A self-described “mumblegore” film, Vick & Tarstar’s Scarecrow Factory has all of the hallmarks of classic mumblecore but draped in a horror-soaked style that only director Brewce Longo could pull off. The opening title sequence gives the audience an idea of what’s to come, featuring a heavy metal score and stop motion animation of maggots, images just gross enough to suck you in.
Clearly inspired by Longo’s time on-set making movies, it tells the story of a group of friends shooting a film about a factory making scarecrows who give their owners haircuts while they sleep. But the ultimate focus is really what’s happening behind-the-scenes. The film’s lack of funding requires the crew to go dumpster diving for meals. The directors Vick (Longo) and Tarstar (Gaby Bogdanoff) are both plagued by crippling fetishes. But at the center of it all, Vick’s girlfriend Shelly (Nicole Elyse) storms off set, forcing Vick to spend the film trying to win her back. It’s a relationship drama wrapped in a sick, twisted, absurdist package.
“… a group of friends shooting a film about a factory making scarecrows …”
The film’s greatest strength is its screenplay, which borders on the edge of farcical for most of its runtime. It’s incredibly funny but still grounded in its terrifying roots, providing gruesome moments of body horror that will make your stomach churn. That balance between humor and shock is where the film excels. You never quite know what you’ll see next. The world Longo has crafted is satisfyingly odd, from the unsettling scabs on the back of everyone’s hands to the film within the film, which features dialogue so nonsensical, you’ll wonder if you’re having a stroke. It steers clear of a traditional storytelling structure, opting instead for a slice-of-life approach that takes you inside a few days on-set. The narrative approach combined with its improvisational nature gives the film a casual feel, as if you’re actually sitting there with the crew observing the chaos.
Vick & Tarstar’s Scarecrow Factory explores what it’s like to make a film with friends. In a way, it’s a love letter to low-budget filmmaking but also a depiction of the bittersweet realities of the process. When the film’s premiere comes around, Vick waits outside the theater for the crew before realizing that they’ve all moved onto other projects. The magic from the experience is gone and all that remains is the final product, a subtle reminder of that time they shared. But the beauty of filmmaking is that there’s always another project waiting around the corner.
"…humor and shock is where the film excels"
