I ought to make this my last post. Thanks to those of you who have been reading this all along.
I may have been vague on some details, partly because the festival is a professional outlet for me, and I want to keep on the up and up. I'm also vague bc I value the company I keep out there, and I don't want to say anything that would jeopardize some of my relationships. I would make a terrible gossip rag hag.
Reading my hometown paper's coverage of the festival has been amusing, from the day they referred to Park City as a 'quaint mountain town'. There's been so much development out here in the nine years I've been coming, Park City really isn't the same place. It isn't just the festival, which has indeed grown. The tech and media bubbles at the turn of the century pushed the boundaries, but the Olympics really pushed Park City over the edge. There are more condos developed out here, chains have bought local establishments, and the festival has had to fight the sense of becoming a market instead of a festival.
My hometown paper has coverage here and here.
Heath Ledger died, and that was weird.
I found myself wondering where the festival fits into my life. I know several regulars out there, folks I only see there and on Facebook. Most are Canadians, and because of that, I am ofte assumed to be Canadian myself. I think I decided that the festival is where I get to be an experienced leader, part of a team outside of my regular workspace. I get to work with the people I always thought I should be running with, the cool kids, now a little bit more grown up.
None of us were into heavy partying this year. There were parties, at our house and elsewhere, but we are all more relaxed, more settled into our careers or at least working hard to keep them going. It's just a different place than when I first started going in my twenties, not long out of college, when it was fun enough to drink and dance and mingle with the starz.
But, as Kevin Smith often quotes, "What have we learned, Charlie Brown?" That the industry is just that, an industry; that dreams are dreams but filmmaking is hard work; that people, en masse, are animals, or children, or a little bit of both; and that some nights, you can lie in a hot tub, surrounded by ice, stare up at a clear night sky and all the stars and the moon, and think, this is a pretty good life.
And then you get in the car to the airport, and you fly back home, and you go to work the next day, wondering what will happen during the year that will pass until then.
adieu
For more blogging from Julie, visit her post site.
Thursday, January 31, 2008
Tuesday, January 29, 2008
Monday, January 28, 2008
Julie's Favorite Films are about America's Problems and Come from Her Greatest Enemies
Let's review briefly. There were three films that I really enjoyed. This may not sound like much, but I only got to see six or seven films, if you count Shorts Program IV as one film.
There is a quote attributed to Mitt Romney, Mormon runing for President, wherein he compares Iran to the two greatest threats the US has ever faced: the Soviet Union and Nazi Germany.
I highly recommend I.O.U.S.A., a documentary about the fiscal straits the United States finds itself in. The film does an excellent job of explaining what the problem is, the history of our national debt, and the consequences of not resolving the issue. It also follows efforts to raise awareness of the issue. I hope that as many Americans as possible have the opportunity to see the film before the elections in November.
I had a bit of sentimental attachment to The Wave, a German film about a modern German social studies teacher who is assigned to teach a week long project class on autocracy. His students, raised with the pervasive message that they have a special responsibility to prevent the rise of Nazis again, are bored, until he turns them into a coherent unit with uniforms, a logo, and a sense of purpose. The film is interesting because it follow the stories of individual students, all of whom fall for the movement for very different reasons: to belong, to succeed, to surmount the social and cultural identities that work against them in mainstream contemporary society.
From Russia, I enjoyed the gritty yet whimsical Mermaid. It's the story of a girl who seems to have the ability to grant wishes, and once established in Moscow she begins to find herself, her voice, and pursues true love. The film plays like a sharper-edged Amelie, with an ending that shocks and makes a strong statement against the sentimentality of that film. There is no other way the film could have ended without feeling trite, yet the ending will leave your job on the floor.
Someone pointed out that the theme in winners this year was cold, desolate environments. There was a documentary about the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina, there was a Swedish film set in a bleak northern town, and there was Frozen River, a film whose title alone belies the ardent crossing of a single mother with a tourette'-stricken son.
It's easy to read too much of the political into the cultural, especially in a festival that brings in so many foreign films and films that, while seemingly topical, have been so many years in the making that any relation to present circumstances is coincidental. All the same, as we end a festival filled with labor shortages, a rampant virus, and two straight days of snow being blown across the mountaintops, it's hard not to make comparisons between present circumstances and the stories we are drawn to; after all, we do tend to make sense of the world around us with the stories we tell ourselves at night.
Several of my friends here are Canadians, and they have enjoyed the current exchange rate. I was also raised in an international environment, and I converse freely with citizens of countries other than the United States. Instead of the alarmist rantings of many of our politicians, the refrain I hear most often from outsiders is that we have simply lost our way. The world looks to the United States for leadership, and the leadership of the past few years has been remarkably misguided.
I wish more Americans could get outside their localized bubbles, could see stories from other countries and realize how they apply to their countries of origin as well as to the common human condition we all share. There are dangers in the world, not least of which is moving forward in the wrong direction while firmly convinced it is the right one.
There are many films here, and I wish I could have seen them all. At the very least, I hope the three I've mentioned here are picked up and distributed. They all deserve to be seen, and their stories can be informative to all.
There is a quote attributed to Mitt Romney, Mormon runing for President, wherein he compares Iran to the two greatest threats the US has ever faced: the Soviet Union and Nazi Germany.
I highly recommend I.O.U.S.A., a documentary about the fiscal straits the United States finds itself in. The film does an excellent job of explaining what the problem is, the history of our national debt, and the consequences of not resolving the issue. It also follows efforts to raise awareness of the issue. I hope that as many Americans as possible have the opportunity to see the film before the elections in November.
I had a bit of sentimental attachment to The Wave, a German film about a modern German social studies teacher who is assigned to teach a week long project class on autocracy. His students, raised with the pervasive message that they have a special responsibility to prevent the rise of Nazis again, are bored, until he turns them into a coherent unit with uniforms, a logo, and a sense of purpose. The film is interesting because it follow the stories of individual students, all of whom fall for the movement for very different reasons: to belong, to succeed, to surmount the social and cultural identities that work against them in mainstream contemporary society.
From Russia, I enjoyed the gritty yet whimsical Mermaid. It's the story of a girl who seems to have the ability to grant wishes, and once established in Moscow she begins to find herself, her voice, and pursues true love. The film plays like a sharper-edged Amelie, with an ending that shocks and makes a strong statement against the sentimentality of that film. There is no other way the film could have ended without feeling trite, yet the ending will leave your job on the floor.
Someone pointed out that the theme in winners this year was cold, desolate environments. There was a documentary about the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina, there was a Swedish film set in a bleak northern town, and there was Frozen River, a film whose title alone belies the ardent crossing of a single mother with a tourette'-stricken son.
It's easy to read too much of the political into the cultural, especially in a festival that brings in so many foreign films and films that, while seemingly topical, have been so many years in the making that any relation to present circumstances is coincidental. All the same, as we end a festival filled with labor shortages, a rampant virus, and two straight days of snow being blown across the mountaintops, it's hard not to make comparisons between present circumstances and the stories we are drawn to; after all, we do tend to make sense of the world around us with the stories we tell ourselves at night.
