Perfumed Nightmare

Perfumed Nightmare Film Difficulty Ranking: 4

Honestly, I was a bit confused at the start of Perfumed Nightmare as the tone seemed a bit off. The film was made in 1977, but the black and white footage looks even older, so I was surprised to have the fourth wall broken a few times by the main character, Kidlat, after he pulls an increasingly larger toy truck over a bridge. The genre is also deliberately hard to pin down. It gives off the appearance of a stylish, amusing ethnographical film set in rural Philippines to disguise its strong revolutionary undertones. Don’t let anything put you off from watching this movie though as it’s a brilliantly unique and clever contribution to the Third Cinema movement.

From: Philippines, Asia
Watch: JustWatch, IMDb
Next: Black Girl, Breathless, Born in Flames

Perfumed Nightmare – The Breakdown

There are a lot of familiar elements in Perfumed Nightmare as it deliberately borrows from a mixture of well-known revolutionary film-making. The frenetic pace of the movie, with cuts across time and a fuzzy narrative voice that seems to be a half-second behind the images, feels a lot like Jean-Luc Godard’s iconic film, Breathless. The fast paced montages of Filipino and Parisian society, which meshes together a range of stock and new images showing the evolution of society towards modernization, borrows from Dziga Vertov’s influential Man with a Movie Camera. Both of these influences (each monumental to the development of European film) are referenced by the Director, Kidlat Tahimik, to stake a claim for Filipino film within the context of cinema and to also set Filipino film apart by reclaiming the medium’s portrayal of the Philippines.

One of the best things Kidlat Tahimik adds to the revolutionary film movement is humor. It both makes the film more enjoyable whilst also targeting the ‘Third World’s’ portrayal by ‘the West’ to reclaim it for the Third Cinema movement. One example of this is in the inventive use of dubbing, in which all of the film’s white characters, whether in the Philippines or Europe, are dubbed and made into comedic caricatures. One white person in the Philippines is turned into a bumbling, arrogant, imperialist, through the dubbing, whilst Kidlat’s French beneficiary is turned into a money obsessed businessman. Whilst it is fun to laugh at the dubbed characters, which makes the film an easier watch, the dubbing is also used to subvert the portrayal of Filipinos and other ‘Third World’ characters in Western film who are typically voiced and spoken for by white European/American directors. Instead, it’s the white characters that are spoken for in Perfumed Nightmare.

The film’s visual gags also serve a similar function. The shots of Kidlat filling up chewing gum dispensers in some ridiculous locations for his French beneficiary, whilst funny, also serves to make fun of capitalism. If chewing gum dispensers in cemeteries is the peak of Western progress, then capitalism and Western imperialism seems pointless. The humor is a welcome addition to an otherwise serious revolutionary genre. It makes the film easier to watch, but also backs up the central theme of Kidlat’s Charlie-Chaplin-esque journey chasing the American Dream; that life is better in the Philippines. Perfumed Nightmare mocks and rejects the progress of globalization, imperialism, capitalism, and everything the West stands for in favor of a celebration of Filipino life.

What to Watch Next

There’s a few places you can turn to next after watching Perfumed Nightmare. The most obvious place to go would be to watch more revolutionary films from the Third Cinema movement such as Ousmane Sembene’s Black Girl or Sarah Maldoror’s Sambizanga. You could also brush up on your European film history, which Kidlat Tahimik subverts in this film, by watching Breathless or Man with a Movie Camera. Obviously both of these film movements have plenty more examples than the four listed above, so please don’t limit your exploration to these four movies!

JuJu Stories

Last weekend, the 5th edition of the Nollywood in Hollywood film festival returned to Los Angeles for another brief showcase of the best Nigerian films from the past year. This year, the festival ran for two nights, screening Gone at the USC School of Cinematic Arts on Friday, before heading over to the West Side for Juju Stories at The Aero. Whilst we were only able to attend Saturday’s screening, we encourage all film fans to look out for Nollywood in Hollywood next year. Not only are the screening’s a brilliant showcase of new Nollywood films in a city that often overlooks the African film industries, but these screenings are free and very well hosted.

