Rebound or Knockout? The Strange and Troubled History of the Fights at Fantastic Fest

On September 21, 2024, two women went blow-for-blow under the blazing lights of a boxing gym in Austin, Texas. Jabs. Hooks. Uppercuts. A handwritten sign that read “Death to Mainstream Cinema.” These are the Fantastic Fest Debates.

Ahbra Perry and Annick Mahnert are programmers for Alamo Drafthouse’s infamous genre film festival. For its 19th edition, they also participated as fighters in a controversial boxing ritual that has existed almost as long as the festival itself. Competitors select a subject for debate, and after three rounds of verbal back-and-forth, they put on gloves and duke it out — physically.

Over the years, big names like Michelle Rodriguez, Elijah Wood, Keanu Reeves, and Zoë Bell have participated in the theater chain’s gonzo exhibition. The celebration of disagreement lets actors, directors, critics, Fantastic Fest organizers, and more fans put their fists where their film opinions are. As America’s largest genre festival enters its second decade, The Debates also reflect a community’s battle for accountability. In 2024, the tradition saw its majority female programming staff (three of five are women) quietly grappling with several scandals in the ring.

A director who participated in the fights in 2018 filed a lawsuit in 2020 claiming they left him with permanent brain damage when organizers knowingly let him box an experienced MMA fighter. Filmmaker Joe Swanberg, who appeared in a notorious 2012 match opposite beleaguered film critic Devin Faraci, now looks back on the experience with mixed feelings — raising questions about the event’s core nature. Meanwhile, “The People’s Joker” star Vera Drew, who took part in The Debates in 2023, said she wouldn’t do it again after she learned Fantastic Fest was harboring another “open secret.”

Alamo Drafthouse and Fantastic Fest declined to comment on this story. Sony Pictures, which purchased the theater chain earlier this year, did not respond to IndieWire’s request for comment.

Beyond the boxing ring, Fantastic Fest has spent the last eight years trying to mount a comeback after a series of #MeToo allegations rocked the festival. In 2016, Drafthouse fired the editor-in-chief of its film site, Birth.Movies.Death. in the wake of a sexual assault allegation. Faraci publicly took responsibility, but a year later, Drafthouse and Fantastic Fest co-founder Tim League came under harsh scrutiny when he secretly rehired Faraci as a copywriter.

That prompted outrage inside and outside the festival. Faraci quickly left, then-programmer Todd Brown exited Fantastic Fest in a scathing public letter; press and industry attendees held an informal summit to discuss a combusting culture; and Fox Searchlight pulled “Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri” from the fest lineup.

Days later, IndieWire broke a story in which multiple women levied accusations of sexual assault and harassment against Fantastic Fest co-founder Harry Knowles, spurring more criticism of festival organizers who allegedly knew about his behavior. League skipped Fantastic Fest that year and publicly apologized for rehiring Faraci, and again after the Knowles report. In 2020, Knowles said he was sorry in an online statement, but maintained his intent was not malicious.

Festival director Lisa Dreyer took over in 2022, when Fantastic Fest returned from lockdown, and The Debates came back with it. Owen Egerton, a screenwriting professor at Emerson College who has emceed the tradition since it began in 2008, said he was surprised.

“When The Debates continued, it was actually a thrill,” said Egerton. “I was like, ‘Oh, we can keep this and do it wisely.’ Hopefully, that’s what we’ve been doing.

“This festival has evolved,” said Dreyer. “It’s a safe space for people and a fun space for men and women. It doesn’t matter who you are; you can enjoy boxing and debating and fun.”

Still, the event’s sordid history remains top of mind. On the ground in 2024, guests could be heard agreeing: Fantastic Fest isn’t what it once was — and that’s a good thing. 

Dreyer and her staff took a gamble with The Debates. Even in Texas, facilitating physical fights is bold – but for some Fantastic fans, that’s partly why the tradition is vital. (League and Dreyer were interviewed by IndieWire before we knew to ask about the 2018 match that resulted in a lawsuit. Neither responded to our requests for a follow-up.)

As told by many who love the genre community, this is the story of The Debates at Fantastic Fest.

