The Year in Review: The Best Horror Films of 2015

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2015, A Christmas Horror Story, A Girl Walks Home Alone At Night, Best of 2015, Bone Tomahawk, cinema, Cooties, Creep, Deathgasm, film reviews, films, Gravy, horror, horror films, Motivational Growth, Movies, personal opinions, Tales of Halloween, The Boy, The Final Girls, The Nightmare, The Voices, We Are Still Here, What We Do in the Shadows

At long last, we come to one of the year’s big lists: the 15 Best Horror Films of 2015. I screened 73 new horror films in 2015 and managed to whittle the group down to the following creme de la creme.

There was nothing easy about the rankings, below, but I’m pretty confident that I’ve made the right decisions. Many of these have made there way on to plenty of year-end lists, while I’m wagering that others will be a little bit more unsung. Regardless, they all deserve the maximum love possible. As far as I’m concerned, any horror fan will find something to love in these fifteen films: it might require a slight leap of faith but these are all more than worthy. Some, of course, are more worthy than others. In that spirit, I present to you the 15 Best Horror Films of 2015.

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15.

The Nightmare

Few films stuck with me quite as much as Rodney Ascher’s documentary about sleep paralysis. The film is far from perfect and can often tip from self-serious into slightly corny but it was just impossible for me to shake some of the stories. The bit involving the shared experience with the demonic cat is, no pun intended, literally the stuff of nightmares.

14.

A Christmas Horror Story

Despite the fact that one of the segments in this seasonal-minded horror film is a real snoozer (the one about the kids investigating their haunted school), this is actually one of the better anthologies to come out amidst the recent glut of same. Shatner is a heap of fun as the progressively more inebriated radio DJ and many of the segments, particularly the gonzo one involving Santa fighting off zombie elves at the North Pole, pack a legitimate punch. Well-made, well-acted and lots of fun.

13.

We Are Still Here

This slow-burn nod to Italian gore maestro Lucio Fulci would have scored higher but there were a few stumbles on the way to the truly unforgettable Grand Guignol conclusion. If the build-up can sometimes come off a little too over-the-top, the payoff does a pretty damn good job of replicating Hell on earth. Suffice to say that I’m deathly curious to see where director Ted Geoghegan goes from here.

12.

Creep

At first, I had absolutely no idea what to expect from this found-footage film featuring funnyman Mark Duplass as an extremely sad, extremely lonely and dying oddball who takes a cue from the Michael Keaton weeper My Life and has a filmmaker document his life for his young child. Turns out I should have expected one of the most genuinely creepy, weird, unsettling and flat-out horrifying films of the whole year. The finale is a real masterstroke but Peachfuzz and “tubby time” will probably haunt my dreams until the day I die.

11.

Tales of Halloween

Tales of Halloween might not be the best Halloween-themed horror anthology out there (I still think that Michael Dougherty’s Trick ‘r Treat handily holds that title) but there’s nothing wrong with being the second best, at least in this case. While not all of the segments stick their landings and there’s a lamentable lack of cohesion between the various stories, this was still a tremendous amount of fun, full of outrageous scenarios, great effects and a genuine love for the season. When fan service is this smart and well-done, who can complain?

10.

Deathgasm

If you’re a metal-head, I’m willing to wager that you’re gonna love Kiwi-export Deathgasm: I am and I did. Fast, funny, inappropriate (beating a demon to death with dildos), explosively violent and always smarter than it seems, Deathgasm is a real labor of love and it shows. One of my favorite things here is the thoroughly organic way in which sweet, innocent and decidedly non-metal Kimberley Crossman evolves into a tough-as-nails, demon slaughtering ass-kicker. This fusion of horror, metal and laughs is a winner from start to finish.

9.