Several of my friends here are Canadians, and they have enjoyed the current exchange rate. I was also raised in an international environment, and I converse freely with citizens of countries other than the United States. Instead of the alarmist rantings of many of our politicians, the refrain I hear most often from outsiders is that we have simply lost our way. The world looks to the United States for leadership, and the leadership of the past few years has been remarkably misguided.
I wish more Americans could get outside their localized bubbles, could see stories from other countries and realize how they apply to their countries of origin as well as to the common human condition we all share. There are dangers in the world, not least of which is moving forward in the wrong direction while firmly convinced it is the right one.
There are many films here, and I wish I could have seen them all. At the very least, I hope the three I've mentioned here are picked up and distributed. They all deserve to be seen, and their stories can be informative to all.
Saturday, January 26, 2008
Mermaid
I managed to crawl out of bed early enough this morning to catch another movie I wanted to see: the Russian film Mermaid, while is sort of like a grittier Amelie set in Russian's booming economy.
Little Alise grows up on the coast (the Black Sea?) with her mother and grandmother. She longs to be a ballerina but never gets her chance. She is convinced that she has the power to make wishes come true, and when she longs to simply leave, she summons a storm that destroys her village, prompting the family to move to Moscow.
After that, the movie becomes more of a story about being a young woman in a big city. There are some details and nuances that make it very interesting. I will only say that the ending had my jaw drop in shock.
It has won a World Dramatic Directing Award for director Anna Melikyan. I really hope it gets picked up. It's an excellent film and I heartily recommend it.
Little Alise grows up on the coast (the Black Sea?) with her mother and grandmother. She longs to be a ballerina but never gets her chance. She is convinced that she has the power to make wishes come true, and when she longs to simply leave, she summons a storm that destroys her village, prompting the family to move to Moscow.
After that, the movie becomes more of a story about being a young woman in a big city. There are some details and nuances that make it very interesting. I will only say that the ending had my jaw drop in shock.
It has won a World Dramatic Directing Award for director Anna Melikyan. I really hope it gets picked up. It's an excellent film and I heartily recommend it.
My Flesh Has Contacted the Raiments of a Rock God
"BT to Julie."
"Go for Julie."
"Can you check the information booth lost and found for a scarf?"
"Copy that."
[[minutes later]]
"I've got a brown knit scarf and a black and gray scarf."
[[pause]]
"Can you bring the black and gray scarf to the back hallway?"
"Affirmative."
I made my way to the back hallway, which is the secured access route to where film talent hangs out. It's the 'backstage' of our venue.
I met BT.
"Thanks. It's David Crosby's"
Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I have touched up the raiments of David Crosby, folk rock elder and celebrated sperm donor.
"Go for Julie."
"Can you check the information booth lost and found for a scarf?"
"Copy that."
[[minutes later]]
"I've got a brown knit scarf and a black and gray scarf."
[[pause]]
"Can you bring the black and gray scarf to the back hallway?"
"Affirmative."
I made my way to the back hallway, which is the secured access route to where film talent hangs out. It's the 'backstage' of our venue.
I met BT.
"Thanks. It's David Crosby's"
Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I have touched up the raiments of David Crosby, folk rock elder and celebrated sperm donor.
CSNY
We were short staffed. I realized later that evening that none of the volunteers we had started with were still with us, except for some of the locals who work as ushers and ticket takers. They tend to be their own entity. I never did have a consistent box office or outside staff.
Our 6:15 crowd was cranky. At this point I'm inured to it. One guy threatened violence but backed off; he was later very rude, but left before we could call security.
I was worried about our 9:30 show, a documentary about Crosby, Stills, Nash, and Young, called Deja Vu: CSNY. Apparently it was really good. All four members of the famed band showed up and did a quick Q&A.
Thw crowd was mellow. We had expected a large, crazy turnout, but we got everyone in from the waitlist and actualy started on time.
Our 6:15 crowd was cranky. At this point I'm inured to it. One guy threatened violence but backed off; he was later very rude, but left before we could call security.
I was worried about our 9:30 show, a documentary about Crosby, Stills, Nash, and Young, called Deja Vu: CSNY. Apparently it was really good. All four members of the famed band showed up and did a quick Q&A.
Thw crowd was mellow. We had expected a large, crazy turnout, but we got everyone in from the waitlist and actualy started on time.
Late Pickup
We had locked up after the CSNY film. The people who run the building were already on their way out, in the parking lot. The building was locked.
A woman walked up, asking if we'd found car keys. We had, three hours earlier, and no one had come to claim them. It turned out she had parked far away and had made it all the way back to her car without them.
We were in the process of turning her away when a Sundance van drove up. The driver was looking for a cel phone. As it turned out, the super for the building was still in the parking lot, and he let us back in.
Sure enough, we had the phone and the keys. I made two people happy by staying after midnight. In return, I got a ride home in the van.
A woman walked up, asking if we'd found car keys. We had, three hours earlier, and no one had come to claim them. It turned out she had parked far away and had made it all the way back to her car without them.
We were in the process of turning her away when a Sundance van drove up. The driver was looking for a cel phone. As it turned out, the super for the building was still in the parking lot, and he let us back in.
Sure enough, we had the phone and the keys. I made two people happy by staying after midnight. In return, I got a ride home in the van.
Friday, January 25, 2008
Jurors
I don't have a complete list of jurors in front of my, but this year we have some notables. Quentin Tarantino, Marcia Gay Harden, and Sandra Oh are probably the best known names, but I also recognize Anne Sundberg, whom I first encountered (and was probably forgettable to) when she was in development at HBO NYC many years ago.
I've only seen Quentin. As it turns out, one day he showed up at my theatre and stood in the wait list line, which is in a tent outside the main building. At first, I had heard one of our volunteers put hi there, but QT himself chose to stand in line. Later, I saw him coming out of the theatre. I didn't interact with him personally but he seemed nice enough. He's a big guy, but still kind of a film geek.
I've only seen Quentin. As it turns out, one day he showed up at my theatre and stood in the wait list line, which is in a tent outside the main building. At first, I had heard one of our volunteers put hi there, but QT himself chose to stand in line. Later, I saw him coming out of the theatre. I didn't interact with him personally but he seemed nice enough. He's a big guy, but still kind of a film geek.
Thursday, January 24, 2008
The Wave
Tonight, Day 6 (is it? I lose track) I watched a German film titled 'The Wave'. It's about a social studies teacher in a German high school who conducts a week-long social experiment with his studies to illustrate the temptation and power of fascism. As students who have been taught about the Nazis their entire lives, they are an apathetic lot, but by the end of the week they are an unstoppable force that the teacher can barely control.
The film is described as 'based on a true story', which is both a slight exaggeration and a very apt description. In the late 1960s, a Palo Alto teacher conducted a similar experiment, and in a week's time his class's fascist gang had expanded to 800 students spread across three high schools. In the film, they only expand to 150 students, but in addition to the beatings there is one attempted murder, one shooting and one more traumatic event that I won't detail for those who will see the film.
This film is a very powerful story, and the German context heightens the relief. I wholeheartedly recommend this film.