In many years of attending film festivals, Nollywood in Hollywood’s screening of Juju Stories was only the second which actually provided regional food to the entire audience ahead of the film. The other was a screening of Mohamed Al Daradji’s The Journey for the BFI Fest for which the Iraqi Embassy supplied Baklava to everyone attending. Whilst free food isn’t necessary to enjoy movies, it does add a memorable touch that will probably make you more open to whatever film you are about to see. From what we saw, the free meat pies, spring rolls, and puff puff excited a few attendants familiar with the foods, and made others more open to socializing to discover what the food was and to learn more about the event in the cinema lobby ahead of the film. It’s a great way to get an unfamiliar audience open to experiencing unfamiliar films.


Whilst ‘Nollywood’ has come to stand for all film production from Nigeria, Nollywood boomed in the late 1980’s/early 1990s with the arrival of the VHS system. VHS made filmmaking cheaper and therefore more accessible, allowing anyone (filmmaker or not) to have a go at making their own films. It also made it easier to distribute films, as VHS opened the home video market, meaning filmmakers didn’t have to have to make deals with theaters to get their films seen. Because VHS made it easier and cheaper to shoot films and get them seen, filmmaking in Nigeria exploded. At certain points in the 2000’s the Nollywood film industry was making an estimated 4 films a day! However, alongside the boom in production, the new face of Nigerian cinema faced a lot of criticism. Opening up the film industry to everyone loosened the standards of filmmaking as well as the themes. Many of the new Nollywood productions focused on witchcraft and juju, giving viewers a skewed view of Nigerian (and African) culture.

Juju Stories is an example of the current state of Nollywood film. As the focus of Nigerian film production has switched back to theatrical releases supported by larger budgets, the production standards have improved. Many Nollywood productions are now screened in cinemas at home or abroad, as well as reaching international film festivals and streaming platforms. Whilst the themes made popular in the Nollywood home-video era remain (such as witchcraft), the films look a lot better. Juju Stories is a great example of this. It includes three different stories shot by three different filmmakers from a Nigerian film collective that all touch on Juju. Each short is very well made, and the comedy fit the big screen environment perfectly. It reminded me of a screening of Argentina’s Wild Tales that I saw a while back in which one man, probably Argentinian, was cracking up throughout the film. Similarly, the audience at the Juju Stories screening was cracking up and shouting out at the characters on screen.

Unlike the Nollywood movies of the home-video era, today’s Nollywood films are at home on the big screen. So do yourself a favor and acquaint yourself with Nollywood at the Nollywood in Hollywood film festival next year to see Modern Nigerian film where it should be seen: on the big screen.


Keep an eye on the Nollywood in Hollywood website for details for next year’s festival.

By Sebastian Torrelio

Waltair Veeraayya

It is perhaps not the most original sentiment in the world to declare a Telugu blockbuster interesting for subverting its tone, audience & subject, yet Waltair Veerayya, the newest from Bobby Kolli, has a blast doing so in spades. Waltair (Chiranjeevi) is a smuggler, often apparently a fisherman, hired by state police to extradite Solomon Caesar (Bobby Simha), a drug kingpin wanted for the murder of a slew of local authorities. Waltair hunts Solomon using his veritible tricks of the trade library – including such tactics as, disguising oneself in the villain’s hotel, wearing extremely noticeable attire, and bumbling around an airport with the crew.

The trailer for Waltair Veerayya, which gives some semblance of how this concept is supposed to come across, is a never-ending barrage of action shots in various settings with our lead placed squarely in the middle, as if kicking his enemies off the barriers of the screen for nearly three hours. What the trailer doesn’t reveal is how disorienting Kolli keeps his layered gang novela: the initial sequence of Solomon’s entrance promises a brutal story of “the beast hunter” meeting his prey. What follows could not be more mistakable for a common Telugu comedy, our lead a scruffy, drunken weirdo making every inconceivably silly intention a happy accident for the trueness of law enforcement.

At its best, Chiranjeevi—an actor no stranger to notoriously strange cinematic environments, but digging himself well into a charismatically aged humor here—leads an ensemble that comes across as tried and practiced with the sort of genre-mixed kerfuffle Kolli wants to embrace. The baffling whiplash from playing pants-down-level punchlines smoothly into serious, spotlight-coordinated corruption busting should be a lot more strained than this, and Waltair Veerayya‘s first half might as well feel part miracle for not allowing the actors to fall into tonal abyss.

