
For decades, The Asylum has occupied a peculiar corner of the film industry. The studio responsible for titles like Sharknado, Transmorphers, and countless other opportunistic genre knockoffs has built an empire on speed, thrift, and a keen understanding of audience curiosity. Their films are rarely mistaken for prestige cinema, but they endure because they know exactly what they are. Anthony Frith‘s Mockbuster takes viewers behind that curtain, revealing a filmmaking machine that is simultaneously absurd, exhausting, and strangely admirable.
At the centre of the documentary is Frith himself, an Australian filmmaker whose professional life has largely consisted of corporate video work and short-form projects. Like many aspiring directors, he harbours dreams of making a feature film. Unlike most, he decides to cold-contact The Asylum and somehow receives the opportunity of a lifetime. The catch? He’ll be directing a dinosaur adventure movie on an impossibly tight budget, with only six days to shoot it.
What follows is part filmmaking diary, part industry exposé, and part personal reckoning.
The brilliance of Mockbuster lies in how it balances its competing identities. On one hand, it’s a genuinely informative look at how The Asylum operates. Studio executives candidly discuss their methods, their priorities, and the realities of making films designed to turn a profit rather than win awards. There’s refreshing honesty in hearing people openly acknowledge the commercial motivations behind the work without pretending otherwise.
At the same time, the documentary never becomes a cynical takedown. Frith approaches the studio and its employees with curiosity rather than judgment. The result is a film that finds humour in the madness while still recognising the dedication required to pull these productions together.
And madness is certainly the appropriate word.
Watching Frith attempt to mount a “lost world” dinosaur epic in suburban Adelaide quickly becomes a lesson in controlled chaos. Scripts arrive late. Locations fail to resemble what they’re meant to represent. Costume approvals become unexpected headaches. Time disappears at an alarming rate. The documentary captures the endless series of compromises and unexpected obstacles that arise during any production, only magnified by the extreme constraints of the mockbuster model.
Even viewers with little interest in filmmaking will likely find themselves invested in whether Frith can survive the experience.
What elevates the film beyond a simple behind-the-scenes chronicle is Frith’s willingness to expose his own insecurities. Beneath the production challenges sits a more universal story about ambition. For years, he has imagined what directing a feature might feel like. Now that the opportunity has arrived, reality proves considerably messier than fantasy.
The documentary thoughtfully explores the gap between dreaming about a creative career and actually living it. Frith wrestles with questions familiar to artists in every discipline: Is the dream worth the sacrifice? What happens when the thing you’ve wanted for years doesn’t arrive in the form you expected? How much compromise is acceptable before the work no longer feels like your own?
These reflections give Mockbuster emotional weight that extends well beyond its subject matter.
Thankfully, Frith never allows the introspection to overwhelm the entertainment. The documentary maintains an energetic, self-aware sense of humour throughout. Whether it’s The Asylum executives poking fun at their own reputation or the increasingly ridiculous production hurdles threatening to derail the shoot, there’s a consistent lightness that keeps the film moving.
The result is an engaging portrait of an industry often romanticised from the outside. Mockbuster reminds us that filmmaking is rarely glamorous. It’s problem-solving, improvisation, exhaustion, and occasionally sheer stubbornness. Yet it’s also a celebration of creative persistence. Frith may not be making the next blockbuster, but he is making a movie, and that achievement carries its own value.
By the time the credits roll, Mockbuster becomes about far more than The Asylum or low-budget genre cinema. It’s about the courage required to pursue a goal without any guarantee of success. It’s about embracing imperfect opportunities instead of waiting for perfect ones. And perhaps most importantly, it’s about finding joy in the process, even when everything seems determined to fall apart.
Funny, insightful, and surprisingly inspiring, Mockbuster offers a rare glimpse into a corner of filmmaking most audiences never see. Whether you’re a devoted fan of The Asylum’s catalogue or simply someone who has ever chased a seemingly impossible dream, Frith’s documentary proves that sometimes the most rewarding stories happen behind the camera.
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FOUR STARS (OUT OF FIVE)
Mockbuster is screening as part of this year’s Sydney Film Festival, running between June 3rd and 14th, 2026. For more information on session times and ticket sales, head to the official site here.
