Humor and horror have always shared a border, and the second set of program of fantastic competition films gleefully crosses it. The films here have in them something strange, absurd and grotesque. Often they crisscross as filmmakers challenge the genres, sometimes consciously; at times, not. The stories here remind us that sometimes laughter can sharpen fear and that the joke may be on you so here's a cliché warning: be prepared for the unexpected.
 

‘Dagon’ reimagines Lovecraft’s cult tale through stop-motion, pulling us into the mind of a man on the edge haunted by his encounter with a godlike sea creature. Memory and madness mingle in intricate, tactile frames.
 

Pleasure takes center stage In ‘She and Her Good Vibrations’ until it starts to blur the boundaries of reality. What begins with a playful premise slips into something more disorienting.
 

‘Parking Area’ is devoid of animated gimmicks. A seemingly mundane late-night stop becomes a moment suspended into the unknown.

With quiet charm , ‘A Pleasure’ elevates the trivial into something engaging. It turns its gaze to the small, often unspoken delights of daily life.
 

‘An Artist’s Curse’ layers psychological terror onto the act of creation. A child’s drawings hide a predator, and the shadows they cast stretch far into adulthood. There’s a seemingly disturbing intimacy between motherhood, trauma and art.
 

In ‘Vivid’, workplace humiliation drives a desperate intern into the arms of forbidden magic. The film gambles with morality, ambition and the temptation to let darkness do bidding.
 

‘The A to Z of Being an Excellent Kid’ offers a playful fable about good behavior and bad influence, though its lesson may not be as straightforward as it first appears.

‘Uncertainty Principle’ imagines survival in a post-apocalyptic wasteland where the rules of presence and absence are never certain. Following Nel’s search for Dàlia, who flickers in and out of existence, the film unfolds as a meditation on grief, intimacy and the unsteady ground we call reality. 

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The vampire in ‘Vivir’ is less monster than mirror, offering the artist a refracted view of her own life. It begins with despair and ends in an unexpected offer. Talk about silent twists.
 

And in Bath Bomb, romance curdles in a tub scented with malice. A domestic quarrel escalates toward the grotesque, where intimacy becomes the stage for control and cruelty.
 

There is nothing light in how travesty and jocularity are explored in these films. Both can bite. Deep and sharp. The mix of the two makes for fun and frightening viewing.