Totally Insane and Fucked-up Films, it’s what TIFF has come to mean to me over the years. Be that as it may do not interpret this as a negative thing, because I most definitely do not. Every September the stars fall to earth and my mind is taken on a trip. This year I went on three.

My third year covering the fest for this blog began on Sunday. Accompanied by my girl the two of us went to see Nick Cassavetes’ “Yellow.” Truth be told the initial inspiration for this was the fact that “Yellow” is my nickname for her. However, the movie was completely unlike her, at least with regards to the fact that she isn’t a pill-popping mess caught up in an incestuous love triangle. Insane… but now that time has past I see the bright colors behind my clouded viewing.

Too often we view relationships as something to be publicly praised and privately enjoyed. What the fuck is wrong with us?! Relationships are far from smiles wrapped with sunbeams. They are rather like the night: misunderstood darkness that dims what we want to see in hopes that we will look within. That we will work-out our own closeted bullshit that only our significant other can effectively expose.

Monday dawned and things got weirder. After work my brother and I embarked on a horrific double-header. First up to bat was “Berberian Sound Studio.” It was a behind-the-scenes look at the audio aspects of Giallo cinema, (Italian horror indulged in the clandestine Catholicism and sadomasochistic eroticism). With the warm-up out of the way we swung for the bleachers with “Lords of Salem.” Minutes after midnight the madness unfolded onscreen. Seventeenth century witches were filtered through LaVey’s Satanism and portrayed using a Kubrick-like lens. This terrifically creepy threesome birthed the Underlord by its end, leaving my psyche further scarred.

Two days and three movies was all it took this year to beat up my brain and batter my soul. Sure I fit in a little star-stalking and gala attending to boot, but it’s the movies that make it all worthwhile. It’s these movies, messed up as they are, that help me open my third eye to brighter possibilities. At times I feel like a puzzle wrapped in an enigma, at times I know this frustrates those around me. Bless the souls of those that deal with me and all of my insanity. Films like those above help me see how deep-seeded it is. But as fucked-up as I am I border on genius every once in awhile and put it down in words.

For every one I’ve written, for every one that’s read, I remain consumed with gratitude.