In one of the most riveting lead performances of 2015, Christopher Abbott plays the emotionally adrift James White. He’s a twentysomething in the midst of a terrible family double-tragedy: his father’s just passed and his mother, Gail (Cynthia Nixon), has terminal cancer. It’s a chilly November morning in New York City and there’s a memorial for his father being held at his mom’s apartment where friends and family have gathered to mourn, but that’s not where James is. James is slumping through a raging club, drunk and delirious, pushing his way past sweaty young bodies in his stinky gray hoodie (which he seldom changes). He emerges from the den of excess, steps into sunlight and hops into a cab. When he finally arrives at the gathering, he meets the grieving guests with dark circles under his eyes, smelling of gym socks and booze. All he wants is for everyone to leave so that he can continue to bum on his mom’s couch and party every night. He’s an easy read: Scumbag. Slacker. Fuck-up. Freeloader.

James White, the moving directorial debut of Brooklyn filmmaker Josh Mond, doesn’t let you write James off so easily. In addition to being a total slob and a bully who’s more than happy to lay hands on any stranger who rubs him the wrong way, he’s an attentive caregiver, a loving son and a good friend. He’s only got one friend, Nick (Scott “Kid Cudi” Mescudi), but they’re tight; they back each other up in bar fights, and Nick’s happy to help take care of Gail at the drop of a hat. James can be a dick, but slowly we begin to understand his mental oddities and hangups. He unleashes his anger on people outside of his tiny inner circle because he’d never intentionally hurt the ones he loves. Does that make him a good guy? An asshole? He’s neither, existing in that complicated, dark, mysterious space in between. He’s a ticking time bomb, and as his story unfolds, we learn what makes him tick.

Sympathy for James blossoms as we get to know him, but melodrama and sentimentality are virtual non-factors in Mond’s storytelling. James White is a chillingly up-close-and-personal observation of a young man bubbling with so much emotion that he exists perpetually at the precipice of physical and psychological implosion. Dire, stressful situations like James’ are ugly and messy and horrible, so Mond doesn’t attempt to paint a pretty picture.

Still, glimmers of sweetness arise as we unpack James’ mental baggage. He’s got some serious (scary) anger issues, but being around his mother brings out his softer, compassionate side: When Gail’s admitted to the hospital following a frightful mental lapse, James gets frustrated that he can’t find her a bed amid the chaotic hospital traffic of busy doctors and nurses. In the name of her well being, he tries exercising patience. “All I’m trying to do is get her a bed,” he pleads with the bed manager. “She’s down there sitting in her own shit. I’m just trying to do anything I can do to help her.” The most powerful scene involves son helping mother from bedroom to bathroom, carrying her weight as she’s too sick to stand. Gail’s too exhausted to make it back to her bed and asks James to sit for a minute, burying her head in his chest. “Where do you want to be?” he asks her gently. “Paris,” she whispers.

Such subtle, penetrating character work is a hallmark of the film collective to which Mond belongs, Brooklyn’s Borderline Films. Mond and fellow filmmakers/best friends Sean Durkin and Antonio Campos were the guys behind Martha Marcy May Marlene and Simon Killer, and James White fits comfortably into the group’s catalogue of low-and-slow psychological dramas.

The Borderline fellows have also exhibited a keen eye for visual poetry and meaning, and Mond’s film may just be their crowning achievement in that regard. Cinematographer Mátyás Erdély employs the same clingy, close-proximity technique that made his work on Son of Saul so widely discussed and dissected in cinephile circles, almost never straying more than a foot from James side even as he rushes through swinging doors to escape uncomfortable interactions. Staying so tight on James never gives us an inch of breathing room should we feel the urge to shy away from his pain or the tension of the disaster he’s dealing with.

Given this perma-close-up technique pretty much defines the film visually, the pressure was on Abbott to turn in a breakthrough performance, and he obliged to astounding effect. The former Girls actor powers through the movie with the force and velocity of a cannonball, bringing a different color and energy to each scene. Without a doubt, Abbott proves he’s a world-class talent, and Nixon’s equally stunning performance takes James White to another level.

