Riddle of Fire
Written and Directed by Weston Razooli
Starring Lio Tipton, Charles Halford
Rated PG-13
Runtime: 1 hour, 53 minutes
In select theaters March 22

by Liz Wiest, Staff Writer

Weston Razooli managed to do with a directorial debut and a short what any other indie darling would need an entire cinematic universe to do. Making his way onto the scene with 2018’s Anaxia, his unique voice as a filmmaker and unmistakable zeal for worldbuilding firmly proved itself and captivated a niche audience. Now, six years later, Razooli’s feature-length Riddle of Fire has taken Toronto and Cannes by storm with its whimsicality, charm, and subsequent healing of every viewer’s inner child.

It's also impossible not to note the brilliant cinematography work by Jake L. Mitchell–whom the state of Utah should hire to do their marketing–as its exquisite landscapes and locations superimposed themselves so much so they basically became a secondary character. The visual elements are vital in selling the fanciful Technicolor filmmaking unparalleled since 2016’s The Love Witch. And while the movie is stylish in the same way that an Urban Outfitters Polaroid is, it simultaneously feels comforting and natural, like watching a VHS from your childhood.

While having the opportunity to speak with the film’s esteemed producer David Atrakchi (Frank and Lola, Bazigaga) and endlessly badger him about my love for the film, he detailed to me his relentless professional pursuit of a project that resembled “a cinematic experience that moves me in a way that is different and new.” This came as no surprise given the breadth of his resume, but his fervor for Riddle of Fire specifically proved rightfully placed.

The film opens with establishing shots of Salt Lake, a dreamscape ambiance, and three mischievous masked children Hazel (Charlie Stover), Alice (Phoebe Ferro) and Jodie (Skyler Peters) robbing a warehouse with stealth second only to James Bond. After a narrow escape and reaching the haven of their home, it’s revealed they found the Holy Grail: a mysterious video game console known simply as “Fire Gate.” Upon being met with the horrifying inciting incident of needing a password to unlock the game, the children must do the unthinkable and ask their mother (Danielle Hoetmer) who is sick in bed with a cold to unlock the parental controls. Like your average kooky parent figure in folktales, their mother presents them with the condition that they may be granted two hours of video game time if they bring her a blueberry pie just like one her mother used to make.

What follows is a Gawain and the Green Knight-esque epic as the children mount their dirt bike steeds and draw their steel BB gun armor to secure the coveted pie. Whether it’s out of wholesome childlike love for their mother or juvenile video game addiction is unclear, but it’s children–no need to get too bogged down in analyzing character objectives.

Their increasingly dangerous quest leads them to encounter some colorful characters such as a feverish baker (Colleen Baum), an egg-stealing cowboy (Charles Halford) and a cult-like witch coven (including a cameo from Razooli himself) at the helm of Anna-Freya Hollyhock and their daughter Petal Hollyhock–played respectively by Lio Tipton with the enchanting ferocity of a Manson girl you could still bring home to mom and Lorelai Olivia Mote with the ethereal grace of an indie Shirley Temple. Treats are abundant as well for any well-read literature students in the audience familiar with Vladimir Propp’s Morphology of the Folktale who can point at the screen with the fervor of the Leo DiCaprio “Once Upon a Time” meme as each familiar structural unit is introduced and eloquently played out.

Like the folktales Propp analyzed, Riddle of Fire has a dynamic fast-paced beginning followed by a descent into madness, a clunky third act, but then, most importantly, a happy ending. Its vintage feel gives it a satisfying The Goonies meets Moonrise Kingdom touch, an undisputed triumph for a movie so reliant on conveying the vivid world within Razooli’s mind. But frankly, it’s a refreshing change to watch a hit on the festival circuit that doesn’t leave you clamoring for an extra dose of antidepressants.

Despite its momentary loss of momentum when it deviates from folktale format, it’s impossible not to marvel at this all-unknown child-led indie, Peters, with his endearing speech and impeccable comedic timing being the obvious standout. Without sacrificing their performance, it’s obvious that even the villains are too enamored with the sweetness of the children to do much harm. This also unmistakably has to do with the ineffable charm and sincerity behind the script that allows Razooli to immediately gain his audience’s trust that he’ll keep his beloved protagonists, and our nostalgia, safe.