Fantastic Fest ’23: Weston Razooli builds a world to get lost in with Riddle of Fire, a loving ode to childhood adventure
Courtesy of Fantastic Fest
This is part of our coverage of new genre films premiering at Austin’s Fantastic Fest.
Trends in movies and television usually burn themselves out within a few years, with the seeming exception of 80s nostalgia. For two decades pop culture has mined as much entertainment fodder as they could from that period. Often, the result is projects that focus on imagery from the era and mistake references for dramatic authenticity.
Fortunately, that’s not the case with writer-director Weston Razooli’s Riddle of Fire. This inventive and sweet magical comedy is a fun trip down memory lane, happily anchored by winning performances that radiate natural energy. That Razooli has managed to do all that in just his first feature is the cherry on top.
Deep in the wilds of rural Wyoming, three pre-teen ruffians armed with paintball guns explore the countryside on motorbikes, looking for trouble. Alice (Phoebe Ferro), Hazel (Charlie Stover), and Jodie (Skyler Peters), have their hearts set on obtaining a new gaming system, Angel. Since they lack the funds to buy one, they “liberate” a unit from the local warehouse, before running home. The kids are excited about their prized booty, but there’s a problem: Jodie and Hazel’s mother put a parental lock on the TV. To procure the password from mom, who’s sick in bed with a cold, they must fetch her a blueberry pie. That sets the kids out on an epic quest.
During their quest, the kids must appease a baker, find a perfectly speckled egg, deal with one of their own getting drunk, and find themselves at the mercy of a speakeasy owner. Their biggest hurdle comes when they cross paths with a group called The Enchanted Blade, lorded over by the matriarch Anna-Freya (Lio Tipton) and her right-hand man John Redrye (Charles Hanford). Of course, things get even more complicated when Anna-Freya’s daughter Petal (Lorelei Olivia Mote) befriends Alice, Hazel and Jodie.
Riddle of Fire announces itself as something different from its opening. The picture itself, filmed in 16mm, has a hazy look to it that somehow feels of its time and simultaneously outside of it. That creates a sense of heightened reality without ruining the suspension of disbelief. That approach extends to the personalities of the kids, who each have their roles in the gang. Alice is the leader, Hazel the muscle, and Jodie the wild card.
The main thing that manages to set Riddle of Fire apart from various imitators, however, is that it lets its pre-pubescent heroes simply be kids. There’s no manufactured camaraderie trying to ape Goonies vibes, a la Stranger Things. These kids are messy. Alice raises her voice to sound more in command. Petal has the eager playfulness of a kid raised by absentee parents. Hazel is in a constant state of bewilderment that can only come from that awkward pre-teen middle stage.
Riddle of Fire is filled with plucky creativity, heart and a love of cinema that compels you to share it with others. It’s a reminder of why we fall in love with movies to begin with — to be transported to a place outside of our own for a little while. To watch it is to love its rough-around-the-edges characters and the recognizable but curious world they inhabit. Just maybe, after you’ve finished it, it’ll help you look at your own surroundings a little differently.
