The Beasts (As Bestas)

Rodrigo Sorogoyen’s immersive slow-burn drama excels.

Synopsis: A middle-aged French couple moves to a local village, seeking closeness with nature where their presence inflames two locals to the point of outright hostility and shocking violence.

With a runtime of over two hours, it would be easy for The Beasts to lose momentum, but the pauses in the conflict offer much-needed respite for the viewer, who becomes trapped in the escalating tensions between the characters. Sorogoyen’s tendency to overextend scenes perfectly primes the audience for violence but holds back on the release it would provide. The strength of The Beasts is in denying the moments that would bring some kind of resolution, never allowing that intensity to fully dissipate.

When Antoine (Denis Ménochet) and Olga (Marina Foïs) Denis move to a small village, their aim is for a quieter life, growing and selling vegetables at the market. However, their relocation attracts negative attention from two local men who are determined to unseat their new, peaceful life.

The encounters between Antoine and his aggressors Xan (Luis Zahera) and Lorenzo (Diego Anido) build so gradually and so skillfully that the full effect almost doesn’t register. A heart-in-mouth encounter in a car feels like the first time that threat is almost fully realised, an escalation in behaviour on both sides and perhaps most importantly, Olga’s realisation of how bad their situation is.

Slow crawls through the landscape highlight the rustic nature of their surroundings, contrasting with some of the Denis’ ideas and political aims. The open space becomes just as oppressive as the more enclosed spaces that place the men in close proximity to one another. Even though the final third of the film takes a different direction, the use of space is so clever and thoughtful, contributing to the stresses placed on the characters.

Of course, all the considered use of space and drawn out tension would not work without the cast meeting that intensity. Denis Ménochet is excellent as Antoine, possessing an imposing physicality that, like the film itself, is restrained. Zahera and Anido’s performances deliver on the necessary aggression, while also capturing the more quiet bitterness behind it. Marina Foïs stands out as the film progresses, shifting as her awareness of the situation changes and leaves a lasting impression as the credits roll.

A considered film about male rage and competing interests with an incredible ability to switch tones while sustaining that carefully built tension.

4.5 out of 5 stars

4.5 out of 5 stars

The Beasts is available to watch on Curzon at Home.

With Love and a Major Organ

Dreamy imagery underpins a moving interrogation of messy human emotion over sanitised technological perfection.

Synopsis: In an alternate world where hearts are made of objects and suppressing emotions is self-care, a lonely woman rips out her own heart for the man she loves, only to discover that he has run away with it.

At first glance, With Love and a Major Organ may seem like a pretty major departure from the kinds of films I’d usually cover here and yes, while you wouldn’t double-bill it with the likes of Irreversible or Titane this is a film that knows when to use its otherworldly and horror-adjacent elements to full effect, confronting the difficulty of big emotions and repressing them. While this is based on a play it neatly finds its footing in cinema terms, utilising the internal and external worlds with a host of visual shifts.

Anna Maguire plays Anabel, a woman who finds the world around her overwhelming and oppressive. Co-workers and friends suppress their emotions while she feels everything vividly, keen to indulge in art, poetry and other emotional pursuits. After a particularly devastating turn of events, she does as she has seen others do and removes her heart, sending it to a man named George (Hamza Haq) with whom she tried to cultivate a connection.

That our reliance on technology stands to turn us all into disconnected robots, thoughtlessly reliant on ‘the algorithm’ to direct our attention is, by now, an overused trope that feeds directly into moral panics about the internet, apps and any other current communication. We trust technology with a lot of information about ourselves so that it delivers us more of what we want to see and makes our lives easier. With Love does much to tie love to tactile art and technology to mundane sterility, with those who have handed over full control to the app becoming more disconnected. It does, thankfully, have enough depth and other diversions that this focus shifts more to how people utilise that technology rather than the tech itself.

At the outset, this plays more like a romantic comedy, albeit one with a tragic edge. The first images of the film are a vivid recreation of Anabel’s mother’s description of her heart being like a ball of yarn, soon twisted and tangled up wherever she goes. That red yarn, immediately visually realised as tied around trees is the first indication that the film has more to offer than a conventional boy-meets-girl narrative. Anabel also witnesses a sobbing man rip out his own heart – a sight that sets the stage for her own emotional journey.