The film is described as 'based on a true story', which is both a slight exaggeration and a very apt description. In the late 1960s, a Palo Alto teacher conducted a similar experiment, and in a week's time his class's fascist gang had expanded to 800 students spread across three high schools. In the film, they only expand to 150 students, but in addition to the beatings there is one attempted murder, one shooting and one more traumatic event that I won't detail for those who will see the film.
This film is a very powerful story, and the German context heightens the relief. I wholeheartedly recommend this film.
Briefly
It's Thursday - what day number does this work out to? I can't believe how quickly this festival has flown by. Maybe it's bc I'm more settled in to a routine here. In just four days I'll be flying back home to NYC. I already miss the mountains, which are just part of the natural beauty out here.
There are a few items I haven't had time to write up properly.
Last week one of my co-workers went to a party with a girl friend. Of course there was a line, and of course there were bouncers. They quickly noticed that hot girls were allowed in more quickly and more often, and sure enough, my housemate was soon standing in line without his girl friend. But then, the guy deciding who got in and who got to stay out in the cold came out referred to my housemate as Scott Baio. 'Scott Baio, let's get Scott Baio in here!' My friend took umbrage, happy to be let in but not under such circumstances. 'Ok,' said the admittance clerk, or whatever he was. 'Scott Baio look-a-like, come on in!'
One of the most amusing titles here is the film 'Good Dick'. When I was working, I couldn't refer t it by title. I could only call it my 3:15 show, as in, 'anyone here for the 3:15? Hard Tickets for the 3:15 please line up over here.' And so on.
Imagine if I'd had to tell people where to waitlist for Good Dick, or that we would soon be opening the lobby for Good Dick. Several people came up to me and asked me if our theatre was where they could see Good Dick, with the straightest of faces.
Similarly difficult was the title 'What Just Happened'. The first time someone came up to me and said they were there to see 'What Just Happened' I asked them, in all seriousness, what had just happened, thinking they meant an accident.
There are a few items I haven't had time to write up properly.
Last week one of my co-workers went to a party with a girl friend. Of course there was a line, and of course there were bouncers. They quickly noticed that hot girls were allowed in more quickly and more often, and sure enough, my housemate was soon standing in line without his girl friend. But then, the guy deciding who got in and who got to stay out in the cold came out referred to my housemate as Scott Baio. 'Scott Baio, let's get Scott Baio in here!' My friend took umbrage, happy to be let in but not under such circumstances. 'Ok,' said the admittance clerk, or whatever he was. 'Scott Baio look-a-like, come on in!'
One of the most amusing titles here is the film 'Good Dick'. When I was working, I couldn't refer t it by title. I could only call it my 3:15 show, as in, 'anyone here for the 3:15? Hard Tickets for the 3:15 please line up over here.' And so on.
Imagine if I'd had to tell people where to waitlist for Good Dick, or that we would soon be opening the lobby for Good Dick. Several people came up to me and asked me if our theatre was where they could see Good Dick, with the straightest of faces.
Similarly difficult was the title 'What Just Happened'. The first time someone came up to me and said they were there to see 'What Just Happened' I asked them, in all seriousness, what had just happened, thinking they meant an accident.
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
A Mild Day
Mild. The early show was only 800+ people for my 1200+ theater. The midday show was busier but not busy. Light stomach turbulence the whole way through.
There was a man I interacted with who was disgruntled with his experience at another theater, and threated to harrass people at mine. Security followed him around and kept an eye on him. It's funny, it never seemed like a big deal, but it seemed like there was potential for a big deal.
The last show of the afternoon was a screen adaptation of 'A Raisin in the Sun', featuring Phylicia Rashad and Sean Combs. Tonight, I am going to try to make it to a reward party and then a movie called 'The Wave', about a German social studies teacher who tries to teach his students about the Nazis by setting up a little facism in the classroom.
There was a man I interacted with who was disgruntled with his experience at another theater, and threated to harrass people at mine. Security followed him around and kept an eye on him. It's funny, it never seemed like a big deal, but it seemed like there was potential for a big deal.
The last show of the afternoon was a screen adaptation of 'A Raisin in the Sun', featuring Phylicia Rashad and Sean Combs. Tonight, I am going to try to make it to a reward party and then a movie called 'The Wave', about a German social studies teacher who tries to teach his students about the Nazis by setting up a little facism in the classroom.
A Plague Descends Upon Us
I'm back on days, going home around midnight last night and coming back to work at 7:30 this morning. Last night I settled up my safe and paperwork, so this morning's set up has been a breeze. The crowd has been better than mild. We're on a turnover day, the midpoint of the festival, which is traditionally the slow period as people with passes for the first half leave and people with passes for the second half trickle in. It's quiet.
Many people are sick, or have been sick, or are starting to feel sick. Yesterday there were reports of either food poisoning or stomach flu. As it stands, two of the people I regularly share the office with were sick after leaving work yesterday and are back to work today; my counterpart on the other shift has reported as sick, and the local building staff have already suffered two or three casualties, including a ski bum who announced this morning that he had two sips of juice before he 'launched'.
Yeah, that's the news I want to start my morning with.
In other news, Heath Ledger's sudden and mysterious death has caught us all by surprise. Not that we knew him, but the news was clearly on the mind of some of the filmmakers and talent we saw last night. Other reports described entire movie houses here that lit up with Blackberries and iPhones and Treos as the news filtered in.
We are in a strange lull, these doldrums. The moon was out in full force last night in a cloudles sky, blue moonlight reflecting off the snow. This morning the moon was still high in the sky, oppoiste its position in the sky from last night.
Many people are sick, or have been sick, or are starting to feel sick. Yesterday there were reports of either food poisoning or stomach flu. As it stands, two of the people I regularly share the office with were sick after leaving work yesterday and are back to work today; my counterpart on the other shift has reported as sick, and the local building staff have already suffered two or three casualties, including a ski bum who announced this morning that he had two sips of juice before he 'launched'.
Yeah, that's the news I want to start my morning with.
In other news, Heath Ledger's sudden and mysterious death has caught us all by surprise. Not that we knew him, but the news was clearly on the mind of some of the filmmakers and talent we saw last night. Other reports described entire movie houses here that lit up with Blackberries and iPhones and Treos as the news filtered in.
We are in a strange lull, these doldrums. The moon was out in full force last night in a cloudles sky, blue moonlight reflecting off the snow. This morning the moon was still high in the sky, oppoiste its position in the sky from last night.
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
I.O.U.S.A.
I just saw a great documentary called I.O.U.S.A., about America's debt problems. It is fantastic and lays it out in very plain terms: the history of our national debt, four deficits, including a leadership deficit, and the mechanics of the current situation.
Almost fifty percent of our publicly held debt is held by foreign residents.
The last time we have zero debt was the 1830s.
The Civil War was the first time our debt ballooned.
Generally, wars and public works initiatives tend to skyrocket our debt.
It is a fantastic documentary and prominently features our current Comptroller going on tours across the country with other concerned non-partisan groups to alert the voting population to the issue.
It's a problem that can be solved, but will require effort.Go see this! I'm sure it will get picked up.
Almost fifty percent of our publicly held debt is held by foreign residents.
The last time we have zero debt was the 1830s.
