AS WE KNOW IT

Stars: Taylor Blackwell, Mike Castle, Oliver Cooper, Danny Mondello, Chris Parnell and Pam Grier.
Writers: Brandon DePaolo, Christopher Francis, Josh Monkarsh.
Director: Josh Monkarsh

Rating: ★ ★ ★

The well-manicured rock gardens of L.A.’s suburban hills are flowing red thanks to Agnes oat milk, a dairy substitute that’s turning Los Angelinos into ravenous zombies in Josh Monkarsh’s As We Know It. This giggly throwback to the teen buddy comedies of the late 90s subs in Mike Castle, as struggling novelist James, and Oliver Cooper, the film’s MVP as oafish stoner Bruce, for ‘Jason Biggs and Seann William Scott’ types; mismatched mates facing off against the undead uprising in a low-key but winningly likable rom-zom-com.

Monkarsh and his co-writing posse of Brandon DePaolo and Christopher Francis don’t leave the connection to chance, setting their story in the late 1990s and riffing on such decade-specific artefacts as Kevin Costner’s Waterworld, brick-like portable home phones, pre-smart TV TVs and those bastions of smallscreen journalism, Geraldo Rivera and Phil Donahue. Also of the period is the Pixie Dream Girl archetype, embodied here by Taylor Blackwell’s doe-eyed and endearingly sassy Emily.

James is in a deep funk, having recently split with Emily; so distracted is he from real life, not only has his writing stalled but he has also failed to cotton-on that his hometown is in the grip of an extinction event. It takes Bruce banging on his front door to bring him into the present; they make to hightail it out of town, but a syphoned gas tank means they have to bunker down in James’ pad (beautifully set decorated by Asiah Thomas-Mandlman and production designed by Lorus Allen).

The ‘rom’ revs up when Emily drops by to say a final goodbye before driving to Seattle with her girlfriends. When the girls meet an ugly demise, Emily is left to survive alongside her ex and his bestie, with whom she also shares an awkward past. In the mix are a food delivery guy on the turn (Danny Mondello), a sexy neighbour (the iconic Pam Grier, clearly having some fun) and SNL alumni Chris Parnell cameoing as an LA affiliate newshound.  

The bittersweet conclusion gels ideally with that particularly late-90s sense of foreboding that the impending new millennium held. Between the lad’s comic chemistry and the occasional teeth-on-flesh ickiness, Monkarsh focuses on the missed opportunity for a soulmate pairing that James and Emily let slip. True love doesn’t quite conquer all in As We Know It, but it is at the centre of this warmly funny spin on the old “better to have loved and lost, than never…” refrain. 

CHRISTMESS

Stars: Steve Le Marquand, Darren Gilshenan, Hannah Joy, Nicole pastor, Aaron Glenane, Damien Nixey and Kya Stewart.
Writer/Director: Heath Davis.

Rating: ★ ★ ★ ★

For an auteur whose trajectory as a character-driven storyteller continues to rise, Heath Davis understands the voice of the fallen everyman with remarkable insight. Across three self-penned features, his lead characters have been men whose lives have peaked without their knowledge and who lean into their inner demons for support on the downward slide. From the football star recovering from a gambling addiction in Broke (2016) to the sarcastic novelist self-medicating his way through a sophomore slump in Book Week (2018), Davis writes about people who are at a moment when personal redemption is within reach, but so is a further fall.

In the bittersweet world of Davis’ latest, Christmess, that tarnished idol is Chris Flint (a terrific Steve Le Marquand, pictured above, reteaming with his Broke director). Chris is a Silver Logie-winning celebrity once so in demand that, in one of the film’s more eccentric revelations, he once acted in a gay love scene with Chris O’Donnell. But Flint’s fame is long gone; substance abuse has led to an extended period in rehab. Upon release, his agent fails to materialise for the promised car ride, meaning Chris has to schlep across Sydney’s western suburban sprawl in the blistering summer heat. A new life beckons, but the first stop is a halfway house…just in time for Christmas.