In Simon Killer, director Antonio Campos plays provocateur, giving us a protagonist who becomes so unlikable, so repulsive, you’re sure to leave the theater full of hatred and contempt for him. Campos’ film is thoroughly distressing, an exercise in discomfort that will be difficult to embrace for most, much like his first film, Afterschool. However, dismissing it as a purely unpleasant experience would be to overlook an expertly crafted film—it’s deeply sensuous, with intoxicating imagery and a seductive musical score. I was enthralled with it from beginning to end, but if you find Simon too ugly a person to watch, just remember—Simon Killer’s beauty lies in its form.

Simon (Brady Corbet) is a recent college grad from New York who, reeling from a recent breakup, has fled to Paris in search of—what else—love and sex. Bewildered by his new surroundings, he shuffles aimlessly around the city until he happens upon a kind-hearted prostitute named Victoria (Mati Diop) who he convinces to take him in, feed and clothe him (through some devious manipulation). Simon eventually hatches a foolish, half-baked extortion scheme that results in Victoria getting badly beaten (though this doesn’t stop him from cheating on her with another girl). A frightening, vicious side of Simon gradually emerges as his frustrations grow. His lies accumulate, his mind comes undone, and we steadily approach the grim implication of the film’s title.

As Simon’s actions become increasingly alarming, you can almost hear Campos whispering in your ear—“What if Simon did this? How about this?” He takes your patience for Simon—stretches it—and stretches it—and stretches it—until it inevitably snaps. When it snaps depends upon your tolerance for wickedness in people. I turned on Simon when he threw Victoria’s love in the garbage by sleeping around behind her back. However, you might turn on him in the opening scene, in which he refers to his ex-lover as a whore. Everyone’s breaking point will vary, which is Simon Killer‘s most intriguing quality. No matter where you draw the line morally, Simon steps over it and keeps walking—and walking—until you’ve got nothing left for him but disdain.

Corbet’s natural gifts are fully unleashed here—Campos gives him a lot of space to work his magic, and it’s clear that the two share the same sensibilities. The film hinges on Corbet’s performance, and the one he delivers is stirring, nuanced, and often shocking. He has nervous tics that are steadily amplified throughout the film until Simon resembles something like an abused, rabid animal. The most unforgettable of his idiosyncrasies are the long, guttural moans and groans he releases when he becomes upset, angry or nervous. They’re spine-tingling—half childlike, half bestial—and get louder and more primal as his emotions swell. Diop is effortlessly alluring and balances hard-nosed street-savvy with maternal sensitivity. She does a solid job of earning our sympathy and has natural chemistry with Corbet.

While Simon Killer’s ponderous pace can be trying at times, what helps the experience is Campos’ masterful technique. He moves his camera with finesse and deliberation—you can sense how much meticulous thought went into every shot, though the scenes still feel organic and un-staged. Campos twice returns to a still-life shot of a table in Victoria’s apartment which is at first clean. Later in the film, it’s littered with cocaine bags, half-eaten food, and used wine glasses. Campos focuses on the clutter for long takes while the characters chatter off screen. The film is full of inventive shots like this, with each of them more interesting than the last.

Campos and cinematographer Joe Anderson shoot Paris like’70s New York—there’s nothing saccharine or romantic about it. The camera is aimed low, never concerned with showcasing the picturesque scenery—its only focus is Simon and his actions. Interiors are lit with thick waves of color that saturate the screen like ink blotches. In a remarkable extended shot halfway through the film, Simon is gleefully dancing in a nightclub as the psychedelic, undulating lights he’s bathing in seem to lull him into a rapturous trance. There is a carnality to Simon Killer that’s truly unique.

The film’s soundtrack and score are used aggressively, to great effect. The music always reflects what’s going on in Simon’s head, and is sometimes literally the music he’s listening to—when he takes his headphones off, our music cuts out. When the camera follows Simon as he prowls the Parisian streets, a pounding tribal beat fills the speakers to convey his predatory mindset. When he dances lovingly with Victoria in her apartment (a welcome respite from the film’s thick tension), we hear the film’s soothing title song. The musical choices are all very functional in fleshing Simon out as a character. The percussive musical score and cool indie-pop soundtrack are as conflicting as his mental state, which is appropriate.

