FILM REVIEW: LOVE EXPOSURE

In every major filmmaker's career, there is at least one film that defines who they are as an artist, and which best exemplifies their unique voice. They may go on to make equally accomplished films that may even rank among the best films of all time, but you can always trace a visionary director's work back to a single, exemplary film. For Alfred Hitchcock, that film is Vertigo, and for the maestro Martin Scorsese, that film is Goodfellas. For the controversial and brilliant Japanese filmmaker Sion Sono, that film is his masterpiece Love Exposure (2008), an epic, nearly four-hour long fantasmagoric portrait of youthful love amidst a society torn apart by violence, broken families, and religious fanaticism.

Love Exposure is the first part of a loose trilogy of films by Sion Sono, which also consists of Cold Fish (2010) and Guilty of Romance (2011). Known as his "Hate" Trilogy, Sion Sono explores how love can oftentimes become twisted into obsession and perversion in all three films. While Cold Fish and Guilty of Romance are much more downbeat and nihilistic films, Love Exposure also reaches into some pretty dark depths of human depravity. However, what sets Love Exposure apart from the other two films in the trilogy is its ultimately hopeful message of love as the ultimate form of redemption.

The focus of Love Exposure is on the relationship between Yu Honda (Takahiro Nishijima) and the young woman he is almost hopelessly in love with, the emotionally volatile Yoko (Hikari Mitsushima). Surrounding Yu's obsessive quest for Yoko's love are a plethora of outside forces which constantly threaten to entangle him--Yu's maniacally religious father Tetsu (Atsuro Watabe), a homicidal young woman named Aya Koike (Sakura Ando) who tries to abduct and indoctrinate Yu's family into a cult known as "Zero Church," and Yu's father's new girlfriend Kaori (Makiko Watanabe), a nymphomaniac whose rabid sexual appetite threatens Tetsu's religious beliefs.

Much of Love Exposure is shot with rapidly moving, hand-held cameras, giving it an exhilirating, liberating momentum which reminds one of the rule-breaking 1960s films of the French New Wave era. Scenes are displayed out of chronological order at times, as Sono freely cuts back and forth in time, and the acting in the film approaches a level of inspired hysteria at times that borders on an Andrjez Zulawski level of trance-like performances. You can feel the blood, sweat, and passion of Sono in almost every frame of Love Exposure, and one gets the sense that Sono is finally free of the traditional bounds of studio filmmaking, and he's relishing the opportunity to tell a story in his own original, unique voice. 

Against this backdrop of shall we say colorful characters, Sion Sono navigates his protagonist Yu's character arc through some outrageously absurd plot points, including an underground group of misfits who specialize in up-skirt photography of young women as a form of spiritual fulfillment. What ties all these seemingly disparate elements together is the theme of love being distorted into sexual perversion, as reflected in a more humorous manner with the up-skirt photography group, and in a darker manner with the sexual abuse subplot of Aya's character. It's no coincidence that the purpose of the Zero Church cult is to indoctrinate its members to resist all forms of sexual temptation in order to discover a more pure form of love. The final image of Love Exposure, which I will not spoil for the reader, is the purest distillation of this theme of love existing as a pure force of nature, completely divorced from all forms of perversion.

Indeed, the defining moment of Love Exposure occures after Yu abducts Yoko from the Zero Church cult, and she confronts him on a beach. Hovering over Yu like a woman possessed, Yoko gives an impassioned speech about pure love as the greatest human emotion, quoting from Corinthians 13 while Beethoven's Seventh Symphony slowly grows to a crescendo in the background. She contrasts Yu's seemingly sexual obsession with her to the familial and communal love she encountered as a cult member of the Zero Church.

It's interesting that in a career spent making films exploring all forms of human sexual debauchery and taboos, Sion Sono's best film would be one that questioned the very moral nature of these previous films. One gets the sense that Sono is almost atoning for his past "sins" as a filmmaker with Love Exposure, a film which itself contains its fair number of sexually deviant scenes, but which has an underlying current of moral and spiritual judgement running through it. After spending many years exploring the deepest and darkest depths of the human psyche, perhaps Sono has finally discovered and exposed the pure and undying love within all of us as human beings.

