Film Fests
[REVIEW] Chattanooga Film Festival 2024: ‘Sweet Relief’ (2023) Is Modern Mumblegore Magic
A town in New England is rocked by grief, tragedy, and bloodshed. A viral internet challenge, Sweet Angel, has townspeople on edge. Children are going missing at the hands of a serial killer. And that’s just the tip of the iceberg. One woman’s quest to find the truth will find the ties that bind these terrible crimes. Can the day be saved before it’s too late?
Mumblegore became prominent in the genre at a pivotal time in my life. This niche subgenre of horror made its way into my life when a pre-film school Brendan received a copy of Ti West’s The Innkeepers. Little did I know, this would start an obsession with a singular subgenre that would last for years to come, influencing how I would look at film for the rest of my life. Something about the naturalistic dialogue, grounded plots, realistic characters, and simple storytelling done well just checked all the right boxes. While the past few years have not been absent of mumblegore films, especially when a good portion of your life is spent watching festival films, the subgenre has seemed to take a backseat to more popular subgenres. Within the first five minutes of Sweet Relief, I knew mumblegore was back on the menu.
A town in New England is rocked by grief, tragedy, and bloodshed. A viral internet challenge, Sweet Angel, has townspeople on edge. Children are going missing at the hands of a serial killer. And that’s just the tip of the iceberg. One woman’s quest to find the truth will find the ties that bind these terrible crimes. Can the day be saved before it’s too late?
What I find most fascinating about mumblegore/core is pacing. If you look at Ti West’s The Innkeepers, you know exactly what I mean. Long, continuous takes of nothing have shaped the genre into what is now considered art-house horror. Sweet Relief is no exception to unique pacing. In this subgenre, pacing goes hand in hand with the acting. Forcing your audience to sit through five minutes of a one-shot scene with unscripted dialogue only works if the improvisation can be delivered competently and professionally. There is a gentle balance between realistic film conversations and the conversations we have in real life.
Sweet Relief’s biggest issue comes from that very aspect. Now, it should be stated, that I have no clue if writer/director Nick Verdi allowed his actors to riff. If everything said in this film was scripted, then yikes. The Tarantino amount of F-bombs feels unbelievably forced and comes off as dialogue filler while the actors come up with the next thing they think their character would say. If long takes of community theater-level acting (this isn’t a slight, I was in community theater and directed community theater shows, and I love everyone I met along the way) is a possible turn-off for you, then Sweet Relief will fall incredibly flat for you.
Where Sweet Relief excels is in the overall story, some great kills, reasonable means of getting from point A to point Z, and long continuous shots of characters observing other characters. In fact, Sweet Relief would have heartily benefited from less dialogue and more observation. Watching one character stumble across the child killer disposing of a body in the woods and then following them for multiple minutes was captivating and thrilling. Then, the conversation afterward almost undoes all of the anxiety that had been built up. One thing I’ve realized about mumblegore is how it thrives off of structured chaos; Sweet Relief feels like sloppily structured chaos.
That being said, something about Sweet Relief made me feel nostalgic for my youth. I haven’t actively sought out any specific mumblegore films in a good while, but watching Sweet Relief gave me the same feeling I had when I watched The Innkeepers for the first time. It’s experiencing something you’ve seen before, only it was done in a way that most filmmakers wouldn’t dare to try and do. It takes a lot of guts to make a film like Sweet Relief. Knowing you’re actively going against the grain of what’s ‘in’ is a bold move, and I can’t help but give immense praise to Verdi for taking such a risk.
Sweet Relief is by no means an original film, but Verdi’s created a product that made me feel a way I haven’t in quite some time. Even if it isn’t the most original, you can bet you haven’t seen a festival film like this in a good while. For the Sweet Angel, I do NOT nominate Nick Verdi, and I eagerly anticipate whatever he comes out with next.
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.
