2024 was something of turbulent year for Fantasia, Montréal’s preeminent rendezvous for fans of genre and Asian cinema. Ahead of the fest, talks of strife between management and some of the paid employees pushed the event into a larger conversation already underway in Québec and in the film festival world around fair remuneration for cultural workers, especially in an inflationary context. On the screen, a beloved section, Camera Lucida, meant to showcase off-beat takes on genre cinema was axed, dealing a blow to fans of less conventional horror and fantastic movies. All this led to a palpable feeling that Fantasia, once the scrappy underdog of the city’s festival scene was entering its corporate arc. But what of the movies I hear you screaming at your screen. Well for one, Fantasia actually downsized for once this year, cutting a few days off its usual punishing three weeks. Did that result in a more focused edition of the fest where quality reigned supreme over quantity... Not really. The usual glut of just fine genre offerings was still present, but some gems shone through all the more brightly. This year we were particularly blessed with outstanding animated works and stand-out action movies. This text will focus on the Asian side of the festival which is usually allowed to stray a bit further from the straight genre dictates of the rest of the fest.

This was most clear in a trio of work from veteran Japanese filmmaker Nobuhiro Yamashita. Helmer of the classic teen girl hang-out movie Linda Linda Linda (2005), Yamashita is known for loose dramedies built around loveable fuck-ups and tender coming-of-age flicks about bored teenaged girls. So he both surprises and sticks to his strengths with the three works he brought to the festival; an adaptation of a play about a group of schoolgirls cleaning out a pool, a single location survival thriller and... an animated movie about a sleazeball giant talking cat.

Ghost Cat Anzu is the by far the best of the three, an endearing and gregarious bit of animated magical realism about a young girl left at a Shinto shrine by her deadbeat dad and her uneasy cohabitation with a six foot tall ghost cat. The film mines much laughter from overlaying the banal over the fantastic, Anzu being a pachinko playing barely employed no-lifer in the guise of a giant feline with most characters barely commenting on it. Yamashita builds his characters with care and grace so that even the more outlandish moments remain heartfelt and touching, everything from the small town setting to the character interactions feeling lived-in and real. This is helped greatly by the rotoscoped animation which perfectly captures the minute details of the actors’ performances, anchoring the fantastic in reality and lending humanity to the characters. It’s both laugh out loud funny and genuinely touching with just the right amount of cynicism to keep it from feeling cloying, an absolutely winning combination.

Something of a surprise from Yamashita was Confessions about two mountain climbers stuck in a cabin during a snowstorm and the dark secret that will have them at each other’s throat. The film harkens back to the b movies of the 50s updating them with modern touches of body horror without messing with the formula too much. A true grasp of space in its single location adds greatly to the tense atmosphere and its fleet 75 minutes runtime means it never overstays its welcome, but it fails to really stand out, especially in a genre film festival. This one’s for the completists.

Third in line was Swimming in a Pool of Sand which superficially recalls some of Yamashita’s best works, namely his films about bored youth and the ultimate classic of the genre Linda, Linda, Linda. Taking place over a single summer day, a group of girls is charged with cleaning out their school’s pool, their personalities and relationships naturally reveal themselves under the scorching sun. The film is at its most pleasurable when it simply lets its characters lull away the day, their quirks and idiosyncrasies coming to the fore organically. It loses steam when its roots as a play become more apparent with characters monologuing about questions of gender in overly earnest and simplistic terms, messing up the good vibes. Like in Confessions a clever use of space and a strong grasp of atmosphere helps to make the proceedings feel more cinematic. But there remains something unsettled in the film, a sense that it’s being pulled between being a message movie and a more laid-back hang-out piece, a tension which Yamashita is ultimately unable to untangle leading to a more leaden offering if still sometimes buoyed by moments of grace.

Some of the more interesting and formally daring works to be shown at Fantasia this year could be found in the animation section. From its first frame, Mononoke The Movie: Phantom in The Rain (Kenji Nakamura) is truly a visual marvel. Adopting the style of Ukiyo-e, each new cut is filled with colours and designs to the point that it might at first be a little overwhelming trying to take in every inch of beauty projected on the screen. The film’s rapid-fire editing switching between details and angles even in dialogue heavy scenes and flashing symbolic imagery with little explanation, only adds to the feeling. However, the film is rapidly taken over by its own mysterious, mystic logic in line with the story of an itinerant exorcist/medicine seller on the heels of a dangerous Yokai terrorizing a harem. This gives way to moments of pure elation and poetry where everything from the colours to the animation to the editing seems possessed of unknown and ancient rules like a primeval ritual unfurling in front our eyes. This might all seem a bit overwhelming and some might balk at the film’s minimalist characterization, but when it clicks and its dance of colours and magic takes, it’s unlike anything you’ve seen before. Stunning in every sense of the word.