Post-intermission leaves a lot to be desired, a commonplace travel back in time to the roots of Waltair’s true enemy, and true origins, that rides action de résistance far more than the wholesomely juggled first half. Where boring plot characters are interjected for sustenance, an entirely jarring final minutes at least makes up for what Kolli seems to be going for – memorable accountability, in spite of wanting so earnestly to play out the class clown role for himself.

Seen at Cinemark 18 & XD, Los Angeles

Clashing Differences

In Clashing Differences an international women’s rights group based in Germany changes its original white-women led panel to avoid being ‘cancelled’. The updated panel however sees through their attempts to fulfill the diversity checklist in this satirical comedy.

It’s hard to get a satire right, especially when you’re satirizing topics that you can easily get wrong (such as racism), whilst keeping the tone light enough to maintain the comedy. Clashing Differences doesn’t get everything ‘right,’ but it is a pretty good attempt. The fourth-wall-breaking monologues from each character all pack a punch whilst conveying a wide range of experiences. It also always feels like the film is told from a multi-cultural perspective, by centering the non-White characters (bar-one) over white characters. That being said, the film does feel like it falls into its own trap. In trying to expose the tokenization of the multicultural characters it almost tokenizes the same characters. Each one of the characters covers a different multicultural reaction to their own tokenization.

However, the larger problem with Clashing Differences is the relationships between the characters. None of them get along through the majority of the film’s run time, clashing because of past relationships, and not just their ideas for confronting the international women’s group they’re there for. The only thing that ultimately brings them together are literal Nazis which gives viewers an out for thinking about all of the more subtle racism that the characters talk about beforehand (as Nazis always surpasses more subtle racism). It also feels like a tool to help end the film too.

Despite the convenient ending, Clashing Differences is still worth a watch. You’ll likely get some enjoyment from the satire of well-wishing white-led feminist groups and the drama fired up by conflicting views.

The Dog Who Wouldn't Be Quiet

Dogs are everywhere. Before the pandemic, ownership seemed to be rising. Everyone either had a dog or knew someone who did, whether it was a neighbor or a colleague who brought their dog into work. Now, with everyone stuck at home, they’ve become even more popular as companions for those living alone and friends for kids. They’re also still the small talk champions (perhaps even more so than babies). Nothing else can get a stranger talking to you better. It’s within this context that The Dog Who Wouldn’t Be Quiet kicks off.

Sebastian’s troubles start when he bumps into a neighbor in the courtyard outside his house, who starts complaining about the noises his dog makes. In what’s quite a funny scene, in an awkward way, Sebastian stands there, under his umbrella in the rain, nodding along to his neighbors monologue. Other neighbors turn up and add to his neighbors complaints and crowding the small courtyard. Right after that scene, Sebastian has a similarly awkward chat with his boss at work. They also don’t want his dog around, and like his neighbors, awkwardly avoid telling him directly.

Solving his troubles at home and work in one, Sebastian moves to the country for a happy life with his dog. But, things don’t end there, as the chain of events started by his less than silent dog keeps progressing. Amongst other things, we’re taken through Sebastian’s different jobs, a clandestine cooperative, and a sudden pandemic. It’s an oddball journey. However, despite how strange the events are to us, Sebastian goes along with them as if they’re completely normal. It’s like he’s resigned himself to the path his dog has placed him on.

His stoic face throughout all these surprises is what makes this film so quietly funny. In a way his role isn’t too dissimilar from the great silent movie comics like Buster Keaton and Charlie Chaplin. Whilst he doesn’t perform any stunts like them, the comedy of the film is created around his non-reaction to the things happening around him. Like Buster Keaton and Charlie Chaplin, Sebastian is the comedic fall guy for the movie. His misfortune and his acceptance of it exists for everyone to laugh at.

So, if you’re looking for another quietly funny Argentinian satire along the lines of Martin Rejtman (see The Magic Gloves) check out The Day the Dog Wouldn’t be Quiet.