10 Reasons to Go to Your Local Film Festival

The 9th Annual Real to Reel Film Festival just closed in my chosen hometown and it's worthy of an entry. Turnout for this event is always far lower than I think it should be - all too often, we don't pay attention to the goings-on in our own backyard. Further, since I live in such a small town, I think there's a certain amount of "well, if the films were any good, they'd be entered in bigger festivals, so these must be pretty lousy." Not so, cynics. Here are ten reasons to mark your calendar for next year.

1. Not-quite-discovered gems like CRAZY and THE FLYBOYS. The first was a biopic of Hank Garland (yeah, I'd never heard of him, either. More's the pity.) and the second was a fun family romp involving airplanes, the Mob, and two new friends who bond over a stowaway adventure. (By the way, if you're a Browncoat I defy you to see FLYBOYS and not note that the two boys are Li'l Mal and Li'l Wash.) And the technology is changing - nine years ago, films were on VHS. Now we're on DVD, and FLYBOYS was actually the first hi-def film shown.
2. Four straight nights that give you an excuse to dress up. You don't have to; I saw plenty of flip-flops and shorts, but I like dressing up and this is a great chance to pull out the little black dress and see if I remember how to walk in high heels. (Lead with the toe, ladies, not the heel!)
3. Documentaries about people, places, and events you knew nothing about. I now have a new favorite saint and did you know there was an all Puerto Rican infantry regiment? Me neither.
4. Silent auctions. Every year, this is used as a fundraiser for the Arts Council and the packages all somehow tie in to movies. (I donated a copy of SERENITY and a copy of my book - called it the "Serenity Prayer Pack.") My favorite was probably the white water rafting trip that came with a copy of DELIVERANCE. Seriously.
5. Eating popcorn while in a cocktail dress. Out of the red and white striped box. While humming the "let's go out to the lobby" jingle.
6. Snarking at the mongrels that made it through the screening process. There are always one or two absolute travesties of films that get into the festival; usually due to some local connection. Even those can be fun, especially if you're a fan of the Mystery Science Theatre 3000 school of film criticism. One of these actually won for best amateur feature (I honestly think it was the only one in that category) and I'm sure it was accepted only because it was filmed in North Carolina. Dear God in heaven, it was awful. No, I won't provide the link. These people ought not to be encouraged.
7. Gala closing receptions. Nothing says "red carpet" like food served with toothpicks. I jest, but it is nice to have a chance to circulate and chat with other film-goers and some of the filmmakers.
8. The deal! Ticket prices are extremely low and one price will get you in all five sessions. (Four nights and a Saturday matinee.)
9. Freebies! There's always a "swag" table with promotional material and you never know - you might win a raffle prize. As proof, my "Space Chimps" T-shirt is whirling away in the dryer right now. Yeah, I know - what do I need a "Space Chimps" T-shirt for? But that's not really the point, is it?
10. Realizing that you're seeing things that commercial ticket-holders are going to miss. I wish more people would turn out for this event, but until then, I'm going to enjoy being one of the ones "in the know."

Mark your calendars now for next year! It'll be the 10th Annual, so there are bound to be some big surprises!

Something to Sing About!

A highlight of this past week had to be the broadcast of Dr. Horrible's Sing-a-Long Blog. Briefly, this was a 45-minute musical that came about during the dark days of the writers' strike that began last November. My hypothesis is that Joss Whedon has a touch of hamster in him - if he's not busy doing something creative, his teeth grow to a worrisome length. (Mind you, I have absolutely no proof for my hypothesis, but when's that ever stopped me? Exactly.) The show is a collaboration between Joss Whedon, his younger brother Jed, and Jed's partner, Maurissa Tancharoen. Each of the show's three parts was launched separately and the entire shebang was available only through July 20 (well, for free, anyway). Demand was incredible and the experience even led your intrepid blogger to finally puzzle out how to buy and download video from iTunes - and pay full retail, to boot! (Whether or not that newly-acquired skill turns out to be a positive thing is something that has yet to be determined.)

I'm not going to recap the show here, other than to say: Catchy tunes, strong voices (who knew that Nathan Fillion could work the power ballad?), quirky characters, interesting twists on costuming, and the mix of guffaw-funny and sudden heartstrings-tug that I've come to expect from Whedon, yet find myself surprised by all the same. I'm now a convert to the fanbase of Neil Patrick Harris and I challenge you to find either (a) a cuter bug's ear than Felicia Day or (b) a better villain nickname than that of "Bad Horse" who is known as the "thoroughbred of sin." For more, by all means check out the main site.

As is typical of Whedon's work, there are too many good lines to attempt to include them all, but I particularly like one of Penny's more plaintive lines as she reminds her "laundry buddy" that everything really isn't as grim as it may appear, so I'll close with that.

"Even in the darkness, every color can be found."

Seriously - buy this show.

Whaddya Mean "Back to School"?

Insofar as I am concerned, this "back to school" stuff has gotten seriously out of hand. I begin another two-week round of pre-registration for the fall semester on July 14; I can understand that. Students either hadn't made up their minds to start/return to school during our earlier registration offerings or (equally likely) what I shall refer to delicately as "outside forces" have converged to make registering for classes an exceedingly good idea. All of that is fine by me.

It's the other stuff.

Why, oh why, am I deluged with advertisements and fliers and perky on-air personalities exhorting me to take advantage of back-to-school bargains when August is weeks away? Let's look at this logically - in my part of the country, public schools can't begin before August 25. (That's by state statute - long story involving resort areas who need the cheap labor.) For the love of Heaven, rehearsals for high church (that's two-a-day high school football practices for those of you who benefit from translation) don't even traditionally begin until August 1. On that day (and not one sunbeam before) will I entertain the idea of the back-to-school season commencing.

