One of the only things I liked about living in Ottawa was the strong film community. Every other week there seemed to be a film festival or independent screenings of some sort. Strangely, one of my favourite venues was the Ottawa Public Library. It was in that small basement theatre that I experienced some of my most rewarding cinematic experiences.

One of those occurances was a screening of The Goblin Man of Norway, with director Howard Byrackk in attendance, and shown as part of a tribute to The World Film Society, held in cooperation with The Norwegian Film Committee. I’m usually not one for documentaries, but an early experience with The Legend of Boggy Creek ingrained in me a love for all things cryptozoological and pseudo-cryptozoological.

The Goblin Man of Norway revolves around the discovery of technology dating before recorded history, and the attempt by some scholars to link this artifact to creatures of Myth. As the film progresses and the study of the creature turns from the theoretical to the practical, this initial excitement is tempered by, and eventually replaced in whole with barely suspressed fear and paranoia. As one participant extols, “It reinforces the notion that what has been dismissed as mere story may indeed be a record of the actual.” Taken at face value, this idea of cyclic history could be considered to be a positive step toward understanding our own nature through the uncovering of the distant past. However, upon further reflection such considerations may be seen as a double-edged sword. Some legends may be better off buried and half-remembered.

While I had heard good things about Byrackk’s previous outings, including his critically acclaimed film The Lost Are Now Found, I was unprepared for a documentary with this kind of cold beauty. The Goblin Man of Norway is an eerie example of the form, with its strange combination of Errol Morris-style reenactments, Norse mythology, and imagery that evokes John Carpenter’s The Thing. The creature itself is unnerving, not only in its appearance but in the implications suggested by its very existence.

The Q+A afterwards was one of the most intriguing, yet volatile, I’ve ever been witness to. Director Howard Byrackk was genial and engaging, even when taking exception to accusations that he was exploiting this scientific find in an attempt to create unnecessary controversy and further his own notoriety. Oddly, one of the people protesting Byrackk’s methods was Mark Hoyt, one of the geomorphologists who discovered the creature. Hoyt interrupted a question directed at Byrackk and proceeded to accuse the filmmaker of misrepresentation. Hoyt’s objections centred around a belief that Byrackk had distorted the scientific basis of the findings in favour of cheap scaremongering. For some, this intrusion dispelled the feelings of foreboding that the film conveys, but as the confusion died down and the lights came up I was left with a lingering sense of unease. Hic sunt dracones.

I was convinced that, considering it’s origins, I would never get another chance to view it. The only copy I could track down was a VHS release distributed exclusively through reference libraries and assorted education institutions in Norway. Thankfully, it appears that the documentary recently served as a springboard for the development of a video game, and the company creating the game has obtained the rights to use The Goblin Man of Norway in their promotions. You can find the first third of the documentary in question here, listed under Developer Diary (March 27, 2008). While this means that we probably shouldn’t expect a proper DVD release, at least this rare work is finally available in North America.

Despite some stiff competition, when it comes to revered horror movies Jaws inevitably makes the top. When studios announce their goal of remaking a classic horror movie they’re usually greeted with exhausted, barely noticeable scorn. When Bryan Singer announced that he had absolutely no intention of remaking Jaws, fans went into a frenzy, based for no other reason than on the proximity of the words “Jaws” and “remake” to one another. Such is the power of Jaws.

With that in mind, it surely comes as no surprise that a group of fans have taken it upon themselves to create the ultimate Jaws documentary, entitled “Shark Is Still Working,” that clocks in at an amazing 3 hours and 14 minutes, over an hour longer than the movie itself.

The film features new interviews with Steven Spielberg, cast members Roy Scheider (who also provides the film’s narration), Richard Dreyfuss, Lorraine Gary, producers Richard Zanuck and David Brown, cinematographer Bill Butler, production designer Joe Alves, composer John Williams, and nearly every surviving member of the “Jaws” production that you could wish for. The film also includes the last on-camera interview with “Jaws” novelist Peter Benchley, which should mean a lot to appreciative fans of Benchley’s creation.

The film also takes time out with people who weren’t involved in Jaws in a professional capacity, but have respect for the Great White as fans, including fillmmakers such as Bryan Singer, Robert Rodriquez, and Eli Roth. I’m not anything remotely close to an obsessive Jaws fan, but I would still love to delve into something this obsessive.

The documentarians behind the film Kreating Karloff have placed the entire thing online, which is not a bad idea when you consider the purpose behind the production. Conor Timmis is a Boris Karloff fan so taken with his hero that he has put together a show reel in an attempt to convince major studios to produce a full biopic of the horror legend with him as the star. This film is a look behind-the-scenes at the various people who have helped him along the way, along with their observations on both Karloff and how they perceive Timmis’ obsession with the actor.

I had limited computer access over the holidays, but I did manage to clock in some time on the internet. One of the things I filed away for my return was the trailer for a new documentary film being produced called Grindhouse Glory (and in case you can’t tell from the title, this one is Rated NSFW).

It’s a tad overlong for a trailer, and it’s mostly bulked up with clips from various movies of that era taken out of context, but the real treat is that they’ve roped in a fair amount of near-forgotten directors to discuss those halycon days. Some of the people profiled include Jeff Lieberman (Squirm), David Durston (I Drink Your Blood), Greydon Clark (Satan’s Cheerleaders) and John “Bud” Cardos (Kingdom of the Spiders). Hell, yeah!

For even more information, make sure you check out Horror Movies interview with the director behind Grindhouse Glory, David Litz.

How did this one sneak by? I knew legendary pop culture documentarian Ron Mann was filming a “Big Daddy” Roth film, but I had no idea it was being released so soon. If you don’t dig yet, lay your orbs on this interview with Ron Mann.

There was a shift in culture in the late ‘50s and early ‘60s. Roth was like Wolfman Jack or Mad magazine; he was someone who put a message out into the culture. That message was that it was okay to be weird. That being weird was cool. I personally liked Roth’s shirts and graphics because my parents hated them—those Basil Wolverton-esque monsters were great. When you were a kid you wanted to wear a T-shirt with Rat Fink on it and build those models.

Tales of a Rat Fink is playing the festival circuit right now, but Varsity Cinema in Toronto has it for a week-long engagement, right now. Lucky bastards.

Rated F for Finks everywhere.