Simon Killer is a raw, primal film that will leave you emotionally and psychologically stripped. Though a feeling of unease and dissonance pervades it, its cinematic elements are immaculate. It’s not a perfect film—as a character study, it’s somewhat shallow—but at the end of the day, it will stick with you (in the ickiest way) for a good long while, and achieves this through pure, masterful cinema.

Remember to check out our two-part extended interview with director Antonio Campos. (Part 1 | Part 2)

In Part 2 of our interview, we talk to Mr. Campos about his fascination with adolescence as subject matter, teaching Brady Corbet to moan, his use of sound and mirror images in storytelling, Chantal Akerman’s influence on his work, his love of spilling wine, and Joran Van Der Sloot.

Read Part 1 of our interview here

Your previous films have been centered on adolescents. Simon’s a bit older.
I was stuck in adolescence for a long time as a subject. I was fascinated by it. (For this film), I started off wanting to do this generation’s love story. Kind of like a mumblecore love story in some ways. It even has a soundtrack of a film like that. It’s the dark side, the darker implications of our generation. I don’t think my films (necessarily) convey reality. I think that my films exist in a hyper-real universe where things are put under a microscope. They’re not complete portraits of a generation. Robert from Afterschool, he’s very much a concentrated (embodiment) of the darker stuff. Concentrating (on the darker stuff) doesn’t allow you to sentimentalize that much. You’ll get to something that’s under the surface, a little deeper, without wading through the sentimentality and the nostalgia. They’re dark universes to spend time in, and they’re dark aspects of humanity to focus on.

I was very interested in adolescence. My experiences as an adolescent left a pretty serious mark on me. I was dealing with (adolescence in my films), and it felt like a natural progression to go from that to someone in their early twenties, sort of graduating. I think now that I’ve done that with (Robert and with Simon), I’m interested in either going much, much older or examining a different genre.

So, Simon Killer might be your final project in this theme.
Maybe, yeah. There’ll be another dark central male figure, but I think he’ll be older. He’ll be in the same spectrum of bordering on sociopath/psychopath.

Brady uses a lot of primal, guttural moans and groans throughout the film. Whose idea was it to do that?
That was me. I said to Brady “I think you should do something like…UHHHHM…..MMMMM…” a sort of cacophony of moans and groans and guttural sounds. I threw that out to him and he ran with it. We figured out how to hit different “notes” with it. Scared groans, angry groans, sad groans. We wanted to find very visceral, primal expressions of feelings, and that was a great way to do it. (He could) express his fears, aggression, confusion, whatever…through this kind of sound.

Speaking of the sound, your soundtrack and score are very aggressive and functional in this film. What was your inspiration behind using your music so aggressively, as opposed to in Afterschool, where it was more subtle?
Afterschool had a lot of aggressive sound design things, like a lot of long drones and industrial sounds, like air conditioners and hard drives, those kinds of things. I was interested in going a completely different direction with sound (in Simon Killer). I was very consciously not using music in Afterschool and some of my shorts before that. We had an interesting way of approaching music in this film. I said “Simon’s listening to his iPod the entire time.” Brady immediately had a bunch of ideas for music, and we just ran with it. The title is kind of punk…you know, it’s not necessarily a subtle title. It’s an in-your-face title. We said “Let’s do the same with the music. Let’s not shy away from it. Let’s be as abrasive and aggressive as possible. Let’s go indie pop with it.”

With the score, we wanted to counter-act that. (There are) primal, percussive sounds. The soundtrack is very produced, and the score is very stripped away. The idea behind the credit music is sort of a blend of those two.

You’ve cited Chantal Akerman as an influence. There are a lot of shots in Afterschool with that Akerman-esque waist-height camera placement, and there are some in Simon Killer as well.
Chantal Akerman is always going to be there. Her influence is seen throughout everybody; Gus Van Sant, (Michael) Haneke, etc. What she did has reverberated through all of European cinema and a lot of independent film (in the U.S.) She’s always in the back of my mind. I had the pleasure of meeting her when she was on a jury and gave me my first prize ever with a short film I had in Cannes.

That’s amazing!
Yeah, I was really moved by that. (I think) Jeanne Dielman…is one of the most influential films in contemporary cinema.

