The “gutsiest” film of this or any other year—literally so, as it was shot solely within the director’s own body during a 20-hour capsule endoscopy. With a title that pays homage to American avant-garde supremo Stan Brakhage and using a letterbox-style wide format of image, the ever-inventive Maicher (in his fifth consecutive ÖW contender) plunges us into weirdly colorful intestinal spaces, enhanced by Manfred Plessl’s enveloping sound design and score.
The “gutsiest” film of this or any other year—literally so, as it was shot solely within the director’s own body during a 20-hour capsule endoscopy. With a title that pays homage to American avant-garde supremo Stan Brakhage and using a letterbox-style wide format of image, the ever-inventive Maicher (in his fifth consecutive ÖW contender) plunges us into weirdly colorful intestinal spaces, enhanced by Manfred Plessl’s enveloping sound design and score.
Against a plain, unchanging blue screen, a densely interwoven soundtrack of voices, sound effects and music attempt to convey a portrait of Derek Jarman's experiences with AIDS, both literally and allegorically, together with an exploration of the meanings associated with the colour blue.
Lyrical and powerfully personal essay film that reflects on the deaths of her husband Lou Reed, her mother, her beloved dog, and such diverse subjects as family memories, surveillance, and Buddhist teachings.
Low-budget independent filmmaker Nick Reve tries to keep everything together as his production is plagued with an insecure actress, a megalomaniac star, a pretentious beret-wearing director of photography, and lousy catering.
A visual montage portrait of our contemporary world dominated by globalized technology and violence.
A thirsty teenager's home video leads to a series of horrifying revelations, harkening back to the final punk rock analog days of VHS, while taking one giant leap forward into the hellish new millennium.
Those who knew iconic funnyman John Candy best share his story, in their own words, through never-before-seen archival footage, imagery, and interviews.
Takes us to locations all around the US and shows us the heavy toll that modern technology is having on humans and the earth. The visual tone poem contains neither dialogue nor a vocalized narration: its tone is set by the juxtaposition of images and the exceptional music by Philip Glass.
When a depressed woman is burglarized, she finds a new sense of purpose by tracking down the thieves alongside her obnoxious neighbor. But they soon find themselves dangerously out of their depth against a pack of degenerate criminals.
Inside a darkened house looms a column of TVs littered with VHS tapes, a pagan shrine to forgotten analog gods. The screens crackle and pop endlessly with monochrome vistas of static white noise permeating the brain and fogging concentration. But you must fight the urge to relax: this is no mere movie night. Those obsolete spools contain more than just magnetic tape. They are imprinted with the very soul of evil.
A woman wakes up injured in a basement surrounded by corpses. To survive, she pretends to be dead while a grotesque ritual unfolds in the house above.