It's no small measure of the last 12 months that half of the films featured on SE&L's 2007 list are without confirmed distribution as of this date. Sure, Manhattan mavericks Troma will eventually release two, but the other three stand out as attempts by completely independent filmmakers to get their efforts out into the money-engorged mainstream market. In past years, makers of such an obscure top ten had to pick from movies made decades earlier, only now getting a legitimate digital release. Today, the potential selections are so numerous that it's almost impossible to glean the valid from the vapid. Still, when you consider the untold number of direct to DVD films available, finding a group of praise worthy productions remains a daunting task.
So before the breakdown, some rules. We narrowed the choices down to anything released between 1 January and 31 December. The actual year of origin/production was not important - the movie simply had to have a digital version available in 2007. Similarly, we tried to champion as many unknown writers and directors as possible. While Lloyd Kaufman and crew probably don't count, everyone else here is practically a feature film newbie. Finally, we tried to tackle as many genres as possible. As part of this Decalogue, we have three clear comedies, one documentary, three horror films, a pair of avant-garde grindhousers, and a spaghetti western homage. They add up to one amazing set of movies, a collection of creativity the likes of which many of you have never seen.
So let's begin 2007's Top 10 Films You Never Heard of with the ridiculously randy entry at the bottom:
Proudly proclaiming its debt to Russ Meyer and the frisky exploitationers of the past, outsider auteur Jonathan Yudis has ALMOST made one of the best worst movies ever. Starring “adult film star” Mary Carey and a remarkable Darrell Sandeen in the mandatory Stuart Lancaster roll, what we get here is part horror film, part softccore smut fest and a whole lot of bare naked bosom. In fact, the film is flawless for its first 40 or so minutes. When our lead finally leaves the narrative, her replacements can’t keep things afloat. As long as you ignore this questionable quibble, you’re sure to have a good time.
Is a filmmaker tempting critical fate by taking on a cinematic archetype in a manner that shows like South Park and Robot Chicken do a heck of a lot better? Does a stop motion animated action adventure featuring caricatures of the genre's greatest hits lose some of its lampoon luster thanks to non-stop references to BMs and other bodily fluids? The answer, fortunately, is no – at least in the case of director Roy T. Wood's anarchic Armageddon send up. Overloaded with cartoon T&A, non-PC puppeteering and about every Hollywood cliché the apocalyptic thriller has to offer, this cornball cavalcade is a pure schlock sensation.
Documentaries don’t get any more compelling than this hilarious whodunit clash over a depressed dairy farm. While hanging clothes on the washing line, Janette Osborne heard a small pop. Suddenly, there was a sharp pain in her side. As she headed for her car, she thought she saw her son standing near the house, a rifle in his hand. Seconds later, two more shots were heard. Thus began Farmington, Maine's most notorious case of attempted murder with the estranged Josh and his latest live-in gal pal Donna charged with the crime. Filmmaker Michael Chandler was lucky enough to hit on the case and, Brother's Keeper style, he delivers one of the most compelling works of stereotypical 'stranger than…' ever.
For those who wonder why they don’t make horror movies like they used to anymore, Eric Stanze's Deadwood Park is the answer. In this hurry up and hurt someone status of scary movies where buckets of blood and a volley of body parts help measure a macabre’s supposed success, this creative classicist goes way back and old school, creating a visually stunning and emotionally powerful piece of cinema in the process. As a director, this St. Louis based filmmaker has always stressed imagery. But here, within the context of this genuinely intriguing tale, Stanze really lets his lens do the talking.
Behind the Mask: The Rise of Leslie Vernon is one of the best, most original horror spoofs ever. Like a substantially sharper Scream, it wants to deconstruct the slice and dice genre staples while creating some terror benchmarks all its own. First time filmmaker Scott Glosserman should be proud of what he accomplishes here. The narrative is fresh, innovative, intelligent as Hell, and completely capable of delivering both scares and satire. Taking the slasher storyline as a literal lifestyle choice, and tossing in a solid murderer's mythology, he resurrects a long dormant fear factor and makes it sing with new cinematic significance.
What do you get when you cross 1984, Logan’s Run, and a failed film production viewed from the director’s slightly arrogant perspective? The latest Damon Packard masterwork, that’s what. Using the War on Terror, the failed information skewering of the Fox Network, and the rising media influence of the Internet as a foundation for a narrative about the mindless pursuit of purpose, this amazing feature is even less optimistic than his Reflections of Evil. It argues that Big Brother has long since stopped being a threat and is now an embraceable reality, much more a part of our everyday life than concepts of personal freedom, love, and respect for human life.
Imagine if David Lynch and Rob Zombie had a baby, and they let John Waters, Jack Hill, and Edith Massey act as guardians ad litem. The results would begin to resemble something similar to the wonderfully weird brain damaged b-movie The Blood Shed. The conceptual offspring of couture auteur Alan Rowe Kelly, this tasty take on the entire Texas Chainmail Massacre strikes an intriguing balance between scares, stupidity, and satire. It takes all the archetypal elements of a Deliverance level hillbilly hoedown, macerates it in a cinematic concoction of kitsch, creeps, and dollar store perfume, and paints a perverted patina over every last piece of lunatic fringe. The results are resplendent.
Sadly, the Troma trademark has been turned into a tag for all that is dumb, dopey, schlocky, and stupid. Frankly, nothing could be further from the truth, perfect proof arriving in Poultrygeist. Unlike their camcorder imitators, this is a real celluloid find, a middle finger kiss off to the entire service industry. Using a combination of tried and true gruesomeness, a buttload (literally) of toilet humor, a collection of clever songs, and an acerbic insight into the raging corporate machine, he makes a sensational silk purse out of a skidmarked sow’s rear. Toss in some lesbian T&A and you’ve got an exercise in excess that’s a true crude classic.
At first, it looks like Special Needs is going to be the same old sloppy reality show spoofing. Isaak James - who wrote, directed, and stars - appears overly eager to roll out a combination of actual and 'artificial' human oddities and get us to laugh at what makes us nervous and uncomfortable. It will all be in bad taste and very obvious. But believe it or not, this isn't where the filmmaker and his clever cast decide to go. Instead, we are introduced to an engaging and intricate world of high maintenance histrionics, battling bravado, and just enough sideshow shock value to transcend the potentially tacky. What should be shallow becomes sensational.
Like El Topo on even more peyote, or a spaghetti western as directed by Kenneth Anger channeling Federico Fellini, The Legend of God's Gun is an absolute masterpiece of style over surreal and slightly stereotyped substance. A homemade horse opera, shot of video and put through a millions different digital and post-production elements to create a cacophony of illustrative explosions, the effect is a mindf*ck as episode of the hallucinogenic death metal version of Sugarfoot. With as much in common with the works of Jodoworski and Leone as those of Dennis Hooper (especially The Last Movie) and Sam Raimi (the quirky The Quick and the Dead), what we wind up with is something so invigorating, so jam--packed with implausible pleasures that we really don't mind the inconsistent acting or lack of linear storytelling.
Sure, some could argue that this is all arch artifice subbing for art, people role playing the Fistful films for the sake of some specious post-modern homage. But because of the loving care director Mike Bruce takes with the overall look of the action, and the numerous knowing beats provided by screenwriter Kirkpatrick Thomas, we get something more than just a glorified geekville serenade. Instead, this is inventive eye candy poised as categorical creativity, a fascinating cinematic case study given a whole new technological shimmer thanks to the 'anything goes' availability of amazing aesthetic tools.