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Fantastic Fest 2017: ‘Revenge’ Is Definitive Retribution Filmmaking

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How many rape revenge films have been made by men? And how many of those films have been about female rape survivors? The answer is really, really close to all of them, and as such, the tension between sexual violence and sexual arousal has been an uncomfortable mainstay of this subgenre. Though there are some examples better than others, it is strange that this particular violent fantasy has so frequently been appropriated by men, but in her debut feature, Revenge, Coralie Fargeat offers one woman’s take on the genre — and she fully justifies adopting the generic title by both investigating the nature of the form itself, and making an absolutely riveting exemplar.

The film opens as Richard (Kevin Janssens) arrives at his secluded desert getaway via helicopter with his mistress, Jenn (Matilda Anna Ingrid Lutz). He plays the part of sensitive, fun-loving elite, with her in the role of tarted-up bimbo, and both enjoy their fantasy of escape in Richard’s modern ranch home. Their fantasy is interrupted when two armed men — Richard’s hunting buddies — arrive early. After an initial fright, Jenn easily tweaks her eye-candy routine to serve the larger audience. But the morning after a night of drinking and playful flirtation, Jenn finds herself cornered and then raped by one of the men. When Richard finds out, she asks him to send her home, and he refuses, instead trying to bribe her with an expense account and new life in Canada. Jenn, uninterested in a pay-off, demands Richard fly her home or risk his wife discovering his dalliance. Richard, uninterested in comprising, fills with rage. A chase ensues, the hunters adopt a new quarry, and Jenn adapts to her new predicament.

A distorted vision of the desert reflected in Richard’s sunglasses serves as the film’s opening shot; we are obviously entering this man’s domain, and director Coralie Fargeat spends the film’s first 15 minutes of Revenge lavishly aping the male gaze. The camera glides over Lutz’ body, returning continually to her ass and making an uncomfortable spectacle of her manicured sexuality. Little differentiates these opening scenes from, say, similar scenes in Michael Bay movies, but Fargeat simply persists, pushing beyond normalized on-screen lechery and implicating the audience in her spectacle. It’s a very strong choice, and paired with the distinct behaviors of the three men, invokes a critique of a culture that mitigates the inherent violence of patriarchal dominance.

It helps make Jenn’s transformation so completely satisfying; she isn’t blindly committed to reprisal, but it is the three men, violated by her insolence, who create further conditions of violence. They stand between her and survival, but she is really good at surviving — delivering comeuppance is more of a satisfying side-effect. The bloodthirsty men are sick for revenge against a woman who defied their assumptions and bore witness to their monstrosity, but Jenn demonstrates handily that it is not the men who make the hunter, but the hunt. As she proves her resourcefulness in the desert, Jenn’s previous role is cast in new light: she has experience improvising in hostile environments because her environment has always been hostile.

Lutz plays her role exceptionally well, portraying a woman not defined by survival but by her resourcefulness. Revenge’s world is heightened, but Lutz grounds it in Jenn’s human struggle. Janssen also does wonderfully as well as privilege incarnate, and until the bitter end, is steadfast in his perceived omnipotence. We spend a lot of time with the men in this movie, and its a credit to the cast that exploring the psychology of these cowardly, sick people is bearable at all. Fargeat also has fun exploiting their monstrosity for welcome humor.

Underpinning everything is Fargeat’s masterful craftsmanship. She has absolute command of tension and triumphant release, and takes sick, infectious, glee in blood and guts (if it was unclear, this is not a film for novice gore-hounds). But Fargeat targets her ire appropriately, and while gruesome violence is excessive (and occasionally cheeky), it never feels gratuitous or unearned. She also has a lot of fun with convention, as when Jenn accidentally gives herself a badass tattoo while cauterizing a wound, or when a tense confrontation is punctuated by the inane persistence of an infomercial. Though playful and experimental, Revenge is ultimately a film about vindicating its hero, and Fargeat knows this. By the final frames, she has spilled far more blood than logically possible, but a drop less would be disingenuous.

Fantastic Fest runs September 21st – 28th. Visit the festival’s official website.

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Emmet Duff is a small town Ohioan living in Austin, TX. When he's not writing about film, he cares for plants, takes pictures, and goes exploring.

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Fantastic Fest

‘4×4’ Starts Steady, but Slips When Changing Gears

Fantastic Fest 2019

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When focused and self-contained, Mariano Cohn’s 4×4 slowly accelerates until seemingly primed to peel out toward a hectic finale. However, its attempt to finally peel out in telling the story of a small-time Argentinian thief held prisoner inside a deathtrap SUV, the film ultimately careens off the road into broader, muddled social issues that never quite ram home. 

