by MATTHEW HAYS

Montreal filmmaker Larry Kent is finally getting his due, after being fêted by the Cinémathèque québécoise last year with an expansive retrospective (the same anthology of his films screened at Toronto's Cinematheque Ontario and Vancouver's Pacific Cinematheque earlier this year).

The first retrospective was prompted when the Cinémathèque québécoise found they had an original print of the uncut version of High, Kent's fourth feature, a drugged-out, adventurous film that is radical both in terms of form and content. The '67 film has two wayward souls wandering around Montreal and Toronto, busy ripping people off and indulging in all sorts of naughty sex and drugs. When the film was first to be shown at the now-defunct Montreal Film Festival, it was yanked by the Quebec censors, making it the artists' cause of the moment. Warren Beatty, Jean Renoir, Allan King and Fritz Lang all rushed to speak out in Kent's defence. It's an odd little bit of Canuck film history, and Kent deserves some kind of medal for making unique, against-the-grain independent movies in Canada, long before anyone had ever heard the names Egoyan, Cronenberg or Rozema. High screens this weekend as part of the Parc After Dark series, and comes warmly recommended from this critic. It unspools at 11:15 p.m. on Friday, Sept. 19 and Saturday, Sept. 20.

Also in the Parc After Dark department, local film freak extraordinaire Mitch Davis has booked Goke: Body Snatcher From Hell, the über-fucked up Japanese horror sci-fi mélange. This film features every bizarre nightmare you've ever had, crossed with every bad drug trip you've ever had. The film screens this weekend, so don't be missing it if you're into that sort of thing.

I'm proud to report that I was one of the depraved critics who lined up to witness The Brown Bunny, Vincent Gallo's film about shagging a few lady friends, last week at the Toronto International Film Festival. The film is rapidly becoming the cinematic conversation piece of the year, and, due to its entirely hardcore content, will almost certainly not end up with proper distribution in North America. Gallo has certainly made a name for himself with his absurd media antics. (He wished cancer upon Roger Ebert at Cannes after the Chicago Sun-Times critic panned the movie. Ebert would later announce that he indeed was being treated for a non-life-threatening form of cancer. Gallo said, through a publicist, that he was glad Ebert had cancer. Then Gallo said he'd been misquoted. But I digress.) But beyond all that, this is a film that has people talking, and the cinemas at the TIFF were jam-packed with gawkers who wanted to get a gander at Gallo's private part, and the now-famous scene in which Chloe Sevigny goes down on him. Yes, the film has been roundly trashed by many critics, but for my money, I thought it had some serious gusto. And some critics - most notably, those over at the Village Voice - have actually come to The Brown Bunny's defence, suggesting that there is something in its minimalism, something in what Gallo has concocted, that makes it worthwhile. That's why I'm seriously disappointed that the New Film Fest is reportedly not going to screen the film at their October event this year, despite Bunny's ultra-controversial status. Why would the New Film Fest, that last year brought us the sublime Ken Park - a film that still hasn't found distribution in North America due to its content - shy away from this movie? My theory is the New Film Fest's programmers were shaken up after seeing Gallo's massive member on screen, something that thrust them into a state of dire envy and shock, and thus couldn't bring themselves to show the film here. That is a crime - Montrealers should have a choice to see this wacky feature if they so desire, and festivals will probably be the only place they'll have such an opportunity.

Finally, local filmmaker Tristan Verboven will be presenting his most excellent doc, Once American, tonight, Sept. 18, at the Hungarian Social Club (3483 St-Laurent) at 8 p.m. Verboven interviews a cross-section of Hungarians - an actress, a millionaire, a Vietnam veteran, and a junkie - who've returned to their native Hungary after years in America. Verboven has assembled an impressive and unusual collection of people here, each with a story more fascinating than the last.

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