There’s a shot you return to a few times of a table in Victoria’s apartment. You focus on the table and don’t cut away, even as dialogue is playing out.
I like still life shots. I like looking at a table and creating a story with (the items on it.) One of my favorite shots in the film is a slow, dollying back and forth shot when Simon walks into a girl’s apartment. There’s wine spilled on the floor, on the table, there are orange rinds on the side, some leftover cheese, (the girl’s) eating an orange. I got obsessed with how I would throw shit around. I’d spend time, like, taking a glass of water and spilling it. Especially wine, I really liked spilling wine around (laughs). In that scene, the table from the beginning of the night to the next morning says a lot. At the beginning of the night, it’s just a clean wooden table. She takes some fruits out, takes some magazines out, (puts down) a bottle of wine, and puts some bags of cocaine on the table. By the morning, it’s grimy, she’s wiping off some leftover residue, and she’s smoking a cigarette.

There are a lot of mirroring shots in the film. When he first looks at his computer, it’s for an email. The next time, he’s looking at porn. When he’s looking at Victoria and turns her around, (but) when he looks at the other girl, he’s looking at her face to face. When he dances with Victoria, (the shot is) from the waist down. When he dances with the other girl, (the shot) is from the chest up. Things repeat themselves, (but from) a different perspective based on how Simon is seeing the world. In the first apartment, we’re usually moving right to left, and in the other, we move (left to right.)

I didn’t notice all of those things consciously on my first viewing, but now looking back, it certainly registered subconsciously. When you put subtle things like that in your films, are you aiming for the subconscious, or do you hope your audience picks up on those things immediately?
No, no, no. That’s just the way my mind wraps itself around a story sometimes. It’s sort of creating “rules to the game”, seeing things in cycles. I like seeing things repeat, but from different perspectives.

I really enjoyed the wordplay in the final line of the film: “Simon, your lion.” Where did you get the idea for that?
I had heard a line from Joran Van Der Sloot that said “When my mom described me as an animal, she said I was like a snake, but I would like to be a lion, and one day, I will be a lion.” Joran Van Der Sloot is this guy who was accused of killing Natalee Holloway and eventually convicted of killing a girl in Peru. Brady and I read that, and…Brady has this fox pin that his mom gave him.

That’s actually his pin in the movie?
Yeah. She bought it online, so we bought a few more. So, Simon has this pin that his mom gave him. Instead of a snake, it’s a fox. Simon wants to be the king, the ultimate predator. But he isn’t; he’s still a little fox.

Simon Killer is out now in limited release and is available on Video On Demand. Stay tuned to Way Too Indie for our full review next week.

In Simon Killer, director Antonio Campos weaves a tale of the evolution of loneliness and isolation into madness. The titular hero is a recent college grad who, hurting from a bad breakup, takes a trip to Paris, disconcertedly seeking out love to mend his wounds. He meets Victoria, a prostitute with a kind heart, who begins to fall for him. Gradually, she discovers that there is something dark and dangerous buried deep beneath Simon’s unassuming demeanor. Something deadly.

Campos had major critical success with his first feature film, the haunting Afterschool, and produced the amazing Martha Marcy May Marlene. Simon Killer, Campos’ sophomore feature film (on which he used a lot of the same crew from Martha), is a deeply disturbing, sensual experience. It’s as fascinating as it its frightening, and is a must-see (it was my favorite film of SF Indiefest 2013.) Mr. Campos sat with Way Too Indie for an interview, which is a perfect complement to the film (which, as I said, you must see.) There are a couple of very minor spoilers, but they will not affect your experience with the film.

In part one of our interview, Mr. Campos discusses creating the character of Simon, his working relationship with star Brady Corbet (Martha Marcy May Marlene), making a movie without a script, shooting Paris like New York, and the differences between the lighting in Afterschool and Simon Killer.

Simon seems innocent enough at the beginning of the film, but there was a certain point where it dawned on me that he’s, in fact, a pretty despicable person. That turning point seems to vary depending on who watches the film. Was your intention to test what people’s breaking point with Simon would be?
Yeah, it’s interesting. I find that women seem to go with him as far as the point when he seems to be making the moves to cheat on (Victoria). In some ways, he lays it all out in the first five minutes (of the film) with his speech about his ex girlfriend. He says “Whatever. She’s a whore. I’d like to meet somebody new.”, and you kind of see where this character is going based on where he’s been. The whole point was to see how long it would take for you to turn on him. And even then, you’re still kind of in it with him (because you’ve) been in it with him for so long.

