Kaboom: Cult

For many Ralph Bakshi’s The Lord of the Rings (1978) brings back memories of dingy copies on VHS and as an adaptation of J.R.R. Tolkien’s trilogy, Bakshi’s version is often unfavorably compared to Peter Jackson’s monster hit of an adaptation. Bakshi’s version will always be the one that remains unfinished, as well as the one vilified by animation lovers for its use of rotoscope. When it was first released, Bakshi was mostly known for his low budget, adult-oriented films like Fritz the Cat (1972) and Heavy Traffic (1973). Yet, Bakshi’s The Lord of the Rings is ready for a reappraisal: for one, Bakshi achieved what other directors like Walt Disney, John Boorman and even Stanley Kubrick could not achieve: to adapt Tolkien’s wordy, sprawling epic with its hundreds of characters, numerous locations and many references to medieval epics and sagas for the big screen.

While Bakshi had been interested in Tolkien’s novel series since its first publication in the mid-1950s, it took until 1975 before he was able to convince United Artists that only in animation could the epic really come to life. Bakshi found himself supported in this by Saul Zaentz who had recently adapted another book often considered unfilmable: Ken Kesey’s One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest, which won five Oscars.

To adapt Tolkien’s book, Bakshi had to overcome various financial and technical hurdles, for one the large battle scenes that feature in it that were difficult to animate. To resolve this Bakshi opted for rotoscope, which he had first experimented with in his previous film Wizards (1977). Accordingly, Bakshi first filmed much of The Lord of the Rings with actors on videotape, to use as reference material for the animators. Since money was tight and no medieval castles existed in North America, this footage was recorded in Spain. The result is a unique animation style that has as many imitators as it has detractors. Peter Jackson certainly looked at Bakshi’s adaptation well when preparing for his version of Tolkien’s book and has acknowledged that several scenes were borrowed from Bakshi’s film.

Now remastered, it is finally time to experience Bakshi’s The Lord of the Rings on the big screen in its full glory.

The wrath of an author in crisis won't spare his creations. And to avoid being eaten by the pop, the punk must face his creator...

No feature film embraces the Kaboom craziness as Cesar Cabral's Bob Spit - We Do Not Like People. Welcome to an ultrameta and foul-mouthed stop-motion animation film where an old, angry punk named Bob Spit is trying to escape a post-apocalyptic desert full of grotesque characters, including feral miniature Elton Johns with sharp teeth (it's quite literally pop trying to kill punk). Wait, it gets better: the wasteland is actually a purgatory inside the mind of Bob's creator, Angeli, a stubborn cartoonist going through a creative crisis.

Mixing documentary, comedy and road movie, Cabral's hallucinatory voyage into the conflict between creator and creation is not even entirely fictitious! The story is inspired by the life and work of one of the most celebrated Brazilian cartoonists of all time, Angeli. He became famous in the 70s by releasing political cartoons during Brazil's military dictatorship. Angeli's characters - and one in particular: Bob Spit, a rude ogre-like punk with an impressive mohawk - became more famous than himself. And when Angeli decided to move on and bury Bob, fans were asking for more, which left the cartoonist struggling with his creation. 

Building on a short film and a TV series, the film is a weird, post-modern, even philosophical rollercoaster embracing the subversive, countercultural and anarchic spirit of Angeli's original cartoons. The question remains: can Bob escape Angeli's brain and teach him a lesson for killing him off? Bob Spit - We Do Not Like People won the Contrechamp Award at the Annecy Festival. Strap in for a bizarre cocktail that finally proves ... Punk is not dead!

If there is one filmmaker who proves that animation does not need vast budgets, star voice actors, bespoke soundtracks by pop icons, A-level special effects or big distribution budgets, it is Don Hertzfeldt.

Hertzfeldt’s early films like Billy’s Balloon (1998, one of his student films) and The Meaning of Life (2005) were made with
thousands of crude pencil drawings, proudly resisting the dominance of computer animation at the time. Hertzfeldt also operated outside of the traditional distribution system: fans of his work saw these films through DVD bootlegs and poor-quality internet uploads. Together with his later films like the World of Tomorrow trilogy (2017-2020), the films cemented Hertzfeldt’s position as the king of American indie animation, a kind of anti-Disney, who turned his aversion to making commissioned work into the hilarious black comedy Rejected (2000).