Yes, yes, I'm being snarky. I'm also swamped in work for the fall semester that I'd enjoy putting off until August 1st, which very well may have something to do with the tone of this post.

But I'd enjoy the ice cream truck chimes not having to compete with the class-change bell.

A Challenge for the Holiday

I like the Fourth of July. Really, I do. To me, it's not about the hot dog cookouts and ice-cold watermelon. Heck, it's not even about the bottle rockets and Roman candles. And, although I am a fully-spurred Discount Knight, it's not about the sales. In fact, I make a firm vow to never, ever shop at any establishment that advertises "Freedom from high prices!" No, thank you. The Fourth is about much, much more than 20% off electronics.

To me, the Fourth is about taking a stand when you have absolutely no guarantee of a favorable outcome. The Declaration of Independence was (and is, for that matter) a completely radical and subversive document. Signing this was not the same as adding your name to an Internet petition - publicly supporting this idea could get you killed, in pretty nasty ways. And that was after your property had been confiscated to serve as a lesson to any others in the neighborhood who might harbor sympathies towards this independence thing.

Which brings me to my question: What do you think is worth taking a stand for? As that great philosopher Wolverine once put it, "There ain't no shortage of windmills to tilt at." So what's worth sticking your neck out to support? Ending child abuse? Fighting human trafficking? Encouraging people to "go green"? Whatever it may be, the Fourth is a great time to rededicate yourself to your chosen cause; to renew your pledge of your "life, your fortune, and your sacred honor."

Go for it!

Can't Stop the Signal

One of the core concepts of the movie SERENITY is the idea that you "can't stop the signal" - that information always goes out, even if it's buried under layers of distraction (like a Fruity Oaty Bar commercial). One of the ways that the Joss Whedon fandom is distinguished from other (somewhat rabid) fandoms is the level of activism; in a way, we often see ourselves as the "signal." Case in point -

Back in 2006, some fans wanted to figure out a way to get SERENITY back on the big screen. They settled on a charity screening, with proceeds to benefit the very worthy charity Equality Now, a human rights organization that focuses on issues facing women and girls. (A former student of Whedon's mother was a co-founder of the group, so there's your connection.) The group does some amazing work on issues that other (also worthy) groups don't deal with, such as stoning disobedient women, so-called "honor killings," and other dreadful practices. This is the third year of organized, worldwide screenings and the movement shows no signs of slowing down.

Last night, the Charlotte group had its screening - it was a blast! Raising money and awareness should always be fun, don't you think? The global goal this year is $150,000 and I believe the Charlotte group did its part to reach that goal. In addition to the screening, there was live entertainment (really amazing music), a costume contest, food, and a veritable treasure chest of raffle items. I contributed by having a table to sell my book, with autographs for an extra donation. I raised nearly $50, which I thought was pretty cool. Not to mention, it was great (and a little humbling) to meet people who had bought the book, read it, and wanted to chat about it.

These really are some of the best fans in the world.

To Arkadelphia!

I'll be gone for the next little bit. I'm off to the third biennial SLAYAGE conference; a conference devoted to the scholarly discussion of all things Joss Whedon. This year's version has attracted scholars from all across the US, the United Kingdom, Germany, Turkey, and I don't know where all. All of us are descending on the once-peaceful sleepy town (see previous post about "sleepy towns") of Arkadelphia, Arkansas where the lovely and open-minded Henderson State University has agreed to host us.

I'll be posting thoughts and observations from there over on the blog devoted more to Whedon material - you can access that by following this link - and I'll see you back here in a week or so!

Until then, keep safe and may all your vampires have souls!

Crisco!

I think that many people who don’t live in small towns think that nothing very interesting ever happens in them. These people use words like “sleepy” and “dull” to describe small town life and they often think that the inhabitants of small towns are unsophisticated rubes.

Clearly, they never met Crisco.

Let me explain. See, a few nights ago, I was two towns over having a frozen treat at Tony’s Ice Cream (makes Haagen-Dazs taste like Winn-Dixie ice milk, but that’s another story). After I wiped the final drips of butter pecan away, I wandered outside into the gathering twilight. I wasn’t really paying attention to where I was going; I was happy just drifting along under the clear night sky. Suddenly, a tall, rawboned man reached out a ham-sized hand to keep me from walking straight into him. I was embarrassed and stammered an apology for being so moonstruck by the beauty of the soft spring evening, but he just waved me off and said, “Now, miss, don’t you fret none. I get the same way when I’m working. You just have to kinda take in everything, don’t you? And it still runs over the edge of the cup.”

Turns out I had just run into (literally) the great up-and-coming installation artist, Crisco. He was in town planning his next huge scale project, which involves wrapping the local Sun-Drop bottling plant in thousands upon thousands of Moon Pie wrappers. I didn’t catch it all, but there was something about making a statement about consumerism and Southern identity and I don’t know what-all.

I tried to interject into the admittedly one-sided conversation. It sounded so similar – had he ever heard of the Bulgarian installation artist who made a world-wide name for himself with his colorful huge scale wrapping projects involving islands, buildings, and Central Park? Although I’m pretty sure that guy doesn’t carry a Cheerwine bottle with a paper napkin shoved down it to catch the residue from the pinch of Skoal he had tucked into his lower cheek, giving him the look of a plaid-draped squirrel.

He looked surprised. “Sounds like this fella is trying to rip off my good name and work. I’m Crisco. There’s only one of me, no matter what this European might try to say. Wanna Moon Pie? I need the wrapper.”

Only in a small Southern town.