IT'S ABOUT INCLUSION, NOT EXCLUSION

It's interesting that ever since the Academy of Motion Picturs Art and Sciences anounced their new, more inclusive rules for eligibility for the Best Picture category, a culture war has developed between those who support the new rules as a step forward in opporutnities for minorities, and those who view the rules as somehow being a form of creative censorship and authoritarianism. Ironically, many of those in this latter camp are the same free-thinking individuals who supported the Black Lives Matter movement and were vocal in their support for police reform against brutality towards African-Americans. Now, when the Academy is doing its part to provide more equal opportunities for underrepresented communities in the industry, these formerly progressive advocates for equality are suddenly outraged and accusing the Academy of "stifling creativity."

Before we get into why so many of these individuals are so angry let's examine closely what exactly the new Academy rules are. In an effort to provide more opportunities for minorities both in front of and behind the camera in key leadership roles, the Academy implemented new rules that, starting in 2024, in order for a film to qualify for a Best Picture nomination, it must meet two out of these four standards (A through D):

Standard A (On-Screen Representation, Themes, and Narratives)-- To qualify, the film must meet one of these three criteria:

A1: At least one of the actors, either in a lead or a supporting role, must belong to an ethnic minority grouop. 

A2: At least 30% of all actors in secondary and more minor roles are from at least two of the following underrepresented groups: women, racial or ethnic group, LGBTQ+, people with cognitive or physical disabilities, or who are deaf or hard of hearing.

A3: The main storyline(s), theme or narrative of the film is centered on an underrpresented group(s)--women, racial or ethnic grouop, LGBTQ+, people with cognitive or physical disabilities, or who are deaf or hard of hearing. 

Standard B (Creative Leadership and Project Team)- To qualify, the film must meet one of these three criteria below:

B1: At least two of the following creative leadership positions and department heads (Casting Director, Cinematographer, Composer, Costume Designer, Director, Editor, Hairstylist, Makeup Artist, Produer, Production Designer, Set Decorator, Sound, VFX Supervisor, Writer) are from the following underrpresented groups: 

• Women
• Racial or ethnic group
• LGBTQ+
• People with cognitive or physical disabilities, or who are deaf or hard of hearing

At least one of those positions must belong to an ethnic minority group.

B2: At least six other crew/team and technical positions are from an underrpresented racial or ethnic group. 

B3: At least 30% of the film's crew is from the following underrepresented groups:

• Women
• Racial or ethnic group
• LGBTQ+
• People with cognitive or physical disabilities, or who are deaf or hard of hearing

And, to summarize the remaining standards, for Standard C, a film must have paid apprenticeships, internships, and training opporunities for underrpresented groups, and for Standard D, a film should have multiple in-house senior executives from an underrepresented group on their marketing, publicity, and/or distribution teams.

The key to understanding these rules are that for a film to be eligible for Best Picture, the film must only meet two out of four of the standards, and within each standard, the film would have to meet only one of the three required rules. Many of those who are opposed to the rules change state that it is somehow a form of censorhip which will stifle the creativity of the filmmakers, because it would require them to insert a minority actor/character into the film even if that character is not part of the original storyline. However, a film could qualify even if it featured an all-White cast and all-White themed storyline as long as some of the paid interns/trainees and in-house senior executives are minorities (that would qualify the film under standards C and D).

This pretty much destroys the argument by those who are against these rules as somehow stifling "creative freedom," as nothing in the actual film's storyline or character descriptions has changed, as long as the film production has employed some minority key crew members or interns/trainees.

In fact, by giving key crew positions to minorities and/or underrepresented groups, a film is opening up opporutnities for those who normally would be passed over for these positions, and this in the end would benefit the film production as a whole as it would offer a diversity of voices in the creative decision making processes of the film. These new rules are not some sort of a draconian Hays Code form of censorship dictating to filmmakers what they can or cannot film; rather, they are guidelines to provide more opportunities for ethnic groups and underrepresented communities that have traditionally been ignored on film sets.

