FILM COLUMN: MORBIDO FILM FESTIVAL

Fun, Adventure, and Dia de los Muertos in the Mountains of Michoacan, Mexico

By: Richard Elfman

November 11, 2011

Some a**hole director from Tijuana didn’t show and didn’t bother to call, which caused us to wait in our van 90 minutes at the Mexico City airport.  Not even a feature, just a short!  Now late for the opening ceremony -- El Governor himself was kicking things off -- our driver made up for lost time, winding 9,000 feet up into the mountains of Michoacan; no working seatbelts and plenty machismo displayed as our vehicle sped perilously close the “bulls” whizzing by from the opposite direction. Thankfully, I was distracted by an engaging conversation with festival coordinator Laura Rojas. Young, lovely, articulate English; I was surprised by not only her depth in classic films, but her favorite picks so closely mirroring my own (a true sign of cultural and aesthetic refinement if there ever was one). I tried to practisar me Espanish, but evidently still needed to hold my big red nose further to that Rosetta Stone.

We arrived at the picturesque village of Tlalpuhajua just as the opening ceremony crowd poured out of the ancient Oberon theatre (think Cinema Paradiso).  Festival director and master impresario Pablo Guisa Koestinger herded me and a group of directors up a maze of rocky cobblestone streets, where he had organized the townsfolk, in true Dia de Los Muertos spirit, to participate in various horror tableaus: phantom women hung from inside high windows, corpses rose and fell from ornate “tombs,” and bands of zombies lurched about in dark alleyways.  Festival co-director Karyna Martinez introduced herself -- tall, beautiful, elegant, and vivacious — the type you have restrain yourself from dropping to your knees and immediately proposing to.

Then a raucous opening night party 'til 4:00 a.m., which would set the pattern and schedule for the next four nights, which was totally fine by me, as my favorite aspect of film festivals is the boozing and schmoozing.  I usually avoid watching too many movies, as the really good ones get distribution and you can see them later, avoiding tons of boring stuff — although Morbido proved the exception in terms of having entertaining fare.

The next night, my old cult film, Forbidden Zone — recently colorized -- screened to a packed house.  We also previewed a Spanish version of a musical pre-teaser for my upcoming Forbidden Zone 2: The Forbidden Galaxy.  The crowd roared in delight...which surprised me, as most of the festival audience was comprised of rural townsfolk.  Tlalpujahua is an old fashioned, fairly isolated pueblo of 3,000.  No gas stations, almost no Internet, no heat at the hotels…and nights at that altitude hit 32 degrees!  Not the place one would expect a top international fantasy and horror film festival.  Aside from a sophisticated urban contingent of Mexico City press and multi-national directors, the rafters were literally packed each night by Tlalpujahuans (I’m talking old-school waaay upper balcony bench seating.)

Pablo explained that this "traditional" town was initially hesitant about hosting such a "daring" festival. But as Mexico has a religious (though Holloween-like) celebration of Dia de los Muertos around the same dates, Tlalpujahua eventually adopted Morbido as its own.

And Pablo, always the theatrical event host — a different costume every night -- treats the town to monster-musician rock concerts, movies screened on the wall of the village square followed by lavish fireworks, and even wild Lucha Libre extravaganzas, which Pablo personally referees.  I would compare Lucha Libre to American WWE, except the Mexican version is more colorful and passion-felt.

It was during a Lucha Libre match that I started to have my Morbido epiphany moment.  I’m guessing half the town was packed around the outdoor arena chanting, “Mexico! Mexico!,” as a duo of masked locals tossed around their Central American counterparts.  I was getting hungry (and thirsty), and strolled over to one of the nearby outdoor impromptu “bars."  It seemed like anyone could set one up on a plastic street-side table with a handful of picnic chairs.  This one included an adjacent grill and food stand, looking like a mom and pop operation. A pleasant mustachioed fellow served me a local beer, and his counterpart gave me a to-die-for quesadilla -- handmade tortilla and an absolutely sublime, homemade green mole sauce.  As I savored my beer and searched for words to describe complex flavors of the scrumptious mole, I wondered if Montezuma had eaten so well.  The “bartender” asked me about my movie; he had to work and missed it, but had enjoyed a number of other films during matinee hours.  In the distance, a masked wrestler was thrown across the ring.  The crowd cried, “Mexico! Mexico!”

It was then that I realized what Pablo and Karyna had done.  They had raised the civic pride of this community, beset by the world’s economic woes and their nation’s current problems, but they now can boast a first-class international film festival and a brilliant impresario, energizing an entire town into a unique theatrical vision. Not to mention the sheer communal Fun Factor, which was off the charts.

As a visiting “Norte Americano,” I could not have felt safer or more welcome.

During the festival, I was hustled into most of the screenings that had English language or subtitles.  Fortunately, I didn’t have to lie to any of the directors or producers this trip, as the film selections were really good.  My personal standouts were:

Masks, a German shocker by Andreas Marschall which would resonate in Hollywood, about a hot blond actress falling into the clutches of an acting coach from Hell.  Film’s producer Heiner Timm (AKA Tim Moon), a hip former rocker, was on hand to also screen one of his cool, long-form music videos.

"Director's Award" winner Penumbra, shot in Buenos Aries by brothers Adrian and Ramiro Bogliano, about a bitch realtor unwittingly renting to a devil worship cult.  Again, surprising originality, actually rooting for an unpleasant protagonist, well-paced with fun plot twists.

El Fin, by gifted Costa Rican writer-director, Miguel Gómez -- an end-of-the-world dark comedy with surprising heart and originality. Totally engaging, I hope El Fin gets North American distribution as I think it will find an audience here.

And scary “Audience Award" favorite, Emergo, shot kind of “Paranormal style” but with a touch of Poltergeist and Exorcist.  Where it pulls ahead of the Paranormals is a dynamite lead performance showing layers of character revelation.  Shot in English by 27-year-old Barcelona director Carles Torrens, the film just closed world-wide distribution deals, and top talent agency UTA has the director pegged for larger features. (I’d keep on eye on Carles Torrens!)

Our closing night party was at a club where the festival directors and Mexico City press danced the night away with locals.  Lovely TV host Magdalena Bastida gave me a salsa lesson, and I was struck not just by the woman’s glowing charisma (I guess that’s why they put her on TV), but by the absolute grace with which she swiveled her hips to the pulsating Latin beat.  "How do they move their hips like that?" thinks this red-headed gringo.  Time to practisar some more "Espanish" on that Rossetta Stone! 

*As a footnote, I attended one of Morbido's sister festivals in Tijuana several weeks later, screened Forbidden Zone and our FZ2 "Princess Polly" teaser (Spanish version), and also spoke to students at the University of Tijuana.  Did you know that the Elfman family has Mexican cousins? One of whom, David Perez, inherited a stone "Roman castle-like" structure built by Al Capone in the '20s -- spectacularly jutting over the ocean in nearby Rosarito Beach, where he does weddings and events.  I promised my Mexican audiences that I would be fluent in Spanish next time, as Buzzine is working on a bilingual Latin sister-site that we are planning in 2012.

The Morbido Film Festival took place October 27-30, 2011 in Michoacan, Mexico.