4x4 movie

After cleverly breaking into a parked, pristine vehicle in an upscale Buenos Aires neighborhood, a young man named Ciro takes pleasure in swiping the stereo and urinating on the back seat. It’s clear he is making a statement against the haves in favor of the have-nots, while at the same time imagining himself in the kind of lifestyle that possesses such a smoothly upholstered vehicle and the chic sunglasses that come with it. The petty heist turns on a dime, however, as Ciro soon discovers that the SUV’s doors will not open, the windows don’t break, and there is effectively no way out of this machine.

After stupidly wounding himself in the leg while trying to shoot his way out (though somehow not suffering the deafness that would surely follow), Ciro receives a call from the owner: the calm voice on the other end of the line has been the victim of too many assaults and robberies to simply stand by anymore, and has decided to take matters into his own hands. He has created a trap, and has no intention of letting this street punk get away with something for which he feels society has far too long turned a blind eye to. Ciro is here to suffer for his sins, and over the course of the next fews days and nights, slow suffering is just what 4×4 depicts.

At first, the resourceful Ciro roots around like a caged animal, testing any possible weaknesses in his posh cell. A few cursory lines fill him and the audience in on how simple solutions to this predicament, like banging on the windows at passersby or honking the horn, won’t draw anyone’s attention — even the occasional ticket-giving police officer — and as long as viewers can buy into the albeit flawed logic of the premise, 4×4 rolls along as a smooth ride. Without food or water, Ciro’s rebelliousness is slowly broken down, and he is forced to engage with a mysterious man whose ultimate endgame is still somewhat unclear.

The first two-thirds of 4×4 takes place almost exclusively inside the vehicle, eliciting a growing tension from the claustrophobia. The confined space at times can feel suffocating even to those merely watching, though Cohn certainly keeps the visuals from getting dull by consistently finding new angles from which to shoot. That variety is of extreme importance during that first hour, as it not only prevents the same boredom that Ciro experiences from setting in on the audience, but also cleverly constructs the space to a point where viewers can practically sketch the layout of the vehicle from memory, giving the film a great (if somewhat intentionally torturous) you-are-there feel.

Throughout, Peter Lanzani admirably holds the camera’s attention as the increasingly beleaguered Ciro, managing to portray street-sharpened instincts beneath layers of general dimwittedness. He also finely balances Ciro’s foggy version of morality against earning sympathy for someone who is essentially still a violent criminal. It’s a turn that earns more respect as 4×4 goes on, as Lanzani simultaneously shows his darker side while reflexively casing potential neighborhood victims, yet also depicts an inner tenderness in his interactions with a chirping cricket that happens to be riding shotgun.

4x4 trapped

Where 4×4 ultimately stalls is in its final act, which opens up the scope to the point that the film’s engine becomes flooded. Cohn is working with complex social issues here, but tries to wrap things up too fast and too neatly. The introduction of the tormentor, up to then a mere voice that’s both warm and chilling at the same time, ultimately backfires in a series of diatribes from both both sides of the problem. These platitudes are too tidy to be effective, and land with a resounding thud.

Still, the simmering that precedes the fizzle showcases how much can be done with so little. 4×4 can’t maintain an entire trip on cruise control, but while that tense, claustrophobic ride lasts, its an entertaining one.

Fantastic Fest runs September 19 – September 26. Visit the official website for more information.

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Fantastic Fest

Stripped Down: ‘You Don’t Nomi’ Discussing the Polarizing Viewpoints of 1995 Cult Film ‘Showgirls’

Fantastic Fest 2019

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you don't nomi documentary

Showgirls has a notorious reputation as the most over-the-top, un-erotic erotic thriller in recent years. What was intended to be a career-making, hard-hitting drama that unveiled the dark gritty truth of life as a Vegas showgirl turned out to be an awkwardly acted, poorly written exploitation film disguised as a Lynchian satire that has been reviled and mocked by critics and viewers alike. However, it has garnered a fairly large cult following for its value as a so-bad-it’s-good camp classic. Filmmaker Jeffrey McHale has produced a feature-length video essay that cleverly discusses whether or not Showgirls is a masterpiece or a ‘piece of shit,’ and more importantly, how it can be both. 