The First Fantastic Debates

Founded in 2005, Fantastic Fest began as an excuse for a specific group of festival regulars to meet up and screen titles they otherwise couldn’t show. Genre filmmaking — a term most often used to describe horror, sci-fi, fantasy, and similar movies that play on distinct themes and tropes — always had its champions. But throughout the ‘90s and 2000s, its place in the festival circuit often felt small. 

Tim League credits screenwriter Tim McCanlies (“Iron Giant”) with kickstarting the first Fantastic Fest after they attended a 2004 spaghetti Western retrospective at Spain’s Sitges Film Festival, the world’s oldest genre festival. McCanlies, League, and Drafthouse co-founder Karrie League (Tim League’s wife) dreamed of creating a similar event. The three Austin locals believed the need for a festival catering specifically to genre lovers in the U.S. was big enough to draw a crowd to the film scene in Texas.

“Six months after that, [McCanlies] calls a meeting with me, and he says, ‘I know we talked about this casually, but you haven’t moved on it,’” League told IndieWire. “He said, ‘I wasn’t casual. You have to do this. If you lose any money at all, you don’t have to give me receipts, you just tell me what it is, and I’ll write you a check for whatever you lost.’”

Fantastic Fest was born five months later. The Debates emerged almost as swiftly, thanks to a boxing gym located next door to Alamo Drafthouse South Lamar. Owner Randy Palmer moved to South Austin Gym in 2012, and The Debates followed. 

The first matches in 2008 were “just weird,” Palmer said. “I had a little tiny floor ring, right in the front window, and there wasn’t a huge crowd. We just kind of did our thing. But the next year, a few more people came — I think [filmmaker] Uwe Boll was there — and after that, it got progressively bigger and better every time.”

League fought Boll in 2009, but the German director made headlines years earlier when he invited his harshest critics to fight him at a boxing ring in Vancouver. Boll trained regularly and warned in a local radio interview: “It will be a real fight because I hate you.” That helped inspire Fantastic Fest. 

Developing alongside Boll’s self-made controversy, The Debates emerged into a counter-cultural limbo. As the event grew in size and theatricality, outsiders struggled to understand: Were these fights real? Fake? Both? Watching Elijah Wood and fellow “Lord of the Rings” star Dominic Monaghan battle in 2011 over World of WarCraft, it can be hard to tell. 

Amateur boxing is regulated in most U.S. states, and when IndieWire inquired about the event with the Texas Department of Licensing and Registration, they, too, were confused. Palmer oversees the boxing at The Debates, and his gym is licensed. 

League has fought more than any other Debates participant, and his matches are the ones to watch if you want to see the biggest celebrity names and the most technically challenging boxing. In 2010, by his own admission, League got his ass handed to him by “Fast and Furious” star Michelle Rodriguez. The following year, he faced Irish bare-knuckle boxing champ James Quinn McDonagh. In 2013, League verbally debated Keanu Reeves, before taking on Reeves’ proxy and friend, tai chi master Tiger Chen. 

“There was another guy, Cody Hackman, this karate guy who actually made me retire, and I got beat pretty bad,” said League of their match from 2015. The Drafthouse founder returned to the ring in 2022; for the latest Debates, he fought stuntwoman Zoë Bell. “What I love about the Fantastic Debates is that you bring the fight, and with very few exceptions, every competitor hugs it out,” he said.

Swanberg vs. Faraci (2012)

Director Joe Swanberg (“Drinking Buddies”) and critic Devin Faraci made Fantastic Fest history in 2012 with a match that went viral — not once, but twice. Their Debate is most often cited when people talk about the event getting “too real.” 

“I remember watching Joe Swanberg punch Devin Faraci like he meant it, and everyone maybe not being sure of how to feel about that,” said Maxim Pozderac, a longtime festival attendee and host of The Fantastic Feuds (an annual team-style trivia event).

“We haven’t had many real enemies fighting,” said Egerton. “That was a case where these two people were not fond of each other in a real way — and that was unfortunate. I don’t look back on that fight fondly.”

Nearly all Debates are filmed and shared online by Fantastic Fest, but Swanberg vs. Faraci exploded public knowledge of the event. Their match happened long before the film community banished Faraci in 2017, but the beatdown he received reemerged on social media as part of that #MeToo moment.

