Dementer (2020) – Movie Review

By Andrew Buckner

Rating: ***** out of *****.

Dementer (2020), from writer-director Chad Crawford Kinkle, establishes an expertly crafted tone of sinister menace, most readily expressed in a perceptibly hand-drawn commencing credits segment, in its opening moments. This sense of uncomfortable, impending doom remains unbroken for every one of its eighty minutes. What also makes the masterful atmosphere that permeates the work so impressive is that it is infused with a similarly well-done air of mystery. This primarily stems from the motivations of the lead character, Katie (in a fantastic and compelling turn from Katie Groshong). It is a question that is playfully teased, with genuinely haunting bits of flashbacks which add to the enigma at hand, throughout the efficient and effective feature.

The plot revolves around Katie embarking on a job. It is one that has her taking care of individuals with special needs. She soon finds herself assisting a resident of her new occupation, Stephanie (Stephanie Kinkle). Yet, there are undertones of darkness to the kindness Katie shows Stephanie. As reoccurring memories of escaping a terrifying spectacle take hold of Katie, her increasingly unpredictable actions make this unspecified wickedness more palpable. What is worse is that they seem to be directing their control over Katie to put Stephanie in danger.

This engaging and superbly developed narrative leads to a conclusion that is as unnerving and unforgettable as the film constantly leads viewers to imagine it will be. It is a powerful punctuation point. Such is one that makes this ominous puzzle-box horror outing, filled with indelible and eye-popping imagery, evermore brilliant. This is especially when considering how sharply everything has been put together.

What I also admired was the documentary-like veneer of many of the scenes. This is especially noteworthy in the stretches where Katie is going about her daily life. For example, the instances early-on where she is being interviewed by her latest employer. This is also reflected just as noticeably when she is performing her duties in her current career. It blends beautifully with the surreal glimpses of intense fear which push us to the finale.

The screenplay from Kinkle is top-notch. Continually, his direction is slyly stylish. What is evermore worthy of appreciation is that this element is never so overdone that it takes away from the admirable foremost concentration on weaving the tale at hand. Moreover, the characters from Kinkle are sufficiently developed and organic. His dialogue is also incredibly authentic and natural sounding. These ingredients certainly help make Dementer an incredibly believable and immersive experience.

This convincing quality is also reflected in the casting. Larry Fessenden is terrific, as always, as the wicked Larry. Brandy Edmiston as Brandy and Stephanie Kinkle are also excellent in this regard. The visually and tonally appropriate cinematography from Jeff Wedding is equally astounding. The music from Sean Spillane is superb. Furthermore, the same said editing from Chad Crawford Kinkle heightens these remarkable values.

In turn, the most recent cinematic exercise from Chad Crawford Kinkle is dazzling, dark, disturbing, and confidently paced. It reminded me of The Blair Witch Project (1999). This is in the way it memorably designs an all-too real feeling of foreboding and increasing underlying suspense. The effort is a knockout. It is a wonderful accumulation of talent in front of and behind the camera. Dementer is destined to endure as one of the best pictures of the year.    

“A Distance from Avalon” (2021) By Mike Messier – Book Review

By Andrew Buckner

Rating: ***** out of *****.

A Distance from Avalon (2021), the debut novella from fellow filmmaker and critic Mike Messier, is a refreshingly subtle and philosophical take on the vampire saga. In a compact and complex ninety-seven pages, Messier weaves the tale of two educators, Joe Humble and a young music instructor by the name of Shadow. Pairing up to enjoy a late October Friday Night, the duo arrives at an ominous mansion entitled Avalon. From herein, the hosts seduce and separate the guests. Immediately afterward, the visitors willingly follow the mysterious figures to separate rooms. At a point near the central mark, the narrative crafts a superb balance of introspection and intrigue. It is one which lasts the remainder of the volume. This is as the leads and their partners for the night gradually unveil secret and sentimental elements of themselves.

What is immediately striking about the tome is that Messier’s screenwriting roots are much intact. For example, the whole book is composed of brief chapters. These sections range mainly from one to two pages. They are so vividly written, yet efficient, that they could easily be scenes in a film. Additionally, every scrap of dialogue reads like a line of poetry: Beautiful, thoughtful, and as economical as the segments in which they are unified.

Messier’s characters, all of whom are terrifically formed and whose monikers greatly enhance the figurative essence of the effort, are equally captivating. They are all distinct, yet intelligent and credible. The individuals who dominate A Distance from Avalon are also enigmatic and insightful. They are well-established components that constantly elucidate the classic, sophisticated atmosphere of the project in spellbinding fashion. Messier uses them to discourse on religion, love, time, mankind, art, and a myriad of related subjects. This is in a way that is intellectually stimulating without appearing unnatural. It is also executed via a method that does not take away from the propulsion of the smoothly paced narrative.