Even if a film wanted to try to qualify under standards A and B, all the filmmakers would have to do is have at least one actor in either a lead or supporting role who was a minority or member of an underrepresented group, and hire a key leadership crew member from the same categories. Would having one Asian-American actor on set and one African-American director on set somehow ruin the creative vision of a film that otherwise was a majority White production? Those who are arguing against these new rules somehow seem to feel threatened by the presence of having two non-White people in key roles on set, and this is very troubling. It's as if those who are against implementing these new rules somehow think the African-American director and Asian-American actor would somehow conspire together to sabotage the film.

Some have even argued that by requiring a certain number of minorities on a film set, it will prevent other more qualified people from being hired solely based on their skillset. By following this line of reasoning, it implies that by introducing minorities into potential consideration for film jobs, the overall skill level for the film set will not be as consistent because the minorities are not as skilled or qualified as the non-minority film crew members. Thus, historically, Hollywood has hired White actors to portray minority characters because they were considered more talented than their minority counterparts.

This thinking is what could have led Disney to decide to hire only White crew members in all the major leadership positions, from director, to writer, to cinematographer, on their Chinese set and themed film Mulan. It was Disney's intention to create an "authentic" portayal of Chinese culture, and they didn't think it would be beneficial to hire Chinese lead crew members who had intimate knowledge of their own culture to help them in their efforts?  Instead, it is glaring that not a single key consultant on the Mulan film was Chinese; my only thought was that xenophobia played a role and they didn't want to give Chinese people control over the telling of their own stories.

On the other hand, the Disney film Black Panter (albeit it was more of a Marvel film) was the opposite of the Mulan situation in the sense that not only were all the lead actors African-American, but the director and many of the lead crew positions were also African-Americans and minorities. This resulted in a film that creatively touched on many aspects of Black culture to tell a unique and compelling story about the African-American experience in the form of a super hero film. Mulan could have turned out the same way, but instead we got a White-washed portrait of Chinese culture that couldn't even resonate with audiences in China itself.

The history of Hollywood is rife with examples of non-representation of minority cultures, from casting Al Jolson, a white lead actor in blackface, to play an African-American character in the 1927 film The Jazz Singer, to casting Rex Harrison, a British actor, to play the Asian lead character in the 1946 film Anna and the King of Siam. Even behind the camera, Hollywood has traditionally hired White creative leads to tell the story of non-minority cultures, as exemplified in misfires such as Memoirs of a Geisha, which also cluelessly cast Chinese actors to play Japanese characters. 

So, the new Academy rules are smartly addressing these issues by encouraging filmmakers to employ more minorities in key leadership positions both behind and in front of the camera to tell more accurate stories about their own cultures. Again, even if filmmakers were telling an all-White themed story, all they would have to do is employ key crew positions with minorities, which would only benefit the film in the end by opening up opportunities for underrepresented communities, and bring diverse voices into the mix.

The same seemingly progressive individuals who support BLM and are agaisnt police brutatlity are suddenly up in arms over the new Academy rules for inclusivity in the industry, but as I explained above, these rules are not some new form of creative censorship. If you read the rules carefully, you can clearly see that they are framed to simply allow more opportunities for minorities and underrepresented groups to contribute to the making of a film. 

The rules do not dictate that you have to arbitraly include a minority character into your film; instead, you just have to open up your mind and allow those who have traditionally been ignored some decision making input on your film set, either behind the camera or in front of it. If you view the rules this way, you'll see that the new rules are not about exluding your creative freedom and power, instead it's about including those who want their voices to finally be heard into the filmmaking process. 

FILM REVIEW: CASINO

While Goodfellas portrayed the gangster lifestyle as an almost non-stop 24 hour party, Scorsese took a completely different route with Casino (1995), a much darker and more nihilistic film. During its initial release, although it had some effusive praise, Casino was met with a much more lukewarm reception from critics. Many compared it to the highly acclaimed Goodfellas, citing that it lacked the warmth and vibrancy of the former film. However, while it indeed is a colder and more brutal film, Casino is a masterpiece in its own right, as it expands upon Goodfellas' documentary-like approach to the gangster genre in a more epic and operatic manner.