The Final Girls

This heartfelt horror-comedy, essentially a nostalgic, slasher flick variation on Woody Allen’s Purple Rose of Cairo, was easily one of the sweetest films I saw all year, horror or otherwise. With a focus that prizes the mother-daughter relationship between Malin Ackerman and Taissa Farmiga as much as it does the snide critiques of ’80s horror film cliches and the rapid-fire, witty dialogue, this is the one film on this list that I would expect to easily appeal to mainstream audiences. Just the scene scored by “Bette Davis Eyes,” alone, would place this in the top ten of the year.

8.

Motivational Growth

Few films are genuinely weird but Motivational Growth is genuinely, undeniably weird…and I absolutely love it. Disturbing, grimy, hallucinatory, dryly funny and incredibly smart, writer-director Don Thacker’s odd little puzzler about a loner who receives life advice from talking bathroom mold (voiced with absolute gusto by genre legend Jeffrey Combs) lulls you into a sense of numb complacency before hitting you so hard that it, literally, takes the wind out of you. This was fearless, fascinating and nearly peerless filmmaking: I think Thacker might be the new Henenlotter, which makes Motivational Growth the new Basket Case. If you can stomach it, this is unforgettable.

7.

The Boy

This measured, subtle and thoroughly frightening look at a disturbed young boy taking the first tentative steps towards misanthropy and serial killing features powerhouse performances from David Morse and Rainn Wilson (playing completely against type and succeeding fabulously at it) but its young Jared Breeze who steals the entire film. As the titular character, Breeze displays a world-weary sensibility far beyond his years, turning in a performance that’s complex, quietly devastating and undeniably impressive. The Boy is not only a truly great, gripping horror film: it’s a truly great, gripping character study that deserves serious critical consideration.

6.

A Girl Walks Home Alone At Night

Drawing from Spaghetti Westerns, Hammer horror, black and white indie art films and the oeuvre of John Hughes, Iranian-American filmmaker Ana Lily Amirpour’s A Girl Walks Home Alone at Night is the kind of “everything and the kitchen sink” affair that shouldn’t work but does…and fantastically so. Endlessly moody, beautifully shot and possessed of an atmosphere that’s equal parts sad nostalgia, old-fashioned romanticism and smoldering sexuality, this was thought-provoking eye candy that signals Amirpour has a filmmaker to keep an eye on in the future.

5.

Cooties

With pre-release buzz that had me anticipating this little gem for almost a year, the chance for disappointment was high. My faith was strong, however, and the reward was one of the best, funniest and most outrageous horror-comedies I’ve seen in years. The ensemble cast is pitch-perfect (Elijah Wood, Rainn Wilson, Alison Pill, Nasim Pedrad, Leigh Whannell and Jack McBrayer turn in some of their best work), the concept is utterly choice (grade-school kids get infected by bad chicken nuggets and turn into ferocious, blood-thirsty zombies, leading to a standoff with the teachers at a beleaguered school), the effects are good and gory and the humor is smart, constant and in suitably bad taste. This might have been the party movie of the year if not for others on this list.

4.

Gravy

Of all the films I screened in 2015, few surprised me as much as Gravy. Everything about this screamed low-rent (that cover art is so bad, it actually works against the film) but the actual movie was just about as good as it gets. This story about a trio of cannibals who take the employees of a Mexican restaurant hostage, at closing time, on All Hallows’ Eve, is one delightful surprise after another: the cast is amazing, the gore effects are mind-blowing (literally!), the humor setpieces are hilarious and the film is consistently smart and ruthlessly dedicated to shattering expectations. If this hadn’t been such a great year for genre films, this would have topped my list, hands down: the fact that a movie this good ended up at number four speaks volumes.

3.

What We Do In the Shadows

I laughed, I cried, I loved: What We Do in the Shadows was, hands-down, the most crowd pleasing, purely fun horror film of the entire year. This New Zealand export slams the humor elements into the scoreboard so hard that the genuinely emotional dramatic elements almost seem like an unfair victory lap. Go ahead and close the book on any future mockumentaries about the drudgeries of modern life for age-old vampires: What We Do in the Shadows is the only one you’re ever gonna need.

