Reroute 2010 Poster Art

It’s odd when life becomes a wheel, where you tread on ground already worn by your forging footsteps years before. Six years ago while working for a relatively young publication I reviewed this small film from then Edmonton based IDIOM Films entitled Reroute. I had been familiar with the company, having seen Lyrics To Dying, their first film as a company, a year before. As with Lyrics, Reroute stood out to me then as something quite unique among the other independent films I had been reviewing. There was a measure of care to each film, and moreover a far-reaching edict muted only by the lack of budget.

Writer, producer, director, everyman Kenneth Barr had fashioned a distinct, and for lack of a better term, lyrical style that he has continued to evolve to this day. Using the film noir, or urban crime genre, the company as a whole explored themes and characterizations a little more advanced than most independently marketed films of the time. Where other indies were content exploring Tarantinoisms and other such “hip” pyrotechnics, IDIOM was harkening back to pulp writings of Jim Thomson and the 70’s revenge film long before fashionable. The latter was never more apparent in their overtures as it was with Reroute, and after many long years of being discontinued, it’s good to see the film once again available to the public.

Reroute is a classic revenge plot akin to John Boorman’s Point Blank (1967) (itself an adaption of the novel The Hunter by Richard Stark). Both movie and novel hold much that is evident throughout Reroute, from its quiet moments of surreal reflection to the use of flashback as a necessary narrative device.  Reroute begins in a long, and at times baffling, flashback verses real time setup as antihero Teague (Shane Carr) retraces his steps back to the scene of an apartment building massacre. Though tricky, the sense of disorientation in these opening minutes is something unavoidable due to Barr setting the action in the same place with characters wearing the same costumes. Later in the film the flashbacks are woven more effortlessly into the narrative, yet these opening minutes of the film become an acid test of sorts. It’s engaging to be sure, but even Barr later remarked about the production gaff in a 2004 radio interview;

“It’s a sort of flaw-in-the-slaw that we didn’t see coming until it was already done. On paper some things work wonderfully, then you get them onto the screen and it doesn’t come out the way it should have. When you realize what you have and it’s not what you wanted, and you’re working on a budget the size of what we had, there are no reshoots and it’s make or break time. You do what you can and hope the audience gets it.”

Teague (Shane Carr) stands amid his carnage.

The rest of the film follows Teague as he tracks down villain mastermind Miguel (Johnny Bede) who set him up, killed his friend Kerwin (Alykhan Gulamani), and stolen away with his girl Minette (Kailin See). His journey takes him through the underbelly of the city, and through more than one life-and-death conflict that culminates in a ton of people dying. You never know the whole story, not even at the end is everything explained in full. Barr doles out just enough information throughout the film to answer some questions while posing new ones. It’s a brilliant ploy that leads to a satisfying twist ending and indelible climax. Barr explained on his website it was always part of his design for the film;

“We went through a very strict regiment from the start with what was shown. From the first draft of the screenplay to the final cut of the film we held firm that what the character of Teague remembers is what is shown to the audience, and also what Teague acknowledges consciously. There are things that he stuffs into the back of his mind that the audience never gets to see, and about 50% of it is revealed at the end. It was very much designed to be an almost organic stream-of-consciousness narrative.”

Teague (Shane Carr) confronts Miguel (Johnny Bede) as Minette (Kailin See) looks on.

The film has aged reasonably well. There are small things throughout the film that are definitely flawed, and show the budgetary constraints more now than upon its release. Yet the one thing that hasn’t lost its potency is Reroute’s story. Some of the best moments in the film aren’t the myriad of bodies that erupt in geysers of blood and gore but small quiet moments of reflection and interaction. These both set up and perpetuate Teague’s journey through an almost nightmarish urban landscape littered with criminals and people out to kill him. It gives weight and much needed reasoning behind the violence and carnage, of which there is plenty. Some ninety characters are killed off in the 106 minute running time, most of them erupting rivers of gushing blood as they die, Schwarzenegger would be proud. The violence though is never turned into a cartoon and Teague begins wearing each of his kills like an Atlas weight around his neck.

Director Kenneth Barr applies a head wound to actor Brian Copping.