Based on Nicholas Pileggi's nonfiction book Casino: Love and Honor in Las Vegas, Casino recounts the life of Sam "Ace" Rothstein (Robert De Niro). Set during the 1970s, Casino depicts how Ace, with the help of the mafia and his mob associate Nicholas "Nicky" Santoro (Joe Pesci), oversaw a lucrative gambling empire in Las Vegas. It also recounts his tumultous marriage to former prostitute Ginger (Sharon Stone), a relationship which gets further complicated once she starts having an affair with Nicky, as well as her former pimp Lester (James Woods). This starts a dominoe effect of compications that eventually leads to the end of Ace's gambling empire after the FBI catches up to him.

Casino uses the same cinematic techniques as Goodfellas to tell its story, with an almost constant voice-over narration from the main protagonist, rapid camera movements and edits to emphasize the sometimes frenzied criminal operations of the gangster lifestyle, as well as a soundtrack of popular, retro rock songs, along with an effective, recurrent use of J.S. Bach's St. Matthew Passion in the opening and closing credits, as well as throughout the film. However, where Casino diverges from Goodfellals is its much less sympathetic protagonist Ace, who is a stone-cold businessman who rarely seems to take any pleasure in the gangster lifestyle, much different from Henry Hill and his joie de vivre gangsters.

Indeed, Ace takes a very analytical and exacting approach to running his operations, best exemplified in his insistence on the chef at his casino's restaurant to have the exact same amount of blueberries in each muffin. Scorsese takes this same precise approach to the making of Casino, as he documents almost every detail of Ace's business operations in minute details. In one amazing sequence, Scorsese traces the specific trail of the flow of money within Ace's casino, from the gambling floors, through the kitchen, along a hidden location, and into a highly guarded secret vault. At times, this attention to detail can be exhausting, which may have alienated some critics, but Scorsese is doing this to put the viewer into the cold and sometimes heartless mind of his protagonist.

In this way, Casino is one of Scorsese's most demanding films, as it removes virtually any aspects of sympathy and warmth from its characters, and asks us as viewers to truly see if the gangster lifestyle is something we really want to join. Due to its general tone of joviality, it is easy to misinterpret Scorsese's earlier film Goodfellas as being a celebration of the life of a gangster. Casino, on the other hand, is an unrelentingly grim and dark film, filled with brutal scenes of unadorned violence that recall the nihilistic gangster films of Kinju Fukasaku. 

Along with this pessimistic outlook on the gangster lifestyle, Scorsese also employs religiuos symbolism throughout Casino, such as portraying Ace's Las Vegas casino as a sort of Eden-like paradise in the midst of a vast desert (this is exemplified in an astounding shot of the lights of the Las Vegas Strip at night surrounded by the darkness of a seemingly endless desert). Ace is eventually tempted by the Eve-like Ginger, who seduces Ace and manipulates him to bring about his own Edenic downfall. 

Also, Nicky is portrayed as a Satan-like figure, as exemplified by a scene where smoke seems to ascend from behind Nicky after he commits a horrific act of violence. Nicky's rampant amorality heightens this symbolism, and he serves in a way as the instigator for Ginger to destroy Ace's Edenic paradise when he starts an affair with her, much like Satan tempted Eve with the apple to bring about the fall of Adam and Eve from Eden.  

Casino opens with Ace literally falling through the air in slow-motion against flames and the glowing lights of Las Vegas. This image is Scorsese's way of poetically portraying Ace's eventual fall from the Eden of his Las Vegas casino empire. The paradise that Ace controlled was one of his own making, but one that had to end because it was ultimately an amoral, criminal enterprise. 

With its religious symbolism, anchored by Scorsese's Catholic faith, and its morality tale of a man brought down by the sin of his own pride, Casino is very much the counterpoint to Goodfellas' more lively portrait of gangsters. The two films on their own are masterpieces of cinema which need to be judged on their own merits to fully appreciate them. Goodfellas was a reverie of sorts for the exultation of youth, while Casino is more about the more mundane responsibilites of adulthood and trying to keep your career and success in check. Ultimately, Casino is a cold-blooded portrait of a man whose entire life was built upon his own self-interest; something which Scorsese shows ultimately leads to personal isolation and destruction.