I admired the manner with which Messier frequently avoids the tropes often attributed to such tales of bloodthirsty creatures. What is utilized of these bits is enough to establish a knowledge of the lore of these nocturnal entities. Instead of relying on this heavily, as an easy act of recognition hinging on events the audience has perused in other such exercises, Messier uses this foundation to forge his own path. In turn, this helps build a far more surprising and satisfying story.

In the work, Messier showcases a deft command of tying together all the fine details he has dispersed throughout the enterprise. This is most notable in the finale. In this climactic bit, Messier brings all the cumulative mystery, symbolism, and restraint that he exhibited throughout the endeavor to a compelling and appropriate punctuation point. It is one of the various signs ceaselessly at play of his knack for spinning an exemplary account.

There are also many sly references to the cinema of Messier expertly woven into the volume. The most obvious of these is his phenomenal forty-minute short documentary on the creative process, “Disregard the Vampire” (2017). His brief, and equally good, Fantasy tale, “The Nature of the Flame” (2014), are just as cleverly addressed. These winks at the reader are incredible. This is especially when considering how they organically derive from the attempt. They also operate just as significantly as world-building in the collective universe of Messier’s artistic ventures.

Graced by eye-popping and gorgeous cover art from Nazar Germanov, A Distance from Avalon is an all-around brilliant publication; a literary four-course meal. It is driven by a fantastic plot. Such is one that is given depth and dimension by Messier’s cerebral and refined writing abilities. The piece is intimate, open, ambitious, smartly structured, and perfectly told. Messier has constructed a sensational world of nuance and underlying fear. Masterful in all arenas, the power of this dignified beast is impossible to ignore.

A Distance from Avalon can be purchased in Kindle eBook or paperback format here.

“Making and Unmaking” (2020) – Movie Review

By Andrew Buckner

Rating: ***** out of *****.

In the opening scene of Making and Unmaking, a fantastic and fascinating 62-minute documentary from directors Shaun Rose and Andrea Stangle, Rose speaks of the aspects of his equally captivating debut feature, the “meant to be semi-autobiographical” Upstate Story (2018). He also conveys how the endeavor would become “more truth than fiction”. Herein, he also speaks of his worries of the 60-minute Drama failing. Furthermore, he communicates how this would reflect his own alleged shortcomings.

The honesty with which Rose addresses these feelings and ideas immediately spoke to me as a fellow filmmaker who, admittedly, has my own share of self-doubt in relation to my own work. It is this nature of personal reflection and frankness that is perceivable within every frame of this brilliant and heartfelt project. This is also a glimpse into the myriad reasons why this is essential viewing for any creative-minded individual. It is because a great number of the shortcomings in the artistic process Rose addresses throughout the undertaking, especially early-on, are universal. They will undoubtedly hit home, perhaps uncomfortably at times, for many. Such occurrences help make Rose a relatable and engaging figure throughout the entirety of the endeavor.

Making and Unmaking concerns the triumphs and downfalls, both personally and artistically, Rose experienced while preparing Upstate Story. It also recalls the ups and downs in offering the picture to the film festival circuit. The exercise also goes into intriguing detail on an unfinished film called “Dog Day” (2012-2013), which was stated to be about the technological swing in society. We also get several equally intriguing glimpses into other shorts Rose crafted before Upstate Story. These behind-the-scenes bits, which come largely in the first half of Making and Unmaking, are wonderful. They are quietly touching in their intimacy.

Making and Unmaking benefits from its uniquely independent movie look and tone. This is reflected via the excellent and appropriate-for-the-endeavor cinematography from Rose and Stangle.  Moreover, the interviews and archive footage heighten the emotional intensity and compulsively watchable essence of the production. The script for the endeavor, credited to Bruce Rose Sr. as well as Shaun Rose and Stangle, is well-structured and penned. Continually, the direction from Rose and Stangle is equally deft.

Recorded in New York and made on a reported budget of a mere $500, Making and Unmaking is constantly admirable in the way it handles its complex entanglement of themes and sentiment. Additionally, it is efficient and nicely paced. The attempt evenly balances all that it offers audiences. In turn, the virtuoso effort is also a refreshing affirmation of encouragement. While portraying the numerous avenues of excitement and irritation a single fabrication of imagination can make an individual go through, it, ultimately, showcases the light of joy that radiates when the construction is given to the world and praised. In this respect, as well as all the other regards previously mentioned, Making and Unmaking is a masterpiece; a cinematic four-course meal. It is a must-see which every viewer can somehow grow from and utilize in their own lives.