Film Fests
[REVIEW] Panic Fest 2024: Tony Burgess Shines With ‘The Hyperborean’
Family patriarch Hollis (Tony Burgess) calls his kids and their spouses up to his luxurious wooded property to reveal the plan for his whiskey company’s final whiskey. Where the whiskey came from is dubious and surely won’t come back to bite them in the ass. The story is told through Mr. Denbok (Justin Bott), Hollis’s crisis manager, as he tries to navigate through each story of those who survived that fateful night. Say what you will about his new whiskey, but you can’t say it isn’t full-bodied.
When you think of zombie films, what’s the first one that comes to mind? Dawn of the Dead? 28 Days Later? Train to Busan? Those are all great picks, and I would not fault you for any of those. For me, it’s Tony Burgess’s Pontypool. I’ve read the novel. I’ve read the stage play. I’ve watched the film multiple times. Pontypool is one of the most inventive and original takes on zombies. I was ecstatic when I found out one of my all-time favorite writers had his newest film playing at Panic Fest. To boot, my favorite writer is tackling one of my favorite conspiracy theories? Hell yes.
Family patriarch Hollis (Tony Burgess) calls his kids and their spouses up to his luxurious wooded property to reveal the plan for his whiskey company’s final whiskey. Where the whiskey came from is dubious and surely won’t come back to bite them in the ass. The story is told through Mr. Denbok (Justin Bott), Hollis’s crisis manager, as he tries to navigate through each story of those who survived that fateful night. Say what you will about his new whiskey, but you can’t say it isn’t full-bodied.
Where to start with The Hyperborean. Firstly, this film marks the fifth collaboration between director Jesse Thomas Cook and writer Tony Burgess. It’s clear they have formed an artistic connection, and Cook, besides Pontypool director Bruce McDonald, understands the intricacies of a Burgess script. The Hyperborean plays like if Quentin Dupieux directed Knives Out and if Benoit Blanc was inspired by Admiral Byrd. Cook takes Burgess’s extravagantly weird ideas and makes them palatable and understandable for regular audiences while finding ways to subtly nod at those who dare to look deeper into the abyss.
Does The Hyperborean make sense? Yes, but in a Tony Burgess way. Tony Burgess is a divisive writer. His style is frustrating in the most impressive way possible. The way he can elicit emotion from his characters in the strangest ways is impressive and deserves to be studied. The film becomes fully realized from the incredible performances. Cook was able to direct this ragtag group of nepo babies in a way that doesn’t feel forced in any way. Some of the sentences, bits, and gags should not work one bit. But there’s something about the world Burgess creates that makes it all feel acceptable and natural.
Also, Tony Burgess plays Hollis, and it’s honestly a sight to behold. From his initial scene of cup therapy, to when he tries and talk to a scientist in a pre-recorded video, it’s pure gold. Burgess chews up the scenery every chance he gets, and leaves no scraps. Some say, if you say Tony Burgess four times in the mirror at night he’ll show up behind you and whisper, “Kill means kiss,” in your ear.
When the reveal and the horror arrives, it’s almost unfortunate. On the surface, the film is enjoyable when it exists just as a dysfunctional family dramedy. It gets to the point where you love to hate (or vice versa) this family so much that when the horror kicks off, you genuinely don’t want anything bad to happen to them. Fret not; the film stays comedically relevant through the entire runtime, but Burgess takes the time to build up to a grand reveal. Horror comedies often find themselves in a predicament where they have to earn the horror. And if the writer cannot craft perfect scenarios to justify and make audiences accept the horror, then it’s pointless. Burgess earns every bit of horror that comes our way, whether the audience accepts it or not.
The Hyperborean was unquestionably my favorite film from Panic Fest. It’s full of heart, comedy, horror, and Hyperboreans. You would think revealing the film’s big twist in the title would work against it; instead, it keeps you on the edge of your seat and makes you question how Burgess can even make that turn into horror. If you liked the mixture of comedic musings and existential dread prevalent in Pontypool, then you’re going to be in good hands with The Hyperborean.
Haunted house stories are a staple in the horror genre. But it’s not often that a haunted house film digs its way under your skin and stays there long after the credits roll. Enter Recluse, celebrating its world premiere at the 2026 Tribeca Film Festival.
