The FanTasia film festival has been terrorizing Montreal for ten years now, bringing the widest selection of Genre Cinema to the masses. It’s where films are sold, directors are noticed, and where Dimension Films goes to fill their sacks full of obscure foregin films, sitting on them for years, waiting for their own remakes to take off before even bothering to release the originals. As mentioned on the back of the DVD case, this is the film festival where Hideto Nakata’s Ringu was introduced to the west. This is where Nacho Cerda gained infamy with his own fetishistic films. And, like it or not, FanTasia was the first festival in North America to show a film by cinema terrorist Takashi Miike.

To commemorate the festival’s 10th anniversary, FanTasia film festival, along with Synapse Films, have teamed together to release Small Gauge Trauma, a collection of 13 short films spanning 8 different countries and 10 years of FanTasia programming. And while these short films can definitely be seen as the work of talented people, most of what can be found on the disc has a been-there-done-that feeling at best, or it’s painfully derivative at worst. But then again, just because a film is a retread of stale themes, it doesn’t mean they can’t be presented in an interesting manner.

Since I get cranky just summarizing every short little film on compilation discs, let’s just get down to the basics and point out the good and bad of the set:

Kick-starting the disc with a provocative bang, Abuelitos (Grandfathers, directed by Paco Plaza) is a visually stunning film set in a resting home for the corroding elderly who spend their time being washed in goo, biding their time in silence and waiting for anyone to come visit them. Bathed in sickly green fluorescent lighting, its atmosphere saves it from being just a typical vampiric elderly-feeding-on-the-young story and elevates it to an eerie, ambiguous beauty.

Oddly emotional, though resembling one of those creepy old videos where the band Tool recounts an old Mr. Show sketch, The Separation (directed by Robert Morgan) is a stop-motion animated film about Siamese twins separated at childhood. Years pass, and the two work together in a doll factory, one adapting to his individual position in life, while the other spends his time sewing dolls together and longing for a connection. Understanding each other’s emotional need, the two create a giant sewing machine. Unfortunate shenanigans happen.

My personal favorite of the disc, and one of the three reasons that this DVD is a definite must-have for genre enthusiasts, is the seven-minute Tea Break (directed by Sam Walker), which manages to distill the ultra violent grindhouse revival to its very essence by simply featuring a man on an assembly line perfunctorily decapitating a collection of naked, bound and gagged strangers who roll out on the belt without rhyme or reason. The droll repetition gets more and more humorous as wave after wave of naked victim is blandly dispatched at the hands of an apathetic man wielding a rather large paper cutter. I won’t spoil the ending for you, but it does involve a tea break.

While those three are the definite must-haves of the collection, there are many other short films that are absolutely worth checking out; Chambre Jaune (Yellow Room, directed by Helene Cattel and Bruno Forzani) is a fragmented tribute to the Italian Giallo genre, especially Dario Argento at his most sexual, which finds a man in  black leather gloves pleasuring and torturing his victim with a straight razor.

The Brazilian Amor Só De Mãe (Love From Mother Only, directed by Dennison Ramalho) is not only a gorgeous looking flick, but its use of Macumba voodoo (the film concerns a man in love with a woman possessed, who demands the heart of the man’s dying mother) imagery is quite startling – especially considering the film was scripted by an actual Voodoo Priest who is now behind bars.

At only five minutes, Sister Lulu (directed by Philip John) is a black and white nunsploitation film told in flashback by a woman from the grave, while the shortest film on the disc (clocking in at 23 seconds), Miss Greeny either taps into the maternal fear of ruining a child despite having only the best intentions, or it just makes no sense and I’m overanalyzing it.

Other films include the Argentinean madness of Gorgonas (Gorgons, directed by Salvador Sanz), the Canadian death-fever-dream Infini (Infinity, directed by Guillaume Fortin), and the drug-filled Spanish insanity of Ruta Destroy! (directed by Diego Abad), which feels out-of-place on the collection, but still manages to impress. The longest film on the disc, the 39-minute L’ilya (directed by Tomoya Sato), is a Japanese horror film about death as postmodern art, which is an interesting concept side-stepped by those traditional Japanese horror conceits.

Though not every film on Small Gauge Trauma is a winner, and while I already know I’ll be in the minority on this one, I’ll See You In My Dreams (Directed by Miguel Ángel Vivas) is certainly an utterly flawed technical marvel. It’s shot in beautiful scope, the cinematography is gorgeous and the pacing is excellent, but I’ll See You In My Dreams is painfully derivative of every zombie film you’ve ever seen, every zombie film you’ve never seen, and every zombie film that will ever be made. I don’t even have to tell you what it’s about; you’ve already seen it. I wholly respect I'll See You In My Dreams as an achievement in short filmmaking, but on a personal level, it made me mad. Fightin’ mad.

Finally, leaving me quite cold (though it doesn’t close the disc) is Flat-N-Fluffy. Resembling a vintage ‘70s ‘toon, the idea of animation (seen as something sickly sweet and for children) contrasting with adult subjects (drugs, violence) is a dead horse that has been beaten one too many times. But it’s also so over-the-top, it almost feels like an ironic, though confused parody of the counter-culture movement. Either way, gunning down a cute dog leaves me feeling empty inside. Flat-N-Fluffy is a misfire.

We’re done with the movies, right? Good. Moving on…

Presentation
Compilation discs usually aren’t very impressive, most of the time it’s just a bunch of short films slapped together without any concern for audio or video quality. But Synapse Films manages to deliver consistent quality with this disc, presenting each film in their original aspect ratios, and with anamorphic transfers (except Ruta Destroy!, which is non-anamorphic without explanation) when appropriate. Although, due to the varying ages of each movie, film stock and technology, it’s a general mishmash on the video front.

The audio is surprisingly immersive at times, as most of the films carry a Dolby Digital 2.0 surround soundtrack that utilizes the surround speakers for ambience and music. I’ll See You In My Dreams again impresses with its full 5.1 surround track, while the rougher films such as Miss Greeny, Flat-N-Fluffy, Tea Break and Gorgonas feature basic stereo. Even so, Tea Break’s industrial-driven soundtrack comes across especially well.

Extras
Not satisfied with just having the films on the disc, each short is presented with some kind of extra. While all feature biographies for the filmmakers, many feature audio commentaries, which are sometimes a chore to get through, since all of the directors speak English, even if it’s not their first language. My personal favorite commentary is for Tea Break, which is delivered as a bluegrass ditty about how the directors did the film just to see their friends naked.

A few of the shorts have additional features; Gorgonas’ production featurette packs a lot in its minute-and-a-half running time by flashing test animation and character designs across the screen as the directors talk about the making of the film. I’ll See You In My Dreams features a Moonspell Music Video for the theme song, which one-ups the film itself by featuring double bass drum pedaling action. And hey, it even features an anamorphic widescreen presentation and 2.0 surround sound, too! And lesbian zombies! Finally, The Separation features a short deleted scene with commentary track that was a bit too whimsical to fit in with the film’s dark nature.

In another special features menu lies Blessing from Brazil: A greeting from José Mojica Marins (better known as Coffin Joe), Introductory words from Mitch Davis, television spots, Small Gauge Trauma 2005 festival trailer and a “What is FanTasia?” featurette that tells the story of the festival using television news coverage.

Overall
Zombies. Vampires. Lesbian nuns. Maternal terror. Violence as both social commentary and a punch line. If you’re a dedicated horror movie buff, the themes of these films won’t impress you, but the visual and technical aspects of each film will keep your eyes glued to the screen for its entire running time. Synapse should be commended for saving these films from impending obscurity and giving them the presentation they deserve.