What I loved about the film then is what I still admire. Barr created a story with weight, characters that breathe and a narrative that openly challenged its intended audience. It presents itself like the myriad of direct-to-DVD indie shoot-em-ups that litter the marketplace, but be assured it is not. As if pealing back the layers of an onion, Reroute finds its strength in repeated viewing. Everything in the film is of dual nature, from the characters to what they say. You will hear things differently the second time, pick up on the subtle nuances that Barr sprinkles with abandon like an assured literary mad scientist. Though at the time most of the cast were inexperienced they handle the material wonderfully, injecting the right amount of rage and pathos into their actions.

From L-R: Tara Pratt, Alykhan Gulamani, Shane Carr and Kailin See.

The image of the film still crackles vibrantly though originally shot in 480p. Its widescreen presentation in the release has obviously had some mastering to it as it is a vast improvement over the already crystal image of the original DVD-5 release. The sound is also impeccable, a feat Barr accomplished by redoing the entire soundtrack from the ground up through the latter part of 2003 and into 2004. The importance of sound is something I cannot overstate, it makes up so much of the visceral cinematic experience that without it films just fall flat. Here you can hear every pang of pain, eruption of rage and muted whisper. A needed element for a story so focused on evolving itself subtly amid a maelstrom of gunfire.

The film is not without its detractions, and though I agree Reroute should be widely available, I think Barr has missed an opportunity to do some much needed pruning. The music score in places has definitely not aged as well as the rest of the film, and unfortunately the moments scored by these tracks are marred by leaving them unaltered. Additionally there is definitely some cinematic fat that could be trimmed from a couple scenes, and normally Barr is the first to make these drastic and necessary cuts. It may just be Barr wants to release the original version of the film, which hasn’t been available since mid 2005, back onto the market before releasing a “director’s cut”. Who knows, but it may be something to consider if not already in the works.

Ultimately the film still stands as an accomplished work of revenge cinema. It was Grindhouse before that film thrust the sub-genre back to the forefront of the filmic lexicon. Today what works with the film far outweighs what hasn’t aged as well. Stripping the violent pyrotechnics away, the story and performances are still incredibly strong. The film was also the launching pad for a number of its actors who have since gone onto established careers in the industry both in front of, or behind, the camera. It is a cinematic time capsule that should be opened and viewed by the uninitiated. Though I have never been in the position to do this before, I will quote my original review from 2004 which holds as true today as it did then. “Reroute is special because it’s a film that shows what an independent film can be, thoughtful exploitation; and that dear readers is a rare thing indeed.”

-Vance Garrett

Reroute Official Site

Reroute now available on Amazon Video On Demand

It’s never an enjoyable thing to cut into a film, like natal surgery, it is heart wrenching for all involved. The Gangster does have a lot going for it. The cinematography is top notch as is the sound (the importance of which can never be understated) yet the story is very predictable and by the end credits I was struck with the odd feeling I had just watched a film based on a one note joke. The story centers on three friends, Baden (Justin Scriver), Michelle (Kyra Weisman) and Adam (Lukas Pallotta) who witness a “gangster car” leaving an abandoned house. The children are so enticed by the concept that the house may be a dumping site for dead bodies that they break in to have a look around.

Baden (Justin Scriver), Michelle (Kyra Weisman) and Adam (Lukas Pallotta) watch the Gangster at work.

Whereas the concept of childhood projection can be used in wonderful cinematic ways, here it is only hinted at and ultimately discarded for convention. The three child leads handle themselves competently, though at times the pace of their dialogue as well as their performances are stilted and disjointed. Still there is a clever exchange in the opening when Baden and Michelle discuss the presence of the gangster Caddy as being proof of dead bodies. It’s wonderful child logic and the exchange is witty, well paced and hits a high note with Baden exclaiming “Dead bodies. That’s what those cars are for. You pretty much got to kill someone before they’ll sell you one.” When Wilson allows himself to explore these element of child perception, the film shines. The short-lived moments inside the house, when Michelle goes in through a broken window to open the door for the others, are brilliant and expertly handled. They showcase Wilson’s undeniable filmmaking ability which makes his ultimate discarding of them so disappointing. His use of sound, muffled dialogue, lighting, set design and camera are so top notch here it feels like another film entirely. If these elements had been carried further, or explored in more detail, the culmination of the story would have been more satisfying. Yet Wilson tips his hand just a little too soon and gives the punch line of the story away before reveling it on screen.

Michelle (Kyra Weisman) hides from Gangsters inside the house.