The comedy/drama framework is at its firmest within the home’s red brick-veneered walls, where Davis’ three-hander character work comes to life. Providing Chris’ new moral compass is sponsor Nick (Darren Gilshenan), a man committed to righting the tragic wrongs of his own past by keeping his charges on a spiritually-focussed road to recovery. Sharing the space is lively wannabe starlet Joy (Middle Kids’ lead singer Hannah Joy, pictured below, in a star-making support turn), with whom Chris develops a sweet bond. Scenes between the three are often staged around the most mundane co-living moments - cooking and cleaning roster; house rules - but with all three living the recovering addict’s mantra ‘one day at a time’, their small moments together carry dramatic weight.

Chris nails down a gig as a mall Santa, an initially hopeful development until a chance encounter with his estranged daughter, Noelle (Nicole Pastor) leads to a very unSanta-like public moment. Chris’ desire to reconnect with his adult child becomes the emotional core of the film, a reminder that this time of the year for many people is not the happiest on the calendar. One of the filmmaker’s strengths is that he can warmly convey empathy and optimism yet, as captured in the final moments of his latest, not forgo real-world truths in favour of seasonal sentimentality.

There is no doubt that Heath Davis has made a Christmas film (just look at those character names), but it is one from an addict’s perspective; from the point-of-view of a damaged man and his friends, each in need of that ‘miracle’ that the season promises and, in most December films, delivers. But Christmess is less a feel-good film and more a ‘just-feel-something’ film. The 25th is just another day for Chris, perhaps a little bit better than the 24th, and Davis helps us understand that is a good day for his fallen star.

CATS OF MALTA

With: Karmen Colerio, Michelle Degura, Salvu Gilson, Polly March, Nikki Micallef, Isaac Muscat, Matthew Pandolfino and Roza Zammit Salinos.
Director: Sarah Jayne Portelli

Rating: ★ ★ ★ ½

 

Director Sarah Jayne Portelli pivots a sweet-natured travelogue essay on the rampant strays of a central Mediterranean archipelago into a melancholic longing for traditional community values with her effortlessly lovely film, Cats of Malta. The personalities she profiles - feline or otherwise - combine in this charmingly irresistible testament to show one species can grow attached to another species, despite no reciprocation of affection whatsoever.

Maybe that is a little cynical (full disclosure - I’m a dog guy). There is certainly no denying that the expat Australian director has skilfully corralled an endearing collection of human and cat types, all bonded by their shared life on the island, and captured that coexistence against some truly flavourful location photography. 

The opportunity to explore Malta’s ‘Cat Culture’ comes to Portelli through her own ancestry - the project came to life on an extended trip back to her homeland - but her insight is vast; the documentary ultimately reaches beyond its azure shorelines and defines how animals and humans bring out the best in each other. A key thematic component of the documentary is the mental health boost that the island’s co-living arrangement provides.

The director hints at the profundity of this interrelationship with her first subjects, a father-daughter pair who turned their lives upside-down to save Nanoo, a stray that had become a favourite of their patrons just by hanging around. It is revealed that the elderly gentleman feels a kinship with the cat, and many others like it, because he cared for strays with his late wife. 

From this point, Cats of Malta paints a portrait of a place where kindness to fellow creatures is a cherished human virtue, and those who defy or deny the cats’ existence - the greedy developers, like those who demolished the iconic ‘Cat Village’; the cruel, dark-hearted types who deliberately maim or poison - are the true scourge of a modern society.

Portelli doesn’t address all the issues that might be raised when an island of 316 km2 (122 sq mi) - the tenth-smallest country by area - is populated by 100,000 cats. Not to be indelicate, but…surely there is an ‘odour’ problem? And the species as a whole is not exactly known for their silent ‘nighttime activities.’ More seriously, anti-cat advocates are denied right-of-reply when some of their actions are put under the spotlight.