Comparisons to Paul King’s Bunny and the Bull came to mind in terms of the technical elements becoming characters in their own right, enhancing the central story. That hearts are replaced with meaningful objects positions the film in a weird space also, not quite a conventional drama, not quite sci-fi/horror but still within an elevated Some will find the initial twee tone and quirky elements a turn-off, but as the film grows in comfort those elements become integral. The attention to detail is excellent with even throwaway lines adding to the overall feel. The voice of a Satnav advising an upset man to ‘please walk away from the ocean’ is both a fun line as well as immersing you into the film’s world.

The cast is excellent, providing the anchor for the elevated world the characters are in. Anna Maguire often has to play against more static characters in the first section, producing a big performance in contrast. It is also a performance that frequently needs to drop into poetic interludes, bathed in neon light. Maguire meets every section of Anabel’s journey with alternating intensity as required. Hamza Haq as George, too, handles the shift in tone incredibly well with the pair having to navigate a strange kind of chemistry as the film progresses.

A curious film that excellently weaves its humour and soul-searching. What begins as a quirky take on love and emotions shifts into something genuinely moving with a wider exploration of how we deal with sometimes overwhelming feelings.

4 out of 5 stars

4 out of 5 stars

Sideworld: Damnation Village

The latest Sideworld documentary continues to offer ghostly tours from the comfort of your own home.

Synopsis: Director George Popov explores the dark and disturbing secrets behind three of England’s most haunted villages.

Pluckley in Kent, Prestbury in Cheltenham and Eyam in the Peak District make up the haunted locations in Rubicon Films’ latest journey into England’s spooky history.

The strength of the Sideworld series of documentaries is that they cover a lot of ground within a short space of time. Damnation Village follows that thread, with a film that veers from playful poltergeists to the crushingly relevant story regarding a village that bears the brunt of an infection. That mix of light and dark allows the viewer to settle at the outset, becoming more absorbed as the stories head in a more macabre direction.

Damnation Village views villages as contained spaces of collective grief, held in buildings, landscapes and the people that inhabit them. A reference to The Stone Tape furthers this connection of those spaces as storing traumatic events and repeating them. It is perhaps a shame that there is a focus on just English towns as the rest of the UK has much to offer in terms of strange stories (although this may well be the next step in the film’s journey).

A combination of the reliable voiceover from Popov and recreations of eyewitness accounts prevents the documentary from becoming static, as does a revolving series of scenes from the villages and more abstract illustrations. Where it does pause, however, is far more important, allowing the gravity of one story to fully weigh upon the viewer.

If you are familiar with this series of films, you’ll find another enjoyable documentary here and if you aren’t, the run time of just over an hour makes it the perfect introduction to them.

4 out of 5 stars

4 out of 5 stars

Sideworld: Damnation Village is now available to rent on Amazon Prime.

Glasgow Film Festival 2023: The Night of the 12th

A contemplative crime thriller grappling with gendered crime.

Synopsis: It is said that every investigator has a crime that haunts them, a case that hurts him more than the others, without him necessarily knowing why. For Yohan that case is the murder of Clara.

The key difference between a narrative crime thriller and the ever-popular true crime genre is that the thriller has the decision to provide answers or not. In the slippery world of true crime, the real story may not ever be brought to light leaving gaps. Of course, the crime thriller can also choose to leave unanswered questions but the expectation is usually toward a more closed narrative that offers a satisfying conclusion. The Night of the 12th both finds novelty and misfires in attempts to bridge both ways of handling crime on screen.

Yohan (Bastien Bouillon) is a newly appointed police chief, inheriting a majority-male force complete with ongoing divorces, deeply-held prejudices and a treatment of the work as a 9-5 rather than a dedication to solving cases. When a young woman is brutally murdered he is forced to confront the current state of the team and wider society.

Throughout, the film offers theories about the frequency and ferocity of violence against women. At different points, violent misogynistic rap lyrics, jealousy, domestic abuse and victim-blaming all have their time under the microscope. So too does the police force itself, seemingly more absorbed in their own macho posturing, financial issues and bureaucratic struggles than solving crimes. Trying to fit everything in does make each element slightly thin and furthermore, makes the presentation of Clara’s (Lula Cotton-Frapier) murder as a violent spectacle a jarring addition, at odds with the film’s rather more careful treatment of victims and considerations of violence against women.

