I've spent the weekend in one of my natural habitats, the film festival I wander through them like a Bigfoot in the woods. In case you're wondering the other natural habitat is "used bookstore," for obvious reasons. My brain is fried from film, late-nights, free-drinks and a million new friends and conversations, but I'll do my best to be coherent. My first feature film that I wrote and produced, Arrive Alive, had its premiere at the Tallgrass Film Festival. It's the hometown fest and its WONDERFUL! Better than some much larger fests that I've been too, with a caring and cool staff and solid movie choices. Besides a murder's row of great movies to watch film fests are an incredibly fun place to meet new film-minded buddies. But more on that later.
Early on Thursday of the fest I had my mind blown by a fellow Kansas filmmakers Austin Snell's new movie, They Call Her Death. A homage to my early (and continuous) film love, Spaghetti westerns. It was shot on glorious 16mm with vintage equipment and completely captured the style, grit, grim, blood and love of an Italian production from the late-60s. I think a lot of people have the wrong notion that Italian movies (outside of Fellini, Antonioni and the like) were all cheap knockoffs of American movies and are mostly jokes due to the dubbing, the Italian sense of humor and the Grand Guignol leanings of their violence. They were big dogs in the world film market, pretty much second only to the U.S. They were professional filmmakers bending the lines of filmmaking and crafting a new visual landscape out of necessity and artistic leanings. Obviously, Leone was quick accepted as the genius he was, but the rest had to struggle for their world-wide expectance. It's just in the era of boutique Blu-Ray levels are we seeing some wonderful new reappraisals of oft-looked-over directors and series. I'll watch the 100th Django knock-off or a Fulci cosmic-gore-picture over most modern film any day.
They Call Her Death is about pig-farmer Molly Pray (Sheri Rippel) hits the bloody trail of vengeance after a bounty hunter (Devan Garcia) kills her beloved husband (Patrick Poe). Along the way Molly grows and changes into a masked (shades of 66's Johnny Colt) stone killer as she uncovers the local conspiracy that may have had something to do with her husband's death. There are gunfights, gold bars, awesome miniatures, fisticuffs, explosions, blood and guts (literally) and some wonderful SUPRISING moments. The jolts of humor come from stress-relieve after shocking gore and the "stock" town characters, something EVERY western's needs, drunk dicks, barflies, sassy bartenders, and eventually Dané Shobe as the dedicated deputy who rides along with Molly. It's a hand-crafted movie that works incredibly well. It even veers into uncharted territories, let's just say Italian Horror was also on Austin's mind; to keep you guessing but I'm not spoiling anything.
Obviously, the dedication to the recreation of the feel of Italian cinema is commendable. But without solid characters to latch onto a homage can feel hollow, luckily you feel for Molly Pray. And interestingly she's not a totally innocent character. This isn't the standard "women's revenge" picture, though obviously stuff like They Call Her One-Eye is in its DNA, but Molly's a different kind of lead. She's a hard-bitten woman even before the death of her husband, perhaps a little "nicer" but not an innocent.
If you're interested in this kind of movie, I'm sure you're aware of Grindhouse, the Tarantino/Rodriguez joint that pushed a lot of these kind of movies to the movie-nerd forefront. It also started a wave of filmmakers to make grindhouse-style films. Some good like Hobo with a Shotgun, others, uh, not good. Good news if that turns you off, because it's not that. It's not all faux-film grain and sepia tone for "effect," it's a well-crafted film with a certain look and it's so much fun that you forget all about the aesthetic and just chug along with the picture. Probably with a smile on your face or maybe wincing at the gore.
To be transparent, I have been hearing rumblings of this movie for a while. The film scene in Kansas is nebulous and small. I know a few of the people in it, one stayed at my house during the fest (Hi, Patrick!) and the other actor dies in my film as well. So, I was ready to see it and luckily it lived up to expectations. Also, I hung out with director Austin, make-up man Jake Jackson and producer Adam Jeffers. All cool dudes, but if I didn't LOVE the movie, I would have slunk into the night and not written this review.
And here's the good news this week (through November 3rd, 2024) you can WATCH this movie (and mine if you want) buy purchasing a Virtual Pass to watch it before most folks and be super cool.
Now, while I have occasionally done movie reviews in the past on the blog here, it has mostly devolved into a dedicated book blog, so I can't let you leave without some book recommendations if you watch They Call Her Death and have a hankerin' for bloody, spicy western books, there's some good 'uns. The Joe Millard's for the further adventures of The Man with No Name, George G. Gilman's Edge for their bloody violence, John Benteen's Fargo for some rollicking action, and a double dose of Joe R. Lansdale, one as Ray Slater for its rock-solid western feel and Dead in the West for the touch of the "weird western" sub-genre.