The Civil War was the first time our debt ballooned.
Generally, wars and public works initiatives tend to skyrocket our debt.
It is a fantastic documentary and prominently features our current Comptroller going on tours across the country with other concerned non-partisan groups to alert the voting population to the issue.
It's a problem that can be solved, but will require effort.Go see this! I'm sure it will get picked up.
One More Thing
This made waves the other day: Bono's reaction to a patron who inquired about the band's future plans for 3D filmmaking.
This is at the theatre I work at, though I wasn't there at the time.
This is at the theatre I work at, though I wasn't there at the time.
Name Dropping
OK, here are my famous people sightings, for those of you who care about such things.
On opening night (I think, seems like forevah ago) McG, who is the director of such films as 'Charlie's Angels' and 'Charlie's Angels: Full Throttle', was in the lobby. He looks like Richie Cunningham, only more smug. I found an entourage team member to help him out, and he thanked me.
"Can I do anything for you?", he asked.
I paused, trying to think of a joke.
"No, I'm fine, unless you want to talk to two hundred people waiting in the waitlist line."
I smiled. He smiled back. There was a brief, pregnant pause.
"I don't know that I would do any good there. But thanks."
"Thank you," I said, and he turned back to his companions.
I've gone one a bit about Bono. He really does have a strong fan base. At one point, when my waitlist for the U2 3D film extended past four hundred people lined up over four hours before the movie started, this girl with great makeup and a bad complexion pulled me aside after trying to sweet talk my boss into letting her in.
"So what kind of man is he," she asked. "Can he be won over, like, if I bring him cookies, or hot chocolate for five days?"
"Um, well," I stalled, thinking this could be fun. "He's a pretty straight shooter. What have you got to offer?"
"I don't know, food, or alcohol, we could go out back and get it done pretty quick."
I was pretty sure what she meant about that. "I'll let him know."
We all got a laugh out of that later.
I opened the door for Alan Rickman. When I arrived for work, I saw the paparazzi crowding around a man I could only see from behind. I went up the stairs and glanced behind me. He was tall, handsome, older, with white hair. I wasn't totally sure till I reality checked with my friends in the office - by which time, Alan and his entourage were right behind me, so as I entered the building, I held the door open for him.
I've never been one for celebrity culture, but I have to admit, stars have start quality. It isn't limited to stars - I've met many non-famous people who have a quality that inspires awe and confidence - but the people who do quality work over and over definitely have it. But maybe that's the real definition of a star - not someone famous, but someone who does a great job over and over and displays that sort of confidence without even thinking about it.
On opening night (I think, seems like forevah ago) McG, who is the director of such films as 'Charlie's Angels' and 'Charlie's Angels: Full Throttle', was in the lobby. He looks like Richie Cunningham, only more smug. I found an entourage team member to help him out, and he thanked me.
"Can I do anything for you?", he asked.
I paused, trying to think of a joke.
"No, I'm fine, unless you want to talk to two hundred people waiting in the waitlist line."
I smiled. He smiled back. There was a brief, pregnant pause.
"I don't know that I would do any good there. But thanks."
"Thank you," I said, and he turned back to his companions.
I've gone one a bit about Bono. He really does have a strong fan base. At one point, when my waitlist for the U2 3D film extended past four hundred people lined up over four hours before the movie started, this girl with great makeup and a bad complexion pulled me aside after trying to sweet talk my boss into letting her in.
"So what kind of man is he," she asked. "Can he be won over, like, if I bring him cookies, or hot chocolate for five days?"
"Um, well," I stalled, thinking this could be fun. "He's a pretty straight shooter. What have you got to offer?"
"I don't know, food, or alcohol, we could go out back and get it done pretty quick."
I was pretty sure what she meant about that. "I'll let him know."
We all got a laugh out of that later.
I opened the door for Alan Rickman. When I arrived for work, I saw the paparazzi crowding around a man I could only see from behind. I went up the stairs and glanced behind me. He was tall, handsome, older, with white hair. I wasn't totally sure till I reality checked with my friends in the office - by which time, Alan and his entourage were right behind me, so as I entered the building, I held the door open for him.
I've never been one for celebrity culture, but I have to admit, stars have start quality. It isn't limited to stars - I've met many non-famous people who have a quality that inspires awe and confidence - but the people who do quality work over and over definitely have it. But maybe that's the real definition of a star - not someone famous, but someone who does a great job over and over and displays that sort of confidence without even thinking about it.
Monday, January 21, 2008
FLOW: For Love of Water
Saw a documentary today, titled 'FLOW: For Love of Water'. I picked it bc the description sounded less alarmist that 'Fields of Fuel', which is about the looming energy crisis. I was mistaken: FLOW is very alarmist.
It covers two basic points, the second more than the third. First of all, that our drinking water supply, even in the US and other 'first world' countries, isn't as clean as we think it is. There was mention several times of 'rocket fuel' being in our water, but that point was only lightly substantiated at the end. the main point of the film was the problematic privatization of water at several levels: the World Bank loaning billions of dollars for new dam constructions, contracts and deals preventing poor villagers from using their existing pump wells, and the bizaare ecological and economic results of corporate bottling plants taking water from property they own and reselling it to the local population, even as the surrounding water system declines due to the pumping activity.
It's a very bold-voiced documentary that shades in some details of a growing issue at international and local levels. If it gets picked up, it's worth seeing.
Preceded by 'My Biodegreadable Heart', a cute animation piece where a young man pitches woo at a girl who measures her answers in biodegradable factoids.
It covers two basic points, the second more than the third. First of all, that our drinking water supply, even in the US and other 'first world' countries, isn't as clean as we think it is. There was mention several times of 'rocket fuel' being in our water, but that point was only lightly substantiated at the end. the main point of the film was the problematic privatization of water at several levels: the World Bank loaning billions of dollars for new dam constructions, contracts and deals preventing poor villagers from using their existing pump wells, and the bizaare ecological and economic results of corporate bottling plants taking water from property they own and reselling it to the local population, even as the surrounding water system declines due to the pumping activity.
It's a very bold-voiced documentary that shades in some details of a growing issue at international and local levels. If it gets picked up, it's worth seeing.
Preceded by 'My Biodegreadable Heart', a cute animation piece where a young man pitches woo at a girl who measures her answers in biodegradable factoids.
Another Irishman
Another Irishman
Friday was the last night before the big U2 event. Saturday, the crew opposite mine was supposed to be premiering the U23D movie at 9:45 PM and showing it again at midnight. As it turned out, Bono was coming in for a final sound check.
Strictly speaking, I didn't have to stay after our last movie, but I did, ostensibly to help out with the crowd. You'd be surprised at how many people like to loiter in a theatre lobby after midnight when a film gets out. Well, maybe not. It was pretty cold outside. We kicked them out, called them cabs, and checked the building for loiterers.
Somewhere, out in the Park City darkness, a Chevy Suburban was circling for a landing. The team that handles VIPs kept in radio contact with them and checked in with us to make sure the house was clear. I walked through the ladies room to make sure no one was hiding out there, lurking for Bono.