On a technical level, there is a sombre, sober quality to filming after the initial moment of violence. That steadiness grounds the viewer with the characters, placing them into the investigation without the need for cutaways to distract. In this sense, the weight of the case can be felt. Only in Yohan’s cycling sessions do we get to embrace a degree of speed, with the rest of the film echoing the stops and starts of the police work. Despite the film’s early statistic, it still plays with that ebb and flow with each new suspect bringing a kind of hope for resolution. This is a testament to director Dominik Moll’s handling of the material, allowing the pace to fit the investigation. A recurring choral score does much to aid the tension, as do solid performances across the board.

Some of the issue within The Night of the 12th is that it runs the risk of preaching to the converted. Those familiar with the issues within the police system and violent men are unlikely to find any new insight here and those who would deny that systemic violence are unlikely to have their minds changed. Not for want of trying, however, and one of the film’s most memorable and moving moments lies with Clara’s friend Nanie (Pauline Serieys) stating that her friend was killed because she was a woman. The delivery and poignancy of that line is one of the film’s strengths.

The Night of the 12th is a technically proficient thriller that seeks to probe the current social and political situation through the lens of one woman’s tragic death. It finds the sadness and frustration, but doesn’t find anything particularly radical or new to say about it.

3 out of 5 stars

3 out of 5 stars

The Night of the 12th played as part of Glasgow Film Festival 2023.

Glasgow Film Festival 2023: Nightsiren

A harrowing, yet beautiful take on the patriarchy and internalised misogyny.

Synopsis: A young woman returns to her native mountain village, searching for answers about her troubled childhood, but as she tries to uncover the truth, ancient superstitions lead the villagers to accuse her of witchcraft and murder.

It is easy to take aim at the patriarchy and the men who sustain it, but perhaps more difficult to identify and probe the role that women can play in upholding the restrictive values it represents. This is what separates Nightsiren from other films exploring the idea of the ‘witch hunt’, whether in a period or modern setting. In the ‘lonely village’ of Nightsiren, men, women, young people and older people are all invested in maintaining the traditions that hold them in a state of often violent oppression.

After a jaw-dropping opening scene in which we meet Šarlota (Natalia Germani) as a child fleeing her abusive mother, there is a time jump to her returning to the village as an adult, drawn by a letter detailing an inheritance she needs to collect. Finding the village mostly unchanged, still steeped in the same rituals and constraints she tries to find solace with Mira (Eva Mores), a woman who also seems at odds with the village.

The gender politics around the upholding of those rituals are woven throughout, both within the village and the wider world. During an early scene, Mira attempts to hide Šarlota from a tradition in which water is thrown onto women, despite their requests to not partake. That custom, with an implicit relationship to ‘witch tests’ and ‘ducking’ takes on greater relevance as the villagers’ anger against the women. That women are seen to accept and in some cases even welcome that anger results in some of the film’s most uncomfortable scenes.

Arranged into multiple chapters and relying on flashbacks to fill in important details, the film is occasionally at risk of dawdling a little too much. However, what it lacks in pace it makes up for with near-celestial, shimmering scenes set in the forest and embedding meaning in the smallest moments throughout. A dance sequence, for example, serves as a moment of hope as the younger members of the village all appear to be on the same page. The moment is short-lived, showing just how tight the grip of their way of life is upon them as it signals a descent into further horror.

The photography furthers the link between the women and nature, with snakes and wolves operating as threats, protectors and everything in between. Despite the links to nature, the film allows space for the women to discuss their discomfort with the expectation of women to be maternal while also highlighting the distress and burden of pregnancy and miscarriage. Šarlota’s mother is an abusive figure and the other women in the village, too, despite it being against their best interests – this questions that biological essentialism and places it in a wider context of complicity in archaic, damaging systems. That the natural world in the film is presented as both freeing and stifling adds another level of intrigue than the conventional witchy reliance on nature narrative.

Nightsiren never wants viewers to be completely comfortable, frequently presenting challenging scenes and ideas. Despite that discomfort, the story within is a gripping one that feels bigger than the narrative mysteries it details.

4 out of 5 stars

4 out of 5 stars

Nightsiren played as part of the Glasgow Film Festival 2023.

Glasgow Film Festival 2023: Mister Organ

A documentary as laser-focused as its subject, drawing on themes of obsession and fear.

Synopsis: Journalist David Farrier (Tickled) is drawn into a game of cat and mouse with a mysterious individual. Delving deeper he unearths a trail of court cases, royal bloodlines and ruined lives, in this true story of psychological warfare.