2.

Bone Tomahawk

I love horror movies, I love Westerns and I love Kurt Russell: first-time director S. Craig Zahler would have really had to work overtime to screw up Bone Tomahawk, as far as I’m concerned. As it so happens, the film is an instant classic, the kind of long-abandoned filmmaking that prides atmosphere, mood and character development over instant gratification or dumbed down thrills. The first two thirds are primo, dusty oater, with one of the most effortlessly badass performances by Russell that the veteran badass has ever committed to celluloid. When the horror elements kick in, however, Zahler not only doesn’t lose his footing but promptly plants his boot through the audience’s skull. Uncompromising, beautiful, elegant and full of genuine “holy shit” moments, they really don’t get much better than Bone Tomahawk, horror or otherwise.

1.

The Voices

I saw this little jewel way back at the beginning of the year and it’s stuck with me ever since: I had a feeling it might end up at the top of my list back then and, as it turns out, my instincts were correct. Everything about auteur Marjane Satrapi’s beautifully skewed examination of mental illness is sheer perfection, from the candy-colored visuals to the magical realism elements to the astounding, scraped-raw performance by Ryan Reynolds.

This is a film that lulls you in with its gorgeous cinematography and slightly silly concept (Reynolds receives life advice from his talking dog and cat) before thrusting you headfirst into a screaming maelstrom of murder, insanity and pure emotional pain. The Voices is playful, quirky and utterly devastating, the kind of perfect cinematic experience that comes along all too rarely and functions as a breath of fresh air in an increasingly septic atmosphere: it’s horror as art, the purest form of validation that the much maligned genre could ever receive.

With no hyperbole whatsoever, The Voices should receive award season love: Satrapi should be nominated for Best Director, Reynolds should receive a Best Actor nomination and the film, itself, should be on the shortlist for best film of the year (with so much stiff competition, it would never win but certainly deserves the acknowledgment). The world doesn’t work that way, of course, so Satrapi’s perfect examination of mental illness will probably end up a footnote in the year that was 2015.

I’m here to say, however, that it was more than that: much more than that. As far as I’m concerned, The Voices was not only the best horror film of 2015 but one of the very best films I’ve seen in quite some time. I have a feeling that time will be kind to the film and future audiences will see it for the absolute gem it is. In a rich, full year of horror, Satrapi’s The Voices still managed to stand head and shoulders above the competition: as far as I’m concerned, that’s an achievement of the highest possible order.

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Halftime Report: The Best Films of 2015 (So Far)

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A Girl Walks Home Alone At Night, Best of 2015, best-of lists, Buzzard, cinema, Creep, Faults, film reviews, films, Motivational Growth, Movies, op-ed pieces, personal lists, Reality, Slow West, The Voices, Welcome to Me

With the year more than halfway through, what better time to take a preliminary look back at the films that, in my humble little opinion, have been the very best of a pretty good eight months? Since there are still 4.5 months left and plenty of potentially incredible movies still to be seen (Goodnight Mommy, The Martian, Crimson Peak, Suffragette, Scout’s Guide to the Zombie Apocalypse, Cooties, Tales of Halloween, Bone Tomahawk, Before I Wake, Final Girls, Trumbo, Krampus, The Hateful Eight and Revenant are all on my “must-see” list, along with a raft of others), this is by no means a complete list: there is no particular order to anything, no sense of ranking or any of that jazz…yet, at least.

And now, with no further ado, my nine favorite films of 2015 (so far):

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Welcome to Me

I absolutely adored everything about this smart, quirky and endlessly charming look at a woman with borderline personality disorder who wins the lottery and decides to launch her own talk show. In an era where narcissism seems to be the new norm, Shira Piven’s constantly surprising film has plenty to say about the way we view ourselves, the world around us and all of the wonderful misfits that inhabit it. Above all else, Kristen Wiig is a complete marvel and one of my early picks for Best Actress of the Year. I dare anyone to watch this and not be pounded senseless by your own emotions.

