Media Credit: Courtesy of Poultrygeist productions

Media Credit: Courtesy of Poultrygeist productions

The mediocrity of Tinseltown is the standard when it comes to film.

Barf bags are required at the Academy Awards, where the nauseous air of self-congratulation is inescapable even as grand honors are given to kitsch such as "Titanic" and tepid, holier-than-thou "statements" such as "Crash." Yeah, love is sweet and bigotry is bad. Anything else?

This month there's a sequel to "National Treasure," starring Nicolas Cage's haircut, and yet another collaboration, "Sweeney Todd," between Johnny Depp and Tim Burton from the "it-seemed-like-a-good-idea-because-I-was-real-screwed-up-at-the-time" school of filmmaking.

Oh yeah, and Fox is an independent film company.

I don't have to belabor the point here: Hollywood is a town bankrupt of ideas, courage and passion, and it's populated by hucksters, cowards and big money.

There is some respite. But first, a story:

In my younger and more vulnerable years, I often snuck peaks at the "Midnight" section of Bergeron's, the independent video store that served east Fort Worth until Blockbuster.

That's where they kept the skin flicks, the "Easy Rider" series, the X-rated animated "Heavy Traffic" - the good stuff. As a pre-pubescent, I maneuvered around that section of the store with awe and apprehension until once, when I was 7 or 8, I asked my parents to rent "The Toxic Avenger." They said no.

On that day, a fan was born. Enter Troma, the antidote to Hollywood.

Troma Entertainment is the longest-running independent film studio in the world. Since 1974, Troma has been producing and distributing some of the freshest and most adventurous films with an unqualified influence on directors such as Eli Roth, Quentin Tarantino, Peter Jackson, Guillermo del Toro and Takashi Miike.

While Robert Redford and his corporate sponsors pretend to give a damn about independent film, Troma hosts the TromaDance Film Festival, a more egalitarian affair than Sundance, where filmmakers are not only free from worrying about being overshadowed by million-dollar "independent" studio releases, but they don't have to pay an entry fee.

Troma's releases tend to be blood-splattered, gut-strangled, breast-heavy and politically incorrect, leading laypersons and snobs to relegate them to "B-movie" status. But where narrow-minded bigots see shock, schlock and low-brow humor, those of us with bold sentiments see beauty.

Troma is not the highest of the low nor high made out of the low. Troma is art molded and plied beyond lazy, obtuse definitions.

Troma is pure creativity and fun at breakneck speeds, covered in soda-fountain blood and UltraSlime.

Troma is absolute intellect and subversion filled with gratuitous and obligatory tit shots and the occasional penis monster.

Troma's library holds some of the most clever, enterprising ideas slapped onto celluloid - right next to the same recycled car crash used in every film.

It's simple: If you have an honest appreciation for art or cinema, then Troma ought to be near and dear to your heart.

As for Lloyd Kaufman, the "straight-laced lunatic" who is also Troma's spokesman and co-founder, he stands shoulder-to-shoulder with Lenny Bruce, Robert Frost and the beloved director John Ford.

Troma's latest production, "Poultrygeist: Night of the Chicken Dead" is yet another salvo cum lifeboat sent into the boring world of film. It opens in Austin this Friday at the Alamo Drafthouse Lake Creek. The 7 p.m. show will be the regional premiere of "Poultrygeist" and includes a Q-and-A session with director Lloyd Kaufman.

What's "Poultrygeist" about? Briefly: fatal fast food, licentious lesbians, American Indians, hypocrites of all stripes being taken to the blade - or beak - of hilarity as vengeance comes feathered in absurdity.

Stephen Holden, a reviewer for The New York Times for more than 35 years, once wrote you have to be intelligent to get Troma. It's true. The following need not apply:

Paul Thomas Anderson understudies with art school pretensions - they ought to stick to fare that is very serious and very boring. Feminists, die-cut liberals and the rest of the holier-than-thou clique of eager-to-be-offended temperaments are better off sitting at home and bemoaning the preponderance of sex and violence with their drunken Baptist pals.

On second thought, scratch that.

Boring film students, myopic feminists, squeamish liberals, repressed conservatives - people in general - are exactly the ones who need to see Troma's latest masterpiece in all its glory.

At this stage in the American experience, Troma is vital. More than just a middle finger to the Man, Troma is an exploding spleen in the fat face of

complacency.

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