In 2012, Hertzfeldt presented a feature film edit of his short film trilogy Everything Will Be OK (2006), I Am So Proud of You (2008) and It’s Such a Beautiful Day (2011). In the feature film we follow Bill, a man struck down by a mysterious disease and haunted by his family’s history. As Bill struggles to understand his life and, potentially, his imminent death, Hertzfeldt pushes animation into a philosophical dimension it rarely enters. Hertzfeldt’s own deadpan narration, black humor and use of split screen and in-camera effects continuously walk a careful line between laughter and tears, creating a unique film experience.

Often included on lists of the best animated feature films of all time, It’s Such a Beautiful Day is a film to be savored on the big screen.

Ready, set, go! In 2003, Sylvain Chomet (The Illusionist, A Magnificent Life) made his first feature film with The Triplets of Belleville and it was an instant hit. Looking back, it is not hard to see why: who could not like a film that combines the Tour de France, mobsters driving a classic Citroën, great swing jazz and an art style so finger-licking good that it spurred a whole range of imitators? 

Before The Triplets of Belleville, Chomet was mostly known for his 1997 short film The Old Lady and the Pigeons, which should be compulsory watching for everyone living in a city in which the titular grey-plumed birds form a plague. With Triplets Chomet showed that his unique style of design and directing worked equally well in a feature-length film. Madame Souza’s quest to recover her kidnapped grandson, her loving dog Bruno and the 1930s music hall singers the film is named after make for a unique mix of Francophile nostalgia that is yet to be surpassed. Chomet would go on to direct The Illusionist, based on an unfinished script by Jacques Tati, and would also apply his hallmark style to a Simpsons couch gag in 2014.

Come and join us for this unique ride to the city of Belleville!

A kaleidoscopic fusion of music, movement, and emotion, Bubble Bath (Habfürdő, 1980) is György Kovásznai’s dazzling animated musical, restored in 4K to its full pulsating glory. Set in Budapest, it follows a man who flees his own wedding to confide in another woman, unfolding a restless love triangle that beats to the rhythm of a human heart. Blending romantic comedy, sociological observation, and surreal visual play, Kovásznai creates a film that feels as alive and unpredictable as its characters. Upon release, its raw energy and adult sensibility scandalized audiences, leading to its brief removal from cinemas. Decades later, Bubble Bath stands as a vibrant masterpiece of European animation—wild, sensual, and utterly ahead of its time.

A silent man in a steampunk outfit is lowered into a subterranean world populated by monsters and their sidekicks. The man disposes of them one by one, in gruesome ways. With virtually no dialogue or real story, VFX-legend Phil Tippett creates a visually stunning, nightmarish world.

His creature design, character animation and stop-motion work on films like Star Wars, RoboCop, Jurassic Park and Starship Troopers, earned Phil Tippett legendary status in Hollywood. During the making of Robocop 2 he began working on this passion project Mad God, which he finally completed after nearly thirty. Tippett uses his virtuosity in stop motion to create a hellish underground journey, influenced by steampunk, Dante and Hiëronymus Bosch. Cruelty is the norm in this chaotic, dystopian world, with nothing but contempt for fellow humans and nature. Tippett’s visual fireworks combined with Dan Wool’s music make Mad God an onslaught on the senses.

This is a full-length cartoon movie featuring the dim-witted obnoxious loser teens, Beavis and Butt-head. They are obsessed with sex, TV, heavy-metal rock ’n roll, sex, coolness and sex, in that order. The trouble begins when the couch-potato duo’s beloved television disappears (they assume it was stolen). In the course of trying to get another TV, they get involved in a major arms-smuggling scheme and are chased all over the U.S. by mobsters and lawmen alike. In one of the movie’s highlights, Butt-head tries to get Chelsea Clinton to go to bed with him. Apparently he believes that since they both wear braces, she will naturally want to have sex with him.

First feature film by Jan Svankmajer, master of the Czech surrealist animation film and source of inspiration for directors like Tim Burton and Terry Gilliam. Adaptation of Lewis Carroll’s famous novel Alice in Wonderland in a sinister combination of animated puppets and live action. Alice ends up in a miraculous world when she follows a talking rabbit into a table drawer. She meets all sorts of strange creatures and peculiar characters, in a world between dream and nightmare. In Svankmajer’s hands, Wonderland becomes more wondrous than ever before. And with its dark overtones, it is no longer purely a children’s story. 