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Slow West

Not only one of the very best films I saw this year but one of the very best Westerns I’ve seen in longer than I can remember, Slow West has “modern-day classic” written all over it. The story of a teenage, Scottish greenhorn and the “reformed” outlaw who chaperones him through the wild and woolly West, Slow West is full of masterful performances (I predict a Best Supporting Actor nod for Mendelsohn), gorgeous cinematography and a wildly unpredictable streak of magical-realism that feels like the Coen Brothers by way of Wes Anderson. Nearly perfect and essential viewing.

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Faults

Nothing about this effortlessly bold, thought-provoking film is spoon-fed or obvious and that’s just the way I like ’em. While Faults may seem overly familiar on the outside (if anything, the “male deprogrammer vs female cult member” synopsis makes this seem like a riff on Jane Campion’s odd Holy Smoke (1999)), the film manages to spiral out into a million different directions, like meteors vaulting into the sky instead of the other way around. Essentially a two-person character study, Leland Orser and Mary Elizabeth Winstead prove so magnetic and compelling that we don’t really need any other characters: I would have happily spent 3 hours with these two, making this the rare case of a film where I just didn’t want it to end.

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Creep

If you look at him, Mark Duplass is probably the very last person you’d cross the street to avoid: with his constant grin, sarcastic demeanor and doofy “every-man” bearing, Duplass seems like the epitome of the comedy “lifer.” Immense kudos to Duplass and co-writer/director Patrick Brice, then, for managing to make the character of Josef such a thoroughly unnerving, unsettling and, ultimately, absolutely terrifying presence. The film gradually ratchets up the tension, lulling the viewer into a false sense of security until it’s too late to realize that the subtle increase in temperature we’ve been feeling has been the duo turning the knob from “simmer” to “blast-furnace.” By that point, it’s far too late: our geese have already been cooked.

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A Girl Walks Home Alone at Night

Like the mutant offspring of Jim Jarmusch and John Hughes, Ana Lily Amirpour’s A Girl Walks Home Alone at Night is equal parts art and nostalgia, teen angst and existential angst. Billed as “the first Iranian Vampire Western” and shot in gorgeous black and white, there’s a narcotic, hallucinogenic quality to the film’s gauzy cinematography and even hazier moral outlook that’s not quite like anything else out there. When Amirpour wants to draw blood, however, she’s as fearless as any horror auteur before her.

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Buzzard

As a big fan of both counterculture and “weird” films, Buzzard is the very best example of getting peanut butter in my chocolate. Fiercely anti-authoritarian, casually offensive, as fidgety as a meth addict on a bender and given to breaking minds at the drop of a hat (the film’s finale is almost as mind-melting as the conclusion to Villeneuve’s Enemy (2014), which is no mean feat), Buzzard is one of those films that’s best experienced…no mere plot description could do justice to this fundamentally cracked depiction of a day in the life of one of the most staunchly individualistic antiheroes since Holden Caulfield first flipped off the phonies some sixty years ago.

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Reality

Full disclosure: I’ve never met a Quentin Dupieux film that I wasn’t madly in love with. Period. In a world where filmmakers seem to outnumber grains of sand on the beach, Dupieux is a true visionary, a genius filmmaker whose surreal paeans to the absurdity of modern life just don’t look or feel quite like anyone else. While Reality isn’t quite as perfect as either Wrong (2012) or Wrong Cops (2014), it’s still a thoroughly mind-blowing, utterly insane and completely wonderful trip through a true artist’s immensely fucked-up mind.

