. This one won’t change your life, but it’s a fun little film just the same.

MIME AFTER MIDNIGHT (Written & Directed by Armondo D. Munoz, 24min) –– After missing her bus, a young woman is stalked by a psychotic, murderous mime. Although a clever and funny story with a campy, gruesome ending MIME AFTER MIDNIGHT could use some trimming in the middle –– i.e., too much stalking, not enough cut to the chase. Overall a brilliant premise for a short film, and the Mime is quite good. Worth checking out.

THE JERSEY DEVIL (Written & Directed by Nicholas Peter Grace, 14min) –– Three friends on a camping trip discover that there is more to local superstition than they previously believed. Not poorly done, but does the world really need another college kids in the woods get slaughtered by the local legend one by one? Cute girls, though.

TRANSFER (Written & Directed by John Turbyne, 24min) WINNER-BEST SCI-FI FILM (1^st Place) –– Professor Telven, the last of the great robotic engineers, discovers his old friend, Father Love, is becoming President. Telven sets out to stop the leader of the Church of Humanity from destroying what is left of the already fragile Earth Government. Hmmmm...I guess that happens, but there’s certainly a lot more going on in this film than the synopsis states. Professor Telven is also a known rebel, traveling with an illegal robotic replica of his lost wife, and whose mind Telven holds in illicit storage with his unwitting son on Earth. The transfer of these human memories into a robotic entity is also apparently against the prevailing laws. (I hope I got all that right. Anyway...) Human preservation by uploading/downloading the content of someone’s brain into a cybernetic organism is really what TRANSFER is all about. (Again I hope I got that right. This film has a complicated story.) Personally I prefer my sci-fi to have a little harder edge on it (a la TERMINATOR, ALIEN 3), but writer/director John Turbyne has done a very good job in creating a silky smooth science fiction fantasy. Also, very nicely shot, scored, cut, and acted by Herb Parks (as Professor Telvin) and Katrina Stormer (as Telvin’s robotic wife).

CALLOUS SENTIMENT (Written & Directed by Vincent Grashaw, 13min) –– A young boy observes random acts of violence at an abandoned playground. I myself still can’t decide if these acts are real or only in the mind of the boy, convincingly (and eerily) portrayed by Jeremy Pryer. Of course, the uncertainty of what is real or isn’t real is what gives CALLOUS SENTIMENT its dark humor and brutal charm. The more the boy visits the playground and observes increasingly savage crimes, the more he becomes infatuated with the violence, and the more his own sanity begins to disintegrate into fits of gruesome fantasy. Fantasies that ultimately spiral out of control until he desires to commit (and contribute) his own bloody act of murder. Again, is it all real or merely the hallucinations of a young serial killer in the making? Maybe it’s the playground that’s to blame? Or maybe the entire film is simply a metaphor for the evil that lurks just beneath the façade of innocence fronting most suburban neighborhoods. Watch this film and you decide. But don’t go to the playground alone.

7:15pm: Just 25 minutes until the final group of shorts begins –– the third in the lineup being MY SKIN. Oh boy, the Grim Reaper swoops in at last. I can feel him looming overhead, but I try to ignore his icy pall. I need some food, but don’t really feel like eating. Don’t really want to talk to anyone either –– just get some air and keep a low profile in case my flick bombs big time. Damn it’s gotten cold outside the Chaplin Theater, which is beginning to look more like a chamber of horrors with each passing moment. Tic!...toc!...tic!...toc! –– I swear I can hear everyone’s watch ticking in unison, counting down to my hour of doom (which is now only 10 minutes off). I can hear everyone around me happily chatting away, but their voices seem to grow more distant and nightmarish with every gust of the frigid breeze. Ah! Tony Simmons (star of MY SKIN) suddenly drops down beside me –– just arrived for the screening. If only I didn’t have to review the rest of Shriekfest I could flee now and forget all about this madness. My sister Wendy offers me the last half of her sandwich –– I decline, then accept, then decline, then accept. Maybe some food will ease my swelling paranoia. And some of that chocolate brownie too. Whatta ya mean it’s time for the shorts to start? I rise...and I move slowly toward the gallows –– Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil... (Yeah, right.)

7:40pm: The Chaplin Theater is full. Next to me sits Tony, Wendy, Danilo, and Steve Cudan (Dir. LUCKY). (I’m feeling like Millard Mudd right now, a homicidal loser.) The final shorts are announced by Denise and Kimberlee. (Mmmmmmm, I wonder how they’d look, naked and tied to a post, my hands around their throats?) The lights go down. (What’s that, Lucky? You think they’d look nice? Me too.)

HARMLESS (Written & Directed by Dmitry Burdein, 17min) –– Unable to confront his unfaithful wife, a man visits an illegal cyber club to vent his rage in a virtual act of murder. An interesting film, this, however a bit slow and cerebral and with no real ending. I had hoped for more of a punch line.

