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…is still going through my mind.  The lyrics to “Bodies“  by Drowning Pool was both the theme song and mantra in which programmer Michael Hein would lead us prior to each screening at the New York City Independent Horror Festival which, incidentally, was a total blast this past weekend. 

Death in Charge had a fabulous screening on Friday night.  Projection and sound were excellent (thanks, Michael!)  and folks were actually turned away the theater was so packed.  The crowd was great – lots of laughter and gasps and we played amid a fun block of shorts, including  Wheels of Death by new filmmaker friends Rob and Edward Kennedy and Andrew Mahon out from Ireland and Voltaire’s stunning  X-Mess Detritus of which I never tire.  After, we packed into the bar for a fun after-party that lasted into the wee hours of the morning.

I had planned to catch Revenant which screened after our block and about which I’ve heard many good things, but the party was simply too fun to leave, alas.  I got to catch up with  Michael Gingold, a past fest buddy who’s also a filmmaker and editing manager of Fangoria (and who also made a fun appearance in Sweatshop in which he finally gets to play a character who doesn’t die which made him so happy).  Incidentally, I owe an apology to director and super nice, totally masculine guy Stacy Davidson, whom I’d assumed from his name was a female in my last blog post – d’oh!  I of all people should know better than to make such assumptions given that it happens to me all the time, too.  So  sorry, Stacy!  Filmmaker friend Jane Rose (who also participated in I Spit on Eli Roth), and a bunch of friends new and old from the fest circuit added to the lively reunion.  I’m so excited to now possess my own copy of new friend and neighbor Nathan Cox’s  The Resurrection of Officer Rollins and had a blast chatting film with new friend Marla Newborn, whose fun coverage of the Coney Island Film Fest for Fangoria I had read prior to my trip.  Apparently the screening there was a big success as well – ah, too many fests too little time (and far too little  money to partake of them all – sigh.)

Voltaire brought his utterly charming and super-bright son Mars along who enlightened me as to the best graphic-novel-to-movie adaptations  I must see as well as shared his thoughts on Kubrick’s oeuvre- damn!   At age 12 he’s already making movies among other artistic endeavors and promises to send me his latest film as soon as his friend gives it back to him (let this be a lesson to all directors – don’t leave your only copy of your film in the hands of careless schoolmates!).  Voltaire credits Mars’ brilliance to being “raised on horror” – nice!  I gave Mars my card and told him to call me in 20 years.  Suddenly being a cougar doesn’t seem nearly so distasteful as I once thought…

Ryan and the the Alabama boys discovered the Ghostbusters firehouse a few blocks away which set us all off quoting fave lines and a pact to all take action photos in front of it the following night.  The rest of the evening, and well into the wee hours of the morning, was a celebration of all things cinematic – a truly fun bunch of people who had great things to say about film, fests and life in general.  This was definitely one of those “breakfast club” fest experiences – the perfect storm of fun, talented and super cool people gathered at once.

Not too surprisingly, however, by Saturday everybody was quite a bit worse for wear, though still smiling in our groggy haze.  We caught Orlok the Vampire in 3-D at last (I’d missed it at the Bram Stoker Film Festival also for having too much fun at an after-party – an increasingly growing phenomenon apparently) which was a truly interesting experiment.  Not only did director Keith Carter add the 3-D component to F.W. Murnau’s ’s Nosferatu, but he added sound design and changed some of the title cards including one at the end that got the biggest laugh of all, proclaiming the events were “tragic, but logical.” It was preceded by several intriguing Spanish language  shorts including Gigi Romero’s Together (awesome director chick from Venezuela who now resides in Spain – both places I’ve enjoyed living, so we had much to discuss) and Jacobo Concepcion-Cardona’s Teatro, another mind-bending trippy horror that had a Dario Argento-esque feel.  One of my faves of the fest was Kody Zimmerman’s The Familiar which would be an awesome pilot to a TV dramedy series that I would totally watch about the evolution of a vampire hunter. Check it out if you can find it.

After an afternoon of screenings, Agustin and I revisited a super amazing tapas bar right by the theater called Flor de Sol where the charismatic bartenders inspired an idea for a new crime-fighting duo series.  Check out their photo – am I right? This place rocks and has great happy hour prices – amazing tapas and pitchers of sangria.  We dined on octopus, squid, and even some non-Lovecraftian delicacies.  Delish!

Properly sangria-fied, we joined the others at the Tribeca Theater bar where I met the makers of Night of the Living Heads, another stoner horror comedy (but with zombies of course) and we’re talking about joining forces in our marketing strategies – fun!

The main event was a screening of Maniac, with q&a by director William Lustig himself.  It was fun, but everybody was wiped.  We partied some more in the bar, but it was soon clear that our Ghostbusters photo event was not destined to be.  Sigh.  I have but a few regrets from this weekend.  The photo opp was the first.  I also never got around to having a proper bagel or a reuben as only NYC can deliver (don’t even try it in L.A. – you’re just setting yourself up for disappointment).  And sadly, I had to return to the land of sepia-tinted air mid-afternoon Sunday thus missing more screenings, a promising sounding filmmaker brunch and awards night and afterparty.  Still, isn’t it best to leave wanting more?  If so, it was a super successful ending to a super successful weekend.

Sunday morning Agustin and I distributed some postcards and I got a new steam-punky winter hat and gloves  (for my upcoming trip to Anchorage!) before heading to JFK.   Fortunately, it was a great flight back and I met David, this cool surfer dude who sat a seat away from me (empty middle seat between us providing actual leg room – yay!) We lamented how people never clap anymore when the plane lands so we did our best to reinstate this long lost tradition.  Nobody joined us, but somehow it just felt right to applaud at the end of such a  weekend.  It sounds like he’d had a similarly fun one.  I suppose it’s hard not to have fun in NYC.  Thanks to the amazing group of talented and super-cool people I met and/or reconnected with this weekend.   Thanks most of all to Michael and the fabulous staff at the fest – you really put on a great show:  packed, enthused audiences, rowdy fun horror films and an awesome venue in which to celebrate them all.  It’s no wonder you attract such marvelous people – you guys so rock!  I am truly inspired yet again, ready to get back to work.  There’s so much writing to do.  But first this body’s gotta hit the bed or it really is likely to hit the floor.