All of which would unravel the sheer positivity at the heart of Cats of Malta, and that would be a shame. The joy that caring for and sharing life with the island’s four-legged fur-people is more than enough to sustain the upbeat narrative. Sarah Jayne Portelli captures a utopian existence for those who draw soul-enriching pleasure from caring unquestioningly, and of those who are happy to lap it up. 

VIOLETT

Stars: Georgia Eyers, Angela Punch McGregor, Sam Dudley, Valentina Blagojevic, Simon Lockwood, Mani Shanks, Kingsley Judd, Jay Jay Jegathesan and Suzi Aleqaby.
Writer/Director: Steven J. Mihaljevic

Rating: ★ ★ ★ ★

VIOLETT is the Closing Night feature at The 2023 A Night of Horror International Film Festival. For session details, click here.

Steven J. Mihaljevic displays a true auteur’s vision in his second feature, the dark psychological drama Violett. A grieving mother spirals deeper into her own inner darkness when she employs familiar imagery from her missing daughter’s past to help cope with her misery. But the images she conjures are filtered through her rage and desperation, resulting in a nightmarish modern fairy tale that the Perth filmmaker presents in pitch black shadows, rich primary colours and brilliantly-realised bleakness.

As Sonya, the young mother struggling to define the line between shattered reality and corrosive insanity, Georgia Eyers delivers a star-making performance of achingly tangible anguish. Her face a pall of ashen anxiety, her eyes hollowed by corrosive sadness, Eyers (having worked with her director on his debut feature, The Xrossing) crafts a potent examination of guilt-ridden remorse. The actress has a lock on ‘shattered young woman’ roles at present, with her empathetic performance in Nick Kozakis’ Godless: The Eastfield Exorcism also gaining great notices.

Not unlike how Neil Jordan adapted the ‘Little Red Riding Hood’ story to evoke complex adult themes in his cult classic The Company of Wolves, so too does Mihaljevic borrow from dark fairy tale iconography to portray his take on Sonya’s grief. Most arresting of all his twisted visions is Jay Jay Jegathesan’s street artist monster ‘Victor’, fashioned on Australian kid-TV favourite Mr Squiggle. Also certain to haunt audiences is Simon Lockwood’s hideous The Candy Man, whose finger-food specialty is the stuff of nightmares.  

While not quite a ‘Keyser Soze’-size final reel rug-pull, Mihaljevic certainly shows a brazen confidence in how he plays out his narrative, in a move that adds further depth and dimension to his leading lady’s performance. The other key contributors are DOP Shane Piggott, whose emotive use of bold colour and sodden blackness is exquisite, and Australian acting legend Angela Punch McGregor, a towering presence in an all-too-rare big screen role.

CHRISSY JUDY

Stars: Todd Flaherty, Wyatt Fenner, Joey Taranto, Kiyon Spencer, James Tison, Nicole Spiezio, João Pedro Santos and Olivia Oguma.
Writer/Director: Todd Flaherty.

Rating: ★ ★ ★ ★

A drag performer faces an uncertain future on all existential fronts in Todd Flaherty’s endearing comedy/drama, Chrissy Judy. A major achievement for the multi-hyphenate, who not only gives a charming, star-making lead turn but also wrote, directed and edited this bittersweet slice of gay modern life, this 2022 festival favourite is a big-hearted examination of friendship and community wrapped in a classic show business narrative.

A dashing screen presence, Flaherty plays ‘Judy’, one half of the performance duo ‘Chrissy Judy’, a drag act that once held promise but has been floundering as gigs grow smaller and audiences less appreciative. Wyatt Fenner matches Flaherty’s charisma as ‘Chrissy’, now nearing thirty and increasingly focussed on emotional and financial stability over stardom-chasing pipedreams. 