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The Voices

If you would have told me that one of the most amazing, stylish, disturbing and original horror films of the year would star Ryan Reynolds and be directed by Persepolis’ (2007) Marjane Satrapi…well…I would have absolutely agreed with you, hands down. You see, advance word of mouth was so strong with The Voices (Satrapi’s first ever attempt at a horror flick) that I was already predisposed to love it before I even had a chance to see it. Luckily, this was one case of the hype being downplayed: The Voices isn’t just an amazing film…it’s a goddamn revelation and should have achieved instant classic status. Instead, this dark fable about an exceptionally disturbed man and the talking cat and dog who “guide” him is the very definition of a sleeper. In a perfect world, Reynolds would be looking at a Best Actor nomination for his performance and Satrapi would be looking at a Best Director nod for hers. If dreams really do come true, I hope Puppy Goo Goo fetches this one just for me.

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Motivational Growth

I had zero idea of what to expect going into this (the synopsis was intriguingly gonzo and it featured Jeffrey Combs, so I was definitely on-board) and precious little idea of what I had just seen when it was over. The only thing I did know? I wanted more, more, more, just like that greedy little shit, Oliver T. Motivational Growth is genuinely weird (as in “early David Lynch on acid” weird), incredibly grungy, more than a little gross, completely disturbing, uncomfortably thought-provoking, a little sad, totally outrageous, certainly not for polite company and, without a shadow of a doubt, one of my very favorite films of the entire year (the film officially received festival play in 2013 but didn’t get any kind of wider distribution until this year, hence, its relative age vs release discrepancy). What’s it about? In a nutshell, a shut-in receives life-coaching advice from a large patch of talking fungus on his bathroom wall. Terrible, hilarious, gross things ensue. In other words: this is unmitigated greatness not seen in these parts for some time.

And there you have it: my favorite nine films of 2015, thus far. I’ll leave you with a short list of the runners-up, those films that just fell short of making my short list. Let’s check back and do this all over again in 4.5 months, shall we?

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Runner-Ups (So Far)

Digging Up the Marrow

Honeymoon

Wolfcop

Zombeavers

It Follows

Spring

2/21/15 (Part One): The Mold Knows, Jack

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Adrian DiGiovanni, Alex Mauer, bizarre, Bliss Holloway, breaking the fourth wall, cinema, Danielle Doetsch, dark comedies, Don Thacker, fake commericals, fake TV shows, feature-film debut, film reviews, films, Frank Henenlotter, Hannah Stevenson, horror, horror movies, Ian Folivor, insanity, isolation, Jeffrey Combs, Ken Brown, life coach, loneliness, Meet the Hollowheads, Motivational Growth, Movies, Pete Giovagnoli, Quentin Dupieux, real world, Robert Kramer, self-help, speaking to camera, talking mold, television, The Dark Backward, video games, weird films, writer-director-editor

Many films flirt with the weird: they sidle along the edges, dipping a toe into the bizarre here and there but never fulling committing to go all-in. Sure, we might get a few strange situations, maybe an oddball character or two but the end result is usually much more conventional than the starting destination. For most people, “weird” is a great vacation spot but not quite where they want the mail forwarded. Some films, however, cannonball right into the middle of bizarre, clipping the safety nets, making all the foolhardy moves and taking leaps of faith that make the Grand Canyon look like a sinkhole. For folks that like their films fearless, thought-provoking and original, however, there’s nothing quite like coming across a genuinely weird, legitimately “out there” movie, especially if it burns the rule book in the process.

As a lifelong, devoted follower of the weird in all of its strange, wonderful and disturbing forms, I’ve been lucky enough to see a handful of truly bizarre films over the years. Films like The Dark Backward (1989), Meet the Hollowheads (1989) and pretty much anything by Quentin Dupieux scratch a vital itch for me: the intense, burning need to be surprised, befuddled, confused and disturbed by the magic of moving pictures. I’m always looking for new films to add to this very special short-list but, as can be expected, authentically weird films don’t grow on Hollywood trees: they’re usually found on strange, deserted, creepy little patches of overgrown dirt, tucked away from the prying eyes of the mainstream and left to run riot on their own. Anytime I can uncover one of these strange little treasures, it’s an immediate cause for celebration. The newest reason to fire up the party cannon? Writer-director Don Thacker’s full-length debut Motivational Growth (2013), one of the strangest, most disturbing and flat-out coolest films I’ve seen in ages.