Swanberg, who disputes that the fight was personal, said, “It’s crazy how it still comes up 12 years later. Once all that stuff went down with him, I felt like suddenly everybody was reposting that link. It had a total second wave.”  

To hear the Chicago director tell it more than a decade later, the truth behind his clash with Faraci reflected an ire already building in the Austin film community and online — where Faraci’s reputation as a “bully” preceded him. Swanberg said, “It took on a bigger status because there were a lot of people that, unbeknownst to me, were really rooting for me to put Devin in his place.” Faraci did not provide comment to IndieWire.

According to Swanberg, filmmaker Ti West (the “X” trilogy) trained him for a half hour on the day of the fight, and said, “These are more fun when people try and actually box each other versus run around the ring for three minutes and pretend to throw punches.” IndieWire was unable to reach West for comment.

Neither Swanberg nor Faraci were seriously trained fighters, but Faraci had participated in the event twice before. The opponents verbally debated the merits of mumblecore filmmaking — a style that Swanberg pioneered but which Faraci criticized in his writing.

“The debate was sort of scripted versus not scripted,” said Swanberg. “I was definitely putting on a show of being more serious than I actually felt about it.”

“It started out that Devin was tearing [Swanberg] apart in the debate, but then by the response round, Swanberg had won everybody’s hearts,” said Tim League. “It was really sincere, and even though he didn’t prepare, the audience was totally with him.”

Then, the physical portion began. Neither opponent was provided with headgear at the start — something Swanberg remembers being promised beforehand — but nevertheless, both men began “throwing wild punches” in a fight he said “felt real.” 

“It was a brutal slaying of Devin,” said League. “And Devin was really mad at the end of it. He had knocked his [eye] contact out, and he shouldn’t have been wearing contacts.” The safety risks of wearing contact lenses during combat sports have been debated, with some medical professionals believing they increase the likelihood of injury.

“He kind of dropped down to his knees and was sort of fishing around for his contact lens,” said Swanberg. “Then he requested headgear, which they were supposed to give us. To his credit, I think he was a little bit like, ‘What the fuck? We were supposed to already have this.’ So he put on his headgear but just to be a punk, I declined the headgear. That got a huge reaction from the crowd, and then we went again.”

The Debates include two boxing rounds, one minute each. By the time Faraci went down, Swanberg said the temperature in the room had shifted — and Faraci became upset. 

“I immediately went up to him afterwards, and I tried to tell him that I thought that the debate was really funny,” Swanberg said. “He was not on that same level.” 

Swanberg said he later found Faraci at an afterparty where he expressed admiration for his opponent’s writing talent, and the mood “warmed up.” They took a photograph together, but days later, Swanberg said Faraci became “defensive” and appeared to be “spiraling” online. At one point, Swanberg said, he saw a post from Faraci claiming he’d been hit in the back of the head — which Swanberg disputes. 

“Once it hit the internet, it took on this bigger sort of thing,” said Swanberg, who remembers receiving a slew of emails commending his part in the pummeling. “I had a weird feeling afterwards of both victory, and simultaneously, personally, feeling really bad.”

“I think The Debates are really cool,” he said. “It’s a really fun idea, and nowadays, they probably go to extra lengths to make sure that it’s a positive experience for both people, but it definitely felt like it took on dynamics that were way more real than what I thought was going to happen.” 

Anonymous v. Alamo Drafthouse (2018)

Six years after Swanberg vs. Faraci, Fantastic Fest put on a match that resulted in a civil lawsuit from a filmmaker who requested anonymity when approached by IndieWire. He said The Debates left him with permanent brain damage. Asked why he had not gone public with the claim before, the director cited a fear of backlash.

“I’m a genre filmmaker, and that’s the work I want to do,” he said. “I was scared that it would blow back on me and it would even further hinder my career — especially since it’s such a popular festival.”

The 2018 tag-in match included four people: two debating and two boxing. Anonymity has also been extended to the director’s partner in The Debates, a female screenwriter. She performed in the verbal part of the Debate, and they corroborated each other’s accounts of that night. 