Once inseparable as friends, Chrissy and Judy are drifting apart; at a Fyre Island beach house with their committed friends, the strain that different life directions is taking on their bond begins to show. Soon, Chrissy departs to start a new life in Philadelphia with his on-off partner Shawn (Kiyon Spencer), leaving Judy on his downward professional spiral and struggling to fill the void left in his emotional fabric by Chrissy’s absence.

Flaherty sets his film up as a classic New York City romance; the stunning black & white lensing by Brendan Flaherty invokes the spirit of Woody Allen’s Manhattan and, for younger auds, Noah Baumbach’s Frances Ha. It is a mood that keeps Judy’s (or James, revealed in a moment of tenderness) journey buoyant, but shaded in dark greys; he reconnects with past acquaintances and instigates doomed flings to try to find new meaning in life, only for the emptiness to become more and more apparent.

The fulfilling tenderness of the gay lifestyle, or the showbiz community, or the family unit are all explored in Flaherty’s effortlessly affecting script, but it is ultimately Judy’s re-evaluating of what defines him as a human that drives Chrissy Judy. LGBTIQA+ audiences will appreciate the knowing nods to the gay-specific life (including some occasionally frank language and sexual content), but Judy/James’ story is a universally recognisable one, and told with a degree of intelligence and empathy that is rare.

AVARICE

Stars: Gillian Alexy, Luke Ford, Nick Atkinson, Ryan Panizza, Alexandra Nell, Alexander Fleri, Tom O’Sullivan, Campbell Greenock, Priscilla-Anne Jacob and Téa Heathcote-Marks.
Writers: Adam Enslow , Dane Millerd, Andrew Slattery and John V. Soto.
Director: John V. Soto

Rating: ★ ★ ★

A rocky marriage finds some stabilising shared goals when faced with a brutal home invasion plot in John V. Soto’s slick, enjoyably compelling action/thriller, Avarice. The latest punchy piece of exportable genre entertainment from the Perth-based director delivers on the promise of his pics to date (The Gateway, 2018; The Reckoning, 2014; Needle, 2010); films that don’t reinvent the wheel but that do spin it with skill and energy.

A terrific Gillian Alexy stars as Kate, a top-tier archer with eyes on competition glory but who is also struggling to keep her marriage together. Similarly work focussed, her partner Ash (Luke Ford) is finding himself increasingly sidelined as Kate focusses on athletic goals, a disconnect that teen daughter Sarah (Téa Heathcote-Marks) is beginning to rebel against. Husband and wife decide that a weekend in their upmarket bushland retreat will perhaps positively refocus the family dynamic.

That begins to seem unlikely as a group of elite mercenaries seize control of the home with eyes on Ash’s hefty bank balance. Developments get very Die Hard-y, with Ash umming-and-ahhing about the codes that will complete the transfer, while Kate dons her trusty bow-and-arrow and begins whittling down the invader’s numbers. There are further twists in the narrative’s third act that will placate fans of the single-setting thriller, with Soto also channelling such influences as David Fincher’s Panic Room (2002) and Luis Mandoki’s underseen thriller Trapped (2002), with Charlize Theron.

The bad guys/girl ensemble are an attractively mean-spirited bunch, with Alexandra Nell and Ryan Panizza in particular upping the stakes through their snarling menace alone. Web nerds may get a bit giggly over the apparent ease with which a multi-million dollar account is accessed, but it isn't the first thriller to cut tech corners. The moments that Soto and his pro team of contributors make work - solid character acting, pacy action moments and arrow-on-antagonist payback - make Avarice another mid-budget milestone for the filmmaker.

THE COST

Stars: Jordan Fraser-Trumble, Damon Hunter, Kevin Dee, Clayton Watson and Nicole Pastor.
Writers: Matthew Holmes and Gregory Moss.
Director: Matthew Holmes.

Rating: ★ ★ ★ ½

Reviewed at Monster Fest Sydney on Saturday December 10 at Event Cinemas George Street.

