No wonder they don't sell popcorn. If you're headed for the New York Underground Film Festival, you might want to make sure your stomach is empty. "One guy ran out of the theater during Impact Zone and started puking", says Ed Halter, festival programmer, of the short by Kadet Kuhne and Sophie Constantinou which went on to win "Best Experimental Film". His tone is unapologetic; in fact, he sounds proud. Smiling, he adds, "Yeah, well, it was some guy in a suit. Fuck 'em if they're not prepared to see lesbians masturbating with 'The Club'!"

This happily pugnacious approach was evident in all key areas of the festival, from the program cover photo (a shot of two leather-clad women, one gazing fondly at a bound and leashed male while the other one films the action) to the festival directors (the only statement that codirector Todd Phillips jokingly agreed to give me for this piece was about how and why a colleague of mine, whom he feels has been less than helpful, is banned from all future festival screenings) and its volunteers ("Showing these films is a necessary evil", insisted one). Fitting in with the less-than-reverent spirit were some inspired shorts, including Darren Hacker's Velvet Welk which combined footage of the Lawrence Welk Orchestra with music from the Velvet Underground to reveal a deep synchrony between the groups, Steve Reinke's Seventeen Descriptions, in which an unseen male narrator offered conjecture about the sex lives of random men on a city street as he watched them pass obliviously by ("This guy has masturbated within the last 20 minutes. This one can come from anal stimulation"), and Julie Gaw's Fuck-Shit, a deeply gratifying three minutes of impassioned cursing.

Filmmakers Jane Wagner and Tina DiFeliciantonio displayed some fierceness of their own simply by showing up to screen their film, the provocative and moving Girls Like Us, after the film had won the Grand Jury Documentary Prize at Sundance '97. "People asked us why we were bringing our film to this festival," Wagner said, "and we asked them why we shouldn't. If something is less famous than Sundance, so what? Does that mean it isn't a good festival or a good opportunity? We're glad to be here."

Documentary has traditionally been a strong category for this festival. Its selections this year were solid and, in a few instances, hilarious. Among these was Heavy Metal Parking Lot, by videomaker Jeff Krulik. Shot in a stadium parking lot just before a 1986 Dokken/Judas Priest concert, the film is so on-target in its rendering of the scene that one can almost smell a potpourri of beer, pot, and puke hanging heavy in the air; it'll take you right back to your teen years, whether you want to revisit them or not. (Krulik's "sequel" to Heavy Metal, Neil Diamond Parking Lot, was equally on target, if a bit more sedate.) Meanwhile, Sam Green's fascinating The Rainbow Man/John 3:16, this year's winner for "Best Documentary", captivated its viewers and was an often-discussed festival high point. And speaking of high points, Doug Wolens' engaging Weed, filmed in Amsterdam at the annual Cannabis Cup and Hemp Expo, attracted crowds of viewers who, in honor of the screening, showed up with telltale vague grins and bleary eyes.

At the risk of securing myself a place on Todd Phillip's shit list, I have to say that the overall character of this festival isn't really as in-your-face tough as its program or staff would have you believe. Not all of the films shown really feature mocking, fucking, cursing, bleeding or puking (on or off screen), and not all of the organizers' statements are disses. Yes, the gory short Meat was screened this year ("Someone in the audience passed out during that one!" Halter told me gleefully), and so was David Cronenberg's 1975 first feature, Shivers, which managed to be both gruesome and dull. But then there were films--Girls Like Us, for example, or NYC-Symphony, a haunting experimental short by Reynold Reynolds--which, rather than making people faint or puke, would be more likely to make them cry. And even some of the more shock-oriented pieces handled their subjects with grace and good humor. Among these was Olga Schubert's documentary Of Skin and Metal, which examines the growing phenomenon of body piercing in the U.S.

With capacity crowds and lots of favorable media coverage, is the festival worried about growing tamer and less balls-laden as time passes? "I don't feel like that's happening or going to happen", Halter states. Pointing out that edgier, less conventional films have been favorites recently at some world-renowned festivals, he adds, "It seems like the mainstream festival circuit is being influenced by festivals like ours, rather than the other way around."

While the Underground Festival remains a vital and popular event, it has lost many of its corporate sponsors over the years; nevertheless, it plans to pick up some of the slack with FilmCore, an organization launched at this year's Fest to present year-round screenings, concerts and related events. "People were coming to me and saying, 'I thought I was the only one making films like this,'" Halter says. "We wanted to do something that would bring filmmakers together and help to strengthen the underground film community." And FilmCore is putting money where its mouth is with a postproduction fund to help foster the kind of work the festival has become known for. As Halter puts it, "We're doing good things for bad people." (For more information about the fund or for applications for next year's festival, call (212) 925-3440 or e-mail: festival@nyuff.com.)

The Cannes Film Festival by Noah Cowan
The Los Angeles Independent Film Festival by Michael Jones
The New York Underground Film Festival by Pamela Grossman
SXSW Film Festival by Holly Willis
San Francisco International Film Festival by Isabel Sadurni
Aspen Shortsfest by Holly Willis
Gen Art Film Festival by Adam Pincus