Of all the terms to be used to describe media consumption, “guilty pleasure” should be stricken from the record. The phrase implies that, regardless of perceived quality, the thing itself is not good in some way and that the enjoyment of it makes one feel bad. If you enjoy something, why should you feel guilty? If it brings you joy, there can be no harm and one shouldn’t shrink themselves or the object to somehow justify the consumption. In the realm of cinema, there is a strange hierarchy in which there’s a delineation between “movie” and “film” wherein one is the projection of images and the other is art. Regardless of what one thinks, the only difference between the two is, largely, public perception comprised of individual (in)security. Enter Anthony Frith, long-time cinema fan and director of corporate training videos who decides to try to direct his first feature and lands a job with Sharknado studio The Asylum. Chronicling the adventure and its challenges, Frith *also* directs his first documentary, Mockbuster, which is having its U.S. premiere during Santa Barbara International Film Festival 2026. At once hilarious and insightful, Mockbuster not only takes audiences to get a look behind the curtain at how The Asylum churns out their collection of titles, it’s also a general reminder that one should never feel guilty about the things you enjoy or even love.
Having gone to film school and worked with a few of his idols, filmmaker Anthony Frith currently works making training videos for safety protocols and misses the days when he would make short films for YouTube with his friends. After the birth of his child, Frith starts to wonder if the opportunity to direct a feature and maybe create that career he always dreamed of is never going to happen, leading him to reach out to studio The Asylum to inquire about whether they are hiring directors. With one email, Frith embarks on a journey he could’ve never imagined which will bring him face-to-face with his dream and make him wonder if it’s truly what he wants or is ready for. Along the way, Frith sits down with members of the Asylum team, two Asylum alumni, and a respected member of the Australian/global film community to learn about their perspective on movie-making as a mirror to his own experience.
Let’s circle back to the concept of guilty pleasures for a moment as we establish the term “mockbuster”. Films that hold this sub-genre title are smaller budget films that seek to emulate or borrow from mainstream, larger budget titles, like an homage, but stand on their own. It’s the difference between Transformers (2007) and Transmorphers (2007), Cocaine Bear (2023) and Attack of the Meth Gator (2024), and Pacific Rim (2013) and Atlantic Rim (2013). By just hearing the title, audiences can typically understand what the film is about through the intertextual connection the mockbuster creates. Folks who sign up to watch a mockbuster aren’t looking for high-art (though they may feel like they find it), they are looking for pure, unfiltered entertainment in the form of schlock. In the trailer for Mockbuster, Paul Bales, The Asylum Partner/Head of Administration & Operations, describes what they do as “right above porn.” While the swipe at pornography is quite unnecessary given the historic significance of pornography in the free speech movement as well as artistic expression, the point in defining and creating expectations for mockbusters is, nonetheless, important as it sets the stage for the kind of low budget, swiftly made productions that The Asylum has built a reputation and loyal fanbase on. Understanding this matters because, through the course of Frith’s documentary, we observe him grapple with the dissonance that exists between his dream of being a filmmaker (i.e. expectation) and what it means to be a filmmaker (especially in the specific context of making a mockbuster). This is the push-pull tension that propels much of the film and, by and large, would be fairly dull if not for Frith’s willingness to express his internal concerns through frequent voiceover and the absolute ridiculousness that occurs through the shoot.
L-R: The Asylum Producer Brendan Petrizzo and director Anthony Frith in documentary MOCKBUSTER. Photo courtesy of SBIFF.
