The most frustrating aspect of being a movie buff is the difficulty of finding the truly innovative and different through normal channels. The best stuff mostly comes from overseas, away from the corrupting touch of Hollywood, and can only be obtained through avenues of bootleg quality or off-region discs. Just as difficult to find are quality American releases. One of the companies on the forefront of innovative indie releases is Wicked Pixel, and their always-stylish pictures. The Severed Head Network video series has been a sort of primer for their work: bite sized short films for easier consumption. Previously available only on VHS, Wicked Pixel has collected the best eight pieces of the two volumes on one DVD for the VHS-phobic.

Vomire is definitely film at its most experimental: an audiovisual assault on the senses. Lightning fast editing combines with bizarre images that range from the eerily beautiful (a stop-motion amalgam of woman and cemetery angel) to the ridiculous (a man in a pumpkin costume furiously humping a crucifix) to the outright disgusting (stock footage of a botched cow slaughter). Intercut with light show strobes and other odd images, it's fascinating at best, and awful at its worst. To have some genuinely stark moments softened by the almost comical distortion of the word "unicorn" over and over is disappointing.

Next up is Faith In Nothing, a music video for a slow-paced techno song by the Analogue Satellites. Featuring all of director Eric Stanze's usual visual tricks, it's definitely a fun watch, with slow-motion, sped-up motion, parts run backwards, filters and countless other neat camera tricks that made me smile simply by how resourceful Stanze is without a huge budget or editing studio. Also commendable is its ability to be very erotic and sensual without being dirty. The line between eroticism and smut is razor-thin, and Stanze manages to deftly dance on that line without ever crossing over.

Tommy Biondo's Satisfaction is one of the most difficult movies of the bunch to process. Mixing poetic monologues with very graphic sex scenes and horrific rape flashbacks, it's incredibly difficult to watch. Knowing what will inevitably happen in the chopped-apart flashbacks is excruciating, and you dread the coming results. Indeed, the flashbacks finally come to a head, and the results in the real world are devastating. Both actors manage to convey emotion quite well while remaining professional throughout. To be honest, I'm not sure if I like it or not, but it definitely will get a reaction out of you.

Another music video, Todd Tevlin's Unwanted, gives us some smart editing and psychological hoops to jump through. Incredibly fitting for the song, it's dark and raw, with plenty of visual metaphor for you to chew on. The final image, of the main character cringing under the barrel of the gun he's pressed against his temple, is pretty damn effective, and is definitely much better than the shit they air on MTV these days.

Perhaps the closest to horror in this collection, Jason Christ's Victim is a black-and-white piece concerning a murderer and the survivors. In spite of Christ's capable direction, the screenplay itself seemed awfully disjointed and seemed to be either too long or too short to be effective. A little tighter, and it could've been more satisfying. A little longer, and character development would've made us care more.

Every compilation has a favorite, and this one's it, folks: Lashly & Botthof's Sedgewick. The story of a senile old man and his fantastic misadventures, it's incredibly well directed and well written. Incorporating himself into delusional scenarios involving situations around him, it's guaranteed to get a big smile out of you. Sedgewick himself is incredibly likeable, reminding me of an idealistic grandpa figure with his own style and class. He's a hero for the downtrodden in his dreams, making him a modern day Don Quixote, noble and well-meaning.

Bringing a little more light-hearted fare to the compilation, Crozier's Liontown is also a delight. Giving us goofy Troma-style laughs wrapped up in a musical, anthropomorphic package, it introduces us to a group of animals (including a cow with a fridge full of hay...genius!) drawn to the unbelievable pleasures of Liontown. Musical numbers are catchy, with some witty lyrics and spirited performances. Of course, those lions have some tricks up their sleeves, so we've got a splash of gore too. Not exactly groundbreaking, but it's amazingly good nonetheless.

Finally, we've got WP's piece de resistance, Curveball: Pile of Junk. Winner of about a gazillion awards, starring Eric Stanze, and directed by Jason Christ, it's incredibly well directed. The song itself is nothing too great, basic heavy metal and nothing more, but the video itself is badass. Stanze is imposing as the main character running about an industrial wasteland, and Christ's camerawork is a pleasure, with snappy editing and disorienting shots of train trellises and other normally mundane architecture which takes on an eerie life of their own in the video. Good stuff.

Picture quality is pretty good throughout. Colors are solid and bold and everything is pretty sharp. Of course, knowing how WP likes to use intentional print damage, soft focus and filters to their advantage, it's hard to bitch about blemishes in the picture quality: they did it on purpose! Sound was clean and presentable in Dolby Digital Stereo, with the same disclaimer as the video. Extras are plentiful, including the Stanze-directed intros from the VHS volumes (incredibly entertaining to watch), boatloads of behind-the-scenes footage, and previews for other WP features.

A must for fans of experimental and independent film fans, or a great jump-on point for those beginning to dip their toes in, there's plenty to like on this DVD. While most definitely NOT for everyone, and sometimes pretty offensive, it reminds us why independent film rules: unapologetically raw, and not pandering to a "demographic," it gets its message across without pulling punches.