by Razor Sharp

Way, way back, when I was a misguided youth up to no good, I procured a seedy collection of raunchy grindhouse trailers slapped onto a video cassette that promised (in bright, exploding fonts), to appease my guilty pleasure. It came in a plain brown wrapper and might as well have been delivered by the wino down the block. I couldn’t have been more giddy.

Anyone spending precious mind-developing time in damp, musty theatres back in the day when commercials were relegated to television consoles, can attest to one simple fact: trailers for cheap, exploitation flicks were totally fabulous. The movies themselves were for the most part boring, one-trick ponies, but sliced and diced down to a couple of fast-paced minutes, with an ominous voiceover and splashy lettering bombarding every scene, you had yerself some killer entertainment.

This little phenomenon was recently brought back to full colourvision by Quentin Tarantino in his Grindhouse series ― that is, the art of the trailer. Fake trailers for movies that didn’t exist, cuz they don’t need to exist. The trailer is the thing!

That spawned a couple of faux film fests around the globe, which now miraculously includes Ottawa. The Fake Trailers/Real Festival is pretty self-explanatory, featuring lovingly sculpted works of celluloid for projects of the imagination, delivered by quirky directors in love with the debauchery genre. The night will also include real trailers from the glory grindhouse days of movie exploitation, doubling the reason you will be knocking old ladies outta the way to get to the Mayfair Theatre Friday night.