The director’s boxing opponent from that match — one of several defendants named in the lawsuit with Tim League and Alamo Drafthouse — has also been anonymized. He is a Fantastic Fest staffer who previously worked as a server and projectionist at the dine-in theater chain.

Filmmaker and playwright Billy Ray Brewton, who delivered the verbal argument against the director/screenwriter team, does not have an identifying relationship with the staffer he competed alongside. Brewton agreed to be quoted on the record.

Roughly a month before Fantastic Fest 2018, the director and screenwriter were asked to participate in The Debates by their film’s producer. They agreed and were initially slated to compete against a husband-wife duo — director Jason Trost (“The FP”) and actress/producer Tallay Wickham. In an email chain sent to IndieWire, Trost and the anonymous director expressed discomfort with The Debates and talked about finding a way to get out of the event.

Trost said he took issue with the spirit of The Debates (“This isn’t Fight Club, it’s a film festival,” he told IndieWire), but he said he also had safety concerns related to his disability. Trost is blind in his right eye and wears an eyepatch — something he says festival organizers were aware of before signing him up to box.

“I definitely mentioned it, but it didn’t seem like they took it seriously,” said Trost, who remembers Fantastic Fest assuring him the event was safe. “I was like, ‘OK, cool, but I could be the exception, and if I get hit the wrong way, I’m blind for the rest of my life.’”

Trost pulled out of The Debates two weeks before the festival and thought “that would be the end of it” for the other director as well, he said. However, that same day, the director and screenwriter were introduced via email to their new opponents: the staffer and Brewton.

“It just makes me feel horrible because I feel like I should have tried even harder to stop the fight,” said Trost, who was unaware of the lawsuit before he was contacted by IndieWire. “[The director] was definitely worried about it before.”

Organizations like the World Boxing Council agree that mismatched opponents in boxing are dangerous and can increase the likelihood of severe injury. For a match to be considered safe, competitors are expected to be similar in physical size and build as well as levels of experience. 

Brewton described his teammate as “a big built MMA fighter.” The director was shorter and smaller than the staffer and told IndieWire that he had no fighting experience with boxing beyond occasionally punching a bag at the gym. 

That staffer told IndieWire, “I’ve always practiced martial arts,” and said he got involved with The Debates specifically to “help out these filmmakers who have no idea what they’re doing.” He did not comment on the lawsuit.

Brewton said he was “shocked” when he learned about the lawsuit in 2020, as no physical injury was immediately apparent when he watched the fight. However, asked if it was an even match, he said, “Not even remotely.” He quantified the staffer’s fighting skill as “an eight” and the director’s as “a one.”

“You look at [the staffer] and you know he can fight,” said Brewton. “He could hurt somebody, and he knows that so he was very cautious of that. [The staffer] went into [that match] knowing, ‘I’m barely going to be able to do anything.’”

The screenwriter, who watched the match ringside with Brewton, also remembered the staffer saying to the director beforehand that he would “pull all of his punches.” Both also recalled the director getting hit in the face at least once. IndieWire has seen video from the match, which shows the director getting struck in the head and torso repeatedly. He walks away from the ring of his own volition. Participants did not recall signing a waiver for The Debates.

“The weird thing about The Debates is that they always felt both very well planned and not very well planned at all,” said Brewton, who has watched the event on several other occasions. “[Organizers] have an idea of how it’s going to look, but then it feels like it doesn’t really all come together until the day before or the day of.”

When the match ended, the director said he was checked out ringside by a medical professional. “He shined a light, a little pen light, in my eyes and saw that I was wearing contacts,” the director told IndieWire. “And he was like, ‘Jesus Christ, are you wearing contacts? Didn’t somebody tell you that you can’t wear contacts while you’re boxing?'” IndieWire was unable to locate that medical professional for an interview.  

The director and screenwriter attended several screenings for their film after The Debates, but the screenwriter recalled the director saying he was “not feeling well” for much of the festival’s remainder and said that he soon became “spacey” in conversation. A few days later, the director said he became dizzy while driving in Austin and had to pull over. 

“The severity of it took about a month for us to really understand, but I do remember getting updates regularly from him within a week or two of him getting back to [his hometown],” the screenwriter said. “Within three months of him doing the festival, he couldn’t read or watch or look at screens.” She added that the director struggled to keep track of stories during pitch meetings in the months that followed, and their work was put on pause for more than a year.