Wilson definitely has some talent behind the camera, and there is no denying he’s a brave soul. Making a film centered on children is something certain filmmakers will never even attempt. For the most part he nails the logic and heart of a child, and his moments inside the house exploring perception verses reality is a stroke of genius. Yet he also makes the misstep of falling to convention and ultimately pandering to his perceived youth audience. There are ingredients in The Gangster that could make for a truly amazing film, and Wilson most definitely has the chops to do it. Evolving the concept and carrying it through, or even allowing the film to go over the top as in Jacob Two-Two Meets The Hooded Fang (1978), would add immeasurably. Ultimately Wilson has offered us a competent first film rife with potential and possibilities.

The goal of any reviewer is never to stifle creativity like Wilson’s, but to say “Don’t hold back or second guess yourself.” The moments with Michelle inside the house alone harkens to a unique and burgeoning filmmaking talent if allowed to roam free. The Gangster has its flaws as does most first films, but it also has its moments of sly brilliance. Given time and focusing on what really works Wilson will most certainly come into his own. For now though The Gangster stands as an admirable first step.

-Vance Garrett.

The Gangster (Gary Fisher) arrives in his Caddy.

Visit the official site: The Gangster on IMDb

Bolivar (Paul Hubbard) calms Sam (Torrance Coombs) down.

In a market oversaturated with films about vampires and their ilk, Zimmermann wisely eschews convention by centering his narrative on the oft neglected character of the vampire’s familiar. These important, but relegated-to-the-background characters tend to the vampires during the day and protect them while they sleep; and on the whole that is about as much as you get to know about them. Though there have been a few films that have slightly evolved the familiar, truth is movie fans of my age still think of a hunched over Dwight Frye or a ravenous Tom Waits, (both portraying the epochal Renfield from Bram Stoker’s Dracula, Frye in 1931 and Waits in Coppola’s 1992 film of the same name). In the folklore of the vampire, the character of the familiar is rife with possibilities, something the filmmaker obviously understood.

Sam (Torrance Coombs) reflects on his choice in careers.

Zimmermann effectively weaves together his intent in the first few minutes by utilizing the internal monologue of our lead, Sam Matheson (Torrance Coombs), to set up both the story and the gallows humor.  He is the quintessential modern youth, a desperate and directionless dreamer trapped by the confining walls of his life. At the beginning of the film Sam is a disheartened shell that dryly reflects on turning the discarded human bodies of his master into compost with the same inflection of an accountant filing their ten thousandth tax form. When Sam is presented in his pre-familiar days we are shown how, with the promise of immortality and power, he has ironically traded one stifling unfulfilling life for another. The casting of Coombs is key to the empathy and connection of the audience to the piece, as is the casting of Paul Hubbard as the vampire Simon Bolivar. Hubbard cuts the same imposing figure as Christopher Lee’s vampire incarnations, but Zimmermann then deftly deconstructs the man and the mythos into an all too flawed and common day farce akin to Dracula written by Monty Python. Hubbard and Zimmermann seem to have been birds of a feather and the vampire Bolivar never once swings too wide becoming an exaggerated lampoon. The role is a clever tight-rope act that delivers just the right amount of danger, contrast and dark humor to the entire piece.

Sam's (Torrance Coombs) disposal work.

There are a few missteps, as is with most first-time filmmakers, but these are far and few between. Most skew towards the aforementioned Hammer kitsch than playing as mistakes, and most viewers won’t even notice unless looking for them. Cinematography, lighting and sound are all top notch, essential ingredients some filmmakers skim over in lieu of pyrotechnics and extreme effects. The team behind The Familiar doles out blood and computer effects with restraint for the majority of the running time, and instead wisely center their film on Sam and his very human plight.

With every beautifully composed frame Zimmermann shows his respect for the horror of his material, something filmmakers tend to forget when forging a “horror/comedy”. More oft we are presented a comedy with horror elements, it is the rare exception that defies the convention (Cemetery Man (1994) and Shaun of the Dead (2004) come to mind). Here everybody takes great care to craft well developed characters, a sense of dread and ultimate doom all with tongue firmly planted in cheek. These diverse elements have been woven together with such meticulous care it belies it and the filmmaker’s origins.

Sam (Torrance Coombs) meets Bolivar (Paul Hubbard) for the first time.

