Film Fests
‘GIVE ME AN A’: A Female Led Anthology for a Post Roe Versus Wade World
Give Me An A celebrated its world premiere on October 16 at the seventh annual Brooklyn Horror Film Festival. All 15 segments in this horror anthology were written and directed by women and explore the post-Roe America that is hurtling toward us.
Roe v. Wade was a monumental Supreme Court ruling that the U.S. Constitution conferred the right to have an abortion, and struck down any statutes that criminalized abortion due to a person’s constitutional right to privacy. Its downfall was a watershed moment for women and the LGBTQ+ community. It opened the floodgates for discriminatory laws denying access to safe abortions, gender-affirming care, and other life-saving healthcare.
Give Me An A is an ambitious project that successfully encapsulates the frenzy and terror felt at this moment. At the post-screening Q&A, executive producer and director Natasha Halevi spoke about how the film was conceptualized, written, and filmed at breakneck speed in the weeks after the Supreme Court ruled to overturn Roe v. Wade.
And I am genuinely in awe of the power of women to Make Shit Happen and deliver a polished and nuanced work of art at a time when most of us have only just begun considering what a post-Roe society would look like. Even the first vignette tackles the immediate hopelessness felt during the early hours of June 24, 2022, and makes for an effectively disorienting introduction that I wouldn’t dare spoil for you. The breathlessly written stories in Give Me An A still feel meticulously crafted and are well performed, and you will see familiar faces in Virginia Madsen (Candyman), Alyssa Milano (Charmed), and Gina Torres (Firefly). The film masterfully uses thriller, sci-fi, and body horror elements to explore the nightmare of a post-Roe reality. Some stories even play out as fantasies where poetic justice finally comes for The Patriarchy.
At its best, Give Me an A feels like a delirious Twilight Zone episode that takes place inside a woman’s mind for the past four months. And what have we been thinking about? Well, we explore the contradictory argument of life beginning at conception, as noted in the segment titled “God’s Plan.” We ask ourselves, “why is this all on us?” — the same question the women asked in “Vasectopia.” We lash out at The Man and men on our personal “Crucible Island.” But we are mostly preoccupied with our mistrust of institutions and each other, like the women in “The Last Store.”
Give Me an A is a smart, engaging, and timely body of work that we so desperately need during this crossroads in American history. My only critique is that the film often stumbled on attempts to explore how a post-Roe society will impact people of multiple marginalized identities, like women of color and trans people. The film also did not include transgender stories and was more concerned with giving cisgender men a comeuppance that neither empowers nor liberates us.
The weakest anthologies were the ones that were centered on cisgender men receiving some kind of 9 to 5 fantastical consequence instead of exploring more diverse stories of the post-Roe hell that awaits us. I was also disappointed in “Abigail” for making Black and Native women a silent chorus serving only to Z-snap and roll their necks in agreement when a fictional Abigail Adams reminds her husband to “remember the ladies.” This Hamilton-esque attempt at diversifying suffragette history glosses over white feminism’s shortcomings and is a painful dismissal of the disproportionate effects that restrictions to reproductive care will have on Black and Brown women.
But this criticism is coming from a place of genuine desire for more stories. Give Me an A is a necessary film and an electrifying call to action. I would welcome several Give Me An A volumes. This issue touches all of us, and I want stories from more of us. We are only at the tip of the proverbial iceberg of this fight for bodily autonomy and the right to choose whatever life we want. Give Me An A rises to this occasion and can hopefully grow to include more voices in the fight for bodily autonomy.
Every once in a while, a festival film oozes with so much craft that it’s hard to believe it exists. I’ve only seen a handful of films on the circuit that filled me with seething jealousy that I didn’t come up with them first. Films like All Jacked Up and Full of Worms and Jimmy & Stiggs are two of the main films that come to mind. As I round out my coverage for this year’s Chattanooga Film Festival, I inadvertently ended with a film that rivals American Theater for my Best of the Fest. Donnie Hobbie’s Jump Scare truly astounds on nearly all fronts and shows how to pay homage to the films (and filmmakers) that are beloved, while still remaining original and unique.
What is Jump Scare About?
The metal band known as Jump Scare, comprised of Val (Chelsea Talmadge), Jen (Erin Ruth Walker), Kye (Shannon Dang), and Debbie (Madison Abbott), head to a cabin in the middle of the desert to work on their latest album. Little do they know that their closest neighbors are a hellbilly’s worst nightmare. One by one, Jump Scare gets smaller and smaller as the neighbors reveal their true horrors. But the band doesn’t take too kindly to the onslaught of violence brought towards them. Metal may not be dead, but Jump Scare might be very soon.
How Did We Get Here?
Writer/director Donnie Hobbie’s Jump Scare is a truly unique piece of genre that pushes the boundaries of good taste in some fascinating ways. Hobbie’s distinct style blends homage and originality in a way Tarantino could only wish for. What’s fun about Jump Scare is how you can truly feel the love for the films considered ‘inspired by’ while still being able to see and feel Hobbie’s personal style. Jump Scare is a dash of Tarantino, Rob Zombie, and Panos Cosmatos, with a heaping spoonful of Hobbie. But in saying that, I fully acknowledge that only Panos Cosmatos could make a film as great as Donnie Hobbie.
Hobbie’s adrenaline-fueled story is not only expertly crafted, but chock-full of blood, guts, and viscera; it’s the epitome of a midnight movie. From blood geysers, hammers to heads, and shotguns galore, Jump Scare has a kill for everyone. While the effects, both practical and digital, make the film a blast to watch, it’s the performance of the main cast that sells this film. Have you ever watched a film and thought, “No one else could ever play this role”? That’s exactly how I feel about Jump Scare‘s cast. Every single actor was perfectly cast, and I can’t picture this film without every single one of them.
The Deeper Meaning Within Jump Scare
Not only is Jump Scare visually entertaining, but it has a deeper message that may become easily lost within the chainsaws and hammers. The running commentary in the film centers around the question “is metal dead”? This comes on the heels of the idea of sampling within metal music. When sampling comes up, the idea of art theft is broached. And this got me thinking. Jump Scare‘s antagonists are cannibals, and, if you think about it, sampling is a form of art theft. And what is art theft if not a form of self-cannibalism?
Jump Scare weirdly embodies this analogue of art theft = cannibalism. When art STOPS being original, when artistry is stripped away, are we not just creating more of the same? That’s why mainstream music, a la songs heard on any IHEARTRADIO station, doesn’t sit well with many people. That’s not to say sampling (or paying homage) is bad by any means. It’s when the main appeal of your song (or film) is solely predicated on work done [better] by others that came before, then what the hell are we doing?
Proper Homage vs. Soulless Ripoffs
That’s why Jump Scare works so well. There’s one particular scene that could easily be described as Hobbie’s version of the ear scene in Reservoir Dogs. But even in this explicitly blatant reference, Hobbie still makes it his own. Every time you watch one of those YouTube compilations that shows the original version and Tarantino’s version next to each other, it’s nearly impossible to tell the difference. It’s where substance and style clash. I love a Tarantino film (not the man) as much as the next person, but it’s impossible to watch one of his films without questioning, “which filmmaker did he steal this from?” While watching Jump Scare, you can pick out the inspiration without feeling bogged down by a soulless ripoff.
Jump Scare surprised me until the very last second, something that films struggle to do nowadays. God, I sound old. If you’re looking for a truly insane double feature, you could easily pair this film with Chainsaws Were Singing or All Jacked Up and Full of Worms. But if you just want to see the most truly surprising Eric Roberts cameo, then Jump Scare will fill that void for you.
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.