IndieWire has seen medical records that confirm the director was diagnosed with a concussion during the festival at an urgent care center in Texas. We also confirmed that he was diagnosed with post-concussive migraines in February 2019 and continues to receive ongoing treatment for the condition in 2024. Symptoms can be temporary or permanent; they include severe tension-type headaches that are often exacerbated by hypersensitivity to light and sound — as well as cognitive impairment, slowed thinking, and memory issues.

“It’s completely debilitating,” said the director. “It’s not just a headache. You get sort of haloed vision, and any bright light or loud noise feels like you’re getting stabbed in your brain. There’s crazy nausea, sometimes vomiting. The only thing I could do was take as much Advil as possible and lie in a dark, quiet room for hours. It takes over your whole body and you cannot do anything.” The director hired an assistant to help with these limitations; IndieWire has spoken with this person, who confirmed the reason for their employment. 

The director says the lawsuit he brought against Alamo Drafthouse did not move forward after the theater chain declared bankruptcy in 2021; his case against South Austin Gym is still open. The director said he considered that case likely “done” and has kept his focus on “moving forward” despite continued struggles with his traumatic brain injury.

“It really wasn’t the money,” he said about the lawsuit. “Would I have loved to be recouped? Sure. But I’m lucky that I could afford it. A lot of people put in that situation could not have afforded the treatment that I could.” The director has chosen not to pursue any further legal action against the staffer who he fought in the match.

“I don’t think he was out to hurt me the way that I have been hurt by it,” the director said, admitting he “should have” walked away and would have if the festival had been more forthcoming. He said his condition has improved somewhat as he has learned to manage his disability, but the director blames the festival for putting him in the ring against a bigger and more experienced opponent. Their choice continues to have consequences for him that may never go away, he said.

Asked about her thoughts, the screenwriter said, “Nobody, no matter how awful whatever they did is, should be judged on the worst thing they do. But to not acknowledge it or make any show of change at all, that’s the real issue.”

Louise Weard vs. Vera Drew (2023)

In 2023, Canadian filmmaker Louise Weard (“Castration Movie”) and “The People’s Joker” director Vera Drew stepped into the ring to debate the merits of superhero movies. The match between the trans women culminated in the competitors making out instead of exchanging blows — a controversial act in Texas. That’s emblematic of Fantastic Fest’s efforts to push boundaries while becoming more diverse.

“In some ways, the festival was maybe not reaching its full potential with certain audiences,” said Dreyer. “I wanted to make changes that ensured people who had never been to the festival before knew that they would be welcome here.”

Inspired by video of the Swanberg vs. Faraci fight from years earlier, Weard challenged Drew to The Debates during an afterparty at Outfest 2022 in Los Angeles. Drew said they used the opportunity as a way to build “off of what Vera’s movie is about as two trans women competing in an event that’s traditionally been hyper-masculine.”

Drew said she loved the actual debating. “I felt like a fucking rock star,” she said. “It was really fun to watch the audience not know how to react to us saying some things to each other. Most people were laughing, but there was also just this sea of cis guys in the crowd going like, ‘Oh, wow. We’re allowed to laugh at ‘faggot’ now?’”

Weard vs. Drew became an instant cult classic among longtime fans of the boxing event, but their match also reflected a sense that the confusion and disorganization around The Debates remains. In the months leading up to that night, Drew mentioned to Weard that she was “a black belt.” While that is technically true — Drew reached junior black belt status learning TaeKwonDo in eighth grade — the offhand remark caused a serious misunderstanding.

“I way over-prepared and only later found out that Vera was joking,” said Weard. “I remember Vera saying, ‘Louise, yeah, but when I was 12. You’re going to kill me!’”

“I really had no understanding of what I was agreeing to with this,” said Drew, who said Tim League gave her an impromptu lesson on boxing basics shortly before the match. “I just like opportunities to dress up like The Joker and be obnoxious.”

Upon discovering their vast skill disparity, the women hatched a plan. “I told her, ‘In round two, I want to actually try to beat the shit out of you,’” said Weard. “‘But if we get to a point where you are too scared by that, then throw off your gloves, and we’ll just make out for the rest of the minute.’” Drew took her gloves off after roughly 12 seconds.