From beginning to end Zimmermann has crafted a well composed and thoughtful piece of truly entertaining cinema. It delivers on all the right beats, pays off in all the right moments, and its rhythm is perfected to a razor sharp note that rings in the viewers ears long after the film is done. The Familiar is a great horror comedy on its own merits, but as the first film from Zimmermann I would not be surprised at all that within the next few years his name is spoken in the same breath as Edger Wright (Shaun of the Dead) and genre mogul Joss Whedon (Buffy The Vampire Slayer, Firefly). Like Wright, Zimmermann intrinsically knows the language of film and is primed to create a modern classic; all the ingredients for his success are already there in his film The Familiar.

-Vance Garrett.

Visit the official site: The Familiar Movie

Offical movie poster

You can blame Rob Reiner. True the idea of mock documentaries (mockumentaries) had been around since the 60’s with the seminal A Hard Day’s Night but it wasn’t until 1984 and This Is Spinal Tap that the genre as we know it today was defined. That film lay the blueprint for the rhythm of the genre, the buildup and payoff of jokes and the dry, ironic humor associated with the story’s “reality”. Since then we have bore witness to some equally impressive films (Rusty Cundieff’s seminal Fear Of A Black Hat (1994), Man Bites Dog (1992), Bruce McDonald’s Hard Core Logo (1996)) and some that could be politely considered utter failures. It has ever-been the plight of the mockumentary to ride the oft treacherous and ever shifting high wire of social satire, and like the brilliance of the Marx Brothers, few of them last beyond their historical zeitgeist. It is the rare mockumentary, like those listed above, that transcend the time in which they were made, communicate something more human, and seemingly without effort become a nostalgic classic outlasting the society it was designed to satire. Kayfabe is at its heart, one of those rare films.

Steve Justice (Michael Roselli) and Beautiful Bruce in flashback still.

The film presents the last few dates in a struggling independent wrestling organization TCICWF (Tri-Cities International Championship Wrestling Federation) and the lives of the wrestlers within. Unlike the televised high-profile wrestling companies, the stars of these independent shows hold regular day jobs and play to crowds of 50 people. The first few minutes of the film smartly present this world at its height, backstage during a show. Through a conversation between the promoter Al Thomson (Travis Watters who also plays Marco Pain the promotion’s color commentator) and “Rocket” Randy Tyler (Pete Smith who was also shared writing, producing and directing duties on the film) they set up the lingo, the feel and the construct of this world. Within moments the audience is caught up in the flow, and though some of the dialogue is stilted it comes off more like people being filmed backstage for the first time out of character rather than anything else (though Travis Watters’ “Al Thomson” comes off larger than life, it’s actually an accurate depiction and instantly reminded me of legendary Canadian promoter Tony Condello from the first grumbling sentence of profanity). This opening sequence had me at odds the first time through, it is a little slow and feels slightly disjointed, but it never once lost me. By the time the opening credits began presenting the various matches the rhythm of the film had found its footing and right to the last frame never once lost pace. Each character is well drawn, as is the in-ring work (most of the performers are working independent wrestlers) and the humor is cleverly interlaced throughout the film creating some truly memorable moments. The entire cast handles their characters with grace, (most having no previous film credits to their name), and breathe a sense of life into these people’s desires to be larger than life. Pete Smith’s Rocket Randy Tyler and Travis Watters in either of his roles are the stand outs of the film. Smith imbues his Randy Tyler (his real-world wrestling alter-ego) with the sort of endearing self deprecation that made Michael Palin so damn lovable and handles the lead role with subtle ease. Watters plays his roles to the hilt, lampooning every opportunity he gets in similar fashion, still there is a singular moment in the film given to him alone that shines; it’s an impassioned speech about wrestlers laying down to do a job verses getting over and ultimately their ego. This moment in the film is so elegantly handled by the filmmakers that you hang on Watters’ every word because you know what is being said isn’t acting, it’s not a joke and it comes from the singular heart of the people making this picture. In short it’s extraordinary.

TCICWF crowd

It should be noted that at the time Kayfabe was released it was competing with Darren Aronofsky’s 2008 film The Wrestler starring Mickey Rourke. It’s unfortunate that so many comparisons have been drawn in the press between the two films just because they’re both set in the independent wrestling world, because in a lot of ways Kayfabe speaks to a more general audience than Aronofsky’s film. Where The Wrestler presented a solemn look at one man’s self-destructive journey Kayfabe is its antithesis in theme. It is a love letter to the life of the independent wrestler, but moreover it is an affirmation of the dreamer. On an entertainment level alone Kayfabe is vastly superior to The Wrestler and transcends the audience limitations of its subject matter.