Ralph Bakshi’s Fritz the Cat (1972) is a groundbreaking, X-rated animated film that satirizes American counterculture with sharp wit and provocative themes. Based on Robert Crumb’s underground comic, it follows Fritz, a hedonistic cat navigating the chaotic world of sex, drugs, and political unrest in 1960s America. The film’s bold, hand-drawn animation style and raw social commentary set it apart from traditional animation, challenging the notion that cartoons are just for kids. Controversial upon release, Fritz the Cat became a cult classic and a landmark in adult animation. Over 50 years later, its anarchic spirit and biting satire remain as striking as ever.

A cult classic of adult animation, Heavy Metal (1981) is a kaleidoscopic journey into sci-fi and fantasy, based on the stories from the eponymous magazine. It weaves together multiple tales, all linked by the glowing green orb called the Loc-Nar, which embodies ultimate evil. Featuring groundbreaking animation for its time, the film also boasts a hard-hitting soundtrack with tracks from Black Sabbath, Blue Öyster Cult, and more. Its blend of surreal visuals, mature themes, and rock music helped define it as a cultural touchstone of the ’80s. Despite mixed reviews upon release, it has since become a beloved gem for fans of experimental and edgy animation.

This engaging stop-motion, claymation adventure tells the story of an American rooster who falls in love with a gorgeous hen on a British farm. The couple decides to run away from the farm, but they must first contend with the evil farmer who is intent on keeping them under her control. The chickens decide to attempt an escape so they don’t get turned into chicken pot pies.

For many Ralph Bakshi’s The Lord of the Rings (1978) brings back memories of dingy copies on VHS and as an adaptation of J.R.R. Tolkien’s trilogy, Bakshi’s version is often unfavorably compared to Peter Jackson’s monster hit of an adaptation. Bakshi’s version will always be the one that remains unfinished, as well as the one vilified by animation lovers for its use of rotoscope. When it was first released, Bakshi was mostly known for his low budget, adult-oriented films like Fritz the Cat (1972) and Heavy Traffic (1973). Yet, Bakshi’s The Lord of the Rings is ready for a reappraisal: for one, Bakshi achieved what other directors like Walt Disney, John Boorman and even Stanley Kubrick could not achieve: to adapt Tolkien’s wordy, sprawling epic with its hundreds of characters, numerous locations and many references to medieval epics and sagas for the big screen.

While Bakshi had been interested in Tolkien’s novel series since its first publication in the mid-1950s, it took until 1975 before he was able to convince United Artists that only in animation could the epic really come to life. Bakshi found himself supported in this by Saul Zaentz who had recently adapted another book often considered unfilmable: Ken Kesey’s One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest, which won five Oscars.

To adapt Tolkien’s book, Bakshi had to overcome various financial and technical hurdles, for one the large battle scenes that feature in it that were difficult to animate. To resolve this Bakshi opted for rotoscope, which he had first experimented with in his previous film Wizards (1977). Accordingly, Bakshi first filmed much of The Lord of the Rings with actors on videotape, to use as reference material for the animators. Since money was tight and no medieval castles existed in North America, this footage was recorded in Spain. The result is a unique animation style that has as many imitators as it has detractors. Peter Jackson certainly looked at Bakshi’s adaptation well when preparing for his version of Tolkien’s book and has acknowledged that several scenes were borrowed from Bakshi’s film.

Now remastered, it is finally time to experience Bakshi’s The Lord of the Rings on the big screen in its full glory.

Arguably one of the greatest animated films of all time, Marcell Jankovics' cutting-edge masterpiece is an adaptation of the ancient legends of the early nomadic Steppe people. The film has a rather special position in the history of animated film, because it can be best described as an abstract version of tales, both in its visual representation and its storytelling. Being a radical example of the ornamental style, the film produces a dreamlike visual world, which is created from the continuous presence of metamorphoses, changing of colours, and recurring images of lightnings, shatters, and mandala. Son of the White Mare is quite simply: a trip through myths and folklore!