I have to admit that I’m not up on my experimental films, but when Rites of Birdexx from writer/director Brandon Lord Ross crossed my desk and, well, there was nudity so I had to check it out. It’s not so horrific that I wish I could unsee it, but it is a traumatic experience, visually speaking.
I’m also not entirely sure what it was about, girls I suppose (joke), but Ross has described it as “a journey to the birth of madness!”
After a short introduction, Rites of Birdexx is divided up into five sections: “Tranconvection,” “Arise,” “Incubation,” “The Dance,” and “Revelation.” All these sections are as fucked up as roadkill, but each one is distinct, ranging from ‘60s psychedelia to beatnik jazz to an odd sort of calm and to sadness. And it’s all evil with a satanic cult-like ritual going on.
Rites of Birdexx is definitely an art film not for the faint of heart. Like I said earlier, it’s not really horrific or grotesque in any way, but it is a shock to the senses. It’s like a visual and aural attack, as if Ross were trying to induce an epileptic seizure.
You’ll have to watch it to take away your own impressions, and it’s worth your while, especially if you’re a film student.
Rock Hard \m/