Last week I went to my first film festival, the Julien Dubuque International Film Festival (JDIFF). Most of the movies I saw there can’t be seen by normal people in normal places. Several of them aren’t on LetterBoxd or IMDB! Most of what I watched was forgettable, and yet I’d gladly go again. Because some of it absolutely ruled, and I feel like I got a sneak peak at what’s coming.
The best case scenario for most of the films here are that they find a distributor. Some studio willing to give them money and put the thing in screens, or on your third-favorite streaming service. Some of them are just happy to be where they are. These films were made by students or new filmmakers, or people without that particular aspiration. One in particular, the worst movie I saw at this festival (and possibly in my life!) knows exactly where its aspirations are: the writer/director wanted to make a movie and share it into the world. He observed the failing state of the Hollywood model and eschewed it, following the path laid out by indie music bands and comic writers, two industries that have followed a similar path.
What follows is half travelogue and half movie review. Most of what I saw was shorts (partially because you can’t watch just one — they bundle ‘em into 90 minute blocks and you’re in for the whole ride). I don’t know what success looks like for a short film, but there are a handful of these that I desperately hope get a wide release, that I want other people to see, to enjoy, and to discuss. Others could find a home on YouTube or Vimeo, relegated to the 99.999% of videos uploaded per day that never break into double digit view counts.
The first day
The moment the Uber pulled out of my driveway, I realized I had forgotten my wedding ring. Wracking my brain, I knew it had to be on my nightstand (as I’d learn later, no, it wasn’t). I debated asking the driver to wait, but decided against it. I didn’t want to be a bother.
Car to train, train to airport, mile walk to terminal. I stayed left, as the sign told me to, to avoid the shuttle that carries bags and people from the light rail stop to the airport proper. This was a mistake; I had to dive out of the way in the dim headlights of a souped-up golf cart. He glared, and I couldn’t gesture at the sign, because it was half a mile down the road. I’m sure he saw it, reflected on his grave mistake, and issued up a silent apology, one that drifted behind my, arriving in Chicago just a few hours after I did.
American Airlines neglected to put pre check on my boarding pass (a problem not unique to me!), so I went to the plebian lane, where a guard insisted I cross beyond some tape and signs to the pre check area (it’s in our system!). I nervously pass a DO NOT ENTER sign, cutting in front of a gaggle of precheck passengers to a guard who barely notices my indiscretion. The rest of the trip goes without incident.
I arrive in Chicago, take a train to my friend’s apartment, and sleep on an air mattress that more closely resembles a see-saw in texture.
The second day
Wake up at 7:30 (feels like 5:30), cross town, rent a car, 3 hours to Dubuque IA. We arrive minutes before a 2pm showing and decide to leisurely catch a 3pm showing of:
DEJA VU, which would go on to win best documentary at the festival. It was about the ongoing plight of farmers in India attempting to fight for basic promises they need in order to continue producing food. Smartly, the director clocked that the best way to raise awareness of this issue in America was to make it about Americans. So the movie is largely about how Reagan’s policies ushered in an era of farm consolidation, which has lead to the eroding of farms in the country, and how the few let are unable to support themselves. One stat claims that there are more prisoners than farmers in the US! It’s a good doc, and the director-led Q&A afterwards generated some great discussion. It doesn’t cover many issues with farming (like environmental concerns), but even if you think you don’t care about this subject, it’s worth checking out.
The third day
Due to other commitments, I could only catch one show on Wednesday, so Thursday I hit the ground running.
The first short block I saw had three highlights:
Blue Evening, which won best short. It’s an inspirational story about a homeless drug addict with a fine arts degree, and it goes about the way you’d expect. It’s a touch cheesy in a couple moments, but there’s a reason this type of story keeps getting told, and it’s because it always lands.
Jamarcus Rose & Da Five Bullet Holes: I wish I had been able to stick around for a filmmaker Q&A, because watching this so recently after American Fiction, I really wanted to know what inspired this title. The “Da”, paired with the sudden spark of violence that ends this short paint a picture that doesn’t quite sit well with me. Inspired by true events, according to the interstitial, but it’s the framing of the events I object to, more than the events themselves.
