BOHICA

Police raid the New York City apartment of chronic lawsuit defendant Sam Epstein and discover a pile of corpses (including a cop), devil-worship paraphernalia, drugs and a pistol. Cults? Terrorism? Insanity? Close, but no. Filmmaking. BOHICA is a sidesplitting mock-documentary about how movie mania made one poor mensch a mass-murderer, as we watch cocky tyro director Sam trying to realize his first feature script “Act Like a Man.” Donning the requisite ascot and sunglasses, Sam embarks on shooting the chintzy opus largely in and around the spacious NYC walkup he shares with two problematic roommates. Trevor is a dissolute surgeon from the UK for whom life is one nonstop, intoxicating party after another, with occasional breaks for the operating room. Then there's Chip, a fellow film nut who can't help but try and one-up Sam Epstein at every turn, with his tall tales of big deals with “Minimax Pictures” out in Hollywood. Not helping matters either are Sam's contentious relationships with the disloyal, easily-corrupted shooting crew (led by a take-charge cinematographer who frequently usurps Sam's authority), plus the auteur's personal feelings for his leading lady, Janus, who in turn is attracted to…Chip. In the manner of “Living in Oblivion,” “A Little Stiff” (15th CIFF 1991) and “Waiting for Guffman” (21st CIFF 1997) comes a tart spoof on When Cinema Attacks, shot in Cleveland by a new line of homegrown talent, whose paramount gripes about the motion-picture industry are universal.