Note: Based on draft written on April 24, 2010.
Another 4 hour night of sleep, and I barely get up in time for this morning's panels. I could have slept in longer, but decided to attend the morning's first, entitled: "Do Film Students Need to Know Much About Classic Films?" I really didn't need to attend it, knowing the answer to that question. But I was anxious to see the audience turnout, hoping to somehow participate in enlightening students.
Sadly, most of the audience members weren't students. Their heads were a sea of grey and white (not a criticism but an observation), which I found kind of depressing, not because of who were there, but who weren't. It was interesting though to listen to what the panelists (David Bordwell, Richard Neupert, Howie Movshovitz, etc.) think young filmmakers might be missing out on, possibly "reinventing the wheel" so to speak without exposure to classic film canon. But there was also acknowledgement that the canon itself has to be sort of flexible as to what filmmakers are trying to achieve, as not all kids are trying to make another CITIZEN KANE.
What made the morning a delight was getting to meet and speak to Tom Dark for the first time. He cuts quite a first impression, which startled me when I first saw him at the Q&A panel for PINK FLOYD'S THE WALL. With his relaxed demeanor, Banana Republic Jungle Vest, old sandals, and Sam Elliott mustache, his look practically screams old codger. But when he speaks, his voice has a soft poetic flow that just draws you in. There is nothing trite in his words, and his insights and experiences when conveyed can feel like a daydream. I wasn't kidding when I tweeted that Tom Dark is a conversational joy.
After chatting with Tom, I got ready for the next panel: "The Global Web of Film Lovers", which I was to participate in. The last panel I remember doing was something back in college (or perhaps high school), and I don't even remember what it was for. But strangely, I felt relaxed this time, and my comments just flowed out of me. I kind of hogged the mic when it came to the issue of film piracy and the lack of access to quality films from the third world, but it has been an issue long on my mind, and I wasn't going to let the opportunity pass.
Speaking of which, I had prepared for that moment a few minutes before by speaking with one of my film critic heroes: Former New York Times film critic Elvis Mitchell. I was able to catch him in the hallway and told him how much I admired his writing. He probably felt the same way I did when I met my first fan yesterday, complete disbelief. He was very gracious with his time and offered suggestions when I mentioned what I wanted to talk about. I kept on calling him sir, and he told me (good-naturedly) never to call him that. "Please call me Elvis." he said. I told him that I blogged, "I just had to listen to Elvis again." He actually got a good laugh out of that. Yes!
Roger took our pictures before we started, and I took a picture of the audience, as I didn't know when I'd ever get to do something like this again. The big guy Omer was a damn good moderator, as he wouldn't let me take the mic too much (I couldn't help myself!), and tried to save Seongyong's commentary on his home country. He managed to have a number of questions to be answered despite us starting late and having very little time left.
After lunch we proceeded to the first screening of the day: Yojiro Takita's OKURIBITO (DEPARTURES). David Bordwell introduced the film saying that it is a very "Japanese" movie, meaning that understanding the country's cultural attitudes towards death, honor, nature, and even food can give a deeper appreciation for the film. Spot-on observation as usual. It was definitely the festival's show stopper, drawing a standing ovation at its end credits, and at the introduction of its director during its Q&A.
I had seen OKURIBITO previously on DVD and thought it was a wonderful film. But seeing it in the Virginia Theater, carefully heeding David's advice in paying attention to the sound, I was overwhelmed by the emotion carried by the movie's astounding use of music. I had mentioned how I loved its use of Beethoven's Ninth, and the director noted how it was purposely used to show an ironic high-and-low moment for the lead character. Though we can debate if it was deserving, it's easy to see how this film won last year's Oscar for Best Foreign Language Film. I haven't shed that much tears or shared that much laughs at a theater in quite some time.
After the film's screening, Grace and I had gathered with David Bordwell back stage for some chit chat about film and such. Once more, he was so generous with his time. The only person I've seen with as much energy in talking about movies is Martin Scorsese, as David sometimes sways from side to side just keeping it all in. He also suggested to Grace and I to continue our interest in covering film festivals, pointing out that Grace could do Toronto (TIFF) and I could do Hong Kong (HKIFF). He even said that if we needed credentials, we could get in touch with him. Like I said, he's one of the nicest men I've ever met.
