Film Fests
Chattanooga Film Festival 2026: ‘American Theater’
I’ve recently been over-indulging in The Blacklist for a few reasons, aside from the fact that it’s genuinely a great show. The two main reasons are: capers and the show’s continual element of surprise. Who doesn’t love a good caper? But it’s how the show continues to surprise me that keeps me coming back; it’s a feeling that film and television rarely make me feel anymore. Little did I realize there would be a film at this year’s Chattanooga Film Festival that would surprise me to levels The Blacklist could only hope to. That film is American Theater.
Brian Clowdus, founder and artistic director of Serenbe Playhouse, is looking to remarket himself after racism and sexual assault allegations shuttered his immersive theatre. Rather than atoning for his wrongdoings, Brian has reinvented himself; from cancelled creator to MAGA zealot, Brian is ready for his new lot in life. With a handful of other cancelled actors, Brian and his team are set to put on the world’s most immersive telling of the Salem Witch Trials.
Is American Theater Elevated Satire?
Nearly every note I took during this film is null and void for a very strange reason. Directors Nicholas Clark and Dylan Frederick crafted a wonderfully exceptional piece of modern cinema verité in a way that is as fascinating as it is groundbreaking. When I sat down to watch American Theater, my assumption was that I was sitting down for a mockumentary. I mean, it’s Chattanooga Film Festival, so that’s a fair assumption. During the Salem Witch Trials, we see people burning and being hanged from trees. I spent much of the film, like I do when it comes to found footage/mockumentary, waiting for the shoe to drop. But as the credits rolled, everyone was alive. That’s because it wasn’t a mockumentary.
“Elevated satire” was going to be my [hopeful] pull quote for this piece. Color me surprised when I noticed IMDb listed this film’s genre as: documentary. Learning that American Theater was, in fact, a documentary shattered me. To say I sat on my couch in complete stunned silence for 10 minutes after learning that is far from hyperbole.
Witch Hunt!
Brian’s insistence on retelling the Salem Witch Trials is a not-so-clever play on Trump’s favorite “witch hunt” phrase. It makes complete sense that he would tell that story as a way to stick it to the libs who cancelled him. What’s important about American Theater is how the documentarians don’t attempt to make these cancelled MAGA people into villains. Clark and Frederick captured the raw interactions between this group and let the relationships naturally play out as they would have had the cameras not been there.
What is most interesting about Brian is how he feels like a perfectly written character to make you dislike him just enough to hope for his downfall. Throughout Brian’s attempt to make art with his own skewed social commentary, he is also running for the House of Representatives in Florida–which is a very interesting choice for a flamboyantly gay man.
Did I Ruin Your Experience?
While I was sitting down and trying to figure out how to spin this review, I found myself questioning whether or not to mention that it’s a documentary. Would I be preemptively pulling the rug out from people’s feet? Does it take away from the overall gut punch that this documentary offers? And that’s when I realized I was the one who didn’t know it was a documentary. If I remember correctly, the CFF Virtual Fest page mentioned the word documentary in the plot description, but I can’t look that up at this time. Was my horror-centric mind too into the idea that it would be a mockumentary without even questioning it?
What I admire most about American Theater is how genuine it is. There’s no spin, no false narratives, and everyone speaks for themselves. When you let someone speak for themself, they can only demonize themselves as much as they are willing to. There may be some negative press towards American Theater that says they’re trying to humanize “bad” people. And I would wholeheartedly disagree with that. This documentary is a unique look at the Rob Schneider’s and Scott Baio’s of the industry. At the end of it all, American Theater is one of the best documentaries I have seen…maybe even one of the best documentaries of the 2020s.
I’ve said time and time again that horror comedies/dark comedies aren’t my forte. Filmmakers often don’t find the right balance between horror and comedy, usually resulting in a mishmash blend that feels unfocused and lacking. Moreover, I love ambitious films; horror comedies don’t often lend themselves to ambition. (That’s not a diss by any means.) Films like Tucker & Dale vs. Evil, The Draft!, and Chainsaws Were Singing are just a few that really broke the mold for me. Thanks to the lovely programmers at Chattanooga Film Festival, I can now add Frankie, Maniac Woman to the list of exceptional horror comedies.
Frankie, Maniac Woman Delivers a Bloody Twist on Horror Comedy
Frankie Ramirez (Dina Silva) is trying to break into the industry one way or another. Little did she know that her fame would come at a bloody price. Denial after denial, being told she’s not skinny or pretty enough, when enough was enough…Frankie takes her revenge. Can Frankie slash her way to the top of the charts? Or will her path of violence become too much for her to handle?
Co-written by Dina Silva and Pierre Tsigaridis and directed by Pierre Tsigaridis, Frankie, Maniac Woman is truly a sight to behold. Pierre Tsigaridis’ third feature film takes us to a deeper level than we’ve seen before (though that might not be fair to say, as I’ve only seen his first film, Two Witches). But much of the joy from this film comes from Silva’s co-writing and performance. Oh yeah, and the gloriously violent nature of it all.
Dina Silva Creates One of Modern Slasher Horror’s Best Villains
Dina Silva’s occasionally masked portrayal of Frankie brings us one of horror’s greatest villains of all time. Rarely do we see women in horror take the main stage as such a violent force of nature. And what we also see is a devilishly smart script. Silva and Pierre Tsigaridis’ creation of Frankie brings us both a protagonist and an antagonist. Frankie wants this life where she can live as the performer she is meant to be (because Silva’s voice is gorgeous). On the other hand, Frankie’s direct actions will make sure she never has a career, you know, with the slayings and all.