David Farrier is no stranger to the weirder side of the world, whether in the notorious documentary Tickled or in various Dark Tourist adventures. As a result, you have to know that Mister Organ is about more than just a routine car clamping dispute. From a neighbourhood dispute about an antiques shop clamping cars a mysterious and sinister figure emerges – that of the titular Mister Organ. In Farrier’s own words, the nuances make this “exactly my kind of weird mess”.

The documentary is, ultimately, frustrating. Seemingly endless phone calls from Michael paint him as a tenacious, threatening, but primarily tedious figure – someone who has honed skills specifically to intimidate and bully. It is also frustrating if you are looking for answers as to how he arrived at this point. Farrier is clearly rattled by his behaviour and while this is understandable, it does feel like this somewhat stalls the investigative aspect of the documentary. Other talking heads appear, as well as Michael himself, but there is never a sense of insight into him. Part of this is down to a “hot and cold” filming process, in which Michael is sometimes on board and other times detached and evasive.

This does mean there is relatively little attention paid to the style of the documentary, playing out with very little stylistic flair. That isn’t strictly an issue for the subject matter but it can occasionally feel dry with nothing to divert the eye. At times, you are felt with the impression that this could serve better as a deep-dive podcast. One visual moment that does leave an impression, however, is of a housing area late in the film that does serve the film’s messaging as it almost shifts into a different space in an attempt to find some closure.

Outside of Organ’s repeated harassment campaigns and the human debris left in his wake, the documentary feels like it has a second layer that goes much deeper than just Michael. Using his situation as a lens for what planting a seed of fear can do and the documentary itself feeling like it taps the brakes, that sense of fear dominating the situation is palpable. Every dispute raised feels so small at the outset but as the story unfolds, the true impact of that relentless harassment becomes ever clearer. This is the real strength of the documentary and is worth the time it takes to arrive at that point.

A good documentary needs to capture the mood of its subject matter and in this sense, Mister Organ succeeds, building the trivial and almost humourous into something all-encompassing and genuinely unsettling.

3 out of 5 stars

3 out of 5 stars

Mister Organ will screen at the Glasgow Film Festival on March 7th and 8th. You can find out more about the screenings at the Glasgow Film Festival webpage.

Glasgow Film Festival 2023: The Artifice Girl

A rich sci-fi focused on the ethics of AI feels timely and relevant but also manages to centre an impactful, more individual narrative.

Synopsis: When an internet vigilante develops a revolutionary new computer program to combat online predators, its rapid advancement leads to serious questions of autonomy, oppression, and what it really means to be human.

Franklin Ritch introduces the characters in his film in the tensest situation imaginable, with Gareth (played by Ritch) being interrogated by Deena (Sinda Nichols) and Amos (David Girard) about images on his computer. As the pair continue to question him, he reveals a shocking truth about the alleged child abuse imagery: the girl is not real, but an AI construction that Gareth has built to trap predators. Cherry (Tatum Matthews) has assisted Gareth in gathering evidence against would-be abusers, but growing disillusionment with the police response has led to him furthering the design and working more independently. Already, there is a sense that Cherry’s development as being a surprise even to him, describing her evolution as “pushing a wheel down a hill”. That first act sets the scene for the ethical questions that frame the film as the second and third chapters use jumps in time to explore the fallout from those early decisions.

It would be easy to look at the film’s initial concept and write it off as a provocative thought experiment, but this is a far more sedate and thoughtful film than that suggests. Outside of establishing the situation, it isn’t interested in probing that vigilantism, but shifts focus to the escalating discomfort around the technology. Throughout, there is an emphasis on what humans bring to technology with discussions of consent and autonomy made all the more uncomfortable by the presence of Cherry and the way she is spoken of and to. This shifts it from potentially exploitative subject matter into a more explorative space, although, there are still references to child abuse that people may wish to avoid.

As each chapter mostly sees two or more characters confined to one room, it could easily lose a sense of cinematic spectacle. Ritch meets this challenge with a roaming camera and swift cuts, adding an energy, enforcing the tension and tapping into those heightened emotions. In quieter moments where the camera is allowed to rest on a character, it does so almost too closely, still adding that tension while also allowing the performer to take centre stage. All of this makes moments where the camera is allowed to step back and indulge in open space and more fluid, less tense movement all the more impactful.