Kayfabe advance poster art

When sitting down to write this review I thought long and hard about how it should be presented. Kayfabe isn’t just a mockumentary, it isn’t just a movie about wrestling, and it isn’t just a tongue-in-cheek comedy. Kayfabe is one of those special little films that reached and succeed at achieving so much more working its budgetary limitations mostly to its benefit throughout. It is an entertaining and uplifting film, with characters and tons of heart. It deftly illustrates the passion and lunacy of a business that lives and dies by the desire of its workers to perform each week for nothing more than the adulation of their friends. There is no fame here for them, just the satisfaction of delivering a great show. The film endears each character to the audience the way they would at a live wrestling show. The actors and filmmakers alike skillfully “work their gimmick” making Kayfabe a truly wonderful and memorable film. Not to mention one hell of a great show.

-Vance Garrett

Visit the official site: Kayfabe The Movie

The film’s writer-director Kenneth Barr wears his Asian cinema inspirations proudly throughout the film yet crafts them into something uniquely his own. This isn’t just indicated from the myriad of striking visuals, such as characters facing off against each other samurai sword to samurai sword backed by a yellow morning sky, it is all over the picture. The story of disenfranchised youth being co-opted and trained as assassins holds similarities to Ryuhei Kitamura’s 2003 film Azumi; that these “students” must battle each other across an urban backdrop until only one is left alive echoes themes in Kinji Fukasaku’s seminal Battle Royal; the characters are fully developed archetypes that at times mirror the contemporary Hong Kong film masters Johnnie To and the aforementioned John Woo. It is surprising amid all these apparent influences that Barr has still managed to craft something singularly his own. He opts away from flashy camera moves for a more grounded and by-in-turn more intense, handheld visual style (again echoing the seminal 70’s work of cinematic master Fukasaku). It is a tour de force of cinematic carnage that shocks even more when you learn it is intended as a pilot episode to a three year television series.

The Cast Of The Academy.

This is as pure an ensemble piece as I’ve seen since The Dirty Dozen (1967). Almost all the characters are given time to develop on the screen, which is amazing given there are more than twenty speaking roles. Those that are underdeveloped come off as tragic rather than clichés or two dimensional. It is a testament to Barr’s growing prowess as a writer and the breadth of talent in front of the camera. Each character is designed to attract a certain personality type, and because of the care given it will ensure a broader audience for the picture. Ryan K. Burke and Brittany Trogen were stand outs for me; their roles of Stoker and Rochelle respectively were delightfully textured. Burke as Stoker, the “villain” of the piece, delighted in evil glee from the first frame and was purely fun to watch. Burke fit so well into the skin of Stoker he never once came off cartoonish, though he well could have. Trogen’s turn as the near mute Rochelle was the most emotionally complex of the characters. Though she barely says a word in the entire film she is at the centre of some of the best gallows-humor moments and was my personal favorite character.

Why so serious? Fyfe (Neil Chase), Bishop (Amanda Bladon), Maxwell (Christian Garon) and Tomi (Sindy Lau) prepare themselves for war in The Academy.

Make no mistake, despite the complex characters, this is an action film. The myriad of action set pieces scattered through the film come fast and furious and belie the budgetary limitations. There are gunfights galore, sword battles at dawn, wrestling inspired beat downs, executions by cast iron frying pans and a 9 minute climax with so much chaos I sat with my jaw in my lap the entire time. To catalogue everything that happens in this film would do a disservice to the texture the film creates, it is a visceral cinematic experience that cannot be missed. Barr and his production team have packed so much into the running time that it’s hard to believe this was an independent film. The Academy plays like a thrown gauntlet, a “see what we can do with nothing” battle cry to Hollywood, and it would behoove that cinematic juggernaut to take notice. I cannot help but think if this is what Barr and his team can do with nothing just imagine what they could do with a studio backing them. I for one hope The Academy finds its intended home on television. If it does not Barr has still given us an amazing truly singular cinematic experience we can appreciate.

Rochelle (Brittany Trogen) opens fire during the 9 minute action climax.

A limited edition DVD release is now available on the company website and an online rental version through Amazon Video On Demand is scheduled for April 2010. For more information or to order a copy of the DVD you can visit the IDIOM Films site at  www.idiomfilms.ca.

- Vance Garrett

Visit the official site: IDIOM Films

Watch a the preview: The Academy Preview 01