You Don’t Nomi covers the basic arguments used to defend Showgirls, such as how the entertainingly campy acting and melodramatic writing has gained it a ‘guilty pleasure’ status and a large following in the LGBT community. However, Jeffrey McHale goes deeper into the inner workings of the film’s creative choices by comparing them to the other films of Dutch director Paul Verhoeven. Verhoeven’s previous work at the time included the ultraviolent sci-fi satires RoboCop (1987) and Total Recall (1990). What truly put him on the map in the U.S. however, was the blockbuster erotic thriller Basic Instinct in 1992, earning over $300 million despite mixed reviews. You Don’t Nomi argues that critics appreciated Verhoeven’s films when they satirized society with plenty of violence and just enough sex to titillate the audience. However, when sexuality was front and center with violence creeping in the background, audiences labeled him a pervert. The documentary compares recurring themes and visuals in several of Verhoeven’s films ranging from women vomiting, the use of mirrors, strong depictions of sexual violence, and political satire, trying to prove that Verhoeven is an auteur in his own right. Whether or not the audience is convinced remains to be seen. 

One may never believe that a schlocky film like Showgirls could have any emotional impact on a person. However, it did for New York actress April Kidwell. In an interview, Kidwell discusses dealing with severe post-traumatic stress after a sexual assault. She was eventually cast in back-to-back Elizabeth Berkeley roles as the Off-Broadway musical version of Jessie Spano and Nomi Malone. Despite the campy, parodic nature of her performance in Showgirls: The Musical!, Kidwell found empowerment and catharsis in her role, raising the argument that Nomi Malone was a symbol of feminist self-empowerment and sexuality. Her story brings much more heart than one would have predicted in a documentary mostly compiling drag shows and corny Joe Estzerhas dialogue. 

You Don’t Nomi easily could have been a run-of-the-mill YouTube video discussing standard arguments any cult film lover would have already known and been bored hearing again. However, McHale digs deep with critics, scholars, hardcore fans, actors, and writers to create a new level of discourse on such a seemingly silly topic. The film doesn’t necessarily choose a side and therefore can sometimes appear to lack direction but overall it makes for a fascinating watch and might encourage you to sit through Showgirls again. 

Fantastic Fest runs September 19 – September 26. Visit the official website for more information.

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Fantastic Fest

‘Ride Your Wave’ Ebbs and Flows Between a Sickly Sweet Love Story and Poignant Coming-of-Age Tale

Fantastic Fest 2019

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Masaaki Yuasa’s latest anime, Ride Your Wave, starts off as a simple enough boy-meets-girl love story. However, the cutesy ukulele duets and handholding are over as quickly as they began, as devastation brings the summer loving to a crashing halt. Soon, the budding romance educes a journey of self-empowerment and healing in times of loneliness, loss, and unobtainable love. 

Hinako Mukaimizu (Rina Kawaei) is an inspiring oceanographer whose clumsiness is far too insufferable to be endearing. However, as uncoordinated as she is on land, she is as effortlessly graceful on a surfboard, capturing the attention and admiration of onlooking firefighters Minato (Ryota Katayose) and Wasabi. Minato and Hinako bond over a nostalgic J-Pop song called “Brand New Story” that eventually becomes their love anthem, and the catchy earwig that will inevitably make you hum along through your grit teeth. Hinako is immediately impressed that Minato is seemingly good at everything except surfing, and begins to teach him how to ride the waves.

Ride Your Wave

These surf sequences really emphasize the marvel of the hand drawn animation, as the vibrant cerulean waves take on a life of their own to the point that the ocean is a character itself. Hinako soon finds herself all alone with nothing but the ocean and “Brand New Story” to comfort her through a coping mechanism that treads the line between grief-stricken delirium and magical realism. Meanwhile, Minato is stuck between worlds, and finds new life in various bodies of water, lingering as a ghost in the machine — or more specifically, a ghost in an inflatable finless porpoise. 

The title Ride Your Wave refers not only to the literal surf lessons throughout the film, but the message to Hinako that she needs to stand tall on her own, which goes with the proverbial flow to endure whatever may come. The metaphor is a bit on the nose, and tends to hit the audience over the head, but it is a valid moral taught in a clever depiction. Throughout the film, Hinako struggles with basic adult tasks like cooking eggs, whereas Minato can expertly cook and brew his own coffee. At its core, Ride Your Wave is Hinako’s coming-of-age story — not only by showing her emotional trials and occupational struggles, but also her transition from being an awkward college student into a fully formed young woman. 

Hinako and Minato’s love story is a wholesome, tender, surprisingly chaste romance considering that they cannot touch for the majority of Ride Your Wave. What truly links them together is that they are each other’s hero, admiring and relying on one another for different reasons. They have an endearing give-and-take relationship, ebbing and flowing like the ocean they fell in love in. 

Ride Your Wave is an endearing effort that has a tremendous amount of heart in the face of a somber subject. Once you move past the hackneyed metaphors and mawkish puppy love, it is a mature story about growing up and finding light in a dark point in one’s life. Life is full of ups and downs. Might as well enjoy the ride. 

Fantastic Fest runs September 19 – September 26. Visit the official website for more information.

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