So much of the discussion about cinema viewing this year has been about what cameras Christopher Nolan shot The Odyssey on. As someone who engages in film discussion as part of running this website, it's been a bit exhausting. Yep, the film looks great, but if I'm being provocative for a moment, it's a film that didn't leave a mark on my emotional state of being. Part of this came down to the overwhelming and desensitising nature of cinema I watched the film in, and also because I couldn't help but feel drawn to the manner of how The Odyssey was shot. It looks great, but that's all I could think about.
As a contrast, the films that linger in my mind and have left a mark are the ones that texturally feel disruptive to my film viewing experience. I've long mentioned about how I viewed The Texas Chainsaw Massacre on a distressed VHS when I was thirteen, an experience where I vomited on myself during the hook scene. It wasn't until I watched Alexandre O. Philippe's Chain Reactions and realised that around the world, there were different vibes of the horror classic simply due to the format that people watched it in. Alexandra Heller Nicholas talks in the film about that sun-bleached, distressed Aussie K-Tel VHS that was available around the nation. Seeing it in the documentary felt like I was reexperiencing a fever dream. The Bluray of Chain Reactions includes different styles of the film from around the world.
I mention this because the upcoming Collective of Underground Movie Lovers Shot On Shit (S.O.S.) Film Festival is kicking off again on 16 October 2026. The festival throws down the beautiful invitation to filmmakers to submit a short film shot on the worst camera they own. Their About section on the site puts it succinctly and kindly:
Can we make ugly beautiful again?
The visual style of a film is as impactful as the narrative itself or even the performances. This is partially why I felt so distanced and distracted by The Odyssey: it simply looked too good and stunning for all of the violence and anguish that goes on in the film. The visual style of it doesn't reflect the narrative tone of it.
Then there's something like Christian Byers stunning The Death of an Undertaker, a film that's as lo-fi as they come, shot in a way that, to quote the director, "conjures images of $3 bins at an old video store or just a videotape that's got Death of an Undertaker scrolled across it in pen that's gone over and half run out and you have to get a new pen to keep writing it on the rest of the label." It's got a vibe of a worn down VHS tape, something illicit or forgotten. That visual style plays into the narrative of the film.
For anyone who's experienced The Death of an Undertaker, you'll know that it's a film that lingers in your mind because of its visual style. This is what audiences can expect from the S.O.S. Film Festival.
As you'll hear in the below interview with festival programmers Parker Constantine and Flynn Boffo, I have a huge level of admiration for the work that The Collective of Underground Movie Lovers is doing in Sydney right now. This kind of grass roots, film enthusiast film collective is part of the changing face of Australian cinema. Through people like Parker and Flynn, creativity thrives, it grows, it survives.
For all the details for the S.O.S. Film Festival, visit the link below:
And check out previous films screened at the festival here:
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