To that end, Mockbusters is really a film about two distinct things: one’s struggle to grasp the thing they’ve felt they’ve wanted and the movie-making business as a whole. Laid out like a traditional doc, Mockbuster spends the bulk of its time setting up the first element before we spend the last 40 minutes (or so) on the making of the film Frith is tasked with making. No artist ever sets out to make something bad, even as the barometer for what is “bad” is up to the beholder. This is why one can’t presume that high box office returns is a true measurement of high art any more than critical acclaim is when the actual measurement is longevity. Plenty of people look at the works of filmmaker John Waters and think of his films as bad due to the characters and actions of said characters in their films with most jumping to 1972’s darkly comic Pink Flamingos, except that film has become a cultural milestone, coprophagia and all. Conversely, the recent sci-fi series Avatar from James Cameron continues to bring in truckloads of cash for 20th Century Studios and incorporates some truly mind-boggling technical approaches to create the fantasy world, but will it be analyzed and explored in the same ways Jaws (1975), Star Wars (1977), or Back to the Future (1985) are? Most importantly, does the legacy of Avatar need it when the financial rewards may be enough? This is Frith’s struggle as he frets over a legacy he’ll leave behind before he’s even attempted the thing he wants to do. Such a choice is counter-productive, which the documentary makes quite clear is an obstacle for Frith to recognize and overcome, for how can one develop a cinematic legacy if one doesn’t do the work to create one? Through this first tract, Frith conducts talking head interviews with principal figures at Asylum, sits down with individuals within the filmmaking industry (in U.S. and in his own country of Australia), and others in a bid to better understand the perspective of making films as it relates to his own personal desire to do so. Some of this portion is as much about the slow realization by Frith that no one really knows what they’re doing and that movie-making is a miracle process comprised of a singularly-focused group of individuals playing pretend. Between Frith’s own awkward charm and David Scarborough’s (The Last Daughter) editing, the film, by and large, flows wonderfully as we move into and through Frith’s journey to achieve his dream of being a filmmaker.
The second tract of the film, the view of filmmaking, is the least surprising portion for those well-versed in the industry, but is by far the most amusing for everyone regardless of their knowledge-level. It may surprise some people to learn just how The Asylum makes their films: tight budgets on six-day shoots, high-level control from the suits (including costume approvals that don’t occur until Day One), unreliable script creation (and changes), and a great deal more. The amount of work that goes into these films compared to what’s seen on screen may seem laughably ridiculous, but it all feeds into how The Asylum has been so successful over the years. All they do is make films at a low price point to ensure that they can make a profit which can be utilized for the next film. This is very reminiscent of the old studio ways before the notion that every single film released had to break records in order to be successful versus just making the money back, as well as the concept of contract filmmakers. Rather than your Christopher Nolans (Inception; The Dark Knight Trilogy) or Kevin Smiths (View Askewniverse) who shoot their films with studio assistance (putting it simply) and are often the pull for audiences to go see a new project, all of the Asylum films *are* the pull so the directors don’t matter. Through Mockbuster, audiences not only get to better understand how films like the aforementioned Meth Gator get made, but how the best approach to surviving the ridiculous demands of the high-pressure shoot is applicable to other aspects of real life: don’t forget to have fun. If you’re not enjoying yourself, even getting down in the muck of minutiae or battling over shot structure, then why step on a film set?
As a reviewer, I’m of the mind that the most important aspect of any film is whether or not it succeeds in its goal. What brings down a film for me, among other elements, is whether what occurs within the run-time achieves its intention. Sometimes a film’s only purpose is to entertain, at which point, how well does it do that? If it’s seeking something deeper, am I left ruminating or further enlightened? For a film like Mockbusters, the question is whether or not one feels like being sidekicks on Frith’s adventure, being a silent witness to his trepidation and his joy, causes a transference of internal awareness that the act of trying is far more important than getting bogged down in the details. It doesn’t matter if Frith makes another feature beyond the two he’s currently credited for directing because “director” is now firmly planted on his resume; his dream of securing a legacy as a director complete. It’s up to us now to determine if that’s satisfactory enough for ourselves or if we need to push further on our own dreams. Most importantly, forget the distinction that society tries to cleave into the art you consume. If you dig it, there’s no reason to feel guilty. Likewise, if you make art, you are an artist and there’s nothing anyone can do to take that from you.
Screening during Santa Barbara International Film Festival 2026.
For more information, head to the official Giant Pictures Mockbuster webpage.
Final Score: 4 out of 5.
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Categories: In Theaters, Reviews
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