A Disturbing Return Home Fuels Recluse’s Story
Joan Wyatt, a young and troubled audio engineer, is called back to her childhood home following a bizarre accident in which her father, the famous artist Lawrence Wyatt, was engulfed in flames and left in critical condition. Joan has been estranged from her father for quite some time, so when his longtime housekeeper Lydia leaves a voicemail telling her that he likely doesn’t have a lot of time left, she ignores it. But then Lawrence himself calls, telling Joan that he’s been seeing her mother—who disappeared when Joan was a child—around the house.
Joan arrives to find Lydia armed with a crossbow to ward off Lawrence’s obsessive fans. Her father is bed-bound with severe burns, and is being cared for by a hired nurse around Joan’s age named Emily. Lawrence, who notoriously experimented with psychedelics and occult practices during his career, is barely coherent and keeps his face concealed underneath a crude plaster mask. He keeps asking about his “little spider.” It’s disturbing and deeply upsetting, especially since Joan already has a lifetime of trauma associated with the house. Now that she’s back, she begins to suspect that these “ghosts” aren’t metaphorical. Lawrence was not a good man… but something even more sinister may be lurking in the house.
Henry Chaisson Reinvents the Haunted House Formula
Recluse, written and directed by Henry Chaisson, is a masterfully crafted debut feature that takes familiar elements of the haunted house genre—like a remote mansion as the setting, traumatic family secrets, and supernatural mischief—and twists them into something fresh and, well, twisted.
Sasha Frolova Leads an Exceptional Ensemble Cast
Sasha Frolova stars as Joan, delivering a performance that is both believable and compelling. She’s easy to root for throughout the film, especially as she contends with her father’s unwaveringly loyal housekeeper Lydia, brilliantly played by Toby Poser. Mia Vallet’s portrayal of Emily is also noteworthy, commanding attention from her first appearance all the way to the end. Kimball Farley plays Lydia’s son and Joan’s friend Todd with the perfect balance of levity and tension. Frankie Seratch is enjoyable to watch as the opportunistic nepo baby art dealer Tom. Rounding out the cast is Xander Berkeley as Lawrence; even from behind a mask, his performance is intense and chilling. Berkeley even provided some of his own art to be used in the film.
Sound Design and Cinematography Create Unrelenting Terror
The cast is far from the film’s only strength, though. Sound design by Matthew Rollins will have you death-gripping your seat in the best way, and serves as an integral part of the story itself. Production designer Yulanda Yo-Rong Shieh and art director Ana María Kalvo absolutely nailed the set and made the Wyatt family mansion simultaneously sprawling and claustrophobic.
Finally, we have the beautiful and (appropriately) haunting cinematography by Bryce Holden, supported by the editing prowess of Nik Voytas, Josh Lobo, and Henry Chaisson. Not only did they maintain an air of unrelenting suspense throughout the entire film, but they also executed some of the most disturbing and bone-chilling jump scares I’ve seen in recent years.
Seriously: One of those jump scares made me feel physically ill. You’ll know it when you see it for yourself.
Recluse had its world premiere at Tribeca Film Festival 2026.
“I promise, no one’s leaving here smarter tonight,” laughs Frank from the stage as he kicks off Cabane à Sang for its 9th annual trash horror film festival. The programming delivers an eclectic mix of gory, comedic, and bizarre short films from around the globe to a dedicated audience of enthusiastic fans.
What Is Cabane à Sang? A Quebec-Born Underground Horror Festival
Cabane à Sang (which translated to English means “Blood shack”, a play on the Quebecois termphrase cabane à sucre / sugar shack) is a homegrown festival based in Hochelaga, a densely populated working class neighborhood on the east side of Montreal, Québec. For $18 (CA$), you can enjoy hours of meticulously curated madness. A can of local microbrew is $6, a can of soda is $2, and you are guaranteed to see some shit you’ve never seen before in your life.
“We want everyone to be able to come to the fest. Shows for $18 don’t really exist anymore,” insisted organizer Marc-Antoine in a franglais conversation between him, myself and Frank before Saturday’s “Keep It Weird” show (note: some quotes have been translated to English). Frank tells me about the festival’s early days as a road show. “It was a total fucking flop!” he laughs, but the branding was strong, so after taking a year off to regroup, the 2nd edition had people lining up early to attend, surprising even the organizers.