The next screening was the Russian Dziga Vertov's CHELOVEK S KINO-APPARATOM (MAN WITH THE MOVIE CAMERA), a searing black and white of documentary footage of life in the Soviet Union in the 1920s. Though the film shows scenes of the old, it is more alive and vibrant than most movies shown today, serving as time machine and as laboratory experiment on the possibilities of film. Fellow FFC Ali Arikan noted that he could easily imagine Leni Riefenstahl easily being inspired by this film's energy and imagery, and who knows if it did?
What made the screening of MAN WITH THE MOVIE CAMERA especially worth seeing at Ebertfest was the performance of the Alloy Orchestra, a three-man ensemble performing live music to complement (in this case enhancing) the silent film. Their unorthodox instruments and energetic improvisations raise this piece to something more than just a movie. I would have loved to experience in a music hall in front of orchestral aficionados.
I must admit however that in the middle of this screening, I was attacked by exhaustion, repeatedly dozing in the middle. I decided to skip dinner and the last screening of the night: Charlie Kaufman's SYNECDOCHE, NEW YORK, which I kind of regret. I had seen SYNECDOCHE before, but wanted the chance to see it once more to perhaps catch or appreciate what I may have missed before. It's an uncompromising but insightful film about how man lives his life and his futile and humorous attempts to grasp its immensity. I hope one day to see it again, but oh what a sight it could have been in the Virginia Theatre!
There was a "Mid-fest Party" for select guests after the SYNECDOCHE screening at 11pm, and I had gotten the rest I needed. it was pretty lively and entertaining getting to hang around film organizers, guests, and fellow panelists. Some of my FFC friends were chatting with Charlie Kaufmann. I got the chance to chat with Howie Movshovitz, film critic for Colorado public radio and director of film education at the University of Colorado. I wanted to chat with him about film preservation as many of my Filipino film critics told me to bring it up (our film archives are non-existent or near death). He gave me a list of Film companies/studios that do it in the US, and they don't just do it for American films. He also confirmed what David Bordwell told me: it's really expensive (at least $80,000 per film).
He also told me some great film restoration stories, and I think he was genuinely glad that here I was, a young person incredibly interested in not just movies, but in their importance. He's the only guy I've ever discussed Charles Burnett with. Elvis Mitchell once again walked by and greeted Howie, and I told Howie that I loved Elvis's work. Elvis said, "See. I told you I had one." I called Elvis "sir" again, and yes, he warned me, "If you call me that one more time..."
I finally got around to eat past midnight. Caught up with my FFC buddies and Tom Dark (he's pretty much FFC to us as far as we're concerned). Another 3am arrival at my hotel room. Another 4 hours of sleep. At least I, along with the rest of my dear Far Flung Correspondents, will remember this forever.
Between you and Grace, I think all aspects of Ebertfest are covered -- and that's not including all of the other blogs from the regulars on Ebert's blog, including Wael, Seongyong (specifically his photos, since I can't read Korean), and Randy.
As someone who wasn't there, thanks for letting me feel like I was. :-)
Hello Michael. Nice write up of the day.
Plus, you answered a question that I had of why no one was at Steak n Shake right after Synecdoche NY! I was puzzled by that. You were all at your mid-fest party. And I was alone with my thoughts of the movie and a restaurant full of students - feeling old...
I can relate to it being exhausting. You looked like your were having fun, but were everywhere.
Mike: Were we ever. I could have sworn you were at the party as well, as you seemed everywhere as well. That goes to show just how much was happening.
Russian films are hard to watch. The images in Andrei Tarkovsky's works are poetic and surreal, but the slow pacing is a torture; anyone accustomed to Hollywood pictures won't last for 15 minutes.
Again, nice pics. Opportunities like this don't happen often so the lack of sleep is worth it.
Mike: I know what you mean, but MAN WITH THE MOVIE CAMERA is nowhere like any of the Russian films that came out of Post World War 2. It has almost frenetic pacing and incredible energy. It's just that my exhaustion caught up with me.