Two men grieving the loss of their beloved wife/sister at the hands of murdering rapist decide to unleash their own brand of vengeance in director Matthew Holmes’ morally problematic dramatic thriller, The Cost. This superbly acted, compellingly staged study in vigilante psychology will be too grey-shaded for some, who may interpret the narrative trajectory as a pro-argument for personal justice; others, with an ‘eye for an eye’ perspective on criminal punishment, will lap up scenes of brutal payback.

Widower David (Jordan Fraser-Trumble; top, right) and sibling Aaron (Damon Hunter; top, centre) have planned with premeditated cunning the abduction of sad loner Troy (Kevin Dee). Seizing him late one night, the steely-eyed kidnappers head deep into the Australian bush, where they make their motivations and intentions clear - the 10 years that Troy served for the sexual assault and killing of Stephanie (Nicole Pastor, in flashback; below) is nowhere near sufficient retribution for his coldhearted homicidal impulses.

Early indications that Holmes’ follow-up to his bushranger hagiography The Legend of Ben Hall will be little more than Oz torture-porn dissipate as skilfully layered back story is revealed. Developments that will have the more thoughtful genre audience pondering address the role that sentencing and non-parole periods play in meeting survivor expectations; the ages-old ‘let the punishment fit the crime’ argument; and what, if anything, stops the vigilante becoming the same horribly myopic killer that he deems unworthy for life.

It is the ‘He’ in that last sentence that most resonates. David and Aaron are two middle-class white males, a social status that comes with an ingrained sense of entitlement (search ‘vigilante films’, and you mostly see actors like Clint Eastwood, Kevin Sorbo, Tom Berenger, Jim Belushi, Steven Seagal, Bruce Willis, Nicholas Cage and Mel Gibson). Holmes and co-writer Gregory Moss construct protagonists that willingly accept the righteousness in acting above the judicial structure (Troy has been caught, prosecuted and sentenced fully in the eyes of our legal system). This imbues their ‘justice for Stephanie’ renegade with a false logic and own dangerous mental instability. 

The ‘vigilante anti-hero’ sub-genre that allows for unlawful punishment to seem justified works best in a lawless setting, be that literally (Mad Max, 1979; The Star Chamber, 1983) or figuratively (Taxi Driver, 1976; Munich, 2005). There’s a great deal of integrity and complexity in The Cost, but also a healthy dose of genre DNA that aligns it with the ugliness of Charles Bronson’s blackhearted Death Wish films. It will be in the post-screening discussions and what it exposes in those who seek it out that the real value of the film will emerge.

THE HAUNTING OF THE MURDER HOUSE

Stars: Kellan Rudnicki, Tyler Miller, Sarah Tyson, Dylane DeVane, Walter Braithwaite and Brent Downs.
Writers: Brendan Rudnicki and Kellan Rudnicki
Director: Brendan Rudnicki

Rating: ★ ★ ½

From the SEO-friendly title (which sounds like a Simpsons Halloween episode) to its outfitting of a supportive relative’s home as its key location, The Rudnicki Brother’s no-budget mash-up of found-footage tropes and slasher beats is made for the scroll-friendly depths of Roku or Tubi, those modern streaming equivalents of the weekly VHS rental shelf. And like the cheesy, underlit splatterfests that dwelled on those shelves of yore, The Haunting of the Murder House will provide giggles, gasps and groans in equal measure.

The hosts of YouTube paranormal show ‘The Otherside’, Harper (Sarah Tyson) and Kai (Tyler Miller) find their online popularity on the decline. So, with reluctant cameraman Kel (Kellan Rudnicki) along for the ride, they decide to live-stream an 8-hour lock-in at the site of a legendarily brutal crime, during which a grotesquely-masked killer clown (here we go…) slashed and stabbed his way to infamy. Now, with OB-van tech Dylan (Dylan DeVane) calling the shots, the three settle in for a night of jump scares and swearing at each other.

(A quick aside - if you get a sense of deja vu from that synopsis, you may have seen The Rudnicki’s 2019 opus, The Murder at the Suicide House, in which three ghost-hunting YouTubers spend a night at the titular estate to get the material they need to boost the popularity of their channel.)