THE MECHANIC (Written & Directed by Javier Barbera, 13min, Spanish with English subtitles) –– Three drug crazed youths make an unplanned pitstop at an auto repair shop. However, the repairs will cost them more than cash. Although still a bit long even at a scant 13 minutes, writer/director Barbera has nonetheless created a well-shot, intense little serial killer piece. The film is also well acted by all (Gantcho Motchev, Ana Lluch, Norman Mora, and Urania Molin). The sledgehammer-wielding mechanic is especially good, delivering an excellent, vicious, and funny performance right up to the last minute –– which results in one of the most simple, yet satisfying and laugh out-loud endings I’ve seen in the mad killer genre. Check it out.

8:10pm: THE MECHANIC’s end credits finish rolling and the theater is again dark. MY SKIN is up next, and my own skin is suddenly crawling with spiders. My hands are ice cold, my palms are sweating, and I can feel the noose tightening around my neck...and the guillotine poised to fall...and the big butcher knife rising up to strike...and The Mechanic lurking somewhere nearby, waiting patiently with his bloody sledgehammer if all else fails to kill me...and then suddenly the DVD menu pops up on the big screen, freakishly illuminating the audience of zombies hungry to devour me and my film...and at last MY SKIN begins...

MY SKIN (Written & Directed by Christopher Alan Broadstone, 13min) WINNER-BEST HORROR SHORT (2^nd Place)!

8:23pm: I hear applause and I can finally breathe again as MY SKIN’s end credits roll, and Brian Sussman’s haunting vocal from IN THE MOONLIGHT washes over me. My God, I’m still alive.

8:30pm: The final feature (and film) of A.K.A Shriekfest 2003 begins.

DIRECTOR’S CUT (Directed by Eric G. Stacy, 1hr 29min) –– The new wave of horror meets reality TV as Brittany Jordan and three young friends have been invited to appear in Cole Wilder’s new horror film. What Brittany and her friends don’t know is that Wilder and his brother, Meth, are psycho killers who plan to slice and dice their cast on live TV. The makers of DIRECTOR’S CUT would also like us horror fans to believe that this film is a parody of B-horror movies from the 70s, which features off-beat humor and gorgeous young Hollywood hopefuls ready to do anything in order to become famous. Well, I can certainly agree with the latter. Hmmmmmm...hmmmmm...so you want my review, do you? Well let me tell you something. After 39 reviews, all be them short, I am sick and tired of writing reviews. I want to make movies, not write about them. Besides, this film is made by old industry hacks that don’t give one crap about what I think. And neither should you. If you want to know more about this load of tripe, go to:

www.landfallprods.com

10:00pm: The Awards Ceremony begins. Frantically I try to scribble down who and what films are winning what, then suddenly I’m scribbling the name of my own film as winner of BEST HORROR SHORT (2^nd Place)! I can’t believe it and think I must have heard something wrong. I’m sure my brain has finally folded in on itself after sitting through nearly 24 hours of films over the last two days –– but no, Tony is pushing me out of my chair, convincing me MY SKIN is a winner. I hurry down to the stage below the screen where Denise and Kimberlee are smiling grandly and holding up my little black tombstone-shaped award (engraved with all the necessary info to prove MY SKIN really did win) and a red bag of extra goodies. Both Denise and Kimberlee put their arms around me, and pictures are taken. Wow...do I suddenly feel great! I feel like a real person and not a monster wasting away in his own cinematic obscurity and filmic waste. As I float back to my seat, grinning from ear to ear, I realize all of my homicidal fears and mad paranoia have exploded into a night I’ll never forget.

On their website, A.K.A Shriekfest claims to be “a film festival dedicated to discovering new and overlooked artists” and to celebrating “the art of filmmaking without all of the politics!” Well, the bottom line is this:

A.K.A Shriekfest is truly one of the few film festivals with a heart. And probably the only one in Hollywood without an attitude –– or an infestation of rabid hypocrisy disguised as: the artist’s power to the people. Shriekfest really is power to the people –– to the filmmaker –– and Denise Gossett and Kimberlee Beason genuinely do care about filmmakers and filmmaking; and they’re working hard to break the mold of film festivals. When you go to Shriekfest, it’s like going home for a long awaited visit. You’re truly appreciated and loved, in spite of any warts or handicaps you might have. I hope that 2 or 3 years down the road Shriekfest remains an event focused on filmmakers supporting filmmakers –– as so many fests proclaim. And I say, keep the riffraff out!!! When Universal, Paramount, Fox, MGM, United Artists, Touchstone, and Dreamworks come to the gate at Raleigh Studios hoping to catch a glimpse of what is spreading like Triffids at A.K.A Shriekfest, the message they get is:

ACCESS DENIED! ACCESS DENIED!

Oh well, wishful thinking. But it’s a deliciously pleasant nightmare.

Best wishes to all the filmmakers at Shriekfest, and congratulations to all the winners. I’ll see ya in hell!

Sincerely,

Christopher Alan Broadstone

Ps: Thanks again to Denise Gossett and Kimberlee Beason for a memorable fest (and I’m not saying that just because I won an award). (Yeah, I know, no one’s going to believe that.)

Sunday, September 21st

Award Winners at A.K.A Shriekfest 2003

Sunday, September 21^st