FILM REVIEW: THE LAND OF HOPE

While the world is in the midst of a global pandemic in the form of the Coronavirus, and civil unrest is erupting in the United States and beyond due to the tragic murder of George Floyd, there is truly an apocalyptic feel to the start of the new decade in 2020.  Back in 2012 Sion Sono made a film called The Land of Hope, which was eerily prescient of the chaotic and disruptive events of 2020.  The Land of Hope was a fictionalized account about the adverse effects of the Fukushima nuclear accident in Japan, and how it destroyed the lives of two families.

The two families are the Onos and Suzukis, who are produce and dairy farmers whose lives are uprooted after an earthquake causes a nuclear meltdown nearby. Although the government evacuates the Suzuki family to a shelter, the Onos are told to remain where they are because their property was deemed safe due to being only inches away from the government designated nuclear meltdown danger zone. The Land of Hope explores how the various members of the Ono and Suzuki family respond to the chaos wrought by the nuclear accident.

What reminds one of the Coronavirus outbreak are chilling, intimate scenes in The Land of Hope of people trying to lead normal lives in the midst of a deadly environmental disaster; the pregnant wife Izumi Ono (Megumi Kagurazaka) shops for groceries in a full hazmat suit, the elder Yasuhiko Ono (Natsuyagi) cares for his dementia suffering wife Chieko (Naoko Otani) by himself while living right next to the nuclear poisoned zone, the young couple Mitsuru Suzuki (Yutaka Shimizu) and Yoko (Hikari Kajiwara) wander through the eerily deserted and destroyed wasteland of the nuclear meltdown.

Indeed, The Land of Hope is very much about the will to survive and bring about a semblance of normalcy to ones' life while a society is falling apart everywhere. Most of Sion Sono's films are about outsiders who refuse to fit into the norms of everyday society, while The Land of Hope is about people trying their best to rebuild a society to its original roots. However, if one digs a little deeper, Sono may be using a natural disaster as a means to destroy the current society and rebuild it based on new values. It's no coincidence that the younger members of the Suzuki family are more willing to let go of their home and start a new life, while the elder Yasuhiko stubbornly refuses to leave his property even though it will inevitably be destroyed by the nuclear disaster.

While Sion Sono's earlier films like Love Exposure and Tokyo Tribe are filmed in a wild and hectic manner verging on inspired anarchy at times, The Land of Hope is startlingly restrained and constructed in a much more traditional manner. Scenes are allowed to play out naturally and without the use of rapid cuts or camera movements, and Sono is more interested in exploring intimate depictions of domesticity and quiet human interaction than splashy outbursts of cinematic lunacy. 

It isn't until the last act of The Land of Hope that Sono starts employing some of his more avant-garde techniques, with the use of disarming instrumental music and rapidly cut scenes of death and destruction, but until then Sono holds back his more outlandish tendencies. However, The Land of Hope ends on a note of optimism and renewed faith in the general goodness of human nature, something which we don't see too often in a Sono film.

Although it's not as much discussed as his more bonkers films, The Land of Hope is a refreshing change of pace for Sono. The Land of Hope is one of Sono's most humanistic films, as it explores the notion of hope and familial love as opposed to his darker and more nihilistic films about the baser side of human nature, such as Strange Circus, Guilty of Romance, and Cold Fish. Sono uses a fictionalized account of the Fukushima nuclear accident to reveal how human nature can transcend even the most intense forms of suffering. Like Martin Scorsese did with Silence, Sono is taking a break from his usual more frenetic fare to tell a contemplative tale of faith and survival.

FILM REVIEW: GOODFELLAS

Some films you watch once, and their memory gradually fades into oblivion. Martin Scorsese's Goodfellas (1990) is a film whose individual scenes linger in your mind like blissful memories from a more glorious time period. Indeed, Goodfellas ushered in one of the best decades in world cinema (the 1990s), which produced such groundbreaking classics as Casino, A Brighter Summer Day, The Emperor and the Assassin, Ju Dou, La Belle Noiseuse, Underground, Princess Mononoke, and Days of Being Wild. What makes Goodfellas such an essential film is its virtually perfect blend of various cinematic audio and visual techniques to give the viewer an immersive, ground-level portrait of the outlaw culture of the gangster lifestyle.

