An article on The Onion's website that had gone previously overlooked hit way too close for a Porland project manager today. "Now I'm really remembering why I don't want to work for a big corporate agency in this town. Ever, ever again," said Celeste Ramsay after reading the article. "I'm really glad my friend Nelson re-blogged it. Just thinking about what this guy was going through made me want to totally remove PowerPoint from all my computers."
Spent a good chunk of the weekend at the annual H. P. Lovecraft Film Festival. Having the festival here every year is one of the many things that make Portland great. This year was no exception, even though we didn't get to see all of the fims.
First up was Stuart Gordon's latest adaptation of Dreams in the Witch House, which he made for Showtime's Masters of Horror series. It was a world premiere, which is always cool. And Gordon was there to talk a bit about it afterwards. He's a regular, so that was no surprise. It wasn't as glossy and high-budget as his recent features, but still a very faithful adaptation in his own inimitable style.
The shorts blocks are always a treat, and something that you'll never see anywhere else. The shorts range from the television programs, to student films, to "two guys in the basement with a video camera." Some are always better than others, and this year was no exception. Antiques Roadshow: Arkham, MA, one of the "two guys in the basement with a video camera" films, could have gone a little further, but it was as funny as the title implies. Ryleh was a pleasant, subdued piece of computer animation. The Gibbering Horror of Howard Gormley played a fair homage to the early films of David Lynch, and was even a little disturbing. Late Bloomer is hard to describe in anything but premise summary: 12-year-old boy re-imagines his sex ed class in heavy Lovecraftian tones. One film (to remain nameless) was truly awful, and I think should have been left out of the festival, but I think some of people involved were sponsors, so it got in. And it gave me one more reason to despise L.A. goths.
But the biggest treat was Call of Cthulhu, probably the most painfully accurate adaptation of that story to date. It was filmed in the German Expressionist style, contemporary to when it was written, with almost impeccable production design (Aaron got hung up on some shots with flourescent lights, but I managed to overlook them). Everything about this 45-minute film was what I've always hoped to find in a Lovecraft film: sincere, imaginitive, well written, and well acted. All points where most Lovecraft films fail dismally.
Until next year, maybe we'll get Jeffrey Combs again...