Afternoon Delight’s premise might seem humorously silly, but it spends much more time delving into dark topics than light. Advancing on a meandering path of restless desire to investigate the unknown, characters explore how societal ideals, past trauma, and dangerous boundaries challenge their parenting abilities, friendships, and marriages. The film’s authentic, fly-on-the-wall aura was truly a delight.

Rachel (Kathryn Hahn) is a quick-witted and endearing woman growing increasingly frustrated with her sexless marriage and preschool event duties as a stay-at-home mother. In an effort to spice up her life, she visits a strip club and receives a lap dance from a stripper named McKenna. Unable to shake her fascination with McKenna, she befriends her and, when McKenna needs a place to stay, offers a spare bedroom in her home, thinking she can change McKenna’s “sex worker” habits. What follows is an emotive rollercoaster, filled with painful-to-watch turns and stomach churning loops, which remains grounded in a beautiful authenticity that keeps the film from straying too far into an unrealistic abyss. Armed with a dysfunctional yet captivating therapist (portrayed by Jane Lynch), the film manages to breach uncomfortable and unorthodox situations while depicting accessible and believable characters. Unsurprisingly Kathryn Hahn knocks her performance out of the park, reiterating my long-held belief that she should headline more films. Jill Soloway, the film’s screenwriter and director, deserves commendation for bravely allowing characters to struggle on camera in a genuine way. Soloway was awarded Best Director at Sundance this year, an amazing feat for her directorial debut. Considering the profound honesty and vulnerability of the film, it’s unsurprising that she won this honor. From what we’ve seen so far, she may very well deserve it.

Science fiction, as a genre, can be compared to fantasy in a number of ways. Both indulge in worlds beyond our wildest dreams, worlds of monsters, holograms, lightsabers, elves, dwarves, aliens, magic and everything in between, mostly for indulgence’s sake. Look at Avatar: the world of Pandora is drenched in vibrant hues of blues, greens, and purples, and its wildlife consists of six-legged shiny leopards and monstrous flying lizards with four wings. Or take Pacific Rim (which I really loved, by the way): everything about the film is pumped up to eleven, from the rocket-powered punches to the kaiju and their neon blue saliva. The point is that science fiction overall is very stylized, very fantastical, and very, well, fictional.

District 9, however, was none of those things. Its aliens aren’t slender green men with wide black eyes and shady motives. They look a hell of a lot like shrimp and just want to fit in, like the rest of us. They don’t live in stainless steel pods with glass domes and touch screens. They live in slums, shantytowns on the outskirts of an Earth city because their ship is out of resources. Their presence on Earth isn’t an invasion for the sake of invasion. They are there because they have nowhere else to go, and they are at the mercy of the humans who put them in those slums.

Blomkamp’s Johannesburg felt crushingly real, which is why its searing allegory of apartheid was so effective. We weren’t just sucked into the world because of its aesthetics, like we were with Avatar. We didn’t marvel at the technology or the aliens because, well, there wasn’t a lot to marvel at. It looked like a realistic, practical vision of aliens and alien tech. So instead of pulling us into the world using flashy effects and overwhelming the senses, Blomkamp pulls us in to Johannesburg because we can really see ourselves there. It’s so believable, so down to earth that we skip right past all the wide-eyed wonder at the world and we start to look at the people: what they think, what they believe, what we would do if we were in their situation. Johannesburg, 25 years after alien refugees land as a last resort, is terrifying.

The audience is especially drawn in to Blomkamp’s vision because of the film’s mockumentary style, which introduces us to a host of South Africans involved to varying degrees in the ghettoization of the prawns. Some are business executives concerned only with profits, others scientists examining alien weaponry. Their different opinions give us a slice of South African life and tell us a great deal about the world Blomkamp created. How do these people see the prawns? What do they believe in? The use of interviews to explore facets of life in Johannesburg negates the need for using more of the film’s tiny budget on special effects. We are both told, through these interviews, and shown, through Wikus’s story arc, what this world is like. District 9 is so effective because it crafts this environment with such conviction, but knows exactly when to have its political allegory take the driver’s seat and let the science fiction elements fade to the background.

Elysium, on paper, should have an even easier job of creating that same allegorical magic that District 9 captured. And yet it just isn’t quite as convincing. Let’s just put aside some of the other issues with the film like scripting and really stupid accents (I’m looking at you, Jodie Foster). Let’s just look at the world Blomkamp creates and how it compares to District 9.

I have no complaints about Los Angeles in 2154. It feels claustrophobic, dirty, overpopulated—every bit as convincing as Johannesburg is. It’s Elysium we’re hungering to see more of. Yes, visually speaking it’s impeccably crafted and dazzling. We see brief glimpses of their lavish parties, their luxurious clothes, their Bugatti spaceships, but we never see any substance. The only residents of this idyllic halo we really meet are the President, his cabinet, and Secretary Delacourt. And they’re, well, pretty crazy. They’re so wrapped up in their own selfish desires and intentions that we never get a chance to examine their characters, how they fit in with the larger fabric of Elysium. Why didn’t we see more of the general populous of super-wealthy inhabitants of the space station? What do they think about themselves, each other? The mockumetary style used in District 9 would have solved this issue, but then Elysium would have essentially been District 9 re-skinned. Props for switching up the format, but there’s a hole in the environment that just isn’t filled. It never brings us into its world, envelops us in its utopian halo in the sky, which is what’s so disappointing about the film as a whole. Blomkamp has proven his skill as a director and storyteller, but his examination of class warfare and the 1% in Elysium just never reaches the heights of District 9.