Continuing with stylish Japanese animation, we have Kizumonogatari: Koyomi Vamp (Tatsuya Oishi) a recutting of a trilogy of films, themselves prequels to an animated series adapted from a series of verbose Japanese light novels about a teenage vampire solving supernatural mysteries. Like its predecessors, Kizumonogatari’s singular charm lies in its overwhelming sense of style with logorrheic characters with outrageous names (Killshot is but one example) and buxom designs trading barbs and blows in ethereal environments rhythmed by rapid-fire editing. The film is an animation marvel with visual invention in every cut, basking in otherworldly atmosphere, fitting for the tale of a teenage boy being turned into a vampire. There is also an interesting interplay between moving and morphing animated bodies (the vampire’s rapid regeneration has rarely been so inventively used) juxtaposed over implacable, austerely beautiful CG backgrounds, extolling the vitality of the living over any oppressive force. I’m unsure if Kizumonogatari is the best introduction to the series, but on a purely visual level, the film is a triumph.

On the action front the real highlight was Twilight of The Warriors: Walled In, a jubilant jolt of Hong Kong action madness taking place in the famous Kowloon walled city. Director Chang Pou-Soi, known for his nervy action films fits right in this claustrophobic world staging intense and punishing scenes of close-quarter combats with an over the top flair we had not seen from him since the CGI fest of his Journey to The West trilogy. Hong Kong cinema’s great themes of brotherhood and community are pushed to 11 in this disarmingly affecting tale of an outsider finding his place among a ragtag group of misfits, drizzled in 80s stylishness and served with thrilling action scenes that pair parkour and kung-fu with anime extravagance to give us one of the truly great films of the fest. Chang could have gotten away with simply delivering some of the best action scenes of the last few years, but he manages to create an entire world with outstanding set design, enhanced by his gritty visual palette and winning characters that reveal themselves to be more than caricatures (there is a character with underwear on his head whose superpower is watching a lot of porn) even as the fights become more and more absurd and cartoony. There is a reason why everyone was cheering by the end of the film.

On the cornier side of things we have Brave Citizen (Park Jin-Pyo) from South Korea, a somewhat confused vigilante action film that gets by on some good fight scenes with an emphasis on grappling and realistic combat. Some will maybe take better to the film’s wild tonal mismatch oscillating between comedy, melodrama and message film about bullying all in the guise of an action film. South Korea usually makes a meal of such tonal heterogeneity, but Brave Citizen has the bad habit of trying to milk everything to the point of exhaustion from its over-the-top villains to its cloying sentimentality, leaving the viewer drained before even one punch is thrown.

This year also saw a number of action sequels which Fantasia faithfuls will recognize. The Roundup Punishment sees long time series action choreographer Hyo Myung-Haeng moving into the director’s chair. This is felt in the action scenes which are crunchy and to the point with Don Lee usually dispatching his enemies in a single punch and in fast-paced knife fights played out in long takes. The dialogue scenes also seem more televisual with frontal angles and flat lighting. This does give it an old-school charm reminiscent of Dirty Harry and the no-nonsense crime dramas of its ilk. Ultimately, this is more Roundup. By this point, you should know what you’re in for.

Baby Assassins: Nice Days (Yugo Sakamoto) is the most action packed of the “Baby Assassins” trilogy giving us an actually dangerous villain and perhaps the best work of Sonomura’s action choreographer career to date, full of fluid movement punctuated by grabs and throws and a supreme understanding of body positioning, especially when guns are involved turning the fights into tense games of angles and inches. This is all captured in flowing long takes by Yugo Sakamoto emphasizing the speed and agility of his actors, finding the angles to always orient the viewer. This renewed focus on action also means less comedy and hang-out vibes which had been the franchise’s bread and butter. Fans will have to decide if that’s for the best. I can’t complain when we’ve got Sonomura firing on all cylinders.

Another sequel not flying too far from the nest was Fly me to Saitama: From Biwa Lake With Love (Hideki Takeuchi), the Kansai based continuation of Fly Me to Saitama which had been a fun bit of Japanese exuberance a few years back. This is pretty much the same as the first film switching the regionally specific jokes about Saitama prefecture to Kansai, not a bad thing since the first one was oftentimes laugh out loud funny in its unhinged commitment to the bit. Everything is done with an admirably straight-faced dedication in this outlandish story of oppressed Shiga natives fighting against the oppressive Osaka forces from its visual to its over the top acting. This lends the film an amusing lunacy, but it runs the risk of being too insular for those not well-versed in Japanese prefecture-based humour.

A quick word on the repertory Hong Kong titles which are always a highlight of the festival. The Avenging Eagle (Sun Chung, 1978) is fine Shaw Bros entertainment synthesizing the two great voices of Shaw’s golden age. It starts off as a Lau Kar-leung film focusing on humour and the martial art styles of the characters and ends as a Chang Cheh film with brotherhood, death and destruction prevailing. Beyond that, the film thrives with its great fights and engaging dynamic between the two main characters.