In a strange, deformed, asymmetrical nutshell, Motivational Growth is about Ian Folivor (Adrian DiGiovanni), a reclusive, shut-in loser and what happens after his beloved television, Kent, finally gives up the ghost. Suddenly left with no purpose to his pointless life, our eccentric host does the only sensible thing and decides to off himself, mixing up a big ol’ batch of chlorine gas in his bathtub. Turns out that Ian is as bad at dying as he is at living, however, and manages to muff the suicide attempt something fierce, falling and clocking his head on the bathroom floor, in the process. When he comes to, Ian finds out that he’s no longer alone: the enormous patch of revolting mold in his absolutely disgusting bathroom has gained sentient intelligence. Ian, meet…The Mold (Jeffrey Combs).

The Mold, as it turns out, is a chipper kind of fellow (we suppose?) and functions as sort of a life-coach to the helpless recluse, encouraging him to clean up his life in order to get all the things he desires, like his attractive next-door-neighbor, Leah (Danielle Doetsch). So far, so good: after all, if there’s anything Ian and his grubby life could use, it’s a little self-help spring cleaning. After all, he owes back-rent to his hulking, violent landlord, Box the Ox (Pete Giovagnoli), can’t afford to tip his grocery-delivery person (Hannah Stevenson), hasn’t shaved or bathed in god knows how long and seems to be the only person in the universe without a plasma TV. If bathroom mold can pull him out of rut, hey…more power to it, right?

The problem, of course, is that nothing is ever as straight-forward as it seems. Sure, The Mold is friendly, full of good cheer and knows his way around a pithy quip (“Out-there is running against Reagan in ’84…out-there is a wet T-shirt contest in a nursing home…this isn’t out-there: this is opportunity, Jack!”). On the other hand, The Mold also asks Ian to eat vile-looking “mushrooms” that pop out of it from time to time, punch holes in the walls and stuff them with raw meat and refrain from opening the front door or going outside. Ian also has to call The Mold by its proper name: forget the “The” and prepare for one severe tongue-lashing, Jack: The Mold don’t brook no crap, you hear?

As Ian finds himself more and more in thrall to The Mold, the very fabric of his home, his life and his reality begin to morph and change around him. Sinister repairmen enter the equation, the TV commercials begin to speak directly to him in some very disturbing ways and there appears to be…well…something growing out of the walls. Is Ian going crazy or is this all just part of the grand plan? Is The Mold the most laconic life coach this side of Matthew McC or does his droll personality hide a much darker, more evil side? Will Ian find true love with the equally strange Leah or is true what they say: nothing comes between a boy and his Mold?

Reading through the above synopsis, you might be inclined to imagine exactly what Motivational Growth has in store. You would be dead wrong, of course, regardless of what you initially imagined but that’s totally fine: there really is nothing that can (or should) prepare you for Thacker’s film. In fact, one of the most marvelous aspects of this thoroughly unhinged dark comedy is how radically unpredictable it is. Even when the film seems to give away a huge clue right around the midpoint, it ultimately reveals nothing at all: by the conclusion, it’s still anybody’s guess as to what’s going on, even with the seemingly obvious “clues.”