No haunted house cliche is left unturned, with ouija boards, hidden rooms, salted pentagrams, demonic possession and night-vision cameras all getting raked over the cinematic coals. Most effectively utilised, of course, is the image and presence of ol’ bloodthirsty Bozo himself; his introduction, in which he faces off against an increasingly jittery cop (Brent Downs), is legitimately scary. A combination of flashy lighting and a punchy score makes the clown’s first reveal to the YouTubers a genuinely chilling few moments. Also shocking are the occasional leaps from shadowy atmospherics to giallo-esque gore.

And that’s the take-away after 80 minutes of The Haunting at the Murder House - much of it actually works. There will be snarky web-critics who want to tear it down (some sketchy acting and loopy plotting give them an in), but for a calling card film that indicates the creatives have a handle on filmmaking technique and storytelling craft, it is a win for the Rudnicki siblings. Their production outfit DBS Films is favouring quantity over quality at this stage (they’ve banked seven low-budgeters since 2019), but one senses there will be a time soon when that equation balances out.

ONE WAY

Stars: Colson Baker, Storm Reid, Drea de Matteo, Travis Fimmel, Rhys Coiro, Meagan Holder,  Luis Da Silva Jr., Thomas Francis Murphy, K.D. O'Hair and Kevin Bacon.
Writer: Ben Conway
Director: Andrew Baird

Rating: ★ ★ ★ ½

The school bus drivers of my youth would have wrapped up Andrew Baird’s backseat potboiler One Way in about five minutes, so demanding were they of good behaviour. There was no tolerance for bags of coke, cash, handguns or bleeding-out petty crims on the Carlingford-Epping Hillsbus #549. Fortunately, for audiences who appreciate a well-structured and atmospheric crime thriller, the Sunways coachline team let a lot unravel on this late night run.

Fleeing a bold and bloody drug/cash heist is mid-level street hood Freddy, played by Colson Baker. Those of a certain age know the star as white rapper/red-carpet staple Machine Gun Kelly, aka MGK, but here he is donning his ‘serious actor’ persona. And he’s very good, conveying first the pain of a gut-shot wound and then existential angst as he realises he needs to get things in order with his ex, ER nurse Christine (Meghan Holder) and estranged daughter (Colson’s real-life tyke, Casie Baker) before the inevitable happens (not really a spoiler, as it’s right there in the title).

Trying to navigate his way out of trouble and into Christine’s care from a bus seat, Freddy befriends teen runaway Rachel (a terrific Storm Reid) while coping with the occasional pain-related hallucination. Also on board is Travis Fimmel’s social worker Phil (“You don’t look like a social worker,” notes Freddy, presciently) and, as the aforementioned bus driver who only has eyes for the road ahead, Thomas Francis Murphy. As the Puerto Rican crime boss hunting down our anti-hero, Drea de Matteo deliver ice-cold villainy well; as Freddy’s scumbag father, whose rare blood type may be all that can save his desperate son, Kevin Bacon brings that capital-H ‘Hollywood’ presence to some nasty moments.

Freddy carries two mobiles (including a ‘burner’, which I’ve learned is a thing today), which means One Way is a film in which a lot of time is spent watching actors reacting to phone screens and not other actors; it is usually something I cringe at, but Baird, DOP Tobia Sempi and editor John Walters keep the interactions lively. It is also likely the project was bound by pandemic protocols, adding immeasurably to the credit due the production unit for pulling off such a convincing confined-space dramatic conceit.

The Irish director’s first mainland U.S.A. shoot is steeped in the rain-soaked, neon-bathed lore of ‘70’s American crime-noir thrillers; it is not too hard to envision a version of One Way with Walter Hill calling the shots and a cast boasting the likes of Bruce Dern and Warren Oates. Baird leans into some modern flourishes that Hill and his hard-edged contemporaries would have baulked at (lens flare, slow-motion, strong female characters), but it is nevertheless a sturdy work and confirms the filmmaker is a talent to watch.

