Film Festivals
Family. It is something we cherish, and for those unfortunate few who don’t have one, it is something to seek. We are nurtured by familial ties; without them we would be stranded and alone.
Ah, TIFF. A film lover’s delight, and for a little ol’ Canuck like me, the perfect time to indulge in all the fun and excitement of a festival without having to travel thousands of miles. Ever since I attended my first festival in 2011, I’ve found no reason to stop coming back.
The title of horror anthology Southbound implies a deep sojourn into racist, redneck Americana, locked and loaded under a blood red, lone star. This is a Democrat’s version of hell, ruled by Donald Trump’s tentacles and all of his Republican demons, suckered into building a never ending wall between America and the rest of the world. Southbound suggests a one-way ticket to Hades, but its various characters are still on their terrifying journeys, clutching desperately to their ever diminishing morality.
This year saw the very first Wales International Documentary Festival, which ran from 12th-14th May in the valleys of South Wales. Blackwood, to be more specific, north of Cardiff, and the home of the band Manic Street Preachers, the boxer Joe Calzaghe and the Dream Alliance race horse syndicate. They are, in fact, the very reason why the WIDF has found its home here.