Inside DiPiazza’s restaurant in Long Beach last week, a small crowd had no idea what they were about to see.
On screen, a video — rendered completely with AI — flickered to life. It showed a girl singing in some kind of fight club interspersed with freeze frames.
The audience was not happy.
After 60 seconds, someone paused the video, and the crowd was asked to render its verdict: “No mercy!” they shouted. They didn’t want to see any more. Organizers quickly put on the next short film.
For the next hour, the screenings continued. The crowd voted on everything from monochrome zine videos and music videos to ‘80s-inspired shorts. They shouted “mercy” if they wanted to see more after a minute and “no mercy” if they’d had enough.
The format at the aptly named No Mercy film series is a democratized rejection of the traditional festival format where “you submit online, you go into a pool with a million people, and whoever is on the other end is curating, judging, picking stuff based on their criteria,” said organizer Kyle Waters Geller.
Geller spent 20 years in television, production and independent filmmaking before starting a nonprofit media organization in Long Beach called Pound Video Magazine.
“I haven’t been on the festival circuit in a long, long time, but when I was, I hated it. I hated it. It was like festivals were being so inclusive that they were being exclusive,” he said.
He started No Mercy to give artists a different way to showcase their work, with films judged by their peers. He’s held three events so far, with another slated for October.
Anyone who wants to screen their work can show up and throw their short film into the ring. They’re picked at random — no pre-screening — and played for the audience to decide if they want to keep watching.
“Come be judged by your peers; don’t be scared. Trial by screen,” Geller said.
The screenings end up being more than just a place to watch a few films, said Richard “RAS-1” Smith, a musician who attended the most recent one. They encourage people to go out and create, knowing there are spaces where they can share what they make.
“It’s putting themselves out there,” Smith said. “It’s to help people get better. But also, it’s to bring the community together as people and artists.”
And at the end of the night, regardless of whether their film got cut off or not, each artist gets to participate in a Q&A after their screenings, where they discuss their work and get feedback from the crowd and a small panel assembled by Geller.
Octavio Gutierrez, who showed his homemade music video at DiPiazza’s, said it was valuable feedback.
“It’s very important because I’ve been making music for 3 years now, and I don’t know where to showcase my music. And this event, actually, I was able to showcase my music, and having to show my video was amazing because I got to see people’s actual reaction,” Gutierrez said. “This type of event is helpful for small-time bands because in this industry it needs community.”
Another attendee, Nick Eismann, said events like No Mercy give artists and creatives like himself the chance to overcome self-doubt.
“To have a festival like this where it’s really just people having fun at the end of the day and sharing whatever it is they make no matter how big or small the budget and getting that chance to boost their confidence is a really important space to hold,” Eismann said.
Moving forward, Geller hopes the festival continues to grow, allowing more artists to be seen while creating a space where they can have fun, be judged and improve their work.
The next event is scheduled for Oct. 3 at DiPiazza’s and is free to attend. Individuals interested in submitting work can bring it on a hard drive to the event; no registration is required.
Follow No Mercy on Instagram for more info on upcoming screenings.