Review: The Acid Sorcerer

Text © Richard Gary / Indie Horror Films, 2017

Images from the Internet

The Acid Sorcerer

Written, produced, directed and edited by Dakota Bailey

R.A. Productions

50 minutes, 2017

https://Dakotabaileydirectorfilmmaker.wordpress.com

www.facebook.com/dakotabaileyactordirector

www.facebook.com/The-Acid-Sorcerer-221727484901962

They say (whoever they are) that when you find something you’re good at, stick with it. With this being Dakota Bailey’s third feature, he’s doing just that. He has found a pretty unique (at this point) niche of reality that can scare the viewer, but not because of the supernatural but more because of a vision of life. If the past year has shown anything, Americans are capable of doing just about anything, even if it’s against their own self-interest. Bailey’s view is that to the extreme, at what most would probably consider the lower rungs of the social contract ladder.

Bailey has his formula, with title card introductions for characters or “stories” (all of which intermingle in a porous way) about drug dealers, prostitutes, hired killers, serial killers, and essentially the kind of people that fascinate when reading about on the paper or seeing on the big (or small) screen, but not necessarily someone whom you would want to share breathing space.

Mostly filmed in black and white, there is the occasional smattering of psychedelic color tones thrown in to represent alternative realities due to illicit substances. The atmosphere is stabbed by the soundtrack by metal band Ramesses. As this all unfolds, we are introduced to the characters one by one, and shudder.

Dakota Bailey as Smoke

There is no real past tense in this film, there is only whatever is happening in the moment, and the people act accordingly and usually impulsively. Also, there is no real need for character exposition to know that you cross the other side of the street when you see them. Bailey touches that instinctual, repulsed side of the average viewer: you don’t need to learn, just intuitively know.

There is also an unexpected, philosophical touch to the film, as it acknowledges its own inner darkness, as well as those as the characters. It’s a chilling and nihilistic view of a nearly claustrophobic group of people whose lives are revolving around the seven deadlies, and it’s hard to see past that, even when one character, a drug user named Crawdad (Darien Fawkes, who is also AD on the film), mentions a glimmer of hope at one point. Religion tries to open some light, but that door quickly slams shut.

The weird thing – and what makes Bailey a force on the rise – is that despite (or perhaps because of) the despicableness of those who infest the film, the viewer kinda wants to know what happens to them. For some of them, that feeling goes beyond the time length of the actual story. I promise, I won’t give away much.

While there isn’t any central character because the story is so episodic and scene driven, our introduction is with Smoke (played by Bailey). Not only is he a drug using… okay, I’m gonna stop there for a sec… let me suffice it to say that just about everyone in the story is a drug user. Okay, getting back, Smoke is a bit of a schizophrenic, or perhaps one via shooting up or through acid flashbacks. His “other” is the cloaked and appropriately named Leach, urging Smoke to be a serial killer, ridding anyone who is perceived in his way. Leach is the demon on his shoulder urging him on, without the aid of the angel on the other side. Of course, this is merely a reflection of his own drug-induced id taken shape… or is it something more sinister?

Nick Benning is Nikki

Other major characters include Crawdad and his pregnant meth-addicted girlfriend Vermina (Natasha Morgan), a cross-dressing sadistic snuff filmmaker Nikki (Nick Benning), a truly nasty drug dealer who likes to see his clients suffer named Eyevin (Brian Knapp), and an HIV-positive prostitute named Ecstasy (Selene Velveteen). Most are not going to fare very well in this lifestyle.

The film is literally littered with death, as we watch the characters interact with each other behind a wall of ego, masculinist posturing (in most cases), the urge of desire and need, and trying to figure out how to survive the present moment.

Part of what makes it all so compelling is that it feels like the dialog is ad libbed, as if it were actual people talking to (or at) each other. Mostly they’re lost in their own altered minds, awash in whatever substance is available, especially ego. Since most of the characters fumble through their lives in the realities that exist in their own heads, Bailey wisely has them verbalize their thoughts, to let us wussy straight-edgers know what is happening to them, such as (as this is not a direct quote), “Ha! Look at that guy! Can you believe it!?”

The film is visually dark, as are Bailey’s previous works, but thanks to it not being as grainy, it is a bit easier to see, especially since most of the action happens at night. Yeah, the acting is occasionally either stiff or over the top, but if you think about it, we all tend to do that; we’re just not used to seeing it on the screen.

This does for Denver, what Taxi Driver (1976) did for New York City: it focuses on the seedy, the dirty and the back alleys, where the denizens of the story would likely live, rather than the posh side of the city most people know from previous cinema. If you have walked down the central street in downtown Denver, with its book stores, its restaurants and watering holes and the sudden proliferation of weed shops, you would not recognize the city from these perspectives, both literally and figuratively.

There is a mention on IMDB about Bailey that states, “he does not think of himself as a director or an actor just a film fan who is making the kind of movies he wants to see and he never went to film school.” Yeah, you can tell. And I’m grateful for it because he has his own voice that I don’t see elsewhere, and would not want to see it “directed” through someone else’s vision of what cinema is supposed to be. The fact that none of the actors in this film are professionals but actually friends tells a lot. Sure, I’d like to see a larger female presence in this films (two out of eight here), but hopefully that will come over time.

