Fantasia Fest 2020: ‘Born of Woman’ shorts carve out distinct voices in horror

Women are killing the game with some of the year’s best horror films. Much like Etheria Film Festival, which swerved to Shudder in light of the ongoing pandemic, Fantasia Fest dishes up a nine-film block of shorts called Born of Woman. Ranging from under 10 minutes to a hearty 30, the lineup zig-zags from pointed social centerpieces to the joyfully gruesome, and everything in between. Horror desperately needs more women behind of and in front of the camera lens with stories that have true heart and distinctive perspectives.

Below, B-Sides & Badlands corrals all nine films with capsule-sized reviews for your consumption. Have a bite!

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Come Fuck My Robot (directed by Mercedes Bryce Morgan)

Inspired by a very real Craigslist ad, in which “an engineer” claimed to have “built an AI with a vagina,” Morgan pulls the viewer into your average day to be a woman. When a young man responds to the ad, hoping to lose his virginity before going off to college, he meets the sex robot’s sweaty, totally creepy creator and soon learns that it’s not exactly what he thinks. The script leans heavily into addressing rape culture, sex-crazed misogyny, and a woman’s right to control the narrative. Morgan’s storytelling is razor-sharp, layering in just a pinch of humor to alleviate the tension, and it’s a real treat.

Blocks (directed by Bridget Moloney)

Even if you don’t have kids, Bridget Moloney conceptualizes stress of motherhood and desperation for even a moment’s peace in a fantastically unnerving way. When a young woman, first seen tidying up the house, doing laundry, and keeping her two kids clean, begins vomiting up literal Lego blocks, you’re never quite sure if it’s a body-horror terrifier or a psychological delusion. Moloney plays (pun intended) in both worlds to deliver a thoughtful festival gem.

Break Us (directed by Rioghnach Ni Ghrioghair)

A crime thriller by default, Break Us follows a young couple seeking a thrill in robbing a nearby bank. Ghrioghair engages with the relationship’s tattered edges, set with an initial scene in which the man reveals a hostage sexual fantasy, much to the woman’s disgust, and the unexpectedly high emotional stakes. When things inevitably go down inside, the story doesn’t go where you anticipate it’ll go ⏤ as it gives the woman even more agency over her own life and decisions, as warped they might be.

Snowflakes (directed by Faye Jackson)

Set within an immigration removal center, Faye Jackson’s story unravels with startling anxiety, embracing real life horror as her thematic base. She digs up the often overlooked humanity of two immigrant women whose lives are thrown into total ruin by systemic racism and immigration procedures that are long outdated and, truth be told, absolutely gross. What makes Snowflake so memorable is Jackson’s ability to make the viewer (anyone with a heart, really) care. The unexpected twist layers on even thicker meanings, and the short might not totally stick the landing in the end ⏤ yet it is powerful nonetheless.

Diabla (directed by Ashley George)

It’s rare to get a rape-revenge exploitation film that is so damn satisfying. Diabla manages to take both the uncomfortable brutality and utterly gratifying reckoning of I Spit on Your Grave and fuse into an artful story of empowerment. A young woman named Nayeli sparks up a connection with the trouble-making outsider Rayan, much to the side-eye of her family. Late one night, Rayan lets her try on his newly-swiped Gucci sunglasses, and they share a few laughs. But it all quickly unravels. After the rape, Nayeli can’t find any comfort or support; it’s only after a doctor’s appointment that revenge enters into the equation. George crafts a harrowing story that ultimately leads to one of the best conclusions of any film this year.

The Rougarou (directed by Lorraine Caffery)

A young girl’s father has just returned from prison, so they have plenty of catching up to do. It is intially unclear what crime(s) he’s commited, but the exterior slowly peels away when his former gang members show up to his house. Past violence springs alive again from the film’s dark corners, fueling a deep dread. Late one night, he tells his daughter a gnarly tale about a nighttime creature that once attacked him, resulting in a series of scars down his back. Was it a living, breathing monster? Or is it the manifestation of uncontrollable rage? The short’s underlying message is far more effective than its execution; although the ending is undeniably shocking.

Narrow (directed by Anna Chazelle)

Taking a page out of A Quiet Place, Narrow is set amidst a post-apocalyptic world. A young woman is making her way through a deserted countryside, along a very narrow strip of what appears to be grey sand, and soon arrives upon a derelict cabin. Inside, she follows the trail into the kitchen, and it becomes clear she’s scavanging for food. She spies a can of green beans and attempts to lasso the parcel with a knotted rope. She fails, slipping on the sand and causing a calamity. Breath heavy, she stops in her tracks, and the tension hangs thick in the air. The viewer is never clued into what has happened, frustratingly so. The woman then makes her way back the way she came and is approached by a man, perhaps an old lover, who may or may not be dead. Narrow is high on concept, a world-builder that needs way more time to soak.

F for Freaks (directed by Sabine Ehrl)

F for Freaks has the longest runtime, and for good reason. It’s 30 minutes of a hellish, bizarro world in which people with severe, debilitating ailments hunt small men and women to harvest their organs. In the vein of American Horror Story: Freak Show, the “freaks” aren’t freaks at all, representing marginalized individuals whose very identities are exploitated by the rest of the world. The film follows an older woman clearly suffering, and she is picked up by three other callous individuals, who take her out into the woods to find a small person to be her guinea pig. Ehrl’s story unwraps with startling grittiness, and her vision is a surefire festival treasure.

They Salivate (directed by Ariane Boukerche)

Bodily fluids as the basis for any story will always guarantee a truly disgusting setpiece. They Salivate is an intriguing short, featuring minimalistic dialogue and heavy movement sequences. Boukerche builds a stunning, artsy world around carnal desires that seem to transport through one man’s saliva. It’s gross, yes, with countless moments that may or may not make the viewer wanna hurl. But within such a Dario Argento-inspired landscape, Boukerche cultivates a movement-based piece that has its own kind of razzle-dazzle.

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