There really isn’t anything about Motivational Growth that plays out in a logical, predictable manner. Ian addresses the camera directly, although none of the other actors do, yet there’s never a consistent sense of breaking the fourth wall. We get inter-titles that seem to divide the film into chapters, although there’s no sense of organization or meaning to it. The film looks like it takes place in “our world,” yet everything is just off enough to situate us in some far-off, completely alien galaxy: none of the foodstuff resembles anything we’re used to (this aspect really reminded me of Meet the Hollowheads) and we never get a clear look outside the front door. At times, the film swings into inexplicable video-game-influenced images, a stylistic quirk that’s only reinforced by the cheerful, chiptune score…yet there’s never any reason or rational for it…it just happens. All of the acting is extremely broad and theatrical, yet the film never feels over-the-top or silly: if anything, there’s a consistent feeling of dread and encroaching doom that hangs over everything like a shroud, regardless of how manic the action on-screen gets.

Basically, nothing about Motivational Growth should work…yet it all ends up working spectacularly. While I’ll admit that the first 10 minutes was slightly rough going (Ian’s constant monologue takes a little getting used to…he pretty much never shuts up for the length of the film, although it gets much easier to take as it goes along), the film picks up speed frightfully quickly and the final half is an absolute blur of one insane, eye-popping monstrosity after the other. Once all of the elements have a chance to mix together, Thacker’s film becomes virtually unstoppable: it’s no lie to say that the final 30 minutes of the film are some of the most intense, self-assured and bat-shit insane moments that I’ve ever had the pleasure to witness. No lie: for his debut feature, Thacker comes across like a wizened veteran…think Frank Henenlotter at the height of his power and you have a pretty good idea.

At the center of the film, just like he’s at the center of Ian’s life, is genre great Jeffrey Combs’ towering vocal performance as The Mold. From his first line to his last, The Mold is an absolute treasure: I haven’t seen a film so instantly quotable since the first time I watched Pulp Fiction (1994). While the stop-motion on The Mold is excellent, it’s Combs who really brings the talking fungus to life: as weird as it sounds, it really is one of the most interesting characters to emerge in some time. For his part, Adrian DiGiovanni does a great job as Ian: while his verbal diarrhea can be tedious, at times, he fully inhabits every inch of the character like a second skin. He’s filthy, disgusting, strange, unpleasant…but he’s also weirdly sympathetic and, if you squint just right, probably looks more familiar than any of us would like to admit. While the character of Ian may stand for society in modern times, the individual in an increasingly homogeneous world or, quite possible, just folks who love to lick bathroom mold, the actor playing him always manages to keep a foot firmly in “our” reality, even when the rest of the film has leapt into a bottomless void.

On a side note, especially for folks who might be a bit more “sensitive” than most: Motivational Growth is an exceptionally disgusting film. While the movie has no shortage of violent moments (the scene that transitions from Ian “heroically” slicing a lead pipe in a Ginsu commercial to him carving other materials in the “real world” is, to say the least, bracing), there’s a nauseating aroma of body horror (ala early Cronenberg) that wafts through nearly every scene. I’m not too proud to say that I gagged several times during the film (suffice to say that poor Ian eats more rancid, “juicy” things during the course of the movie than any Fear Factor contestant ever did) and there’s one shot of a body that pretty much rewrites the rulebook on that sort of thing: if any of this sounds like it might not be your cup of tea, let me assure you…if you have to ask, it most certainly isn’t.

If you’ve got a strong stomach and a desire to see something completely fresh, invigorating and flat-out amazing, however, look no further than Motivational Growth. For a first time writer-director-editor, I found Don Thacker to be nothing short of a revelation: on the strength of this one entry, I’ve already gone ahead and reserved him a seat at the modern horror Round Table. After all, it’s not every day that you find a filmmaker who can effortlessly mix talking mold, a humorous suicide attempt, self-help gurus, television addicts and creeping, Lovecraftian existentialism into such a tasty treat. By the time you get to Box’s cheerful story about breaking chimp arms (“They won’t let you do it easy, either…they’re dirty fighters”) for fun and profit, one thing should be very clear: for better or worse, there just aren’t a lot of films like this out there. Here’s to hoping Thacker keeps pumping out these filthy jewels like clockwork: for lovers of weird cinema, we just might have found a new patron saint.