ARIEL PHENOMENON

This content was originally published on the Sydney Science Fiction Film Festival website.

Featuring: Dr. John E. Mack. Tim Leach, Emily Trim, Emma Kristiansen, Takudza Shawa, Nathaniel Coxall, Salma Siddick, Luke Neil, Robert Metcalf, Lisl Field, Lady Hwacha, Gunter Hofer and Cynthia Hind.
Writers: Christopher Seward and Randall Nickerson.
Director: Randall Nickerson.

Available to rent at the official Ariel Phenomenon website.  

Rating: ★ ★ ★ ★

The most compelling case of extra-terrestrial interaction in recorded history is examined from an understated and deeply moving perspective in the investigative documentary feature, Ariel Phenomenon. By revisiting a fateful event that occured 28 years ago on the grounds of a Zimbabwean primary school, director Randall Nickerson not only re-examines with an acute sensitivity the most famous close encounter of the third kind of all time but also the impact on the lives and minds of those who were there.

On September 16 1994, the students of the Ariel School on the outskirts of the Ruwa township were witness to the arrival of an unidentifiable aircraft from which, it is claimed, humanoid beings emerged. Dozens of children aged between six and twelve witnessed associated phenomena in broad daylight - the descent and landing of the silver, saucer-and-dome shaped craft; intense displays of light and a deep humming noise; and, most astonishingly, the appearance and stealth abilities of the craft’s occupants.

Nickerson and co-writer Christopher Seward have exhaustingly compiled (and, given the excellent quality of the archival video content, likely remastered) the news footage of the incident, notably the work of BBC war correspondent, the late Tim Leach. The integrity and honesty of the young people who were present at the event is left in no doubt, and the production ensures their recollections are granted the respect that most figures in authority did not afford them at the time.

The key figure in the film’s narrative is Emily Trim, a middle-schooler at Ariel at the time of the encounter and now an adult struggling with the memories and emotions it conjures in her. Trim returns to Zimbabwe from her Canadian base, where she reconnects with teachers and fellow students and her catharsis is warmly defined and tracked through to its uplifting conclusion.

But the confusion and sense of abandonment that she and her childhood friends experienced whenever they expressed their realities of that day has scarred them. One experiencer reveals to the camera that after all these years, she has still not told her husband of her Ariel encounter; some are speaking out for the first time in decades for Nickerson’s cameras. In its depiction of how the events of September 16 unfolded, Ariel Phenomenon segues into a potent study of how corrosive to one’s spirit the denial of truth can be.

It is a theme carried over into those that tried to show their support for the Ariel kids. Leach saw his standing within the hallowed halls of ‘The Beeb’ deteriorate as he took his account of the visitation to the highest levels to get it told. The other key figure in the documentary is Pulitzer Prize-winning author, Dr John E. Mack, the Harvard academic who interviewed the schoolchildren and openly declared that their version of events were to be believed. Despite his credentials, Mack would become persona non grata amongst the tenured professors when his case studies in alien abduction and its associated psychology got swept into pop culture status and the university discredited him publicly.

In a media landscape where dime-a-dozen ‘Are we alone?’-type pseudo-docos litter the streaming channels, Ariel Phenomenon appears positively barebones in its frank presentation of evidence and emotions. Nickerson forgoes such B-grade standards as ominous narration or laptop CGI, instead relying upon the memories and voices of those who were there. 

Having crowdfunded the project and undertaken to self distribute his film, Randall Nickerson has fought the long battle to bring the story of the Ariel kids-turned-adults to the screen, and his investment in the truth of both their experience and subsequent struggles is profound. Its thrilling retelling of a complex sociological event aside, the finest achievement of Ariel Phenomenon is the platform that it provides those burdened by a truth kept secret to recount openly the moments that changed their lives forever.