After the building was cleared, we stood outside in the sub-zero temperatures as we tried to clear the parking lot. Whose car was that? Why was that taxi entering the lot? We kicked them all out. We stood for about ten minutes as the VIP team checked with the vehicle team. Finally, they began their approach.
The Suburban emerged from the darkness of Kearns Boulevard like a ship in the fog. The running lights were the first tell-tale signs. the driver pulled into the parking lot when suddenly, a small car darted in behind it and approached our landing strip! The car pulled ahead and came to us first. It was a woman we recognized from the waitlist line. One of our volunteers stepped out to greet her.
"Is this where U2 is playing?"
We were all shocked. This midnight rendezvous was supposed to be top secret, hush hush, on the QT, the down-low, however you want to put it.
As it turned out, she was there to pick up her daughter, who had tickets to the Saturday night show. She just had the day wrong. She left, and Bono's chariot finally docked at our entrance.
He emerged. He looks as he does in photos. Someone said he looked shorter, but I wouldn't say he looked short. He had on his trademark glasses and a thick Russian-style hate with a pin in the front. He was greeted by his handlers and a woman who, I'm not sure who she was, and they proceeded into the lobby.
My friends had all anticipated the entire band setting up and going through a traditional sound check, but as far as we knew, it was just Bono, and the tech crew was checking the equipment for the 3D film and the kick-ass sound system, whatever it was called.
The funniest site was the cleaning crew mopping the tile circle in the lobby.
I've overheard mixed reactions to the whole U2 presence. I like U2; I remember listening to The Joshua Tree over and over in my first year of high school, the entire album was just amazing. Bono does seem to genuinely care about the issues he supports; he's not a vapid rock star. It's my indie friends who kind of harumph about him, and theat just may be the indie world rocking against the super-stratosphere rock band world.
Whatevs. It was cool to see Bono, the movie is interesting, and the band rocks, over twenty five years after they started. That's impressive.
Friday was the last night before the big U2 event. Saturday, the crew opposite mine was supposed to be premiering the U23D movie at 9:45 PM and showing it again at midnight. As it turned out, Bono was coming in for a final sound check.
Strictly speaking, I didn't have to stay after our last movie, but I did, ostensibly to help out with the crowd. You'd be surprised at how many people like to loiter in a theatre lobby after midnight when a film gets out. Well, maybe not. It was pretty cold outside. We kicked them out, called them cabs, and checked the building for loiterers.
Somewhere, out in the Park City darkness, a Chevy Suburban was circling for a landing. The team that handles VIPs kept in radio contact with them and checked in with us to make sure the house was clear. I walked through the ladies room to make sure no one was hiding out there, lurking for Bono.
After the building was cleared, we stood outside in the sub-zero temperatures as we tried to clear the parking lot. Whose car was that? Why was that taxi entering the lot? We kicked them all out. We stood for about ten minutes as the VIP team checked with the vehicle team. Finally, they began their approach.
The Suburban emerged from the darkness of Kearns Boulevard like a ship in the fog. The running lights were the first tell-tale signs. the driver pulled into the parking lot when suddenly, a small car darted in behind it and approached our landing strip! The car pulled ahead and came to us first. It was a woman we recognized from the waitlist line. One of our volunteers stepped out to greet her.
"Is this where U2 is playing?"
We were all shocked. This midnight rendezvous was supposed to be top secret, hush hush, on the QT, the down-low, however you want to put it.
As it turned out, she was there to pick up her daughter, who had tickets to the Saturday night show. She just had the day wrong. She left, and Bono's chariot finally docked at our entrance.
He emerged. He looks as he does in photos. Someone said he looked shorter, but I wouldn't say he looked short. He had on his trademark glasses and a thick Russian-style hate with a pin in the front. He was greeted by his handlers and a woman who, I'm not sure who she was, and they proceeded into the lobby.
My friends had all anticipated the entire band setting up and going through a traditional sound check, but as far as we knew, it was just Bono, and the tech crew was checking the equipment for the 3D film and the kick-ass sound system, whatever it was called.
The funniest site was the cleaning crew mopping the tile circle in the lobby.
I've overheard mixed reactions to the whole U2 presence. I like U2; I remember listening to The Joshua Tree over and over in my first year of high school, the entire album was just amazing. Bono does seem to genuinely care about the issues he supports; he's not a vapid rock star. It's my indie friends who kind of harumph about him, and theat just may be the indie world rocking against the super-stratosphere rock band world.
Whatevs. It was cool to see Bono, the movie is interesting, and the band rocks, over twenty five years after they started. That's impressive.
Problems
OK, after two days of painful withdrawal symptoms, I've gotten some internet access. I'll try to be more regular from now on.
That, and Blogger's transliteration feature can f*** off. That was the cause of question marks in my post titles.
Stay tuned, readers, and please write.
That, and Blogger's transliteration feature can f*** off. That was the cause of question marks in my post titles.
Stay tuned, readers, and please write.
Sleep Dealer
OK, I've seen only two movies so far. Today (Sunday, Day 3) I've seen nothing, too weary from a long day standing in the snow, to see anything more than the opening scenes of Batman Begins on FX.
I saw some shorts earlier; last night I watched a Mexican film titled 'Sleep Dealer'. I should say that I watched only most of it. The films was good, but I was so tired from work at the late showing that I walked out once I felt I knew how the plot would play out.
Sleep Dealer has tones of the Matrix sifted over a light base of the ilagro Beanfield War, filtered in the style of a telenovella. The plot is interesting, though some of the effects who the limits of the filmmaker's budget.
The basic is this: Memo, a young man who helps his father work their meager farm in Oaxcaca, is something of a hacker, cobbing together a sort of short-wave networking computer that allows him to listen in to the voices of the global digerati he so desperately wants to join. His father obtains water from the local reservoir, created by a dam a giant corporation built. In the future, giant corporations buy up water rights and charge hefty fees for usage, building barbed wire fences with automated machine guns guarding access.
One day, Memo hacks into the conversations between some cyber fighter jocks. While at a party in another town, his brother watches a show that is like a cross between America's Most Wanted and the coverage of Desert Storm. They watch as a young cyber pilot, Rudy, flies his first solo mission against a suspected aqua-terrorist who tapped into their secure communications. Memo and his brother watch their father killed on television as the fighter attacks their farm.
Memo goes to work in the big city, and in short order meets a nice girl who sells her memories online. After Memo is robbed in a dark alley, she helps him get 'nodes' for connecting to the worldwide information grid, and he gets a job as a construction worker. In the future, Mexican laborers connect to the internet and operate construction robots all over the world in a sort of full-sensory virtualized stupor.
Memo's relationship with the girl falters and grows again. The figher pilot turns out to be buying her memories of Memo and finally tracks him down to apologize. In a dramatic scene on a bus, the fighter pilot agrees to help Memo avenge his father's death. It's at this point that I walked out, assuming the pilot and/or Memo hijack a military cyber jet to blow up the dam and provide free water.
Viva!
It's actually not a bad film. It's interesting, and the cultural difference for me made it more watchable than, say, an American version of the film might have been.
