FESTS



 

South by Southwest Film Festival

Program director Angela Lee’s advice to filmmakers attending the South by Southwest (SXSW) Film Festival – "You’re not here to network, you’re here to have fun" – seemed to capture the reigning sentiment of this annual event.

Have fun? If you’re a struggling filmmaker who has just spent the past four years making your opus, not to mention blowing your grandmother’s life savings, do you really just want to have fun? Well, if you are attending SXSW, the answer is probably yes.

Set against the backdrop of Austin, the last bastion of alternative culture in the Lone Star state, SXSW has come into its own. A one-time offshoot of the SXSW Music Festival, the film section has become a staple on the festival circuit not just for its ability to launch a film but as a break from all that mind-numbing ass- kissing. "It’s a good mix between networking and having fun that doesn’t lean too far one way or the other," Lee says.

A rare blend of informative panels, strong programming and a relaxed social scene (i.e., free beer) gives SXSW that "festival" feeling without all the excess baggage – cell phones, business cards and velvet ropes. Hell, you can actually get into a screening here. But despite its laissez-faire attitude to the industry (the Festival is notorious for not offering travel to panelists), SXSW still knows its potential. Screening 200 films this year, it is continuing to grow exponentially. Yet with everyone calling it "the next Sundance," SXSW continues its effort to keep filmmaking paramount. With a stronger emphasis on operations, the Festival has shown that it can run smoothly. (Remember kids: reel four goes after reel three, not before it.) And the filmmakers also seemed much happier than in recent years. (Maybe it was the free Ring Dings from AtomFilms and all those barbecue luncheons.) Whatever the reason, it is clear that the Festival is paying attention to past complaints and the improvements show.

The documentary segment was extremely strong this year. Slamdance favorite The Target Shoots First by Chris Wilcha was the big winner. A disturbing exploration of the music industry and the filmmaker’s former employer, Columbia House, the film took home the Festival’s Audience and Jury Documentary award. Dark Days, Marc Singer’s ominous and dreamy exploration of New York City’s underground homeless, grabbed the Senior Programmer’s Pick and with it a five-minute standing ovation (well deserved for anyone who can get DJ Shadow to score their film). Paul Stekler and Daniel McCabe’s George Wallace: Settin’ the Woods on Fire, presented in conjunction with the Austin Film Society’s ongoing documentary series, packed the State Theater with its illuminating viewpoint on the infamous Alabama governor who used racism to fuel his political rise. And, I think, underappreciated despite winning a runner-up nod was the devastating personal doc Just, Melvin. Filmmaker James Ronald Whitney cathartically exorcises the legacy of his grandfather, a child molester, while cutting to footage of himself appearing on "Star Search" and other ’80s game shows. It’s crazy, but it works, and you can’t help but admire the filmmaker for tackling an intense personal tragedy with such conviction. This was also the first year for the National Association of Latino Independent producers, who presented Gregory Nava’s American Tapestry, a subtle film portraying generations of immigrant families struggling in America. On the other side of the convention center was the U.S. premiere of Grass, a competent and entertaining look at pot smokers. It was, of course, a big hit with the kids.

But it was the panel discussions and seminars that really distinguished SXSW. Local demigods Richard Linklater and Robert Rodriguez were back to share recent filmmaking experiences. Rodriguez and Ain’t-It-Cool-News honcho Harry Knowles teamed up with John Carpenter for a nostalgic revisitation of the horror director’s influential favorites. Another panel highpoint was John Pierson’s sneak preview of How’s Your News 2 – Voyage Across America, Arthur Bradford's touching and hilarious journey with five fledgling newscasters with Downs syndrome as they travel cross-country interviewing the American public at large. Laughing at the mentally handicapped might be shameful, but Bradford’s unassuming and genuine context lets the public know that everyone’s having a great time just being what they are – human.

SXSW and the Austin Film Society’s "American Maverick" series profiled Sam Peckinpah and the elusive Monte Hellman, confirming that Peckinpah is a god and Hellman one of his greatest disciples. Watching a brand-new 35mm print of Two-Lane Blacktop at the Alamo (guys actually serve you beer and chicken wings while you watch the movie) was worth the trip alone. With James Taylor (as "The Driver") and Dennis Wilson ("The Mechanic") in a cannonball race against Warren Oates ("G.T.O."), the film is pure fucking genius.

The narrative selection was, I think, the weakest part of the Festival. Splitting the award were two disaffected films, Rollercoaster, by Scott Smith, and Wildflowers, by Melissa Painter. Rollercoaster, a mix of comedy and drama, examines teen life through a defunct amusement park; Wildflowers is a somber tale of a young lesbian’s coming of age.

The audience, on the other hand, went for a bolder choice in Kwyn Bader’s Loving Jezebel. This delightful romantic comedy centers around its protagonist, Jezebel, a child of interracial parents, and throughout the film he falls in and out of love with women of all ethnicities. Other honorable mentions included a Dogme 95 comedy, Michael Apted’s Enigma, and Mark Hanlon’s Buddy Boy, which the director described as "Buñuel on acid."

On the whole this year’s SXSW ended up being what most attendees wanted it to be. George Ratliff, director of Plutonium Circus, which won Best Documentary here in 1995, attended this year as a judge. Talking to him, you can see why filmmakers are instinctually drawn to SXSW: "Austin’s just a great place to watch movies, and SXSW is big enough to be an important festival, but minus all that bullshit schmoozing. I mean, it’s a bunch of slackers for godssakes." From one slacker to another, I couldn’t agree more. – Josh Zeman



 
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