Simon seems to go through a transformation throughout the film. Was he an awful person to begin with, or does he become an awful person as the film progresses?
He’s not an awful person in the beginning. He’s capable of being that person. Each relationship (he’s had) has pushed him closer to that. The film is the final part of (the) transformation of someone who is capable of doing something horrible.

You and Brady are really tight. Can you explain your relationship with him and how you two work together?
We became friends on a film called Two Gates of Sleep. That was the only film Brady had done so far. We immediately got along. We had very similar sensibilities, very similar sense(s) of humor, and he’s just a very easy person to work with. He’s a very smart filmmaker himself. You can talk to him like a director to an actor, and you can also talk to him as a fellow filmmaker. He knows where the camera is…sometimes better than you do. He’s just been doing it for so long. He’s courageous, and that’s what you want in an actor, someone who is collaborative, trusts you, and is willing to go certain places.

It’s interesting you mention trust, because there’s no script for the film. How important is trust in your crew and your cast?
The cast was incredibly open to this process. I think people are more and more open to the idea of things being unscripted and improvised. Some people aren’t. I’ve definitely met actors who say “Um, I don’t know how to improvise.” And I’m like, “You don’t know how to talk?” (laughs) This (interview) is basically one big improv. You’re having a conversation and reacting to things, and that’s what you’re asking (the actors) to do. It’s just a lot more pressure when there’s someone recording you the whole time. (The actors) weren’t scared of it and were excited by the idea.

I’d say “This is an improvised film. Whatever you want to bring to it, you can. If you have an idea for a scene, we can do it.” (I tried) to give over a lot of control and ownership to the actors. It’s got to feel collaborative, (and) that excites actors. At times it got difficult, since we were doing scenes in both English and French, but it was a challenge everybody was up for.

Because there was no script and the film was improvised, Brady must have been semi-fluent in French, right?
Yeah, semi-fluent. He can get through that. I had my old French teacher (help Brady) for a few days and give him some pointers.

Why did you choose not to write a script?
We really felt that we were going to find the film as we went. We knew what the story was, we knew the structure. The structure, for me, is the most important thing. Dialogue is something that comes naturally in the moment. Or, you know the scene, so you know you’ll get the dialogue. We knew we were going to find it. Brady and I collaborated on the outline, then Mati (Diop, who plays Victoria in the film) came in for part of that process. The outline really laid out the structure. Leading up to the first day of shooting, I was writing and I had written some key scenes. Every time an actor would come on, we would improvise something, and that improvisation would lead to a (structure).

Without a script, it was incredibly scary. Every day was a new challenge. Every night I would review the footage to see what worked and what didn’t work. But there was something liberating about it. Things present themselves. Every time you do a scene, you have a checklist of all the themes and devices in the film, and every time you do something, you know roughly where (it) falls in the story and you start seeing the connections. Brady was very good about keeping his character in check and sort of knowing where each scene fell in his arc. For me, that was (very helpful).

I have trouble imagining this story take place anywhere other than Paris…
The guy before you just said he could see it taking place, like, somewhere in Nebraska or someplace really different. He said the opposite, which is interesting. I agree with you, I couldn’t see it anywhere else but Paris.

You shot Paris like it was New York.
Yeah, absolutely. Joe (Anderson, cinematographer on Simon Killer) and I were always looking at it like we were shooting New York…in the 70’s. We looked at a lot of 70’s movies.

Scorsese?
Yeah, we looked at Taxi Driver (and Mean Streets). We looked at Panic in Needle Park, Cruising, and Scarecrow. We looked at some older Anthony Mann films. There were certain kinds of zooms, camera moves, things that made it feel like we were shooting something without control of the environment we were in.

