But, a little credit where a little credit is due. There are a few stirring apocalyptic visions, like seeing an “S.O.S.” banner draped over the Notre Dame cathedral, if only to tease viewers of a more interesting movie happening during the apocalypse. And while I spent much of the movie disagreeing with what Roby thinks constitutes authentic drama, or annoyed by the many times he tries to build tension out of making his actors hold their breath, the movie does have a twist at the very end that I can't believe I didn't see coming.
The peak of last night’s Fantasia festivities was a celebration of Joe Dante, a giant in the world of horror directing, especially in the genre space he has carved for himself over the decades. He was here for two big reasons: to accept a Lifetime Achievement Award, which also came up with a standing ovation from the Fantasia crowd. But this was also an opportunity to have the world premiere of “Nightmare Cinema,” a horror anthology that Dante participated in along with directors Alejandro Brugues, Ryuhei Kitamura, David Slade and Mick Garris.
A collection of five shorts, "Nightmare Cinema" is based around five characters who are individually drawn to an empty movie theater, and then watch a film about their lives play on the screen in front of them. As for us, “Nightmare Cinema” asks a lot of its viewers: bring a whole lot of nostalgia, but bury those expectations, and bear with us during many slow passages. It doesn't have the scarring, revealing nature of a nightmare, so much as the inconsequential air of a daydream.
“Nightmare Cinema” might boast one of the more reputable omnibus rosters of late, with Dante being just one of the names who could make almost any project exciting. But the movie is no grandiose or even noteworthy testament to anyone’s talent, functioning like an assortment of one-note slow-burns that all overstay their welcome. It’s definitely the imagery you’d expect from some of these filmmakers, like how Borgues (“Juan of the Dead”) invents new over-the-top kills for a slasher movie, or how Kitamura (“Midnight Meat Train”) gives audiences a super gory climax that features an army of demon children, in what might be the best short of the batch. David Slade contributes a dour black & white short that gets some depth from a dedicated Elizabeth Reaser performance, as she plays a mother losing her sense of reality. Dante’s contribution, of which I thought was originally the one by Kitamura, toys with body horror in the unnatural world of plastic surgery.
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