Reviews
[REVIEW] BHFF 2024: Is ‘Birdeater’ the Australian ‘Midsommar’?
Birdeater follows a group of Australian friends who embark on a weekend getaway for Louie’s (Mackenzie Fearnley) bachelor party. Louie’s girlfriend Irene (Shabana Azeez) is invited along for the trip, which seems out of the ordinary on the surface. As the weekend progresses, ugly truths spill and relationships become irreparably strained. Drugs, booze, and lies fuel this nearly two-hour descent into Aussie madness.
Many horror films have tried to emulate the charismatic atmosphere of Wake In Fright (1971), but nearly all have failed. Crafting a horror film with rich atmosphere and letting its story exist as a vehicle for the vibe is hard…maybe even impossible. Between the pacing, direction, acting, set, and all other aspects, Wake In Fright set in motion (basically) its own subgenre (Wake In Fright-esque). That’s not to say films like it hadn’t existed before, but something about Wake In Fright checks the boxes for the overwhelming majority of film viewers. The first film I had the opportunity to see for the Ninth Annual Brooklyn Horror Film Festival this year was a film that wore its Wake In Fright inspiration on its sleeve.
Birdeater follows a group of Australian friends who embark on a weekend getaway for Louie’s (Mackenzie Fearnley) bachelor party. Louie’s girlfriend Irene (Shabana Azeez) is invited along for the trip, which seems out of the ordinary on the surface. As the weekend progresses, ugly truths spill and relationships become irreparably strained. Drugs, booze, and lies fuel this nearly two-hour descent into Aussie madness.
Writer/directors Jack Clark and Jim Weir set out on their directorial feature debut(s) with this highly ambitious homage. Birdeater has the bones of a great film but that’s unfortunately all it has. Rather than being a breakdown of toxic masculinity and commenting on itself, it ends up a frustrating mess of self-righteousness. When speaking with someone post-screening, they said this film was akin to someone watching Midsommar and thinking Dani (Florence Pugh) was a bitch and Christian (Jack Reynor) got the short end of the stick. It’s impossible to say why that description is apt without spoiling much of the story, but it’s impossible not to think of that conversation when thinking of this film.
If you can get past Birdeater’s shallow story, there are quite a few interesting visual elements that help it stand out from just another Wake in Fright clone. The first half of the film has an overly naturalistic look to it. Clark and Weir, as well as cinematographer Roger Stonehouse, do a compelling job of lulling the viewer into a state of constant unease. Toward the middle half of the two-hour runtime, the filmmakers start to take chances visually. Whether these chances work for the average viewer will be incredibly subjective. It’s clear this film was conceived by men. I’m not trying to virtue signal or trying to overinterpret something that isn’t there, but even a shallow watch of this film left me feeling uncomfortable. (And not in a that’s-what-was-intended way.)
When I watch a film that doesn’t sit right with me, I still try and find the positives. Visually, Birdeater was entertaining to watch. It starts slow and subtly takes the viewer on a fascinating trip through the male psyche; what’s right, wrong, and morally questionable. Besides a few interesting visuals, Birdeater ends up being a frustrating attempt at exploring the masculine mind with zero self-awareness. If that was the point, then it was lost on me (and nearly every critic that was at the screening).
The film’s overly ambiguous ending will be used as a cop-out when criticized as misogynistic. “That’s the point!” People will say. But that’s not the point. When zero of your female characters have agency beyond how their actions affect the men, it’s clear what you’re trying to say. A single pass by a female writer would have ironed out the flat female characters, and this film could have been quite enjoyable for all. Unfortunately, Birdeater may be doomed to decompose on the side of the highway.
Reviews
Brooklyn Horror Film Festival 2025: ‘Buffet Infinity’ Review
Within the found footage subgenre exists an even more niche and untapped market. Screen life has slowly overtaken found footage; hardcore fans, like myself, ache for something different. One of the more interesting sub-subgenres of found footage is something that I don’t think has a name yet, so let’s name it here and now. How about…TV-gone-rogue! The TV-gone-rogue subgenre is small. Ghostwatch got the ball rolling for these gone rogue-like films, but there was radio silence for quite some time. It would be Chris LaMartina’s WNUF Halloween Special that really brought this idea back into the limelight. Many filmmakers have tried to make TV-gone-rogue interesting, and many have failed. That is until Simon Glassman stepped onto the scene with Buffet Infinity.
Buffet Infinity: A Chaotic Tale of Westridge
The town (city?) of Westridge is whisked into chaos when the new Buffet Infinity restaurant rolls into town. Local sandwich shop owner Jennifer Avery (Allison Bench) is the first to take the soon-to-be conglomerate to task with increasingly pointed advertisements. Suddenly, local restaurant owners/workers go missing in droves as Buffet Infinity expands into neighboring businesses. Sinkholes, missing cityfolk, quarantines, and mysterious sounds abound, leaving residents to ask one question…who really has the sauce?
On the Brooklyn Horror Film Festival schedule, the header image for Buffet Infinity shows multiple people T-posing and floating in the sky. I was immediately sold. I had no clue what I was getting into, and I didn’t want to know. The film was introduced as “one of the craziest we have this year.” (Slightly paraphrasing.) What was I about to watch? Little did I know, it was about to be an hour and forty minutes of small-town madness.
