In this town, Panic is the name and currency

In a single breath A Town Called Panic is a genius of absurdity and also a whimsical farce. The fact that it stars characters named Horse, Cowboy and Indian — and they are played by little plastic toys in the shapes of a horse, cowboy and indian — adds to its unmistakably zesty magic. How, you will ask yourself, did adults channel their inner 5-year-olds to make this? I’m still pondering that question myself.

Indian and Cowboy decide one day to build Horse a barbecue — why a horse would want to barbecue anything is charmingly never explained — so they get online and order 50 bricks. But due to a computer typo, 50 million bricks are delivered. The delivery trucks number so many that they create a roaring stream of traffic near Cowboy and Indian’s farm. With a mountain of bricks outside the front door, now the two friends must hide their mistake from Horse, who is smarter and more mature than both of his roommates. Where they hide the bricks, of course, is impossible, but it's hilarious they're not noticed sooner.

I love that plot. I especially love telling people that plot, because it prompts all kinds of questions, some more absurd than the film itself: Why celebrate a horse’s birthday? Aren’t cowboys and indians typically rivals? Wouldn’t their credit card be declined before ever successfully ordering 50 million bricks? Questions like this are valid, until you see A Town Called Panic, and then you realize that nothing quite lines up in the nutty meringue of the film’s delivery.

What a wacky movie this is. It comes from Belgium, based off a world created in several shorts by the film’s directors, Stéphane Aubier and Vincent Patar, who also do some character voices. The voice acting is French, but the English subtitles are hilarious on their own — Horse, for instance, frequently says, “No probs” to things that most farm animals would definitely have cause for concern.

Panic is shot in the most rudimentary style of stop-motion animation, though the film’s blissful mood is so contagious you won’t much care that the movements aren’t completely smooth. Many of the characters stand on the little plastic platforms that keep some toys from tipping over. The film assumes we know this, and it gets a laugh out of us, as does nearly every visual, from the enormous waffles in the vending machines to the lava spewing from cell phones.

I’ve explained the bricks, and how Horse, Indian and Cowboy live together on a farm — though Horse lives indoors, uses the Internet, reads the newspaper and has his own bed, while the slightly dumber cows graze in an adjacent field without complaint — though there’s so much more to it. Like how the trio journey to the center of the earth to play cards on a rock teetering above the molten core. Or how they encounter a giant robot penguin whose main purpose is to hurl snowballs on unsuspecting creatures hundreds of miles away. Or how a disco is held where the postman (Postman), local law enforcement (Policeman), various farm animals and a red tractor can party on a lighted dancefloor. How and why these and many other hilarious antics happen I will let you discover; just know that it all proceeds in this refreshingly illogical kind of stupor.

A Town Called Panic is not playing anywhere near where you’re reading this article, unless you happen to be in Europe or perhaps near several obscure theaters in California or New York. Why offer a review of a film you have no chance of seeing until its DVD release, you ask? Because I want A Town Called Panic to showcase the talent and originality that comes wrapped inside film festivals. I saw Panic at the Phoenix Film Festival this past weekend. It was the 10:15 p.m. screening Friday night. I think 11 people were in the theater. And we all surrendered ourselves to this charming, nonsensical movie.

The Phoenix Film Festival is not the greatest of film festivals. It’s certainly no Cannes, Toronto or Sundance. But what it does exceptionally well is introduce new films — even new kinds of films — to audiences that would otherwise be unable to see them. Only a handful of people in this state were able to experience the giddy magic of A Town Called Panic. Next year, when I see another gem, I want there to be more than 11 people enjoying it with me.