ABCs of Death: Bite-Sized Terrors

S is for Spontaneous Human Combustion.

Were I one of the 26 directors assigned to make a short film involving a form of death beginning with 1 of the 26 letters of the alphabet for The ABCs of Death, I'd hope to be given S so that I could create a film in which my main character dies of spontaneous human combustion, a rare and disputed form of expiration that has intrigued me ever since I was a kid. In my film, the protagonist would make his way through a hectic day, narrowly avoiding all sorts of potentially fatal S-related red herrings—slipping on a wet floor, getting bit by a spider, just stepping out of the way of a speeding car—until, upon settling down to unwind that evening, he spontaneously bursts into flames.

I bring up my thought process because, to some extent, all 26 directors (well, 28 if you factor in that "Q is for Quack" and "O is for Orgasm" were both directed by duos) began their journeys of creating their alphabet-themed shorts with the same basic creative confines—here's a letter, now come up with a method of dying beginning with said letter. It's that simple.

What results is an anthology film unlike any other, bringing together some of the premier names in independent genre filmmaking from 15 countries spread across 5 continents. Clocking in at just a shade over 2 hours, each filmmaker has an average of about 4 minutes to grab your attention by any means necessary and with a gamut of directors such as Ben Wheatley (Kill List), Ti West (The Innkeepers), Xavier Gens (Frontier(s)), Noboru Iguchi (Machine Girl) and Srdjan Spasojevic (A Serbian Film) calling the shots, I do mean "any."

Representing perhaps the widest swath of cultures and artistic sensibilities that you'll see collected on screen this year, The ABCs of Death utilizes just about every genre it can to tantalize, disturb, provoke, unsettle, engage and infuriate the audience en route to the demise of a protagonist that is sometimes funny, sometimes clever, sometimes graphic, but always imminent. With 28 different names dispensing 26 different forms of death, it's a guarantee that everyone will find segments they like and segments they dislike. Indeed, with such a short amount of time for each filmmaker to grab your attention, the majority of the segments within The ABCs of Death rely on the immediately visceral to burn a memory into your brain. Segments like "R is for Removed" and "I is for Ingrown" are slickly shot and violent enough to make the average viewer cringe, but their superficial shock value represents more of what horror is known for rather than what it has the power to do.

Yet some of the other filmmakers are able to step up to the short form challenge with segments that utilize excellence in execution, a defying of audience expectations and an expert comprehension in how horror can comment on the tragedy of life unlike any other genre. There might not be anything particularly deep about Nacho Vigalondo's "A is for Apocalypse" or Marcel Sarmiento's "D is for Dog," but if you're not laughing at the former's slapstick violence, then perhaps you'd marvel at the deliberate direction and satisfying twist of the latter. Not impressed by either of those? Wait a little bit longer and perhaps you'll find something hysterical about Iguchi's "F is for Fart" or something shocking in the brevity of Ti West's "M is for Miscarriage."

Perhaps the absolute best segments of The ABCs of Deathare those that marry both the best and the worst of horror, emphasizing the elements that shock in the service of those that educate. Xavier Gens, a familiar name amongst fans of the New French Extremity movement, combines an overweight girl and an electric turkey carver to use his film as a statement about the societal pressure on women to look thin and "beautiful." A bit earlier in the film, relatively unknown director Timo Tjahjanto crafts what is, for my money, the most unforgettably disturbing segment of the whole anthology while taking a look at the inescapable consequences of sexual perversion. Scattered throughout are also looks into the scars brought on by poverty, pedophilia and drug abuse. Yes, some of the directors attempt to shock you because that's the only tool in their arsenal, but shocking does not necessarily entail shallow.

Granted, none of these segments are going to have the staying power of a feature length film and with such a diverse mix of filmmakers, moods and aesthetics, chances are viewers will find more to dislike than to like, with the good only able to elevate the bad so much. Still, despite what ultimately averages out to just an alright film, The ABCs of Death is still worth a watch because of its ambition and creativity.