Writers Allison Bench and Elisia Snyder, and writer-director Simon Glassman, transport viewers into an upside down world of weaponized local ads; a thriving town invaded by the deep pockets of monopolized capitalism. As someone who grew up in a decently sized town, though probably not large enough to be considered a city, there was a tinge of nostalgia that accompanied Buffet Infinity. Westridge feels cozy and intimate, a town where everyone knows your name. It’s a “baked in a buttery flaky crust” town. Sure, they have their McDonald’s and Burger Kings, but the real townsfolk eat at Jennifer’s sandwich shop–local knitting circles murmur about what they think is in Jennifer’s secret sauce. Simply put, Westridge feels like a home that many people like myself grew up in. And it reminds us of a simpler time that’s long gone.
A Unique Blend of Humor and Eldritch Terror
Buffet Infinity hides its horror well. It slowly guides the viewer into a sense of unease. As easily as the creators have you laughing, they have you squirming. The absurdist joy quickly transforms into Eldritch terrors from beyond. Many filmmakers say they’re inspired by the idea of it’s-not-what-you-see that’s scary, but many times it feels performative. Bench, Glassman, and Snyder have crafted a truly special script that edges you with terror and excitement. They constantly push you to the edge of release, and then back away. It’s the Japanese water torture of exposition. And, for me, it works incredibly well.
One of the most important aspects of Buffet Infinity is the over-capitalization of our lives. While the creators tackle this idea in a tongue-in-cheek manner, their message is highly effective. For the most part. This constant tete-a-tete between Buffet Infinity and the locals is highly amusing, but brings a larger conversation to the forefront. The town I grew up in is a shadow of what it once was. And I know many feel the same about the towns they grew up in. I can already hear the moans of people who dislike this film: “Brandon, it’s not that deep.” And I would highly disagree. Buffett Infinity feels like a reflective protest film–a loud and proud middle finger at what we should have said when the Super Walmart put mom and pops out of business.
Sorry, this review has gone off the rails. Let’s reel it back in a bit.
Why Buffet Infinity Redefines Found Footage
Buffett Infinity is a riotous romp, a hilarious horror that goes from zero to 100 pretty damn fast. Each commercial slowly builds on its last and uniquely tells its story. This film sets a new precedent for the TV-gone-rogue subgenre. Not to directly compare, but a film like WNUF Halloween Special (a film I love) uses its commercials as a coda; it’s a separation of what you saw/heard and prepares you for the next movement. Buffett Infinity uses its commercial to create the story. Instead of watching news pieces, then irrelevant commercials, then back to news pieces, Buffett Infinity breaks the mold. Hell, it creates the mold.
As someone who has been dying to see a Welcome to Nightvale film, Buffett Infinity is the closest thing I could ask for. It is full of killer performances (looking at you, Ahmed Ahmed), is well-crafted, and sets a new precedent on an underutilized side of found footage. Buffett Infinity is a full-course meal. I highly suspect that Buffett Infinity will gather the unwavering support that Hundreds of Beavers gathered and will go on to be considered an instant classic of the 2020s.
Reviews
Brooklyn Horror Film Fest 2025: ‘It Needs Eyes’ Review
We are all very much aware of how much time we spend on our phones. More importantly, anyone on the internet can see how younger generations are impacted by being constantly online. So, Zack Ogle and Aaron Pagniano’s new film, It Needs Eyes, is preaching to the choir. However, it adds creepy layers to the conversations many of us are already having today.
It Needs Eyes follows a teen named Rowan (Raquel Lebish) who is moving in with her aunt after a traumatic event. Her aunt Mella (Lydia Fiore) hasn’t spoken to the family in years. So, her relationship with her niece is strained to say the least. However, she has stepped in now that Rowan’s father is in the hospital. Further widening their divide is the fact that Rowan is glued to her phone.
The Internet Is Scary
We see Rowan watching random videos, as she tries to distract herself from her own thoughts while she worries about her father. However, soon, cat videos aren’t doing it for her, and she starts to find extreme videos online. Things escalate to the point that she is watching self-harm videos and clips of people dying. This addiction begins to make it hard for her to connect with the people around her, including her new neighbor and love interest, Alex (Isadora Leiva).
It Needs Eyes has a protagonist that many can relate to. After all, aren’t we all using these smart devices to hide from our own problems? Who among us hasn’t lost an embarrassing amount of hours watching videos and reels? However, because it’s driving in the internet addiction lane, Rowan’s need for content escalates. She needs darker videos in the same way that someone makes the leap into harder drugs. Her journey parallels nicely with her father’s battle with addiction, which is one of the many things Rowan doesn’t seem ready to face.
Addiction and Loneliness are a Deadly Combo
Rowan’s addiction, loneliness, and inability to fully connect with people not on her phone eventually leads her to stumble across the ultimate score. She discovers a woman named Fishtooth (Lola Blanc) who made videos in the 80s and seemingly disappeared. Rowan cannot let this mystery go and soon begins to follow clues that Fishtooth may be closer than she thinks. This is where the creepy mystery thread begins to weave itself around all of the other threads of the film. Before Fishtooth was introduced, I was starting to worry this movie would just be seven fucked up images in a trench coat.
It Needs Eyes is one of those movies you go back and forth on. I loved discussing the themes of it in the bar after the Brooklyn Horror Film Fest screening. I even really dug some of the twisted imagery and topics it manages to tackle. The movie deserves some respect for how it handles so many issues surrounding internet culture without straying too far from its path. If you’re looking for a dark exploration of how the internet is absorbing us and preventing us from being present in our actual lives, this is your movie. It’s an interesting and at times disturbing reminder that we should all unplug more often.