One scene that struck me was the one where Simon meets Victoria for the first time. They walk into a room, and the whole room is flooded with this violent red light coming from hanging Christmas lights. At the conclusion of the scene, the red light washes over the camera lens in a very interesting effect that I’ve never seen before.
Everything in Afterschool is low-con (low contrast) and there’s very little saturation. The cold, boarding school setting led to that institutional, clinical, sterile look. (Simon Killer) is grimy and colorful, and we didn’t fight it. If we had gone the other way and tried to de-saturate things and give it a weird, fluorescent tone, it would…it would be dishonest. Those places are very low-lit by a specific kind of lights. Usually, it’s like, a shitty practical light, or it’s a shitty lamp in the corner, or Christmas lights. That’s part of the world. It’s a night movie, in that way. I always knew that I wanted to…put you in Simon’s mind’s eye, something that was just pure light without shape or form. The introduction to the movie is Paris with that color scheme, and we see that red when Simon’s head goes into his hands, and (the red) is what Simon sees with his eyes closed. It’s abstract and ambiguous enough to be right for Simon, I think.

Read part 2 of our interview

Our favorite film from SF Indiefest this year, Simon Killer, finally has a trailer available to watch. The trailer gives you a taste of the discomfort as well as the hypnotic visuals that are found in Antonio Campos’ latest film. Simon Killer stars Brady Corbet (Melancholia, Martha Marcy May Marlene) as he travels to Paris after a recent breakup. Things begin to take a turn after he meets a prostitute named Victoria (Mati Diop) as they form a relationship that leads to a dangerous plan to extort Victoria’s clients.

Watch the official trailer for Simon Killer:

The lineup at this year’s SF IndieFest was unbelievably strong; I anticipated that there would be at least a few certified duds, but that wasn’t the case. Though I didn’t love every film, each had its unique voice, ambition, and spirit. From the lowest-budget short to the most polished full-length feature, they all offered a brand new experience. This made making my list of ten favorite films very difficult. I connected with many, many films at the festival, but these ten are the ones that I felt compelled to champion the most.

Top 10 Films from SF IndieFest

#1 Simon Killer

The thing about Simon Killer is, it’s a difficult movie to digest, but in the best way possible. The teeth-grinding level of discomfort Antonio Campos and Brady Corbet are able to achieve in Simon Killer resonated with me more than anything else at the festival. Corbet finds a way to make Simon both magnetic and repulsive, and Campos captures Paris at its most deeply colorful and richly textured. Pound for pound, my favorite movie of the festival.

Remember to keep it tuned in to Way Too Indie in April for our full review of Simon Killer and our interview with director Antonio Campos.

#2 Be Good

Though not as flashy as Simon Killer, Todd Looby’s Be Good also finds its protagonist going through alarming mental transformations that surprise even him. Be Good will break your heart stealthily, little by little. Joe Swanberg’s All the Light in the Sky does the same and shares the same naturalistic tone, but when it comes to picking my personal favorites of the festival, Be Good just hits closer to home. Every moment in this movie feels earned, and Looby’s characters are handled with care. It’s the type of movie that just might teach you something about yourself by the time the credits roll.

#3 I Declare War

There were more than a few movies at this year’s festival that evoked feelings of nostalgia, but I Declare War recalls an era of movies (The Goonies, Stand by Me) that I just happened to grow up with. The kids playing their supposedly innocent ‘game’ quickly realize that their heated prepubescent emotions are too powerful to contain. The child actors’ performances are beyond impressive, and the film’s intensity and stakes are consistently high throughout the running time.

#4 The Legend of Kaspar Hauser

‘Strange’ does not begin to describe this movie. To attempt to describe what ‘happens’ in The Legend of Kaspar Hauser would be to betray it. It’s a visually and sonically stimulating film that rubs you in a way that no other film can. It will make you laugh, squirm, headbang, ponder, gag, yadda yadda yadda. You just…you just need to watch it. It’s absolutely nuts… in a good way.

#5 Antiviral

Brandon Cronenberg’s Antiviral serves as a showcase for its gifted lead actor, Caleb Landry Jones, much like two other films at the festival, Simon Killer and The Story of Luke. What sets Jones’ performance apart from the other two is his spine-chilling physical transformation. Cronenberg’s imaginative and haunting imagery are as arresting as his fathers’, but Jones makes use of every bit of his body to burn the images of his painful deterioration into our minds.

#6 All the Light in the Sky

Films are best when they act as a mirror, illuminating our darkest fears and forcing us to confront them. As Jane Adams, as Marie, fights internally to find her place in this gigantic world, we realize that she’s fighting something we all must all face sooner or later. Nobody has captured the 21st century adult on film quite like Joe Swanberg, and he delivers another stunning time-capsule work of art with All the Light in the Sky.

