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DOWN TERRACE Review, Fantastic Fest 2009

Karina Longworth
By Karina Longworth posted 1 month ago
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If you can imagine Mike Leigh directing an In the Loop-esque deadpan comedy embedded within a British version of The Sopranos, in which Tony is an embittered ex-hippie in passive-aggressive conflict with his pot-dulled but surprisingly ruthless adult son, then you might be able to wrap your head around Down Terrace, which won the juried Best Picture and Best Screenplay prizes in the Next Wave competition at Fantastic Fest on Monday.

At the start of the film, 30-something Karl (Robin Hill, who also co-wrote with director Ben Weatley) and his father Bill (Robert Hill) get out of jail and set to work finding out who ratted them out to the police so they can seek revenge. That logline implies that Down Terrace is a lot more action-packed than it is; in fact, most of the film features father and son sitting around the house, drinking and smoking, idly bickering, jamming on their guitars, and waiting for the two or three associates who they suspect may have had something to do with it to drop in for a drink. If these guys were ever truly on-the-ball criminals (Bill makes it hard to give them the benefit of the doubt when he starts name dropping Timothy Leary), lethargy has set in. Karl seems particularly resentful of his role in the family business. A typical lament: “I was thinking I should avenge his death but — is this bad? — I just don’t want to.”

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Uwe Boll and Tim League Fix The Falling Sky With Physical Violence

Karina Longworth
By Karina Longworth posted 1 month ago
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Photo via Devin Faraci’s TwitPic

The formula for a productive, engaging debate on the state of indie film? Take a festival founder and a controversial filmmaker, throw them in a boxing ring, and add a hundred or so hecklers and a lot of cheap booze. Also, a stars and stripes unitard wouldn’t hurt. And, voila — the circular indie film apocalypse conversation finally gets interesting.

On Monday evening, Fantastic Fest commandeered the South Austin Gym (conveniently located in the same mini-mall as the festival’s two key venues, the Alamo Drafthouse South Lamar and the new Highball, a former Salvation Army store converted into a bar/bowling alley/event venue by Alamo mastermind Tim League) to throw a throwdown featuring battles of both “body and spirit” between various friends of the festival. The basic format seemed to change with every bout, but the basic concept was simple: the opponents would first take the stage to debate a given topic ostensibly of interest to the Fantastic masses, and a winner for the brains portion of the battle would be declared via audience applause. Then, each debater would step out from behind their podium, install a mouth guard, and box two rounds so that a champion could be declared based on brawn (or, more likely, luck). The first three rounds, featuring an assortment of online critics and Austin favorites were well received, but the main event was worth waiting for: League, the co-founder and guiding spirit of Fantastic Fest, vs much-maligned filmmaker and experienced boxer Uwe Boll. The debate topic: Independent film is dying and/or dead.

The imbalance of the physical match between slight-of-stature League and trained killing machine Boll was its key selling point. The hypeman/ref ran down Boll’s list of qualifications: “He’s rumored to have a PhD in everything! It’s rumored that he’s the reason Germany reunited! He’s rumored to be making Miss Pacman this fall! He’s also trained as a fighter, which is more than I can say for his opponent!” The fight, it was said, “will later be known as The Timothy League Memorial Debate.”

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