The dialogue-heavy nature places a huge amount of pressure on the performers – again, a challenge they are able to meet. Tatum Matthews is extraordinary as Cherry, having to perform as an AI functioning as a real girl, peppering uncanny moments and movements within a performance that shifts considerably in each section. To hold her own against the ever-reliable Lance Henriksen is so impressive and their interactions lend the film a real power. David Girard’s quieter processing of the initial situation too, is memorable, his pause providing a reprieve from the otherwise wordy scenes. As a viewer, that pause with him allows you the space to pause too, collecting your own thoughts on the ethics under discussion.

This is far from an action-packed thriller – it is more insidious, more memorable than that. Clever writing neatly weaves references from the first act into the third without needing to signpost it. This is a film that makes you want to lean into the discussion, to consider your own position and that of human interaction with technology. However, the dedicated performances also allow you to become absorbed in the more personal story within that much meatier discussion.

The Artifice Girl is weighty, engrossing work, showcasing exactly what sci-fi has to offer in terms of thinking about the world around us.

4 out of 5 stars

4 out of 5 stars

The Artifice Girl will screen at Glasgow Film Festival 2023 on March 6th and 7th. You can find out more about the screenings at the Glasgow Film Festival webpage.

Final Girls Berlin Film Festival 2023: Midnight Shorts Block

Midnight movies are an absolute essential for a horror festival – those films that are best played to a slightly sleep-deprived and otherwise altered, but most importantly, enthusiastic audience.

Chicks

Polly (Nicole Marquez-Davis) is nervous, but excited, about attending her first sleepover. As she settles into the ultra-pink surroundings, sing-alongs and pillow fights it looks like her worries were unfounded, until dark motivations emerge from her fellow attendees. Honestly, I don’t think you can really predict where Chicks is headed at all but the film cleverly seeds visual references throughout, resulting in a cohesive feel. The bizarre tone never lets up and it is very cool to see something so unashamedly girly with that underlying darkness.

Meat Friend

Another of the Soho Horror Film Festival shorts I’d been lucky enough to see before, Meat Friend, as you can probably tell from the image above, is a difficult one to describe! Izzy Lee’s short is full of perfectly delivered one-liners from the titular Meat Friend. Just the perfect kind of film to watch with an audience to really appreciate every strange moment.

Big Weekend Plans

Tesha Kondrat takes a relatively simple concept about a woman deciding to end her life and takes it in a deadpan direction as her plans continue to go awry. At just over 5 minutes long the short is an ideal length to explore that idea, not needing to expand or fill the time, meaning every beat and scenario is pitched just right.

Maybe You Should Be Careful

Megan Robinson’s film features a break from the traditional narrative of a woman as a victim and swaps it so the male partner is preoccupied with a recent series of male disappearances in the area. Despite Alistair’s (Dan Beirne) concerns, June (Kelly McNamee) is keen to put a spark back into their dimming sex life, resulting in a series of misunderstandings. Both performers have excellent chemistry which makes this mainly dialogue-focused short work as they find themselves increasingly at odds. Those exchanges excellently weave doubt in the viewer, culminating in a great punchline.

Wild Bitch

Rebekka Johnson and Kate Nash take on triple duties in this hilarious short, writing, directing and performing. Johnson plays Barb – a woman who tightly wound TV news journalist Melanie (Nash) is sent to interview as part of a story about the impact of new development on the natural surroundings. Their interactions are great fun and paying attention to the background is so rewarding with a few excellently placed sight gags. Despite the laughs, there are also serious points to be made here in terms of the treatment of women and nature.

The Promotion

Rapid-fire dialogue underpins this witty, ever-escalating tale of two office workers desperate to secure a promotion. The barbs they throw at one another continue to grow in absurdity as they move around the cramped office space. At less than 5 minutes long, this is punchy and again, delivers a message along with sharp humour.

The Midnight shorts block screened as part of the Final Girls Berlin Film Festival 2023. Find out more about the festival at their webpage.

Final Girls Berlin Film Festival 2023: Young n Deadly Shorts Block

The horror genre is no stranger to sinister coming-of-age tales and this group of short films uses excellent performances from young performers to capture the fear that comes with growing up as well as the ability for younger people to be just as dangerous as their adult counterparts.