I saw some shorts earlier; last night I watched a Mexican film titled 'Sleep Dealer'. I should say that I watched only most of it. The films was good, but I was so tired from work at the late showing that I walked out once I felt I knew how the plot would play out.
Sleep Dealer has tones of the Matrix sifted over a light base of the ilagro Beanfield War, filtered in the style of a telenovella. The plot is interesting, though some of the effects who the limits of the filmmaker's budget.
The basic is this: Memo, a young man who helps his father work their meager farm in Oaxcaca, is something of a hacker, cobbing together a sort of short-wave networking computer that allows him to listen in to the voices of the global digerati he so desperately wants to join. His father obtains water from the local reservoir, created by a dam a giant corporation built. In the future, giant corporations buy up water rights and charge hefty fees for usage, building barbed wire fences with automated machine guns guarding access.
One day, Memo hacks into the conversations between some cyber fighter jocks. While at a party in another town, his brother watches a show that is like a cross between America's Most Wanted and the coverage of Desert Storm. They watch as a young cyber pilot, Rudy, flies his first solo mission against a suspected aqua-terrorist who tapped into their secure communications. Memo and his brother watch their father killed on television as the fighter attacks their farm.
Memo goes to work in the big city, and in short order meets a nice girl who sells her memories online. After Memo is robbed in a dark alley, she helps him get 'nodes' for connecting to the worldwide information grid, and he gets a job as a construction worker. In the future, Mexican laborers connect to the internet and operate construction robots all over the world in a sort of full-sensory virtualized stupor.
Memo's relationship with the girl falters and grows again. The figher pilot turns out to be buying her memories of Memo and finally tracks him down to apologize. In a dramatic scene on a bus, the fighter pilot agrees to help Memo avenge his father's death. It's at this point that I walked out, assuming the pilot and/or Memo hijack a military cyber jet to blow up the dam and provide free water.
Viva!
It's actually not a bad film. It's interesting, and the cultural difference for me made it more watchable than, say, an American version of the film might have been.
Endless Bummer
The past two days have been very difficult. Not totally unbearable, but wearisome. There are several reasons for this.
One is that we are short-staffed. There are simply not enough bodies to accomplish out mission, which in large part is managing enormous groups of people. We have, at our peak, four hundred people waiting to enter a theatre and two hundred waiting to buy tickets, as well as a handful of others who are coming and going to and from our theatre. Tom complicate matters, some people are more important than others (or at least have better access).
The other problem is that we have a wholly unprecedented number of people choosing to waitlist formovies than are more than two hours out. Normally the way the waitlist works is that two hours prior to a screening, we hand out up to two hundred numbers to people and tell them to come back and line up in order half an hour before the film starts. We are starting with groups of people in excess of two hundred, sometimes over four hundred, sometimes stretching single file over two hundred yards to the back lot of the school.
Furthermore, we have a semi-official policy - semi-official only bc it isn't published, and today I was told we are testing it - of allowing people who do not get into Film #1 to stay and become the front of the waitlist line for Film #2. This has frequently been the defacto policy and usually isn't a problem when you're talking about perhaps six people. However, in our case, we may have over a hundred people who opt to exercise this option, meaning that people who came early just to get into Film #2 are enraged that people who didn't come specifically for Film #2 are essentially being prioritized before them.
The more I think about it, in theory the process should work as long as people are just here to see films and don't care too much about which one they get into, but in practice the problem is that people do care about which films they see, and system only leads to an escalate perception of what constitutes a reasonable lead time to get in a wait list. After the experience of the past two days, it would not be unreasonable for someone to assume that they should get in line at 8 AM for a film that starts at 3:15 PM.
This in itself wouldn't be a huge issue, since it's really just event planning. Mostly I work with my fellow managers to try and assess where we can put people without causing new problems. However, while we get this figured out, we are contending with angry patrons, patrons who cut in line on each other or duck out the back of one line to enter another, and patrons who accuse one another of such behavior. I tell them to act like adults and put the onus on them, or else I feel like Pontius Pilate, patron saint of bureaucrats.
Even this behavior would be acceptable if it weren't for the mad barking of some patrons (and while the loudest are always men, they aren't always men). Yesterday I had two men in separate lines yelling at me that a third line had arrived after them and therefore had no right to go in first. My solution was to let in ten at a time from alternating lines. Then today, I had a group of tall athletic young men yelling at me and everyone else I work with that our policiy is unfair and we should have caved to the mob in order to decide how to handle our waitlist (we didn't, but there was still over an hour of bogus 'conversation' my boss had to put up with). Eventually got them to get back in line by moving the line and saying they'd love their place if they didn't move with it, and in the end they did get numbers and even tickets to see the film, 'Be Kind Rewind', a Michel Gondry film with Jack Black and Mos Def.
When quelling a revolution, it helps to put the assholes away first.
Normally it takes about a week for people to get this ornery. Normally, the first weekend of the festival is a breeze. Everyone is happy to be out here, enjoying the mixed atmosphere of film culture and resort town. This year, people are demanding and angry right of the bat.
I shouldn't paint too broadly here. Most people are perfectly reasonable, and many people have expressed they sympathies to me, and some have even apologized for bad behavior. All the same, the bad apples seem to have blossomed much sooner than usual.
The combination of problems means that I am multi-tasking more than usual and working outside quite a bit. My co-worker has it worse. She typically starts the day with only one staff member (she should have four) and works outside for eight hours.
All the same, it all ends well. We are working on the problems and the upper echelons stopped in today to see our policies in action. Also, at the end of the day, there are beers and mates and we all decompress and go see films before getting up to do it again the next day.
One is that we are short-staffed. There are simply not enough bodies to accomplish out mission, which in large part is managing enormous groups of people. We have, at our peak, four hundred people waiting to enter a theatre and two hundred waiting to buy tickets, as well as a handful of others who are coming and going to and from our theatre. Tom complicate matters, some people are more important than others (or at least have better access).
The other problem is that we have a wholly unprecedented number of people choosing to waitlist formovies than are more than two hours out. Normally the way the waitlist works is that two hours prior to a screening, we hand out up to two hundred numbers to people and tell them to come back and line up in order half an hour before the film starts. We are starting with groups of people in excess of two hundred, sometimes over four hundred, sometimes stretching single file over two hundred yards to the back lot of the school.
Furthermore, we have a semi-official policy - semi-official only bc it isn't published, and today I was told we are testing it - of allowing people who do not get into Film #1 to stay and become the front of the waitlist line for Film #2. This has frequently been the defacto policy and usually isn't a problem when you're talking about perhaps six people. However, in our case, we may have over a hundred people who opt to exercise this option, meaning that people who came early just to get into Film #2 are enraged that people who didn't come specifically for Film #2 are essentially being prioritized before them.
The more I think about it, in theory the process should work as long as people are just here to see films and don't care too much about which one they get into, but in practice the problem is that people do care about which films they see, and system only leads to an escalate perception of what constitutes a reasonable lead time to get in a wait list. After the experience of the past two days, it would not be unreasonable for someone to assume that they should get in line at 8 AM for a film that starts at 3:15 PM.