If I could make any suggestions of help it would be twofold: first, to get some more practice in tone corrections to make the films a bit lighter and easier to see considering the many night scenes. The second would be in sound as sometimes the voices are a bit hard to hear over the ambient street noise. I fully acknowledge that it makes it more real (better than overdubbing the voices, that’s for certain), it’s just that a couple of times I had to back the film up to be able to make out what is being said. These are both minor bits, and it’s pretty obvious that on many levels, Bailey is a natural. And I’m not just saying that because I’m mentioned in the Thanks section at the end.

There is an interesting interview short on YouTube of some of the actors in the piece that’s also worth seeking out.

Review: American Scumbags

Text © Richard Gary / Indie Horror Films, 2017

Images from the Internet

American Scumbags

Written, produced, directed and edited by Dakota Bailey

R.A. Productions

70 minutes, 2016

https://Dakotabaileydirectorfilmmaker.wordpress.com  

www.facebook.com/dakotabaileyactordirector

www.facebook.com/American-Scumbags   

Director Dakota Bailey is lucky. And smart. He has found a genre niche that fits him well, and is sticking to it. His stories are fly-on-the-wall tales of pure human animal need vs. want vs. humanity that are incredibly down-to-the-ground gritty. I hope he gets used to the word, because gritty is probably a buzzword that will become ever more associated with his work. This is a compliment.

What makes his films “horror” is not some guy in a mask and machete that can’t be killed, or evil raised by people in cloaks, or something buried that returns; rather it’s the guy on the street you pass that is thinking about his next fix and will do anything to get it, or the person in the car next to you sharing the street light who is planning to pour acid on someone to avenge a perceived wrongdoing. It is meaner streets, where Joe Pesci’s character Johnny “Am I a clown?!” Devito would be considered a punk ass (and not in a Ramones kinda way).

Bailey deals with similar themes as his previous film, My Master Satan (reviewed by me HERE); in this one, we a given three stories in a city ironically named Sunnydale that are so interconnected they overlap to the point of melding into a narrative of anger, fear, and depravity – all for the benefit and enjoyment of the viewer. In this way we are introduced to the main characters: a convict who is a sadistic sociopath named Billy the Kid who needs to control the women in his life even if it means killing their pets (Darien Fawkes), the drug kingpin with the man-bun Chester (Fred Epstein), a crazed ex-con who is in a money-pickle named Lucifer who believes his own designation (Nick Benning), and Johnny (director Bailey), a hitman who kills for his drug needs. Others include a wheel-chair bound alcoholic Vietnam vet, an equally drunkard pedophile who likes little boys just out of the can, and… well, you get the idea.

After the title-carded character introduction, the first story set-up is “Billy the Kid”, and the others include “Raping the World with Guns and Drugs.” Through it all, even with the mostly ex-girlfriend (Katy Katzar) obsessed Billy, we see mostly men acting at their basest. This is a macho world we are presented. The only “carded” female character is naturally a bombastic and zaftig prostitute, Angel (Bianca Valentino). Whether she lives up to the “Scumbag” descriptor, I’ll leave you to find out.

Dakota Bailey as Johnny, on the phone

In a similar feel to the earlier flick, we meet these characters who all seem to know each other in a kind of underworld miasma, but rarely do we see them interconnect physically for any length time (other than to kill), except via the technology of cell phones. By this means we get to know the individual characters better (well, more than we’d want in real life). Perhaps it is not the history of what got them there, but certainly a higher-level vision of where they are, which is more than you get with most modern “people = death fodder” films.

There’s nothing fancy in the production. For example, the camera work is obviously handheld with a feel of found footage, though with editing it is not meant to be that. It actually works for this kind of story, making it feel in part like you are there, but not like someone just turned on a camera and shot it, which ironically takes the viewer out of the moment. The black and white also gives the grit more of a kick, with a mixture of the view being high contrast, dark, or washed out, depending on the moment (and lighting). It could also be a metaphor for a colorless life of despair, crime, narcissism and high drama (and ego-and-drug induced stupidity).

As for the acting, well, there’s no Joe Pesci, but at the same time – and more importantly – it really does feel like these guys are just being themselves (with one exception), so there’s fumbling when talking as one would in real life. Some of the dialog definitely has an improv vibe. Again, while in other circumstances in films that make take the viewer out of the action through distraction, here it is used to bring you into the hyper-realism of these characters and situations that you would never really want to be a part of in real life (hopefully). It truly feels like a form of voyeurism, as if looking through someone else’s eyes.

Despite all the violence against others, what makes these people stand out is the level of self-destructive behaviour, even if it comes out as external expression. Deep down, every one of these characters is committing slow suicide on some level, enticing others to do action against them as much as they are putting dangerous substances into themselves.

I don’t want to end this without mentioning the really great soundtrack, featuring classic hardcore style by the band Pizzatramp, from South Wales, UK.