Amygdala

Anna (Eva Samioti) is having a birthday party and her younger sister Melina (Panayiota Yiagli) is desperate to be involved. This atmospheric short hinges on Yiagli’s stoic, forceful performance as she attempts to retain closeness to her sister at any cost. The shifts between that gentle, coming-of-age story shot in soft-focus around Anna’s relationship with Maria (Donna Petropoulou) to the darker elements are accomplished with great skill, never quite letting you relax for the duration.

Spell On You

The sudden appearance of a wart on Salomé’s nose signifies a break from innocence, heralded by her father’s extreme reaction and immediate exclusion from childhood games. As she struggles with the continued appearance of skin lesions, she begins to notice other strange things within the house that no one is talking about. Slow pushes on near-static scenes allow a kind of quiet to wash over the film, echoing the secrets playing out within the household. The sedate pacing and rich colours make this an easy short to be invested in.

Lalanna’s Song

There is a real stylistic flair to Lalanna’s Song, especially as it switches from the relative mundanity of the character’s experiences dealing with daily prejudice and sexism into something otherworldly. Shoby (Parvathy Thiruvothu) and Miriam (Rima Kallingal) are mothers, trying to balance their own lives with that of their children. The pair share a fluid chemistry and their dialogue is free and easy, realised in a way not always captured on film. Shooting the same event from different perspectives and snap edits switching up images all contribute to a constantly shifting and relatively slippery short that is never short of intrigue.

Hiama

Hiama follows Vani (Elsie Polosovai) in her experience at a prestigious private school. Her race and that her mother is a cleaner at the school mark her as an ‘other’ resulting in abusive behaviour from her peers. Using the familiar trope of menstruation as signalling a change in a young person’s life, this film has such a powerful energy. With a focus on Polosovai’s face and movement, the intensity just grows and grows into something truly powerful.

The Young n Deadly shorts block screened as part of the Final Girls Berlin Film Festival 2023. Find out more about the festival at their webpage.

Final Girls Berlin Film Festival 2023: Queer Horror Shorts Block

Final Girls Berlin has always dedicated a space to queer horror, platforming films that range between queer fears and a celebration of LGBT+ figures in front of and behind the camera. 2023’s edition was no different, with films exploring identity, fear and coming to terms with both.

Plastic Touch

Everything about this film is furthered by the complete commitment to the aesthetic. From the performance style and set dressing, the viewer is immersed in the world of two sex dolls who meet and imagine another life together. In embracing the stilted movements and exaggerated body parts this is instantly absorbing. It is to the film’s credit that it is able to be powerfully moving despite the stylistic restrictions placed upon it as the relationship is explored.

Apostasy

Identity and religion are competing within Tula -a young girl struggling to come to terms with her own sexuality and burgeoning feelings. Her internalised struggle comes to the fore through the inventive use of religious imagery that leaps off the screen. Maddison Dell’Aquila’s performance is excellent, able to balance both uncertainty and strength.

Ricochet

With a departure from more conventional narrative, Ricochet is a short (around 4-minute) exploration of a honeymoon gone wrong following the couple indulging in some acid-laced raspberries. This is a hazy montage of increasingly intense and sinister experiences that may alienate some, but there is no doubt that a real effort has gone into constructing the imagery that provides a hallucinogenic feel.

It Takes a Village

It Takes a Village also prioritises its visual style over anything more straightforward, constructing a candy-coated suburban village where something sinister is happening. Sound clashes and overwhelms, delivering on the uncanny nature of the situation while maintaining that clearly defined visual style.

Don’t Go Where I Can’t Find You

After an arresting opening sequence, Don’t Go Where I Can’t Find You envelopes the viewer in a highly sophisticated and tactile haunting. Centred on a composer who seeks to use music and sound to connect with her dead lover, this has a palpable mood, enforced by layered sounds as jarring chords leap over static hisses. The time afforded to the story and the treatment of the ghostly goings-on allows for greater impact.

Violet Butterfield: Makeup Artist for the Dead

It is no surprise that Violet Butterfield secured the Audience Award at the festival. This charming, campy short features the charismatic presence of Violet (Michelle Colón) who has a special connection with her clients. The mix of the macabre funeral home setting and Violet’s quirky manner and style perfectly marry, but above all the film’s overall message of acceptance is intensely meaningful and uplifting.

The Queer Horror shorts block screened as part of the Final Girls Berlin Film Festival 2023. Find out more about the festival at their webpage.