Counterfeit: A social worker begs an abused woman to testify against the pimp whose thumb she is under. This has one of the sharpest cuts I’ve ever seen in a movie (“You want something to drink? How about a —” snap of a coke can opening in a new scene), and the back half is an incredibly tense five minutes, with constant cuts to the ticking clock. It’s a woman futilely begging, serving her role in the cog of the CPA machinery. As a short, this is fine, but it absolutely feels like the standout scene of a much longer, Oscary film. Leaving, I heard someone remark that this was too short and they had no idea what was going on. Respectively, skill issue. It was exactly as long as it needed to be, and it gave all the context required. Still, give me the outer frame. Not because I lack context, but because I want more of this!
as an aside, when I was first looking at the set of movies on offer at this festival, I saw a film called “Dead Dog”. Well, I don’t need to see that one! I said. My friend urged me to not judge a film by its title (or poster, or logline, or…). So when this short block opened with a car hitting a dog, I had the same thought as the woman two rows in front of me: Oh, this must be dead dog. Unlike her, I kept this thought in my head. (It was a different movie, so as funny as it would have been for me to have stumbled into the one film I wanted to avoid, it did not happen)
Bravado
Another excellent poster, though one that feels like it’s from a different movie. A few days after seeing it, I recalled the poster and said, “Dang, I was hoping to see Brava… oh, wait, I did see that one.”
It’s a fun movie! Perhaps a little heavy-handed in its portrayal of writing as an addiction, but the main character’s need for validation and methods of seeking it out feel real, and it’s fun to boot. It reminds me more than a little of Barry, but there’s more than enough uniqueness in here to keep things fresh and fun.
Short block 10
The Seventh Turn featured some of the best acting I saw at the festival, and my only complaint is that it wasn’t longer. Forbes plays a gaslighting, abusive fiancé, and he oozes charm and smarm in equal measure until the film’s climax forces him to ramp it up to angry yelling for the final few moments. He pulls it off well, but I’d have liked to see it simmer.
This movie is three things: one, a PSA about abusive relationships. Many festival films end with a title card at the end informing you that what you watched was secretly a metaphor for something else. Sometimes these are a source of humor. This was not one of those times.
Two, a horror short about a piece of Spanish folklore. This was the weakest of the three parts, and I wish it had either been cut entirely (my preference), or been more of a focus. With the runtime what it is (a matter of minutes), it feels like a distraction from the thesis. It’s trying to do too many things!
Three, a story about an abusive partner. This is the part that really, really works for me. See above: re simmering.
Bob Wanna Kill. To date, this is the worst film I’ve seen at the festival. I wish it remained that way. The premise (people who want to end a relationship must murder their partner. This is not a crime, but they can never enter a relationship again) makes no sense, and is explained on a title card. The ending is unclear, and the synopsis introduces elements that the film itself only hints at. Bah.
Prawn Bhuna: This short rules. If you can find it anywhere, do it. The writer mentioned that he wanted to experiment with how “evil” of an act a person can do while still being able to evoke empathy. It works. The movie is funny, tense, sad, and a little scary. It’s a little John Wick: what happens if you steal the wrong guy’s taxi? Highly recommended!
The Solution: If this had aired before Bob Wanna Kill, it would have been the worst film I’d seen yet. Alas, Bob holds his crown a little longer. Don’t worry, the next short block will give him a run for his money, over and over again. The Solution is a story of greed and insecurity, of ambition and a lack of communication. A professor’s golden student overtakes her ability, and a fight for credit leads to an act of violence in this needlessly stylized film.
I ended the day by seeing Landlord, the movie with one of the best posters of the festival. I knew from the logline (everyone knows vampires can’t enter your home uninvited, but what happens when a vampire owns your housing?) that this movie would either be incredible or terrible. It ruled!
We’re introduced to one of the coolest characters in modern cinema, and it’s a nonstop action movie that feels more like Terminator than Lost Boys. Light on exposition (and names!), heavy on characterization, a must-see for fans of vampire movies. Horror only by association, this movie aims more at social commentary than frights.
The Fourth Day
Short Block 1
Short block 1 drew me in with its promise of the festival’s singular noir film, Rain Was Not in the Forecast. Boy, that sucked. Beautifully shot in black and white, two noir stock tropes spend 5 minutes exchanging terrible weather puns in increasingly husky voices (“Are you full of hot air, or does my barometer sense the rising tide?”). The audience (mostly older white ladies) adored it, laughing at every line read. I couldn’t wait for it to end.
May I Put You On Hold feels like fanfiction for the Good Place. The less said about it, the better.
My Little Girl, a French film, and one of only a small handful non-English films I caught, absolutely rules. It’s about a single dad trying to support his daughter, and coming to terms that she is way more grown up than he has realized.
The Pic is the most charmingly wholesome movie about a dick pic I’ve ever seen, and based on the names of the cast, I suspect it’s based on a true story.