In 2022, Fantastic Fest introduced a new waiver specific to The Debates. Participants now read the risks of amateur boxing while being recorded on camera. Drew described laughing nervously throughout the recording process and thinking to herself, “So if I die tonight, my partner can’t sue the festival. This is basically what I’m agreeing to.” Fantastic Fest declined IndieWire’s request for a copy of the waiver.

While Drew said Fantastic Fest is still her “favorite festival,” she admits she could have asked more questions before she participated. Neither Drew nor Weard were told about the incident from 2018 before their match. Weard heard about it first from IndieWire, while Drew said she learned about it from another filmmaker just one day after her fight.

“If I had known that something like that had gone down, I definitely would not have agreed to it,” said Drew. “The fact that this lawsuit was this open secret, it’s one of the reasons why getting an email from you, I’m like, ‘OK, I should talk about this because we’ve all been talking about this. It’s time.’”

Multiple other filmmakers, attendees, and organizers echoed similar sentiments to IndieWire but would not agree to be named for this article. Many cited a fear of retaliation.

“There is something really weird, just a day after the first time two trans women are in The Debates, finding out that this thing happened,” Drew continued. “It was hard for me not to go, ‘Were we brought in just to rehabilitate this?’”

The Debates: Art Form or Artifact?

The Debates are important to many Fantastic Fest fans, and numerous participants continue to defend the long-enduring tradition. The matches they described to IndieWire, often in awed and admiring tones, vary in style and seriousness. The range of performances suggests a kind of art form unto itself.

In 2015, producer and programmer Peter Kuplowsky (who previously worked for Fantastic Fest) went claw-to-claw with friend and filmmaker Steven Kostanski (“Frankie Freak”) in a match paying homage to kaiju monster movies. The duo dressed up as a green-screen Godzilla and Jet Jaguar for a cage match that included almost no real fighting, but did see them destroy a cityscape made of cardboard buildings.

“Fantastic Fest is part of an ecosystem of film festivals that are frankly essential,” said Kuploswky. “All of these festivals should continue to evolve and improve, but we exist in a world where so much media is being made and so many independent films are being made that it has become harder and harder for them to reach an audience.” Done correctly, he said, The Debates boost project visibility and give filmmakers a platform.

Gigi Saul Guerrero (“Into the Dark: Culture Shock”), who has appeared in The Debates three times, said the event helped her not only find a sport she loves, but it also introduced her to many of her closest friends in the genre community. When Guillermo del Toro attended The Debates, also in 2015, the director’s appearance made an important memory for the fellow Mexican filmmaker.

“He was literally just sitting there in front of me,” said Guerrero. “Literally just sitting there smiling. He didn’t fight, but I was just like, ‘Oh, my God, this might be the closest I’ll ever be to this guy I admire so much.’ He was just right there.”

In 2019, Guerrero participated in The Debates and got fighting tips from Lucha Libre legend Vampiro. “I just hope to be back as many years as possible,” she said, “because this is the one festival where I feel the true meaning of FOMO. No other festival does that for me.”

Fantastic Fest is set to celebrate its 20th anniversary next year. With Sony as the new owners of Alamo Drafthouse and women presumably again at the event’s helm, that landmark moment will prove a pivotal time for The Debates. Asked about his hopes for the future of the event, Tim League said, “I hope it doesn’t change too much.”

For many, The Debates are the heart of Fantastic Fest — a luminous example of what film culture can be when midnight movie lovers run wild. But for an anonymous festivalgoer, who spoke with IndieWire in the halls of Alamo Drafthouse South Lamar before any interviews began, they’re better compared to a “vestigial organ” — an idle appendage sure to be cut out if it starts making problems too real to ignore.

Ex-Drafthouse CEO Tim League (now executive chairman), Fantastic Fest director Lisa Dreyer, and South Austin Gym owner Randy Palmer were interviewed before IndieWire knew about the contentious match from 2018 — or the suggestion that the subsequent lawsuit was an “open secret” at Fantastic Fest. League and Dreyer did not respond to requests for follow-up interviews; Palmer declined to comment.