More outside the box was a Killer Constable (Kuei Chih-Hung, 1980), a kind of kung-fu noir focusing on an investigation into the theft of precious treasure. The film stands out through some great compositions during the fight scenes and striking use of lighting which can sometimes get in the way of the action, but provides an interesting contrast to the more theatrical style typical of the period.

We also got to see A Chinese Ghost Story 2 (Ching Siu-Tung, 1990) which fails to fully recapture the magic of the first film, lacking some of its poetry and romance and focusing more heavily on humour. The film is still a thrill ride with impressive practical effects and some truly bonkers spiritual kung-fu leaving us hoping for the final film of the trilogy to make an apparition in next year’s program.

The real Chinese ghost story however was A Legend (Stanley Tong), a truly awful star vehicle for the aging Jackie Chan, here badly de-aged with the most slapdash face filter technology from five years ago, presumably more of an ego trip than a choice strictly necessary to the narrative. The rest of the film is not much more inspired switching from the present day to the past of the warring kingdoms era with little regard for pacing or narrative cohesion. Some of the fights are good, but most involve CGI armies further pushing the film into the uncanny valley. The ending however in its hubris is possessed of a certain cadaveric quality, propelling the film into something straight out of Franju. In it a de-aged, emotionless Jackie Chan is carrying the lifeless body of his one true love on his CG horse into a computer generated background of a chintzy Shangri-La. Nothing is alive in this image, it is all simulacra, a fake face on a stunt double riding with a dead body into a false utopia. I doubt this was the goal of the filmmakers, but I left the theater elated at having seen a truly ghoulish film.

This year’s festival was noticeably lighter in terms of smaller films which do not fall into easily identifiable genres. There was Tatsumi (Hiroshi Shoji), an effective little revenge film which dragged at some points but got by through indie grit and convincing Yakuza staples like menacing looking Japanese men yelling at each other. Similar problems plagued Penalty Loop (Shinji Araki), an ultimately winning time loop film which starts slow and has one too many epilogue, but develops an endearing laid-back vibe where humour and drama freely mix.

For a second year in a row, the fest seemed lighter on Korean fare, somewhat remedied by The Killers (Kim Jong-kwan, Roh Deok, Chang Han-jun, Lee Myung-se), a collection of five stylish shorts revolving around contract killers, a good sample platter of many genres the peninsula has excelled at in years past. We have the horror tinged thriller, the lowlife comedy and the violent serial killer bloodbath, all cleverly playing with genre norms in short, stylish bursts of cinematic fun. Unfortunately, the last short stumbles in its slapstick silliness coming out as something like Jean-Pierre Jeunet doing Lars Von Trier circa Europa. Linking all the films is the presence of actress Shim Eun-kyung who always impresses, showcasing the extent of her range.

FAQ (Kim Da-Min) is a genuinely puzzling film. For most of its runtime it seems like a quirky coming-of-age tale, Miranda July for the tween Korean set, but its ending casts everything that had come before it in a much more sinister tone, what had seemed like critique turns into apologia, leaving a rancid taste in the mouth. I’m tempted to recommend it if only to have you share the wild whiplash of its last few minutes. Beginning as a sweet-natured tale about a young girl cultivating her curiosity and individuality with the help of an alien life form communicating through fermented rice wine, it keeps up this whimsical tone for most of the film, while exposing the crushing pressure to perform academically kids are placed under by parents and society at large. I would be remiss to spoil the way the ending betrays this message, but it can lay the dubious claim to being one of the biggest surprises of the fest.

More impressive from the land of the morning calm was The Tenants (Yoon Eun-Kyung), a well executed Kafkaesque take on the housing crisis. Great inky black and white and a destabilizing atmosphere do wonders for this moody and sardonic film, creating a Lynchian allegory out of limited resources. At 90 minutes, the film has the space to play around with its themes and develop its mysteries without dragging, a feat a lot of films at the fest struggle with.

And so another year comes and goes at Fantasia which saw some standout titles in its action and animated sections. However, one could sense a definite change in orientation for the institution. Smaller films were few and far between and true discoveries remained elusive. It is somewhat normal even desired for a festival of this age to have favourites and returning artists, to have a defined aesthetic and voice. But Fantasia always thrived on being the weird one in the room, on siding with the misfits and the maladjusted, on insisting that the weird, misshapen little genre films it loved were worth showing and seeking out. And for a few years now, it’s felt like it’s moved away from that ethos, on the screen and it seems now, off of it too.

Volume 29, Issue 6 / June 2025 Festival Reports   asian cinema   fantasia international film festival   martial arts