This in itself wouldn't be a huge issue, since it's really just event planning. Mostly I work with my fellow managers to try and assess where we can put people without causing new problems. However, while we get this figured out, we are contending with angry patrons, patrons who cut in line on each other or duck out the back of one line to enter another, and patrons who accuse one another of such behavior. I tell them to act like adults and put the onus on them, or else I feel like Pontius Pilate, patron saint of bureaucrats.
Even this behavior would be acceptable if it weren't for the mad barking of some patrons (and while the loudest are always men, they aren't always men). Yesterday I had two men in separate lines yelling at me that a third line had arrived after them and therefore had no right to go in first. My solution was to let in ten at a time from alternating lines. Then today, I had a group of tall athletic young men yelling at me and everyone else I work with that our policiy is unfair and we should have caved to the mob in order to decide how to handle our waitlist (we didn't, but there was still over an hour of bogus 'conversation' my boss had to put up with). Eventually got them to get back in line by moving the line and saying they'd love their place if they didn't move with it, and in the end they did get numbers and even tickets to see the film, 'Be Kind Rewind', a Michel Gondry film with Jack Black and Mos Def.
When quelling a revolution, it helps to put the assholes away first.
Normally it takes about a week for people to get this ornery. Normally, the first weekend of the festival is a breeze. Everyone is happy to be out here, enjoying the mixed atmosphere of film culture and resort town. This year, people are demanding and angry right of the bat.
I shouldn't paint too broadly here. Most people are perfectly reasonable, and many people have expressed they sympathies to me, and some have even apologized for bad behavior. All the same, the bad apples seem to have blossomed much sooner than usual.
The combination of problems means that I am multi-tasking more than usual and working outside quite a bit. My co-worker has it worse. She typically starts the day with only one staff member (she should have four) and works outside for eight hours.
All the same, it all ends well. We are working on the problems and the upper echelons stopped in today to see our policies in action. Also, at the end of the day, there are beers and mates and we all decompress and go see films before getting up to do it again the next day.
Day Zero
On Day Zero, we opened for business by 4 PM.
We worked long, long hours. I got in at noon and left just before midnight; some of my compatriots were in at 10 and left just before 10. The day work was mostly setup. We had propane heaters to erect and fill up, drape to cover the pipes, tables, chairs, and benches to deploy, and wait list numbers and tickets to obtain. We didn't have numbers until about half an hour before we were supposed to hand them out.
The theatre I work in is a working high school and an active construction site. School is in session by day, meaning we see students and teachers strolling the hallways, oblivious to the festival. The school is being expanded, part of a process underway last year, so there are trucks, tools, and construction equipment all over the place.
On top of that, the high school auditorium is also the city's primary performing arts center, a place that brings in acts like Duncan Sheik, Willie Nelson, Alvin Ailey, and many more. Somehow, we are supposed to shepherd the industry people and indie hipsters who visit from NY and LA through students, construction workers, and the local arts community to see the likes of Colin Farrell and U2 in 3D.
At this point in my Sundance career, very few things alarm or surprise me. I did have one very huffy doctor frantically trying to obtain tickets that had been promised him by a woman who was subsequently injured in a car accident. We were able to track her down by cel and get his situation worked out. We saw deer out the window around 10 PM, but they scampered off by the time i got my camera out. I heard nothing bad about Colin or his entourage.
One unique element of our theater is that we have a sizable contingent of local volunteers who work as our ticket takers and ushers, jobs that fall to Sundance volunteers in other venues. They are generally of retirement age, and all know each other. They are all good workers and in many ways easier to manage than some of the younger people I've had to deal with, but they are a tightly knit community with their own customs and insularity. Once they know who you are, you're in, but until then you get their official face, which is a little hard on new volunteers sometimes.
These volunteers are also responsible for another unique aspect of our theatre: home cooked meals. They work out a cooking schedule and bring in stews, chips, sandwich materials, and other goodies, and for a small donation those of us who work their can eat there. It's not open to anyone else, so as to help with meal planning. It's a great service because we are on the edge of town and at least a twenty minute walk from any food, and delivery is expensive and just as time consuming. We have a concession stand, but it isn't cheap either.
Altogether we have a theatre that seats over 1200 people, split between a large floor area and a balcony. We show the biggest premieres at the festival (whether for well or ill depends on your taste in movies). I oversee the traffic management of these people in and out of the theatre and conduct, through my peers, a platoon of over two dozen personnel, as well interacting with press, entourage, and senior management teams.
It's an exciting place to work, and an exciting job to have. I'm alsways quick to point out that for myself, it's not exciting in an 'OMG I just saw Colin Farrell' or 'Bono's doing the jigsaw puzzle in the hallway' kind of way. It's the rush of spinning multiple plates at once, making sure everything happens on time and that problems get resolved quickly and satisfactorily. In a way it's like a giant video game; it's that kind of rush.
We worked long, long hours. I got in at noon and left just before midnight; some of my compatriots were in at 10 and left just before 10. The day work was mostly setup. We had propane heaters to erect and fill up, drape to cover the pipes, tables, chairs, and benches to deploy, and wait list numbers and tickets to obtain. We didn't have numbers until about half an hour before we were supposed to hand them out.
The theatre I work in is a working high school and an active construction site. School is in session by day, meaning we see students and teachers strolling the hallways, oblivious to the festival. The school is being expanded, part of a process underway last year, so there are trucks, tools, and construction equipment all over the place.
On top of that, the high school auditorium is also the city's primary performing arts center, a place that brings in acts like Duncan Sheik, Willie Nelson, Alvin Ailey, and many more. Somehow, we are supposed to shepherd the industry people and indie hipsters who visit from NY and LA through students, construction workers, and the local arts community to see the likes of Colin Farrell and U2 in 3D.
At this point in my Sundance career, very few things alarm or surprise me. I did have one very huffy doctor frantically trying to obtain tickets that had been promised him by a woman who was subsequently injured in a car accident. We were able to track her down by cel and get his situation worked out. We saw deer out the window around 10 PM, but they scampered off by the time i got my camera out. I heard nothing bad about Colin or his entourage.
One unique element of our theater is that we have a sizable contingent of local volunteers who work as our ticket takers and ushers, jobs that fall to Sundance volunteers in other venues. They are generally of retirement age, and all know each other. They are all good workers and in many ways easier to manage than some of the younger people I've had to deal with, but they are a tightly knit community with their own customs and insularity. Once they know who you are, you're in, but until then you get their official face, which is a little hard on new volunteers sometimes.
These volunteers are also responsible for another unique aspect of our theatre: home cooked meals. They work out a cooking schedule and bring in stews, chips, sandwich materials, and other goodies, and for a small donation those of us who work their can eat there. It's not open to anyone else, so as to help with meal planning. It's a great service because we are on the edge of town and at least a twenty minute walk from any food, and delivery is expensive and just as time consuming. We have a concession stand, but it isn't cheap either.
Altogether we have a theatre that seats over 1200 people, split between a large floor area and a balcony. We show the biggest premieres at the festival (whether for well or ill depends on your taste in movies). I oversee the traffic management of these people in and out of the theatre and conduct, through my peers, a platoon of over two dozen personnel, as well interacting with press, entourage, and senior management teams.
