For 20 years, the best collection of genre film experiences has been shared with the world in Austin, TX at Fantastic Fest. This beloved institution celebrates two solid decades surprising, entertaining and delighting festival goers, and you can be sure they always deliver the goods. Great credit goes to the organizers who not only set up the festival, but pick and choose from a number of dizzying, demented, and otherwise gonzo films. So let’s just say that if the staff says it’s worthwhile, then it is sure to please.
One such devilishly handsome, charming, and comedic entry into this year’s lineup is the world premiere of a shockingly good, hilariously crafted, and otherwise eyebrow-raising endeavor called Bad Haircut. It’s a straightforward genre flick; lean but not necessarily mean. Rather, like its main characters, it’s misunderstood. It also goes to show that a story can be simple and still fire on all cylinders.
In Kyle Misak’s timeless tale, we follow Billy (Spencer Harrison Levin) who, in an attempt to change his image and recover his dignity following a very emotional and uncool series of embarrassments at a party, simply goes to get a haircut. Maybe all he needs is just a little off the top. But that’s where the fun really begins. It’s precious, and like what you’d get if Little Golden Books made a grindhouse film featuring a dancing, haircutting, kidnapping psychopath.
And the man taking center stage in that role is Mick (Frankie Ray). Oh, he is such a treat. It’s tough to know where the character ends and the actor starts, but Misak gives us an unexpected and otherwise unthinkable combination of Buffalo Bill, Art the Clown, and Dee Snider. So, yeah, Mick is certainly among welcomed company at Fantastic Fest. For all intents and purposes, Mick is the star of the show and, as you’ll find out through exposition and plot development, he fancies himself as the leading man in his own movie. In an adorable way, he just wants to be loved…is that so wrong?
Mick isn’t a Joker-type, or a wordless shambling slasher, and to understand a character like his you have to put yourself in the mindset of the villain. Now I wouldn’t go so far as to give him that title exactly, but he certainly dips into some dirty deeds. As an antagonist, it’s rare that we get one who is self-aware, and knows why they do what they do. Mick is damaged – he will be the first to admit that – yet, at times, he has a kind of disarming kindness and is oddly charming (like the dog in Deadpool & Wolverine). Still, he’s very capable of killing when things don’t go his way. But ain’t he sweet?
As the story gets deeper, we find out Mick is behind the nefarious disappearances of teenagers in the area; all of this is taken through the lens of our everyday guy, Billy. And after meeting Mick, he is hilariously referred to as Brad (as in Pitt) for the rest of the runtime. Yet, as the slope gets ever more slippery, maybe having a Bob Ross style hairdo isn’t so bad. In the end though, whatever hairstyle you had in the beginning was the one you needed all along. It’s not often we get this kind of character growth at Fantastic Fest and that’s refreshing.
It goes without saying that with a title like Bad Haircut, the film does not take itself seriously. In so doing, it walks a really good line between horror and humor. But the film is more focused on the latter as there are some definite callbacks and framework to something like Austin Powers. This also tries to exist in Pretty Woman territory. Yet instead of a hooker with a heart of gold, we are treated to a memorable and notable psycho who also likes weird ass music, weird ass movies, and all the drugs.
What props this whole effort up – aside from the jokes and dialogue – is the collection of well-placed source music which dovetails into some choreography and dancing. That and some chef’s kiss editing bring it all home. There are unexpected jump scares which are effective, but not nightmare fuel. Bad Haircut exists in a world inspired by Spielberg which is to say it is just a hair above PG-13 level peril; the turmoil is repeatedly undercut by brilliant gags, absurd but lovable characters, and dialogue delivered with a wink. If you were to ask the Magic 8-Ball if the fun factor is high, it would read: “It Is Decidedly So.“