Review: My Master Satan: 3 Tales of Drug Fueled Violence

Text © Richard Gary / Indie Horror Films, 2016

Images from the Internet

My Master Satan: 3 Tales of Drug Fueled Violence

Written and directed by Dakota Bailey

R.A. Productions

71 minutes, 2016

www.facebook.com/mymastersatan

There are generally two definitions of “underworld,” and neither of them invokes good images. One is where criminals dwell, and the other is where you go when you die. In Western culture, that usually is the place ruled by the devil (though in ancient Egypt, it was a good place run by Osiris…but I digress…). Here they are kind of simultaneous.

This is an anthology film with three dire and overlapping stories of dealers, criminals, psychopaths and drug users. The running together of the term underworld works in a similar way that the stories all meld, which is a nice touch.

Completely devoid of any kind of humor, these bleak stories rely more on realities – even with the inclusion of the voice-distorted devil, making it cringeworthy (a good thing) to watch these low-lifers react, take actions that would be shocking to most, and often talk while driving around about the motivation for their actions.

While there are three stories here, let’s be honest, who gives a fuck? They are so interconnected, one could just look at it as a series of events without compartmentalizing them into individual “tales” as much as chapters of the same book, and get the same result with the identical outcome. This is not a criticism in any way, shape or form. I actually like that it’s kind of overlapping or overflowing into each other’s messes. Also, I enjoyed that the characters not only remained the same, but kept such a good touch of a feeling of realism.

Dakota Bailey

The group of drug takin’, murderin’ and socially unacceptable people are so vile, and so heinous, that it’s both hard to imagine wanting to remain in their company, yet like watching a train wreck, you’re grateful for the opportunity to do so in the safe haven of your electronic viewing equipment. There is no lead character per se, though one can’t help focus more on Alister, perhaps because he is portrayed by the writer/director, Dakota Bailey, or maybe due to that he’s the one whose name is spoken most often. Others include the despicable Bubba (Matt Marshall), Woody (Wild Willy Wakefield), Charlie (Brian Knapp) and Dealin’ Dick (Larry Bay). The one decent character is a property caretaker (well played by Chuck Frost), who looks like he could have gone either the straight and narrow way or not. The rest just seem to be born bad.

With the exception of two bad, synthetic wigs on Bubba and Woody, these guys all look and sound the part; it’s more like they’re playing themselves than characters, which is quite the compliment. Even the locales are probably more like where these people would live, on the brink of poverty and in most cases, squalor (money going to drugs rather than accommodations and Feng Shui).

As murky as is their lifestyles and living, it is matched by the visuals of the camera. Shot on VHS, it has a look more of 8mm, with mostly a dull sepia tone, scratches, visual and sound noises, and tied up in some sharp and snappingly harsh edits. It’s not always easy to make out what is happening, and the sound quality is variable (purposefully, apparently), much like real life. Oh, and just about the only time we see color, it’s in an extreme oversaturation during LSD visitations by the title character.

We watch as our little band of degenerates steal, dig up the bodies of cheating loved ones (it’s in the film description), chainsaw victims (I did say serial killers, didn’t I?), peep in on the bathing mother of one of our crew, rat each other out, and just get involved in all kinds of mischief. Well, “mischief” is a much kinder word than their actions, but all of it is believable for these characters. The only question I have is about how they almost never wear gloves during any of their actions, like these are just natural day-to-day goings-on. Then again, perhaps it is, or they are too doped up to care.

Bailey directs the film more like a fly on the wall than as a third person, bringing the viewer in on the action rather than merely viewing it. That was a nice touch, and not always easy to achieve without making it into some sort of lost footage thingy; there is no doubt that is not the direction of the camera. This reminds me a bit of early Martin Scorsese films like Mean Streets, but Bailey is no Scorsese (who else is, right?). Then again, even in his grittiest period, Scorsese’s film felt realistic, but the viewer was still removed from the action (i.e., you knew you were watching a film in the classic sense).

While there is definitely blood, most of the action occurs just outside the camera range, and yet Bailey manages to make the suddenness of it shocking. Again, this is a nicely creative touch, keeping with the realism of the setting. Also, it does for Denver what Taxi Driver did for New York City on setting a grittiness level.

As I said, the sound on the film is variable, and in certain parts, even at full blast, I had trouble making out some of the dialog. This is my one key complaint. But this sort of leads me to a quick question, that’s kind of rhetorical, but I’ll ask it anyway. The music in the film is straight-out death metal, mostly by Luciferian Insectus. Now, Bailey’s voice here sounds like he’s talking like death metal singers vocalize. Is that his natural voice, is he also a singer in a DM band, or is he channelling Alister? [Since the publishing of this review, I have been informed by the director that it is, indeed, his natural voice.]

This is a very unusual film in its content, its characters, and its medium (e.g., look, editing, sound). This makes it not necessarily an easy film to snuggle up to like a typical horror or crime drama release, but I believe that if you give it a chance, you may find yourself drawn into a story populated by unlikeable people who you may never associate with in real life (hopefully), but still respect that you have been invited into their world for just a moment.