Blomkamp has this amazing ability to create these detailed, gritty, believable worlds. He makes realistic science fiction, a rarity in a genre fraught with post-apocalyptic hellscapes and giant sea monsters. His movies transcend traditional B-movie sci-fi; they’re smart, they really mean something. By bringing issues like apartheid and economic inequality into these futuristic yet realistic settings, he forces the audience to look at the subject matter in a different perspective. The science fiction aesthetic enhances the moral and political themes he is trying to convey and helps the audience absorb them in a very seamless way.

Neill Blomkamp dares to build these worlds that aren’t beautiful, that aren’t fantastical and flashy. They are very gritty, very dirty, and very real. And that’s a rare thing. I can’t wait to see what he does next.

District 9 is available on home video and Elysium is currently in theaters.

This week NUFEC e-board members Brandon Isaacson and Mary Tobin had a conversation with Jeremy Kipp Walker and John Mitchell, who directed the 2013 release The History of Future Folk. Walker and Mitchell have worked on two short films together, Goodnight Bill and Super Powers. Walker co-directs and produces, while Mitchell co-directs and writes. In addition to working with Mitchell, Walker has co-produced Academy Award nominated film Half Nelson, and produced Sundance Film Festival selections Sugar and Cold Souls.

After premiering at the 2012 Los Angeles Film Festival, The History of Future Folk played the festival circuit where it won Best Screenplay for a Comedy Feature at Fantastic Fest Film Festival 2012, and the Audience Award at the Philadelphia Film Festival 2012.

You can learn more about the film from our recent review, their website, and their Facebook and Twitter pages.

Jeremy Kipp Walker (left) and John Mitchell (right) at the 2013 Film Independent Filmmaker Grant And Spirit Award Nominees Brunch at BOA Steakhouse on January 12, 2013 in West Hollywood, California

Source: Imeh Akpanudosen/Getty Images North America

NUFEC: It has now been over a year since you documented two brave Hondonians saving the earth. Still, President Obama has not mentioned it in a speech. STILL, there has been no parade. I am deeply sorry for my country’s ignorance. Can you forgive us?

JKW: That’s a great question, and probably best answered by our Future Folk heroes themselves. General Trius…  Mighty Kevin…  What do you say?

General Trius: Hondo.

The Mighty Kevin: Hondo!

General Trius: While we’re very excited to be receiving public recognition for our movie (which recounts our roll in saving Earth and its people) a year and a half does seem like a long time to wait for a parade. 

The Mighty Kevin: We can imagine that those giant keys take a while to cut, though.

General Trius: Yes, and we look forward to receiving the accolades appropriate for a celebration of this magnitude soon. Also, quick FYI, The Mighty Kevin is allergic to confetti.

NUFEC: Future Folk’s stage show is more filled with jokes and less rooted in human narrative and drama. How did you transform their act to be more relatable and adept for a film? What was the biggest challenge in that regard?

JKW: We’ve been big fans of the stage act since they first started in 2004. There is this incredibly charming combination of ridiculous, low-fi space costumes juxtaposed with beautiful and sincere bluegrass music. And the whole thing is interspersed with this funny, sprawling backstory.

JM: That was part of the challenge on the screenwriting side. What worked on stage wouldn’t necessarily always translate to screen so we had to really treat this as an adaptation. The first thing I did was simplify the backstory – partly for storytelling reasons and partly due to budgetary constraints.

JKW: And the other big challenge with the movie was tone. We wanted it to be a comedy and we wanted to preserve the spirit of the stage act for sure, but we knew the movie could devolve pretty quickly if we didn’t try to imbue the film with somewhat grounded characters and emotional stakes. Balancing the absurdity of the movie was something we were very conscious of throughout making it.

NUFEC: You’ve said in previous interviews that there was a real family atmosphere when making this film. How do you think that impacted the decisions you made regarding the screenwriting process? Were you more willing to go crazy because you trusted those you worked with or less willing because you felt an obligation to have the film look a certain way?

JKW: The whole thing was very much a family affair. We didn’t have a lot of money to make it but we did have a lot of goodwill and friends who were willing to help out. We shot it the neighborhood where we live, we used our apartments, the local bar and coffee shop as sets and our friends as extras. We basically took stock of what we had and shaped the story around that. 

JM: And at the end of the day, we’re making a movie about a couple of bucket helmet wearing aliens playing space bluegrass music, so keeping things light and playful on set was important to set the tone. So long as we could get the work done…

NUFEC: This was Nils’ first acting project. Was there any concern there that his inexperience might show on camera?