Goodfellas is based on Nicholas Pileggi's non-fiction book Wiseguy, which chronicles the rise and fall of the former gangster, later turned FBI informant Henry Hill (Ray Liotta), from his youth in the 1950s, through the turbulent and wild 1960s, and into the 1970s and 1980s. The film is grounded by career highlight performances of such legendary actors as Lorraine Bracco as Henry's wife Karen, Joe Pesci as the volatile gangster Tommy DeVito, and, of course, Robert De Niro as the cold-booded killer James Conway. Paul Sorvino also gives a memorably chilling performance as the gang boss Paul Cicero.

What sets Goodfellas apart from so many other gangster films is its genuine passion and commitment to the material. Scorsese didn’t just make a gangster film to introduce another familiar entry into the tried and true gangster genre.  Rather, he created Goodfellas as an homage to all the gangster films he loved, and also as a memoir of sorts to the gangster lifestyle that surrounded him as a young man raised in the Little Italy area of New York. The tone of the film itself, depite its grim and ultimately nihilistic ending, is almost celebratory of this lifestyle, which has caused some to accuse it of glorifiying the violent lifestyle of the mob.  

The truth is that Scorsese is not advocating the life of the gangster, rather he is portraying it without passing judgement on the admitedly morally corrupt characters he depicts. Yes, we see Henry and his cohorts living what seems like a grand and lavish parade of uninterrupted pleasure, but this is only a reflection of the reality of their lives at the time. From the instantly memorable opening of the film, when Henry proclaims over voice-over that he always wanted to be a gangster, Scorsese is making it clear to the audience that he is not making Goodfellas to outright condemn the protagonists of his film. Instead, he is providing us an immersive, ground-level, almost documentary-like portrait of the working grunts of the Italian mafia.

Henry, along with Tommy and James, are not the bourgeois and sophisticated royalty family of gangsters in Francis Ford Coppola's The Godfather films or even Scorsese's own Casino; they are more like working-class stiffs who are constantly trying to score the next big heist. The lifestyle that Scorsese depicts in Goodfellas is one of a brotherhood of associates who live each day like its their last. We see dynamic sequences of Henry and his close-knit group of outlaws partying at the Copacabana nightclub (which includes one of the most celebrated, uninterrupted, tracking shots in cinema history), staying up late at night after one of their many illegal schemes, and genuinely enjoying each other's company. 

However, Scorsese knows that all good things must come to an end, so after Henry and his gangster associates eventually pull off their most lucrative scheme, the robbing of the Lufthansa vault at JFK airport, their lives start to fall apart due to jealousy, paranoia, and back-stabbing acts of violence. Scorsese tells this epic story of friendship and betrayal using a wide-range of cinematic techniques that have influenced countless filmmakers. He employs almost non-stop background music of various pop, rock songs, complemented by a lively voice-over narration by Henry Hill that serves to not only move the story forward, but also mirrors at times the hectic nature of what we see on-screen. The best evidence of this is the epilogue of the film, in which Henry narrates his increasingly frenzied and drug-fueled activities during the day in which he was finally caught by the FBI and turned over to witness protection as an informant.

Goodfellas is one of those films where every element, from the acting, to the directing, to even the smallest details in the set design, works almost perfectly to create a once-in-a-lifetime cinematic experience. Scorsese himself has tried to emulate this same experience in future films to varying degrees of success, from his follow-up film Casino, to his late career masterpiece The Wolf of Wall Street.  Although these subsequent films are classics in their own ways, none of them match the passion and intensity of Goodfellas, which leaps off the screen as if it was something that Scorsese just had to make. With Goodfellas, Scorsese is showing us the visceral power inherent in cinema, a force which can reach unprecented heights with the right combination of talent and love for the material.

INTERVIEW: JOE BADON

 

In an age when so many major films have escalating budgets that rely on soulless, artificial digital CGI effects to tell their stories, it is refershing when a micro-budget film like Sister Tempest arrives to remind us of the exciting possibilities still inherent in cinematic storytelling. 

