The image of a goblin giving a man the best blow-job of his life is something that I will fight to repress during every sexual encounter for the rest of my time on earth, and I have Boston Hassle’s: Persistence of Vision to thank. This past Friday at Make Shift Boston was the second installment of our new ongoing independent and experimental evening film series. The cost of admission helps to raise funds for the non-profit organization as we continue to search for an affordable space to act as a home-base for all-ages shows in the Boston area, programs, board meetings, and a safe place to create and collaborate.
The event was a relaxed opportunity to appreciate the dark comedy/sci-fi/midnight grosscore works of Brian Lonano. The night opened with local music by Boston’s own Solei, whose dreamy soundscapes made with loops, bass vocals, and noise instilled a false sense of calm, intimacy, and general okayness, with the idea of existing before our world was turned upside down ten fold by ten short films.
The night featured a program Lonano’s complete filmography to date including: #BUFF15 (2015), CROW HAND!!! (2014), Welcome To Dignity Pastures (2013), Martian Precursor (2010), 8bit Ghost Hop (2010), The Transmission (2012), ATTACKAZOIDS, DEPLOY!! (2009), ATTACKAZOIDS! (2008), Bacchus Attack Us (Boston Underground Film Festival Bumper) (2011), culminating in his most recent film, a 2016 festival-favorite: Gwilliam. Gwilliam’s concept is based on an unintentionally ugly creature doodled by Lonano’s brother that was meant to be the likeness of a child’s photograph. The creation of a 3D Gwilliam was inspired by the believably realistic synthetic puppets popularized by Jim Henson’s Labyrinth. The film’s execution was accomplished by a small budget accrued by donation via crowdfunder. For his tenth short, Lonano set out with the hope of creating a short film that you can never unsee, and it shows, in a most visceral way.
The short centered around an ex-con (William Tokarsky, best known as the serial killer in Adult Swim’s viral hit “Too Many Cooks”) who follows a tip from his former cell-mate, and heads to a local dive bar upon his release from prison, looking for a good time. He ventures into a back alley and is stunned still when a knee-high fleshy creature barrels out from a pile of garbage and begins blowing him while chiding seductively in a satanic yet cartoonish voice: “This is what you wanted.” This led to one of the most gratuitous and nauseating carnal sex-scenes I have ever witnessed (and was still met with captivated viewers).
With that in mind, the best way to see Lonano’s films are with an audience. If it weren’t for a room full of people reacting simultaneously, with the option to search the crowd for equally horrified glances to remind myself I’m not enduring it alone, I might have spent the remainder of my waking life in the shower and never felt clean. It’s hard to imagine a more solidifying bonding experience than trading a knowing look with a fellow viewer while a goblin fellates an old man, and then watching in amused disbelief when said man lays in his hotel bed gently tracing his face with his fingers lost in thought, and finally dials the phone number that was given to him by Gwilliam at the end of their bestial exchange.
Lonano’s unique ability to disturb and disgust on such a primal level while maintaining an air of creepy pseudo-sweetness kept the audience moving from knee-jerk, appalled exclamations of “NO WAY”, to peppered expletives, and genuine laughter throughout the 6 minute film. Consequently, the effectively offensive yet nearly likeable nature of the grossest love story ever has me oddly rooting for the unlikely couple. In interviews, Lonano has alluded to plans of expanding Gwilliam into a feature film, with the short acting as a preface to introduce an elaborated tryst between the man and goblin, which would be a true test of any stomach’s endurance; my body is ready.
– Kippy Shrimp
