Thailand Film Festival Review - The Terrifying Film Festival, Khao Yai, Thailand. 2023

 

Strange festival review

THE HEAVENS opened as the jungle approached.

Rain fell like daggers onto the drenched canopies of Khao Yai jungle. Slowly at first, and then with more ferocity, down to earth, the deluge smashed all around us.

Thunder rumbled, a screech owl screamed, and somewhere, not too far from the park perimeter, a lone dog barked.

Photo from TTF

The GPS? Dead.

Phone battery? 3%.

Fear factor: High.

Nerves of steel and sharpened wits were required to continue on deeper into the jungle, towards the darkened hearts of predatory beasts.  We all know the story, right? That essential plot device. Out on the highway the kids stop to either pump gas or ask directions. The backward local steps forward telling the newcomers to turn around and go home. Or warns them that strange things happen in this town…Or advises the team to go back while you still have the chance…It’s a classic abandon all hope ye who enter here plot function that has kept us watching the horror genre since The Old Dark House (1932) and here we were right in the thick of it.

So, we drove the old Nissan to the side of the road, approached a mom-and-pop shop and sat watching as the old crone shuffled towards us, exhibiting one tooth with a smile, waving one claw vaguely towards the highway.

We drove on.

Doubting the authenticity of the witch’s directions the night took us deeper like a woman in love until arriving at a small resort. The proprietor greeted us beneath a battered golfing umbrella. With a lop-sided grin he explained they hadn't seen a drop of rain this year until tonight.

“Please step this way…”

Photo from TTF

Old Crone on outskirts of town – CHECK.

Strange weather conditions – CHECK.

Remote and rural location – CHECK.

Like the hapless horror protagonist I ignored the series of warnings and checked into room 303.

Outside the bungalow window rain fell so heavily that it appeared to bounce back hopelessly skywards after hammering the asphalt drive. The jungle chorus of insect calls and lizard barks silenced, for tonight, by the downpour.  

The festival had already begun a few clicks up the road at Somtow’s World, an art space and resort built with loving care by S.P Somtow award-winning novelist, classical composer, and film director of the cult classic underground horror The LaughingDead. Somtow had seen our film about cat neuturing in Patpong and had invited me to enter into the festival's debut year. The short film Capture Neuter Release that I shot on a $100 Panasonic GF9 in Bangkok's red light district was always in my mind a mini-horror, although my co-collaborator Spike N Stein considered it more of social political statement about compulsory birth control.    

The first day featured a Q and A with film producer Brian Yuzna probably best known for the 1980s VHS cult classic Re-animator. The late Director Stuart Gordan was director on that feature and also the movie Dolls. Let me tell you about Dolls, but first some backstory. When I was eight years old a video rental store in my local town turned a blind eye to a prepubescent Strange renting certificate 18 horror... This was mid-eighties and the horror was better than it has ever been before or since. Nightmare on Elm Street, Hellraiser, Videodrome, American Werewolf in London, Lost Boys, The Omen, Pet Sematary, Fright Night, Creepshow 2, The Stepfather, Hellraiser, The Evil Dead, Poltergeist, The Fly, The Fog, The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, and The Shining to name a few. For me Dolls topped 'em all.

Dolls begins, as did my journey to Khao Yai, in a car, during a storm.  An abusive father, his bitchy wife, and charming daughter find their car stalled by a storm in the middle of the bleak English countryside. Forced to shelter in a nearby mansion inhabited by a skeletal-grey couple with a knack for animating creepy dolls this movie is a wild ride indeed, and to spice up the story a couple of young Gothic-punk girls crash the party along with a kindly trucker with a 24-karat-gold-marionette-death-wish.

Brian spoke of the movie industry, then, now, and in the future. A nice explanation of the evolution from VHS exploration video nasties to streaming sites like NETFLIX and the wide open field of Youtube. Despite all the doom and gloom I remain convinced features can make money with a razor-sharp social-media marketing campaign, a name actor, and a loyal following. Out of all genres horror has historically had the best chance of becoming a surprise hit,          

Brian's talk was followed by a horror make-up workshop. Festival-goers were transformed into bloody-thirsty pigs and sapiosexual creatures of the night by Montri Wadlaiad and team. The make-up sessions continued throughout the festival and this event was a nice touch for filmmakers like myself curious to know what brand of fake blood the professionals are using.   

Photo by Strange

Then the films began to show. By far the highlight of the festival was a short entitled Love Hotel – The Guide to Japanese Midnight Culture directed by Kaichi Sato – In this beautifully shot cinematic delight a couple attempting to carry on their illicit extramarital affair in a Japanese short-time hotel are continually interrupted by a medium investigating a haunting that, in a delicious twist, is a consequence of their own demise. It’s trippy, creative, there's blow-up love dolls and much, much more in this 22-minute 2018 treat. 

Another highlight was Gnomes 2022, A jogger enters the deadly territory of a tribe of killer gnomes during her daily run. Lured by mysterious glowing mushrooms unsurprisingly similar to the liberty cap (psilocybe semilanceata) our hero is dragged underground where unspeakable nastiness occurs. 

The panel discussion continued with Bangkok-based British filmmaker, and former actor Paul Spurrier, Somtow, and Michael Shaowanasai discussing the nature of fear in an interesting talk about What Scares Us?

An actors panel also featured YouTube sensation and Capture Neuter Release actor Jason Rupp speaking about the noble craft. 