#7 The Story of Luke

Of all the characters I’ve encountered in the many films at SF Indiefest, The Story of Luke is the one I hold nearest to my heart. The attachment you feel for Luke and his quest for love is inescapable, mostly due to Lou Taylor Pucci’s spot-on performance. The powerful message of acceptance and love The Story of Luke delivers is one that fit the spirit of SF Indiefest and the great city of San Francisco like a glove.

#8 The We and the I

Leading up to the opening night screening of Michel Gondry’s The We and the I, the thing I was most looking forward to was just how innovative Gondry would get with his camera in the super-enclosed space that is a city bus. Just how many interesting camera angles could he find? The answer? It doesn’t matter. Gondry does use his camera in interesting ways, but what makes this film special are the ever-changing dynamics of the loud-mouthed, quick-witted, unfiltered characters that occupy the bus.

#9 The Ghastly Love of Johnny X

Watching this film in 35mm at The Roxie was one of the cornerstones of my incredible SF Indiefest experience. Having the director, Paul Bunnell, and the cast there, the energetic crowd, the buttery popcorn, the technical difficulties; these things all added up to an unforgettable night at the movies, which is what SF Indiefest is all about.

#10 Funeral Kings

The ultra-vulgar kids in Funeral Kings remind me of myself as an awkward teenager. I chuckled at how much of myself I saw in these characters in their pursuit of attention, validation, and sex. To see them chase after girls and sneak around their parents’ houses in the middle of the night was like a blast from the past. Like I Declare War, Funeral Kings features some incredible performances by young actors. The attitude these kids exude is authentic, and nothing about their performances feels forced.

Before covering SF Indiefest, I expected that by now, the 4th day of watching films for 10 hours straight, I would be starting to fade a little. At this point, I have seen over 40 films in under two weeks, a number I’d never approached before. My brain should be fried by now (my sleep-deprived body sure is), but the films being shown here at SF Indiefest are so varied, fascinating, and of such high quality that my sprint through the festival’s lineup has been nothing but pleasurable. All I heard when walking around the festival was how strong this year’s lineup is, and I totally agree.

On the docket for day 4 of the festival were two shorts programs: Defying the Limits, a collection of boundary-shattering films that push the medium in new directions, and An Animated World, which, as the title would suggest, showcased several animated pieces. Next up was Jason Lapeyre and Robert Wilson’s I Declare War, in which we watch a group of kids play a pretend game of “war” in the woods that begins to feel more real than they’d planned. The final film of the day, Antonio Campos’ Simon Killer, takes an unsettling look at a young man’s descent into madness.

Stay tuned to Way Too Indie for an incoming review bonanza of the shorts from the festival. For now, here’s a preview of the shorts shown on day 4.

Defying the Limits (Shorts Program)

To watch experimental film is sometimes uncomfortable, often confrontational, and always enlightening. These films can be difficult to watch, as they typically aren’t clear in their intentions and ask us to interact with them on a high emotional and intellectual level. They seldom cater to a popcorn-eating, blockbuster consuming audience; these films tell their stories on their terms, without compromise. The short films in the Defying the Limits program play by their own rules and urge us to look at film from a new perspective.

In Ewan Bailey’s DeafBlind, a deaf-blind woman explores her relationship with god when, unbeknownst to her, a mysterious man with unknown intentions appears in her home and begins to watch her. Sonia’s Story, a Sergio Leone inspired short by director Lorenzo Guarnieri, follows the titular character on her journey from childhood to adulthood in a politically turbulent 1970s Italy. In Christopher Graybill’s strange and enigmatic The Great Gastromancer, we observe Charlie, a ventriloquist, and his dummy, Rudy, as they struggle to fit into a world that doesn’t need or want them. All three movies are definitely worth keeping an eye on.

An Animated World (Shorts Program)

The second shorts program for the day focused entirely on animated films, and the selection presented was top-notch. Some shorts were wacky and comical, some were just plain gorgeous to look at, and some were irresistibly heart-warming.