The beautiful nature of Frankie’s character is the moments of realization that she has warped the trajectory of her future with each subsequent kill. She could stop, sure, but what if killing is what she was meant to do all along? Frankie does have an amazing voice, but Frankie is a fantastic serial killer. If only there were a world where she could do both.
Frankie, Maniac Woman Proves Great Slashers Need Great Stories
Now I’m unable to access the screener again, and the IMDb credits do not show the name, so I can’t fully praise the people in charge of Frankie, Maniac Woman’s SFX. A film like Frankie, Maniac Woman shows me just how wrong modern slashers are. Take Terrifier, for example. Terrifier’s story is bland, uninspired, recycled, and lazy. It’s nothing but filler around a series of fine kills. Frankie, Maniac Woman uses its kills to emphasize its incredibly well-written story. A fine film has a story that’s enough to pass the time; a great slasher has a story that uses kills as exclamation marks.
Frankie, Maniac Woman’s kills are punctuation marks that are a level above exclamation marks. Whatever that may be. Frankie is an unstoppable killing machine, until she can be stopped. She’s not this infallible entity who can take six bullets to the torso and keep lumbering on…she’s just a person. A person with feelings, stamina, and brilliant comedic timing. She’s someone you could easily see yourself being friends with (as long as you didn’t know about the killings (hell, maybe even if you knew about the killings if that’s your thing)).
Frankie, Maniac Woman Is One of the Best Festival Horror Films of the Year
Frankie, Maniac Woman is a devilishly stylized slasher that exudes camp and craft. When was the last time a film made you cry from laughter and sadness? When was the last time you watched a film so viciously riotous that you hoped things would just…work out in the end? On top of being funny, brutal, and bloody as hell, Frankie, Maniac Woman is a genuinely ‘G’reat film. It’s one of the few festival films I’ve seen that’s unquestionably Criterion-worthy.
There is a part of me that doesn’t like doing capsule reviews, but sometimes expanding on your thoughts feels like nothing but filler. And attempting to review something that is half filler doesn’t sit right with me. Dead Media and La cosa en la niebla are two films that I really wanted to talk about, but didn’t feel that overelaborating and underperforming would be helpful.
La cosa en la niebla
Ismael (Martín Garabal) is an experienced pilot who prepares for another normal flight alongside his new co-pilot Danicka (Elena de Lara). Things go normally for the crew until they’re midway through their flight. An oncoming “cargo plane” forces them to divert from their flight path, leading to a flight no one will soon forget. When their plane is overtaken by something nefarious, the crew must do everything they can to survive the flight…before it is their last.
From writer Juan José Ramírez Mascaró and director Chedey Reyes comes La cosa en la niebla, a wacky, funny, and weirdly unique chamber piece that thrills as much as it kills. Even with jokes and bits that may have been lost in translation, La cosa en la niebla (The Thing in the Fog) was a delight from start to finish. There are a handful of filmmakers who can handle a Leslie Nielsen-like character, but Reyes clearly can.
Ismael and Danicka are perfect foils for each other, even before the ball eventually drops. Juan José Ramírez Mascaró’s script is tight, succinct, and surprisingly funny (given I’m not a fan of horror comedy). Ismael’s character is this perfect, deadpan entity whose seriousness inevitably dips into hilarity. What’s most enjoyable is how the comedy comes effortlessly and naturally.
La cosa en la niebla enters the pantheon of greatest alien films of the 2020s, joining the likes of The Antares Paradox and UFO Sweden (not the shitty AI dub). If you want a fun, low-stakes, alien invasion chamber piece, The Thing in the Fog will get the job done and leave no crumbs.
Dead Media
Maggie Sloke (Sammi-Jack Martincak) and her friends Brenda (Jessica Fenton) and Dan (Antonio Teodoro) settle in front of the TV for a night of relaxation and movie watching. When Maggie’s uncle, Uncle Heppy (Sam Landman), arrives, the night quickly goes south. Rather than watching Night of the Lurchers on streaming, Uncle Heppy insists on watching it on the DVD he purchased. With edibles and drinks in hand, the four sit down to watch a movie that may soon turn out to be a bit more than just a movie.
From writer/director Joseph Scrimshaw, Dead Media takes the cursed VHS tape trope and flips it on its head. But it’s the overall product that left me wanting more. Aesthetically, Dead Media hits all the right notes; it’s nostalgic in a way that feels comforting rather than overbearing. Scrimshaw excels at making a film that I want to watch. Unfortunately, it’s the content of the film that left me droopy-eyed and tired.
Dead Media’s biggest problem is its pacing. This hour-and-a-half-long film that could have easily been 70 or 75 minutes, and no one would have batted an eye. Scrimshaw struggles to find any cohesion in his editing, which makes the film begin to feel as if it is nothing more than slightly related scenes placed one in front of another. I can forgive unintentionally (or intentionally) campy performances, but many of the performances in Dead Media fall completely flat. Uncle Heppy feels like he is nothing more than a generic brand Cecil Kaufman (Richard Riehle) from Chillerama, and not in a way that feels like an homage.
I can feel Joseph Scrimshaw’s love of horror in Dead Media, which does speak volumes. It’s just that Dead Media takes too many risks, and I don’t feel like they paid off.
