Review: Motivational Growth

Text © Richard Gary / Indie Horror Films, 2015
Images from the Internet

Motivational Growth

Written and directed by Don Thacker
Parade Deck Films / Imagos Films
104 minutes, 2013 / 2014
www.mvdvisual.com

When we meet Ian Folivor (Adrian DiGiovanni) – whose last name could possibly signify “folly” or “fall over,” regarding a scene early on – he hasn’t been outside his apartment in 16 months. He has no job, has no ambition, and has no life, really. The three strongest things in his existence are the literal and existential mess he’s living in, the Commodore Cabinet TV that he has named Kent and he considers his best / only friend, and his deep and dark depression. We meet him as he blankly flips through the channels of this imaginary October 1991, and then Kent finally goes kablooey. Enough is enough.

After some machinations that I won’t detail, he finds that there is a huge mold growing in his bathroom that not only has teeth and a mouth, but talks to him. The Mold (the voice of indie horror icon Jeffrey Combs) sounds like Robert Stack and talks in Noir detective story metaphors that would make Mickey Spillane either smirk or wince.

When things start to – er – normalize with Ian and The Mold, The Mold tries to snap Ian out of his stupor, to shave and clean house, and to make a play for the hottie next door, Leah (Danielle Doetsch) who appears to be almost as nutty as Ian. Actually every character in the film has a bit of a screw loose, from the landlord’s enforcer who asks questions and then yells “Shut Up!” before Ian can respond, to a television repairman who licks the big screen of the TV. But something even weirder and possibly sinister is up.

The dark comedy in this story may not be for everyone, but it sure worked for me. I can see elements from so many other films, but the off-kilter tone and over-the-top characters (and sometimes purposeful hamming strongly reminded me of a 1989 classic that I believe may not have ever been released on DVD called Dr. Caligari. 

One of the ways Motivational steps on convention is to have Ian talk directly into the camera, not only to explain what is going on in his head, but for exposition as well. At the oddest times, he will stop an action, or just take a step back and face the audience, and talk about his life, both before and during the present moment. At first this is a bit surprising, but that passes quickly as the viewer gets into the rhythm of the action. I mean, there’s a talking fungus, so it’s not like there is any kind of suspension of disbelief needed, thankfully.

The most obvious comparison, story-wise, is probably going to be the MTV film from 1996, Joe’s Apartment, where a lonely guy is desperate for the girl next door and is aided and abetted by thousands of singing and dancing waterbugs (aka, American cockroaches; the small ones are German Cockroaches, FYI). But I say, unlike what’s going on in the music industry, the stories may have similar themes, but very different approaches. Here, the humour is less over-the-top (and musical), and more cynical and cinematically blasphemous, which gets a gold star in my book.

The Mold kind of reminds me of Audrey, the plant from Little Shop of Horrors (either 1986 or even the original 1960 one), as the puppet monster seems benign but it’s pretty obvious we just have to wait it out to find out the real purpose of its presence, but of course you know it isn’t everything it claims to be, and a whole bunch more of something else.

The whole pathetic guy adoring the girl next door and creature who may be for or against it are elements is also reflected in a film that came out about the same time as this one by director Dustin Mills called Night of the Tentacles (2013). But what this film reminds me of the most is a story from 1891 (you read that right) by Ambrose Bierce called “The Occurrence at Owl Creek Bridge,” one of the great and dark early Modern Era short fiction. I’m also sure some reviewer is also going to bring up Jacob’s Ladder (1990) and a few others with similar themes.

Despite all the references, there is quite a bit of exciting elements here, and I want to make sure to note that. Along with the breakdown of the wall between the main character and the viewer (yes, I know you can bring up The George Burns and Gracie Allen Show [1950]), the intermingling with Ian and the television programs, and occasionally turning the entire film into an 8-bit video game, it’s actually the combination of all of the above that, along with the acting talent and sharp writing, that make this a fun way to spend a weekend or evening.

While there is some gore, it hardly tops just how disgusting the living room is, never mind the bathroom. Then there is the multitude of green and syrupy vomiting from our less-than-intrepid Ian. DiGiovanni does a superb job producing different shades of Ian’s moods, from nearly catatonic to excited like a puppy, to shock and disgust, and anger. His conversations with The Mold are exceptionally funny and full of clues. For example, The Mold will only call Ian “Jack,” but insists on being called The Mold (and always refers to itself in third person). The shows the power dynamic between the two. However, it’s Jeffrey Comb’s reading of The Mold’s script that keeps the film on the edge of possible rewinds with “What did he just say?!” Actually nearly all the characters give verbal hints throughout, and rewatching makes an “Oh, there it is again” head nod for clues you may have missed the first time around. As the object of desire, Doetsch easily holds her own, with Leah just being quirky enough to be adorable, but not creepy. And they are merely the tip of an extremely large cast for an indie, all of whom manage to make their characters unique.

There is, of course, a whole metaphysical element that I could go into with analysis, but won’t because it would contain too many spoilers, but let’s just say that I figured out what was going on pretty early on, but it did not matter. I still sat through this joyride twice, and enjoyed it both time. Why? Because The Gary knows, indie fan, The Gary knows.

The extras are two trailers, a photo gallery, English subtitles (thank you ) and an excellent commentary track with the director, DiGiovanni, and Combs, who tends to talk over the other two.