A few years ago, a wonderful documentary called Also Starring Austin (2018) used movie clips to immortalize the landscapes of Austin, Texas through the various films that’ve been shot on location there over the years. Some were popular, many not so recognizable. John Spottswood Moore’s When We Were Live attempts some of the same things, but this documentary is more vivid in capturing the sights, sounds, and feelings of Austin through its public access television channel in the 80’s and 90’s. From the weird and wild to the informative and boundary-pushing, public television was ground zero for alternative personalities and ideas…. and it’s a treasure trove. It’s cool to revel in Austin’s iconic cityscapes on-screen, but ultimately more necessary to preserve the beating-heart underbelly of the people that drive individuality and conscience within our communities. When We Were Live does this beautifully.
A ten-year process of sifting through archival footage and editing all of this madness into coherent themes, When We Were Live charts everything from the comical to the serious. One of the film’s strong suits is its anthropological magnificence, revealing that there’s room for both types of emotions. Swerving between clips of political activist Gilbert Rivera mournfully documenting the destruction of murals attached to the first Mexican-American college in Texas to the anarchic comedy of one Carmen Banana, When We Were Live never loses focus on the breadth of personalities that came alive through their unfettered access to the boob tube airwaves. It also shows the evolution of public access television’s confidence in expanding on its themes- whether that involved the slow progression of sexiness in something like “Ask Olivia Live” where its host Olivia Squires moved from prim question and answer to lying in fetching dresses and stockings on a couch….. or how important alternative news information could be conveyed when events such as a KKK march took place in downtown Austin. When We Were Live proves the revolution could be televised no matter if it was personal or global.
Through it all, it’s important to remember the images and people all shown here aren’t ancient history. Many of them are still alive and active in the Austin community today and Moore’s finale gives the actual participants a chance to be re-born again in front of another adoring audience. Some realize their significance while others don’t. Seeing them talk about their experiences today is a nice touch to the very human side of technology. One of the best films at this year’s festival so far, every city needs to unlock the vaults and discover just what loony, irreverent, or salient things are hiding in the recesses of their own cable cords.
_____________________________________________________________
As trauma horror, writer-director Majid Al-Ansari’s The Vile is interesting. As a straight-up haunted house horror flick, it’s even better for the way it effectively utilizes jump scares, lighting, and sound design to burrow under the skin.
All of the spooky stuff begins in the household when Amani (Bdoor Mohammad) is blindsided by the revelation that her husband has brought home a second wife Zahra (Sarah Taibah). The upheaval extends to the couple’s teenage daughter Noor (Iman Tarik) as well, dealing with her own problems of being bullied at school for her withdrawn attitude and artistic ability. As if the insult of being replaced by another woman isn’t injury enough, it’s gleefully revealed that Zahra is pregnant with the additional child Amani is unable to give her husband.
With all this added pressure and psychological damage, it’s no coincidence that all the mysterious happening begin once Amani’s seat in the household is usurped. Lights and doors work by themselves. Visions of something sinister lurking in the shadowy margins come and go. And Zahra’s influence over the two women twists into something sinister. Through it all, The Vile builds tension slowly in creating a metaphor as both mother and daughter find their daily lives unmoored by the new houseguest.
Winner of the festival’s award for Best Horror Film (which is always a touch competition), I suspect The Vile earned this achievement for its practical effects and low-key chills. It’s a film that will play well in theaters and earns its atmosphere, placing the horrors inside a culture that rarely gets the genre treatment.
_____________________________________________________________
All of the films playing at Fantastic Fest are given sections and descriptors. Some are tagged with “gruesome kills” while other sport things like “strong women”. Hash tagged and catalogued within an inch of their lives, it makes choices easier at times. The ones denoted “art house gone wild” felt especially appealing to me (see my thoughts on The Ice Tower from a previous post) and I’ve made a concerted effort to seek them out.
Another entry into this demanding division is Patrick Syversen’s Dawning. Technically brilliant but at times head-scratching difficult to parse out exactly what the meaning is, it’s a film that attempts to blend the psychological intensity of healing and memory with the more sadistic shades of evil within the world.
Two sisters, Cecilia (Silje Storstein) and Esther (Marte Magnusdotter Solem) travel to a remote cabin the in the woods to join third sister Cristina (Kathrine Thorborg Johansen) and help her recover from a recent suicide attempt. Things get complicated when they receive bad news from home, and then things get even stranger when a man named Lukas (Thorbjorn Harr) begins appearing at the cabin.
It’s safe to say that where Dawning begins- a hermetic series of conversations and direct to camera confessionals that feels closer to perennial art house classics- shifts dramatically to where it ends up. Wandering into some fairly bleak violence, this is one of those films that establishes some interesting characters fighting some moral choices that ultimately shifts gears and places them in sickening circumstances later. Honestly, Dawning is two distinct films whose smashed-together timelines makes me wish it would have stayed the course with the characters from the first half. Just as I growing involved in their family dynamics, the film disrupts an already complicated narrative in favor of something more torturous that feels needlessly exploitative and reductive. Sometimes, the drama of tough decisions can be just as affecting as the end of a knife.
Fantastic Fest continues through September 25th. For tickets and information, visit http://www.fantasticfest.com
Dallas Film Now. 