Director: Anthony Frith
Stars: Eric Roberts, Michael Paré, Michelle Bauer
Synopsis: A struggling director documents his journey making a “mockbuster” in six days, descending into the chaotic world of low-budget filmmaking.
“A bad movie is better than no movie” – my favorite quote from this film. I haven’t had this much fun with a film in a long time. It’s a must-watch for B-movie fans.
Most people only ever see the finished product. They watch a film, praise it or critique it, and move on without thinking about the hundreds of tiny miracles, or disasters, that had to happen behind the scenes to get it made. That’s especially true of low-budget cinema. Audiences often laugh at so-called “bad movies,” but rarely stop to consider just how difficult it is to make any feature, regardless of budget. Mockbuster is a quirky, fun documentary about making a film rather than surviving one. Anthony Frith’s wonderfully self-aware behind-the-scenes adventure offers an affectionate, hilarious and surprisingly insightful look inside one of cinema’s most infamous production companies: The Asylum.
For anyone unfamiliar with The Asylum, they’re the studio that built an empire producing films designed to sit suspiciously close to Hollywood blockbusters. Think cheap sets, crappy CGI genre flicks. They’re responsible for the Sharknado phenomenon, alongside countless wonderfully shameless titles that have become cult favourites precisely because of their unapologetic absurdity. Their films are often dismissed as cheap knock-offs, but Mockbuster asks a far more interesting question: what does it actually take to make one?
The answer, it turns out, is organized chaos. After years of directing corporate videos and watching his filmmaking ambitions slowly drift away, Frith simply asked The Asylum to let him direct The Land That Time Forgot, a dinosaur adventure shot in suburban Adelaide over just six frantic days. At the same time, he decides to document the experience, creating a film that’s every bit as entertaining as the production itself. What follows is part documentary, part comedy, and part endurance test. As Firth wants to create something that has his stamp on it.
The beauty of Mockbuster lies in embracing the ridiculousness of the situation. Watching the crew scramble to solve problems with almost no money and even less time becomes addictive. Whether it’s rewriting scenes moments before filming, improvising around practical limitations or attempting to create cinematic spectacle with what appears to be pocket change, there’s an infectious creativity on display. It’s impossible not to admire the sheer determination involved. It’s filmmaking with the safety rails completely removed. And it works. It’s popular and makes money.
We’re given candid interviews with the studio owners and workers, who clearly love what they do – and have no shame in what they create. The Asylum isn’t portrayed as cynical filmmakers chasing quick profits, but as being populated by people who genuinely love making movies, even if those movies occasionally involve giant sharks, improbable disasters or prehistoric monsters rendered on microscopic budgets. We learn how they write and make the films, getting to see their studios and insane process.
There’s plenty of heartwarming footage of Anthony from his childhood, his career and his future. We hear from his friends, family and some heroes. He’s honest about his work-life balance, becoming a father, and putting some aspirations aside as he navigates his responsibilities with his passions. It’s lovely to see how he walks into The Asylum and instantly becomes part of the furniture – after they make him watch an abundance of their movies.
Some of the funniest moments are when nobody involved seems particularly interested in pretending everything is under control. The documentary embraces imperfections, awkward and exhausted expressions and frantic last-minute decisions. There’s frustrations, arguments, (creative differences) and there’s something scary about the Aussie’s when they’re angry. But, these scenes feels refreshingly authentic in an age where behind-the-scenes documentaries often resemble carefully managed marketing campaigns.
Perhaps the documentary’s biggest achievement will be how it will completely change your perception of low-budget filmmaking. It’s easy to mock B-movies from the comfort of a sofa. It’s much harder to dismiss them after seeing the relentless work required to bring them into existence. Frith demonstrates that while budgets may be tiny, the passion behind them certainly isn’t.
If there’s a criticism, it’s that the documentary occasionally assumes viewers already understand the strange world of mockbusters. Those completely unfamiliar with The Asylum’s business model may find themselves wishing for a little more context before the production chaos begins. Likewise, some sections linger slightly longer than necessary on logistical challenges that will primarily fascinate aspiring filmmakers.
What stayed with me most wasn’t the comedy or even the filmmaking process. It was Frith himself. His excitement, self-doubt, optimism and determination – they really become the emotional engine driving the documentary. Anyone who has ever chased a creative dream, whether in film or elsewhere, will recognise that mixture of terror and exhilaration that comes from finally getting your opportunity and wondering if you’re about to completely blow it. In many ways, Mockbuster isn’t really about making a B-movie at all. It’s about refusing to let perfection become the enemy of actually creating something.
Funny, surprisingly moving and packed with genuine affection for independent filmmaking, Mockbuster is a delightful reminder that every film, no matter how gloriously ridiculous, begins with someone brave enough to say, “Let’s give this a shot.” And after spending ninety minutes in Anthony Frith’s company, you’ll never look at a mockbuster quite the same way again.