The rest of the films in this block range from middling (The Inspector, Harvard) to bad (Bag Ladies, Legend of Fry-Roti: Rise of the Dough (at least this one was extremely well choreographed and shot) to forgettable: the program says “Till Death Do Us Apart” was on the docket, but even reading the logline, I either completely blocked this movie from memory or it was actually omitted from the program)
News Without a Newsroom
News Without A Newsroom was my second documentary feature of the festival, this time about how our democracy will change (and has changed!) with the evaporation of the classic newsroom. This starts razor-focused, with the destruction of the Miami Herald’s newsroom, and quickly loses focus. It keeps zooming out to wider and wider implications, but loses a throughline by the end. Before its over, the movie will invoke AI, Blockchain (?), Virtual Reality (??), the Israel-Palestine conflict, and subject audiences to a barrage of famous people and images, very few with any context whatsoever. Great message, poorly polished.
Floaters
A coming-of-age camp comedy about a failing Jewish summer camp. I’m not the target audience for this one, and still had a blast with it. A couple of the jokes were easy, but it was a fun, low-stakes romp that goes about how you’d expect. The remarkable thing is that almost every single character is portrayed sympathetically, even when they’re being assholes or bullies.
Failed State
I ended the day by seeing Failed State. After a Q&A with the writer/director, I feel like my understanding of this film tripled, and I still don’t feel like I understand it. This is not only the worst film I saw at the festival, it might be the worst I’ve ever seen. I’d have walked out if I was alone. It begins with a frame story by two aliens (at least in spirit, if not in practice), who explain that the movie they have constructed is recreated and unredacted. We pivot into a hilarious scene of two writers frantically trying to pitch a half-baked movie idea, ending with the two white men struggling to explain the concept of “tokenization” to a black producer.
Over the next hour, their pitch will blur with reality in a story so convoluted, the aliens will reappear to reassure you that if you’re struggling to follow the plot, it’s because there isn’t one. They proceed to drop acid, an excuse to flex the crew’s color-grading skills, and the movie continues at pace. The best gag of the movie is an extended Mickey Mouse voice, though until the Q&A, I did not grasp the context of the scene in which it was used. The funniest part of the movie is an unintentional one where a title card reading “Yemen” shows over a park absolutely filled with Canadian Geese.
The point of the movie is to satirize our own government and the absurdity of the January 6th riot and coup attempt. It takes a long, winding path to get there, and it absolutely did not land for me. Failed State is pay what you want on OhKeyDoh.com.
The Final Day
The last short block I saw had was full of intense thrillers. The Other End of the Hallway looked and felt like it was filmed on a phone, with no budget to speak of. I suspect Percheron would have been slightly more comprehensible if I could understand more than half of the accents, but only just. The most impressive thing about The Moddey Dhoo was the filming location in an actual castle. The dog was too cute to be scary, for one. Plastic Surgery, a 10/10 short is the winner here, and one where I feared the PSA title would evoke laughter. It did not. Berta comes close as a second, which is just the rmmm revenge scenes from Girl With The Dragon Tattoo.
Pyre, about a woman interrogated for witchcraft, features some interesting acting that I still can’t decide the quality of. Paranoid was well-acted, but felt like a student script (maybe it was!)
Coming Home
I woke up in Chicago again, my 5th city in as many days, and made it to the airport 10 minutes before boarding began. Unable to find the Delta desk, I asked an agent who helpfully told me, “It moved, Bro. It’s in Terminal 5 now, it moved!”
A sign would have been nice.
I caught a train to terminal 5 and followed the line for TSA pr Pre Check. Unlike American, Delta actually put this on my boarding pass, so the guard let me in. Then the line opened up and I followed a sign labeled “All Passengers”. I’d learn later that this actually meant “General passengers”, that is those without TSA Pre Check.
But by the time I learned this, I was already at the X-Ray machine, where an agent asked me why I wasn’t in the Pre Check line. I told him I was going to miss my flight, as it had started boarding 5 minutes prior.
“What gate are you in?” he asked.
“M8”
“Take a right out of here.” He pointed in the opposite direction of a sign reading <—– ALL GATES LEFT. Sure enough, I took a right and was just outside of M6, a short jaunt to my gate, grabbing a wrap on the way. I arrived just before my group was called.
Not a single person at ORD knows what the word “all” means.
My flight was uneventful, though my train north was partially canceled, so I had to take a shuttle bus to where the line started. Full of hubris, I stood for this trip, which ended up being 20 minutes. By the end I was slightly nauseous. I transferred to my train, and arrived home an hour later.
Conclusion
Definitely see:
Consider seeing