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Review by Karis King
The Final Girls is a film collective based in London, exploring the link between feminism and the horror genre, and celebrating female film talent – both behind and in front of the camera. Their latest event, We Are The Weirdos, offers ten carefully selected short films by emerging female filmmakers – and a brilliant selection it is indeed. No two films are the same: stylistically, we see everything from 1980s-style horror, to documentary, to the downright bizarre. In this review, I will discuss a few of my favourites of the ten films, but they were all credit-worthy in their own way, and if you ever you get the chance to see We Are The Weirdos, I wholeheartedly recommend you go for it!
Undress Me was excellent, as it was more meaning-driven which is personally what I seek in a film. To me, this film depicts the inevitable struggle of young, and inexperienced, straight women. Paranoia sets in and our protagonist questions herself, wondering if she is good enough. After a one-night stand at a frat party, her thoughts eat away at her, and we witness this in her symbolic physical deterioration. I would warn other potential viewers, however, that the film does have connotations of self-harm.
The third film, I Should Have Run, was most likely my favourite of the ten. It is a student film made on a budget of just £200, but this does not take away from its brilliance. The poetic narration, combined with the imagery of the protagonist being dragged into a mysterious black cavern left me choked up; my chest was tight as it became blatantly obvious that the film was about rape. However, since the film had such an impact on me, I did think that a warning could have been issued at the talk before the screening.
A Mother of Monsters was by far the most cinematically impressive. A young girl, allured by a circus troupe, is in danger; it is possible that a kidnapping for a dreadful intent occurs. The sound design is fantastic, and works hand in hand with the mise-en-scene to set the atmosphere. The short begins slowly with traditional circus music, but quickly escalates to a frenzied series of shots, with music to match – disorientating the viewer in an intelligent way. Whilst it was the only film that did not include dialogue, it was one of the most engaging.
Dead. Tissue. Love is an experimental documentary exploring the individual character of a female necrophile, who hides her sexuality from a society that demonises her. Whilst, visually, the film was quite bare, its still images of beautiful scenery – combined with the narrator’s soothing voice – created a strange, yet calm, atmosphere. The content was eye-opening, although it was clear that some viewers found it unsettling, which only proved the point of the film. I, however, like to see films break taboos, and it was interesting to learn about necrophilia from a young, female perspective, as I think stereotypically, necrophiles are perverted, old men. Dead. Tissue. Love shows that this is not the case, and sheds a lot of light on a poorly understood topic, and for that, I can only applaud it.