Using a budget that is only a fraction of the cost of a typical studio film, the filmmaker Joe Badon uses practical effects, as well as carefully, hand-crafted costume and set designs to tell an expansive story with loads of imagination in Sister Tempest. In this interview, Joe Badon discusses what inspired him to make Sister Tempest, as well as his thoughts on film and art.

Can you talk a bit about your own background as a visual artist and illustrator, and how this inspired your films?

I've been professionally illustrating comics and storyboards for about 13 years. Somebody once called comics the "Poor man's movies". That's basically why I pursued comic illustration for so long. Also, storyboarding under other directors gave me plenty of insight on how to tell a story visually. 

Sister Tempest provides a very unique take on the family drama story of the bond between sisters. What inspired you to create this story?

This story is one of the most personal pieces of art I've ever created. It's me dealing with my personal relationships and also my divine relationships. I have a lot of religious shame from growing up in a Catholic Church to then eventually becoming a Youth Pastor at an Evangelical Church and then leaving the church having to deprogram myself from basically this cult that I was once in. And then after all of that, having to come to terms with and accepting who I really am-- which is basically just a screwed up weirdo. 

I took those experiences and funneled it into this fantasy tale about a torn relationship between two sisters. 

The special effects, as well as the set and costume designs, for Sister Tempest were very impressive. Can you talk a bit about the budget for Sister Tempest, as well as some of the visual and cinematic influences on your visual design for the film?

I wanted this film to be a cinematic mixtape so each layer of the movie had to have a distinct style. BUT we were on a VERY tight budget of $25,000. So I decided that the best way to pull off big ideas on a tiny budget was to keep everything retro looking and kitschy. 

I remember that I told my special effects guys that I wanted us to pretend that we're in the 70s and we're trying to pull off this big sci fi film with only the available resources and style that would be available to us in the 70s. I'm not sure if I pulled that off but that's what I was aiming for, at least. 

With the family drama, we wanted a 70's tv show sitcom meets Wes Anderson style. My wife Tonya really helps me with the look of my films (sets, costumes and wardrobe). So we both looked at shows like The Brady Bunch and One Day at a Time for the sets, wardrobe and hairstyle of the family drama aspect of the film. 

For a lot of the fantasy and choir sequences, we referenced The Color of Pomegranates because I am obsessed with that film. It's a perfect visual style that is obscenely underused. 

For the Kaiju sized Spaceman sequences, we studied Godzilla (of course) but also the TV show Danger 5 for its miniature work. 

There's a Space Council in the film. That was mainly inspired by the space council from the film The Evil Brain From Outer Space with some Zardoz and Zeta One sprinkled in there. 

How did you find the performers for your film?  In particular, the lead actress Kali Russell gave a very powerful performance.

I put out a casting call on Facebook and that's how I found the vast majority of my performers from both the films I've made. 

And Kali NAILED her video audition. Then she came over and read for me and I was convinced because she could change emotions on a dime and completely convince you. She's classically trained and because of that, she makes it look effortless. Plus, she was EXTREMELY easy to work with. She was up for anything you needed her to do, any last minute changes or requests-- she just went with it. 

Your own films have very elaborate and impressive production designs but on a limited budget. Would you ever want to work on a huge budget Hollywood studio film, and if so, are there any film franchises, books, or existing characters you would like to make with this increased budget?

Honestly, I really just want to get my own stories out there instead of working on someone else's creation. It feels weird. Not to say that I wouldn't do it but it just feels weirdly unfaithful to tell any stories other than my own.

BUT for shits and giggles, in another reality: 

Maybe take a stab at Alejandro Jodorowsky's Dune. I know I'd fuck it up severely but it'd be fun to shoot! Dr. Phibes would make a fun remake that everyone would probably hate. Maybe lovingly remake Exorcist 2: The Heretic because Boorman is incredible and that was an incredibly underrated film. 

Oh and Krull...that has so much potential for sci-fi, psychedelic, fantasy insanity. 

Can you talk about any future projects you are working on now?

God, I'm just trying to get through promoting, marketing and selling this one. I do have quite a few story outlines, plus I've shot a quarantine short film (that may stretch into a feature) but right now I've been devoting all my time to the post and premiere of Sister Tempest. 