Photo Courtesy of Cabane à Sang
How Cabane à Sang Adapted During COVID and Found a Permanent Home
The pandemic forced the team to adapt again (Quebecers faced some of the harshest COVID restrictions in North America), and they ended up live streaming a jerry-rigged MTV-style projection screen to show the films while audiences participated in the chat. After moving around to a few locations and struggling with a host of technical difficulties, they landed at Productions Jeun’Est, an old church that’s since been turned into an event space. “This year is really next level,” says Marc-Antoine. “We need to highlight the tech crew here, who are just hallucinant (incredible),” as well as the venue, he continued, who’ve “really welcomed us and helped us out.”
This year’s edition features 5 evenings of madness spread out over two weekends. The first weekend hosted the events SCIF’HIGH (promising the “best and worst” of science fiction), RE-Animation (exploring a “wide range of animation styles”), and their signature event, Keep It Weird (a mix of “proudly off-putting short films”). The second weekend will feature Mixed Meats (an “unhinged mix of every corner of horror”) and their infamous 200$ or less film competition – the Party Pooper Spectacular (this year, the theme is Pizza Horror). A $20 virtual pass to the whole fest is available online for those with the misfortune of missing the in person experience.
Why Filmmakers and Fans Take This “Trash” Horror Festival Seriously
Despite the goofy themes, the team of ten-ish organizers take their roles seriously, and are thrilled to have landed in a venue that can give the films the respect they deserve. “Our setup is a bit punk, but I just think about the filmmakers,” insists Marc Antoine. “They put in so much work, it’s normal that we do them justice with a good screening.” Frank echoes this sentiment. “Some stuff [we get] is not necessarily gory or cheap or whatever. They’re just, like, oddities, and they deserve to be seen, you know? And tonight we’re going to see some of them!”
People are already showing up when I arrive an hour early to Saturday’s show (unheard of in a city like Montreal, where showing up 45 min after doors open is the norm). The vibes stay immaculate, thanks to the team’s guiding motto: Don’t be an asshole. “Like legit, this is our only fucking rule here,” laughs Frank, and it applies to everyone, including the filmmakers. “I think we all love this project because it allows us to showcase stuff that we personally like and that we don’t see anywhere else,” says Marc-Antoine.
‘Dom’s Spaghetti’ Courtesy of Cabane à Sang
Weird, Gross, and Brilliant: Inside Cabane à Sang’s Most Bizarre Short Films
True to their words, the evening’s programming features some truly mind bending films, grouped together under ‘themes’ like ‘films that feature bread’ or ‘films that start with the letter D’. For every serious film about war or depression, there are five that are totally absurd. (Frank assures me that they’ve got “plenty of movies with dicks and poop and stuff like that!”) There’s the lesbian eldritch love story inspired by The Thing (The Fling), and there’s a meat-witch orgy movie (Plant Mom). One film is simply about a haunted bidet (Bidet), another features every cinematic iteration of Vin Diesel (Dom’s Spaghetti). Then there’s the mixed media movie Dog Shit, described perfectly as “parfum de caca, marteau dans les couilles” (I’ll leave you all to translate that one yourselves).
As the evening wraps up, Frank reminds the audience to return the following week, before yelling “Shout out bébé Jésus!” to enthusiastic applause, given that we are all sitting in a church. “Over the years, people have come from all over, from Abitibi, from the US,” Marc-Antoine tells me. “Ya, they fly in!!” adds Frank, “we don’t have the money to fucking pay for their flights!” Marc-Antoine continues, saying, “that shows that this really connects with people, locally, yes, but people all over are moved by what we’re doing. We’re going up against some big machines, some big productions, but we’re able to connect with people all the same.”
Cabane à Sang Proves That Micro-Budget Horror is More Important Than Ever
“People are fed up also, and I don’t want to get into the whole fucking AI thing,” Frank adds, “but I think a lot of people are irritated about it. We’re sitting in a great position right now.” When talking about the upcoming film competition on May 9th, I learned that they’ve got 22 unique micro budget works lined up, with an additional slate of films that will soon be on their streaming site, Caban à Sang TV. “AI cannot fucking make this shit up,” Frank says. “This is honest, this is real.”