The two claymation shorts in the program, Alex Bruel Flagstad’s The Hopper, and James Stewart’s Foxed! both packed an emotional punch, but differed greatly in tone and setting. The Hopper is a cautionary tale about two kids in the murderous streets of west Baltimore who try to rip off some local drug dealers and find themselves in deeper trouble than they were prepared for. Foxed!, is a gorgeous, nightmarish nugget about a young girl enslaved by foxes who makes a last-ditch effort to escape their clutches and return to her home, but discovers that her mother, bizarrely, hasn’t missed her at all.

Evlyn Mcgrath’s dark, digital playground, Here to Fall, Rosa Peris Medina’s hand-drawn tale of physical discovery, Libidinis, and Alessia Travaglini’s haunting Silenziosa Mente are all drop-dead gorgeous. If you were to ask me to explain exactly what these shorts are about, I would be evasive, but their visual beauty alone warrants a second look.

Retrocognition, by Eric Patrick, the most visually striking short in the program (that’s saying a lot), takes different images, sounds, and tropes from retro American sitcoms and radio dramas, and cuts and pastes them together to unsettling (and often darkly funny) effect. Fernando Maldonado and Jorge Tereso’s Shave It is a charmingly fun story about a monkey who is driven out of his jungle home, shaves off his body hair to resemble us, and works his way to the tip-top of society. The final short of the program, The Missing Key by Jonathan Nix, is one of the most heart-melting movies I’ve seen in a long time. It follows a young musician and his cat in a lushly rendered 1920s Venice as they compete for the top prize at the prestigious Abacus Scroll musical competition. To describe it as eye candy would be an understatement. Absolutely a must-watch, please seek it out.

I Declare War

A group of kids play a fiercely competitive fantasy game of “war” in a forest, after school. Their “game” is played with sticks in place of guns and water balloons in place of grenades, but their artillery is very real in their minds, as real as the strong emotions they carry into the “game” from the real world. As their real-life feelings of jealousy and resentment toward each other begin to dictate the decisions they make, their fantasy game escalates to very real, dangerous levels.

Jason Lapeyre and Robert Wilson’s I Declare War stars a very talented young cast, much like SF Indiefest’s opening night film, Michel Gondry’s The We and the I, and tells a coming-of-age story that is refreshingly intelligent, savvy, hilarious, and universally relatable. More importantly, it’s pure, unbridled fun at the movies. We occasionally see the sticks and slingshots the kids hold in their hands as the kids see them in their minds, and the image of kids in print t-shirts and shorts running around with real-life bazookas and automatic rifles is as entertaining as anything I’ve seen at the festival thus far. The action is shot much like the classic war movies the characters love (Patton, Full Metal Jacket). The comedy works quite well, and the clever one-liners are genuinely funny, not overly cute like typical kid-movie zingers. The performances by the actors are impressively sincere. When the kids argue, the urgency and fire behind their cutting words feels very real, and the scenes unfold organically.

Like in The We and the I, the dynamic between the different groups of kids is constantly shifting and evolving, and the escalation of emotions is handled with care so that every moment is earned. Though the premise at first seems innocuous, the stakes become very real by the end, which is the key to making a story work, and separates good movies about kids from the bad ones. The news that I Declare War has been picked up by Drafthouse films for distribution is fantastic, as fans of movies like The Goonies and Stand by Me would be cheating themselves to miss it.

RATING: 8.8

Simon Killer

Writer/Director Antonio Campos was in house at the Roxie to present his unnerving meditation on loneliness/madness, Simon Killer. Simon, played by the uber-talented Brady Corbet (Martha Marcy May Marlene), is a recent college graduate who, reeling from a recent break-up, travels to (a beautifully photographed) Paris and bums around looking for love to fill his void. He meets a prostitute named Victoria and the two fall hatch a dangerously risky plan to extort Victoria’s clients. Corbet commits himself to the role completely, and I defy you to not have nightmares about him after the credits roll. This could possibly end up being my favorite film of the festival, though I’ll bite my tongue until I see the rest of the films.

STAY TUNED: to Way Too Indie for our full review of Simon Killer which will be posted around the film’s release, April 26th. PLUS, Antonio Campos was nice enough to give us an interview about the film, which we will be posting around the release date as well. Campos gives fascinating insight into his filmmaking process, and any aspiring filmmakers and film geeks shouldn’t miss this look inside the techniques and influences of an incredibly talented director.