Fantastic Fest 2008: Vinyan, Seventh Moon, South of Heaven

Fantastic Fest completed its first weekend with a fulsillade of sell-outs, outrageous all-night parties, and a mixed bag of films. Mack has been churning out great reviews, in between dispensing nuggets of personal wisdom as we travel together each day, Swarez pumps out great reviews and then turns around and sings a priceless karaoke version of "Rhinestone Cowboy" at five in the morning, and I am happy to be a designated driver and thus promote the virtues of sobriety.

But what you really care about are the films. By general agreement, the intelligent, moving Swedish vampire flick Let the Right One In lives up to expectations, the Jean-Claude Van Damme reinvention piece JVCD has jazzed everybody (I'm evidently only in feeling only fizzed rather than jazzed), and Nacho Vigalando was another huge hit with his outstanding shorts program, his spirited karaoke singing, and his incredibly contagious enthusiasm for, well, life.

I'm happy to say that the festival has (apparently) grown even more popular than last year, with many more out-of-town journalists and industry folks coming to see what all the fuss is about, and many more Austin residents sharing in the fun. Some screenings that I thought would be half-empty instead sold out early; more schedule juggling has been required in order to see what I want to see, but I am in the fortunate position of being able to stay for the entire festival, which gives me a better chance to see everything on my personal "hot list" and still have time to visit with the very entertaining film fans who mill around between screenings.

It feels almost churlish to admit disappointment with some program entries, but not everything connected for me. Fabrice Du Welz's Vinyan was a late addition to the program, coming off screenings at Toronto that drew decidedly mixed reactions; Kurt was entirely positive, Todd less so. Set up as a stark domestic drama with a third-act twist into horror, Vinyan turns out to be curiously dispassionate and enervating. Rufus Sewell and Emmanuelle Beart are a married couple holding on to the last thread of their relationship, still searching for their son, presumed drowned in the giant tsunami that claimed thousands of lives a couple of years ago. Because the marriage is barely functioning and the couple never talks to each other in a meaningful way, it's nearly impossible to generate any interest, much less sympathy or even empathy, for their plight. The third act twist should play like a cousin to Apocalypse Now, but instead feels incredibly arbitrary. Vinyan opens and concludes with two powerful scenes; if only what came between were able to live up to those bookends.

Seventh Moon, from Eduardo Sanchez, who co-directed The Blair Witch Project, takes off on the idea of China's Hungry Ghost Festival coming to life. Tim Chiou and Amy Smart are a newlywed couple honeymooning in rural China; they are to end their trip with a visit to the husband's family. They never get there; the trusted tour guide/driver abandons them in the middle of the night with lurking ghostly apparitions waiting to whisk them away to Hell.

In the nine years since Blair Witch, low-budget horror has been buried under an avalanche of faux-documentary features with far too much shakey-cam footage. Seventh Moon is in line with that aesthetic; unfortunately, it's only effective in two, maybe three scenes. The balance of the time, it's irritating. Rather than feeling any genuine dread or fear, I found myself easily and happily distracted by the delicious roasted pig dinner that I munched on during the movie. The food and drinks that are readily available at the Alamo Drafthouse are usually an awesome supplement, but on occasion they can also make up for a movie that doesn't satisfy the creative hunger you might feel otherwise.

Probably made on an even tinier budget, South of Heaven displays verve and imagination; it's the kind of quietly audacious oddity that, if you came across it on public access television, you'd watch out of sheer fascination. The plot follows two brothers and the trouble one causes for the other by becoming involved in a sure-fire criminal scheme. The story doesn't matter so much as the highly stylized backgrounds, the clear delineation between various degrees of villainy, and the merry grab bag of influences on display, from Tex Avery to Sam Fuller and film noir in general, most of it painted in broad comic strokes.

The pace is consistent though probably too langorous for its own good. Some aspects of the story and production details seem odd just for the sake of oddity, but the non-conventional impulses keep things fresh. I suspect South of Heaven is the kind of film that could either really click on a second or third viewing -- or incite nothing but yawns.

That's one of the beauties of Fantastic Fest -- even the less successful films can provoke extended discussion and reveal passionate minority supporters who will defend them to the death. Viva la strange!