The films went on later into the Saturday night and my greatest fear was having to leave early the following morning and missing receipt of the award we undoubtingly hadn't won. The Terrifying Thai film festival showcased some great new diverse films, the care and attention in the decoration of the venue was second to none in the kingdom. We look forward to submitting and returning hopefully next year,    

Photo by Strange

 I'm not sure how the award ceremony played out, and have yet to see the awards list, but hope Gnomes and Love Hotel picked up some prizes along with a cool horror short entitled The Barber by Bangkok-based Ukrainian director Sergi Pudich. Check out the link to watch the full short movie and be sure to take that terrifying trip to the jungle next year.   

 Filmmakers can enter the festival using this LINK and the website is HERE. 

THE SERPENT - THE DAY JOURNALIST TOM VATER MET SERIAL KILLER CHARLES SOBHRAJ - PATPONG BANGKOK

Charles Sobhraj (born 6 April 1944), also known as the Bikini Killer, is a French thief, fraudster and serial killer. He preyed on Western tourists throughout Southeast Asia during the 1970s. He was nicknamed The Splitting Killer and The Serpent.

Sobhraj allegedly committed at least a dozen murders. He was convicted and jailed in India from 1976 to 1997. After his release, he retired as a celebrity in Paris. In 2004 he returned to Nepal, where he was arrested and tried. In 2005 Sobhraj received a sentence of life imprisonment. In 2007 news media reported that Sobhraj's lawyer had appealed to the then French president Nicolas Sarkozy, for intervention with Nepal. In 2008 Sobhraj announced his engagement to a Nepali woman, Nihita Biswas. The authenticity of the couple's relationship was confirmed in an open letter from American conductor David Woodard to The Himalayan Times. Sobhraj is widely believed to be a psychopath. He enjoyed the attention, charging large amounts of money for interviews and movie rights. He has been the subject of four books and three documentaries. Sobhraj's return to Nepal, where he was still eagerly sought by authorities, is believed to be the result of him wanting attention. In 2003 journalist and writer Tom Vater travelled to Kathmandu in hunt for stories. While there he had an opportunity to interview The Serpent. In this conversation at the Patpong Museum, Bangkok, Thailand, Vater talks about meeting the serial killer face to face.

Filmed at the Patpong Museum, Bangkok.

Collin Piprell - Bangkok and Thailand based Canadian Novelist 1946 - 2022.

 

I’ve always believed that to know someone truly you must first sit with them and engage in easy free-flowing conversation for many hours. Booze may be involved but it need not be. Some need prompting, some require encouragement, but most of us have an aching desire to communicate – and perhaps that’s why we spend as much time as we do writing letters, novels, and adding those meaningless little status updates on (anti)social media.

Perhaps there’s this deep primeval desire to communicate. We are the modern-day cave painters who instead of illustrating bison in smears of blood and urine tap photo montages on our Samsung A637s.    

But sometimes we must speak with a real human being in actual time. The fear is overwhelming. Conversation is a strange dance. Certain steps must be learned, boundaries tested, and areas avoided. With both the cha cha and the chit chat there’s an almost tangible shared respect at play. You can step on their toes once or twice but don’t make a habit of it.  

Yes, we must be considerate of our partner yet be challenging enough to create the edge of conflict and danger required for total engagement. From an early age our parents and guardians taught us not to talk with strangers. We tend not to dance with them neither.   

Collin Piprill, who died at the age of 76, a few days ago was no stranger and almost certainly not much of a dancer. He was, however, a wonderful conversationalist blessed with a sharp acidic wit, intelligence, solid comedic timing, and more than a handful of original ideas. He wasn’t, as one poster commented on social media, a jolly person always in a good mood. Often his moods were darker than a politician’s heart. The first ten minutes or so of conversation would often be a venting period, but he’d always brighten up as the opportunity to interject humor into the proceedings arose.

He knew how to balance a conversation. Like most writers, small talk bothered Collin greatly. He was often not interested in sharing pleasantries. I recall once arriving for our usual meeting and without even greeting the older man simply asking him “what’s the difference between guilt and shame?” Right of the bat an intense discussion comparing the western concept of guilt and the eastern shame phenomenon ensued. It’s rare to find someone who can just pick up a subject and run with it without stamping their identity all over it.  

We first met at the old Hemingway’s on Sukhumvit Soi 14. The bar had recently opened, and Collin (who struck a striking resemblance to Papa during his big game fishing years) sat brandishing a house red wine with his trademark expression fixed somewhere between a snarl or a smile. We sat at the table under the large wall clock. Time ticked away quickly as it does when you're having fun. As the glasses of wine stacked up Collin's expression would switch between one of menacing curiosity and that of boyhood hilarity. 

Collin laughed a lot. Collin believed in the actual existence of a muse in a Greek mythological sense. His favorite books were The Gingerman by J.P Donleavy, Under the Volcano by Malcom Lowry, and Infinite Jest by David Foster Wallace. A mutual friend Kevin Cummings had set up that first meeting with Collin, and we remained in contact on a regular basis ever since. He bought me a French edition of one of Bukowski's from Paris. I returned this with a copy of The Sopranos by Alan Warner that I had (somehow) had signed in my collection. We were generations apart yet bonded over wine and literature, philosophy, jokes, and stories - he was the kind of man who had good answers to big questions.   

Recently Collin withdrew from social media and we continued our correspondence by email. 

I set up a meeting at the new Hemingway’s restaurant on soi 11 around a month ago. The large man bounded into the bar with his usual swagger. We spoke of new projects – his in literature and mine in film. We were both two writers, as before, waiting for the next lucky break. 

I have neither guilt nor shame, just a little sadness that those big questions will need to be answered by others now. Collin has passed into the writer's lounge in the sky.
Save me a spot right under the clock. 

words: J.D. Strange pictures: Eric Nelson and J.D. Strange.