frightfest friday 27

Sunday, 29 August 2010 02:41 Written by Tom Hewson

Having never been to a FrightFest before I was eager to find out what the mass appeal was to hoard out the socially elite. By no means am I being sardonic; I’m not saying there were more bandanas/pony tails than a female beef-cake convention and I’m also not saying that Leicester Square’s EMPIRE Cinema was encapsulated in a shell of a particular odour, but at times certain stereotyping – although severely offensive – can’t be helped. Especially if there are so many horror fans being cliché characters of their own misfortune...

Having already seen the original cut of the eagerly-anticipated remake of I Spit on Your Grave - shotgun raping, knob engulfing and all – I was certainly energized to indulge in some more gorno this weekend. Knowing that a few British low-budgets were also being premiered in the humungous 800 capacity cinema, I felt impeccably supportive - as we all should be – towards such home-grown talent, particularly since the demise of the UK Film Council.

F really does stand for FAIL

Whilst the festival kicked off last night (Thursday 26), I decided to pop my festival cherry at tonight’s World Premiere of F. In brief the film follows a teacher, who after having been head butted by a ‘hoody’ (pfft, fucking glue sniffing nobodies thinking it’s fine to intimidate us Daily Mail supporters ay? Take your finger guns and hatred for David Cameron and stick it where the police don’t search, probably somewhere in Runcorn) for failing him on an essay (what else?) The teacher turns to drink as he battles to save his flailing relationship with his wife and daughter, who he also so happens to teach. Giving his daughter detention in a bid to spend time with her, time restraints go awash and a whole night spent in school detention turns into a Revenge of the Hoodies...

Film for thought:

“Felt like it was shot as a commercial – every scene would be focus frenzy. The constant use of blur made for an uncomfortable watch. Certainly frustrating and at times rather nauseating.”

“Zero character development. 2-Dimensional portrayals led the 2-Dimensional action. There was no purpose for the characters apart from getting killed. Here’s the first to get killed, here’s the second, here’s the third. It comes across overly melodramatic.”

“Don’t use people from Hollyoaks! You instantly lose credibility”

“A one trick pony – there’s only so many times you can see a hoody free-run behind the yet-to-be-killed before it gets mundane.”

“Watch F for Frustration.”

The film happened. Admittedly your ‘first time’ isn’t always the best anyway; it’ll take a few times to really enjoy it. Anywho, like many of the films over the weekend there was a Q&A afterwards with Thee Director and most of the cast. The film had ended though, and we fancied leaving, quite desperately. Andrew stands up, turns to myself and Scott with a face like a deflated balloon and decides to lead the way out. “The entire film was just people walking backwards. Ergh." Andrew babbles whilst we collate our belongings, completely oblivious to one of the actors sitting in front of us. I'm not sure which one is more embarrassed out of the two...

As we were leaving the Director walked on stage to much weary applaud. He was rather painful. Like a Richard Curtis protégé, he went on to talk about F: “I’m just a boy, standing in front of an audience, asking them to like my film”. We left. Did I mention an actress who used to be in Hollyoaks was also in the film (the girl with the vacant face in the programme)? Well she signed autographs outside for fans, and again when I say fans, I mean men in Hatebreed tees and leather-bound autograph wallets. At one point I could have sworn a signature-hunter asked whether she was allergic to nuts. Hope she wasn’t because certain peanuts were being smuggled throughout the entire film. Okay, that’s a lie.

We left EMPIRE to discover a Christian preacher perched in front of a Last Airbender gigantic-poster talking about the consequences of sinning and going straight to Hell (he obviously did his homework). He argued, “How many times do you have to lie before you are called a liar and how many times to you have to murder before you are called a murderer?” Then he punched an onlooker in the face (he may not have) but who cares, I was there and you were not. If only he ventured into the actual cinema to see the real Jason Voorhees - but rather than killing people, he was making a killing by signing fanboy autographs.