JKW: Yes, that was a huge leap of faith on everyone’s part. But he trusted us and was willing to do whatever he needed to and he did an amazing job.

JM: And it was also something we worked with on the screenwriting side. Knowing these guys for years, we were able to write the film to their strengths. We knew what each of them could do very well and shaped the movie around it.

NUFEC: Jeremy, how did your experience working on successful indie films such as Half Nelson, Sugar and Cold Souls inform this film? Did you ever reach out to Anna Boden, Ryan Fleck or Sophia Barthes for help with Future Folk?

JKW: Yes, I definitely pulled from all of my experiences and relationships working as an indie-producer all these years in NYC. John and I had directed several short films together that did well on the festival circuit, but taking on a feature film of my own was a daunting task. And while there is often some creative overlap between directing and producing on indies – at the end of the day it’s sort of the difference between being an Uncle or a Father. And this was my first-born feature film, so to speak. But it was really all of the time on my other producing projects that gave me the confidence and experience to know how to co-direct this one.

NUFEC: Evan Saathof at Bad Ass Digest said, “…The History of Future Folk is a film better suited to packed theaters than on lonely, chocolate fingerprinted computer screens. This is a crowd pleaser, so seeing it alone might not be the best idea.”

Do you agree with this sentiment? Why did you put the film on VOD and iTunes almost immediately after releasing it theatrically?

JKW: You bring up a really great point. The movie played around two dozen film festivals for a year before it was released and we got to tour around and watch it at a lot of packed houses across the country and abroad. And seeing it with a large audience is definitely the best experience. It’s a comedy with live music and you feed off the energy better when you see it in a group setting.

JM: But then there’s the reality of getting people to see your movie in a theater when it comes out…

JKW: Exactly. With film festivals they have their own advertising and built in audiences but with our commercial release we had no advertising money so we’re relying on reviews and word-of-mouth to spread awareness. We decided we could reach more people if we released on iTunes and in theaters at the same time so we could take advantage of timing of our reviews. This is the way it’s going for most lower budget indies these days. Although I think it’s definitely better to see the movie in a theater it’s harder to get people out of the house for something without movie stars and huge marketing dollars. At the end of the day way more people have seen our movie on iTunes. Although I wish more people could see it in the theater as it was intended to be seen, we’re so lucky as filmmakers to have these alternative methods of getting the movie in front of audiences.

Brandon Isaacson and Mary Tobin discuss The History of Future Folk

The History of Future Folk might possess several plot holes and amateurish touches, but the part-concert, part-alien invasion film’s quirk, warmth, and beautiful music fitfully drown out those issues. Where many films would overdo fantastical plot elements or peculiar character traits, the film’s absurdity managed to amuse rather than incite eye-rolls. Genuine wit and heart kept us glued to the screen.

The film follows a two-person folk band called Future Folk, both members of which appear to be human but are actually aliens from the planet Hondo. Bill (Nils d’Aulaire) and Kevin (Jay Klaitz) were sent from Hondo to aid in a takeover of Earth, as a comet will soon destroy Hondo. The Hondonians must relocate to Earth to survive. However, instead of eradicating humans, they found an immediate, childlike affection for music—something they’d never encountered on Hondo. Now admirers of human creations and performers of alien-folk music growing in popularity, they must find a way to destroy the comet threatening Hondo before Hondo and Earth destroy each other. Yes, this is very silly. Yes, it’s also actually a very good movie.

The levity doesn’t detach from the serious emotions of the film. Touching upon the strained coexistence of differing societies and the power of human emotion, the screenplay manages to walk the razor’s edge of creating a zany, eccentric sci-fi fantasy film while rooting the plot in an emotive human narrative. Quite impressive.

You can find this film on VOD, iTunes, DVD and Amazon Instant Video.

Safety Not Guaranteed, But an Entertaining Story Is

Rating B+

I did not have high hopes for this movie, but it truly went beyond my expectations. Safety Not Guaranteed is one of the better-written stories I have seen in a while. Given a lack of creative camera movements and seemingly unintentional jump cuts, the movie feels low budget. More importantly however, it has rich characters that are complimented by honest performances.

The story is about love, but not a love story. Not surprisingly writer Derek Connolly won many awards including the Waldo Salt Screenwriting Award at the 2012 Sundance Film Festival where the movie debuted, and Best First Screenplay at the 2013 Independent Spirit Awards. Connolly uses every tool in a writer’s box to entertain and inspire the audience. He starts us off with a great hook, wondering if Kenneth, played by Mark Duplass, can actually time travel, and keeps us continually drawn to it with hints of legitimacy. Depressed, but relatable characters made me root for them all the way through the movie and hope they get what they want. All the main characters change in attempts to reach their goals.

Three people from a Chicago newspaper venture into the suburbs to write a story about a man who has put an ad in a local paper looking for a partner to travel back in time with. Kenneth, who placed the ad, cannot guarantee safety on this adventure to go where nobody has gone before. As Darius, played by Aubrey Plaza, tries to make sense of Kenneth, she loses sight of her job as a reporter in hopes of a greater experience. Safety Not Guaranteed is worth a watch especially with someone you care about.