Plus, I need some slightly bigger investors for projects moving forward, mainly because I want to pay all the cast and crew a living wage. I'm tired of having to have people pretty much volunteer their time. They need to be paid better. 

Thank you for your time, anything else you would like to mention?

Thank you so much! I appreciate you taking the time to watch the film and interview me! You can check out Sister Tempest at sistertempest.blogspot.com or look us up on Facebook, Instagram and Twitter. Just search for Sister Tempest.

 

FILM REVIEW: SISTER TEMPEST

The astonishing film Sister Tempest (2020) is not for the faint of heart, nor for those with limited imagination. Instead, if you crave films that will sever your carotid arteries, as well as warm up your still beating heart, then the absolutely gonzo and brilliant filmmaker Joe Badon has created something that will satisfy your love for the blissfully strange. Sister Tempest recalls the 1970s midnight cult films of Alejandro Jodorowsky with its startling scenes of hallucinatory depravity, and its non-linear, trippy narrative ranks with the best of classic surrealists like Salvador Dali and Luis Bunuel. But, in the end, Badon has constructed an absolutely idiosyncratic and unique cinematic experience that is entirely his own. Sister Tempest is a visual feast and a new cult classic that reminds us of the immense possiblities still waiting to be discoverd in cinema. 

The less said about Sister Tempest's story the best, as one of its chief pleasures is to see how the plot steadily reveals more and more surprising layers. Its framing story involves two close-knit sisters who have to fend for themselves after a family tragedy. Anne Hutchinson (played by Kali Russell in a powerful performance) watches over and raises her younger sister Karen (Holly Bonney) as if she was her own daughter. After Karen mysteriously disappears, Anne's life falls apart until she meets and develops a sisterly relationship with Ginger Breadman (Linnea Gregg), a young student of hers at an all-girls art school. Eventually, Ginger's relationship with Anne starts to mirror her previous relationship with her missing sister Karen, whom Anne has never fully gotten over.

Built around this central framing story is a dark and twisting deep dive into the inner psyche of Anne, whose fragile mental state steadily falls apart until we are essentially viewing the mind-scape of what may be a schizophrenic. Badon fills Sister Tempest with alternately shocking and aesthetically gorgeous visual tableus that reflect Anne's deteriorating mental state. We are witnessing both an unsettling portrait of a woman gradually descending into insanity, as well as a blissful examination of the bonds of familial love. 

The visual references in Sister Tempest range from Japanese kaiju films like Godzilla, to 1950s cult classic science fiction Hollywood films like the Day the Earth Stood Still and The War of the Worlds. Major figures in Anne's life manifest themselves as pop culture representations from the world of cinema, painting, as well as comic books. Badon, who is also an accomplished visual artist himself, stages several scenes in Sister Tempest against colorful, animated backdrops, giving the film the feel at times of a live-action manga. Near the end of Sister Tempest, Badon even includes a clever reference to Marvel superhero films and Japanese anime.

What makes Sister Tempest such an astonishing achievement is that Badon has been able to create eye-popping special effects and set designs at a fraction of the cost of a typcial Hollywood blockbuster film, but with even more imagination and visual flair. Badon created elaborately constructed miniature sets for many of his major locations (as an homage to similar sets from the classic Toho Studios Godzilla films), and the psychedelic costume and creature designs fit his overall pop-culture, retro 1950s aesthetic. Oftentimes, the digital CGI effects of modern day Hollywood films feel hollow and artificial, but Badon's practical effects and hand-crafted set design feel visually alive and authentic.   

Most of all, Sister Tempest is a reminder that there are still possiblities for cinema to continually innovate as an artform, and to embrace new forms of visual and narrative storytelling. Sister Tempest's continuous parade of hallucinatory sequences can enduce an almost trance-like state in the viewer, resembling what Jodorowsky was attempting to accomplish in his late career films The Dance of Reality and Endless Poetry. Like those films, Badon approaches cinema as the ultimate, mind-altering experience. Indeed, at times the dream-logic and startling use of colors in Sister Tempest resembles an acid trip; one that begins as a horrifying nightmare, but gradually evolves into a peaceful dream about sistery love.