It's an exciting place to work, and an exciting job to have. I'm alsways quick to point out that for myself, it's not exciting in an 'OMG I just saw Colin Farrell' or 'Bono's doing the jigsaw puzzle in the hallway' kind of way. It's the rush of spinning multiple plates at once, making sure everything happens on time and that problems get resolved quickly and satisfactorily. In a way it's like a giant video game; it's that kind of rush.
The First Official Party
The First Official Party
Wednesday, Day -1, we finished setting up our theatre, then retired to our house to get ready for one of the official parties. Since we're all managers, we get in an hour earlier, get some nice food (especially the roasted vegetables) and meet and greet the higher-ups in the festival.
By the way, my sources say nice things about Merry Gentlemen, Towelhead, and any of the international films. Merry Gentleman was edited so heavily by its backers that the director asked to have his name stricken and fought to have his own director's cut submitted tot Sundance. My source tells me he has never seen such different films, and they chose the director's cut. Towelhead is by Alan Ball, writer of American Beauty and Six Feet Under.
So we went to the party and had appetizers - pita bread, humous, potstickers, and roasted vegetables. We were also granted an open bar, meaning we did not have to give up our free drink tickets for drinks. This was good, since when I went to use one of my drink tickets, it turns out they had fallen off my wristband.
I left early with a friend. After the first couple of hours, it's less networking and more partying, and there will be plenty of time for that. Besides, we're an older demographic than many of the new volunteers, and we already have our niches carved out.
This morning (Thursday) we witnessed the aftermath. Several pre-approved guests were crashed on our couch, and one person had come in as late as 6:30 in the morning. You can tell who the experienced partygoers are, but even the most advanced practitioners slip up now and then.
Wednesday, Day -1, we finished setting up our theatre, then retired to our house to get ready for one of the official parties. Since we're all managers, we get in an hour earlier, get some nice food (especially the roasted vegetables) and meet and greet the higher-ups in the festival.
By the way, my sources say nice things about Merry Gentlemen, Towelhead, and any of the international films. Merry Gentleman was edited so heavily by its backers that the director asked to have his name stricken and fought to have his own director's cut submitted tot Sundance. My source tells me he has never seen such different films, and they chose the director's cut. Towelhead is by Alan Ball, writer of American Beauty and Six Feet Under.
So we went to the party and had appetizers - pita bread, humous, potstickers, and roasted vegetables. We were also granted an open bar, meaning we did not have to give up our free drink tickets for drinks. This was good, since when I went to use one of my drink tickets, it turns out they had fallen off my wristband.
I left early with a friend. After the first couple of hours, it's less networking and more partying, and there will be plenty of time for that. Besides, we're an older demographic than many of the new volunteers, and we already have our niches carved out.
This morning (Thursday) we witnessed the aftermath. Several pre-approved guests were crashed on our couch, and one person had come in as late as 6:30 in the morning. You can tell who the experienced partygoers are, but even the most advanced practitioners slip up now and then.
Roommates
My roommates this year are familiar faces. All but two of us work at the same theatre, and one of those is a friend of my manager at the theatre. They both came down early to do some skiing before the festival started.
Most of my Sundance friends are from Canada. I'm not sure why that is; they just seem to be the people I gravitated towards over the years. I got to know the group year by year; they are part of an extended circle of acquaintances who know each other from the Toronto festival. They are just smart, funny, and pleasant to work with.
There is one other American here, but he, like me, is a sort of honorary Canadian. An unofficial traditional has 'Canadian Night' at a local brew pub, and this year there ere at least twenty people all at once.
Sharing a house at Sundance is a bit like recovering dorm experiences I never had. When I was in college, I only lived in university housing for my first semester, and even that was a six-person A-frame building a bit removed from the regular dorms. At the time, that was to my liking, and later on, after living with my parents for about two years, I moved out into my own apartment. I've shared apartments off and on, but never really had the multiple people in one house situation.
With these people, it's a bit like a dorm situation except everyone's pretty tidy and polite. Maybe it's because we're all older - late twenties through early forties - and that much more mature, or maybe it's bc it's only two weeks and there's not enough time for any real drama to develop, but either way, it's pleasant. We all have our own lives and activities in our free time, but we work together and come home, share some beers and talk about the festival together.
we have, at our disposal, two gas fireplaces, two kitchens, two bathrooms for six people, and one hot tub for all. The hot tub unfortunately is on a porch that is snowed in. My door is right outside, so the flight path involves walking through my room (or a longer trip through someone else's), and then stepping onto the snow for a minute or two while you climb in. Once in, though, it's nice. The water keeps your body warm even as ice forms in your hair. It's small, too, and therefore cozy.
So it's nice. Honestly I'd been a little ambivalent about returning; this is not a vacation in a real sense; it's a working vacation, with stints standing in the snow, stomping through the mud, and bending a weary ear to laughable complaints, but once I was here, this cameraderie took over and made it seem like a decent vacation after all. I'm working my way through a nice play to stay, pleasant company, and a beautiful background, and that is nothing to complain about.
Most of my Sundance friends are from Canada. I'm not sure why that is; they just seem to be the people I gravitated towards over the years. I got to know the group year by year; they are part of an extended circle of acquaintances who know each other from the Toronto festival. They are just smart, funny, and pleasant to work with.
There is one other American here, but he, like me, is a sort of honorary Canadian. An unofficial traditional has 'Canadian Night' at a local brew pub, and this year there ere at least twenty people all at once.
Sharing a house at Sundance is a bit like recovering dorm experiences I never had. When I was in college, I only lived in university housing for my first semester, and even that was a six-person A-frame building a bit removed from the regular dorms. At the time, that was to my liking, and later on, after living with my parents for about two years, I moved out into my own apartment. I've shared apartments off and on, but never really had the multiple people in one house situation.
With these people, it's a bit like a dorm situation except everyone's pretty tidy and polite. Maybe it's because we're all older - late twenties through early forties - and that much more mature, or maybe it's bc it's only two weeks and there's not enough time for any real drama to develop, but either way, it's pleasant. We all have our own lives and activities in our free time, but we work together and come home, share some beers and talk about the festival together.
we have, at our disposal, two gas fireplaces, two kitchens, two bathrooms for six people, and one hot tub for all. The hot tub unfortunately is on a porch that is snowed in. My door is right outside, so the flight path involves walking through my room (or a longer trip through someone else's), and then stepping onto the snow for a minute or two while you climb in. Once in, though, it's nice. The water keeps your body warm even as ice forms in your hair. It's small, too, and therefore cozy.
So it's nice. Honestly I'd been a little ambivalent about returning; this is not a vacation in a real sense; it's a working vacation, with stints standing in the snow, stomping through the mud, and bending a weary ear to laughable complaints, but once I was here, this cameraderie took over and made it seem like a decent vacation after all. I'm working my way through a nice play to stay, pleasant company, and a beautiful background, and that is nothing to complain about.
Day 1
Day 1. If Thursday was Day 0, today, Friday the 19th, is Day 1.
So last night we premiered 'In Bruges', a film starring Colin Farrell, Brendan Gleason, and Ralph Fiennes. Colin, the lusty leprechaun himself, was there, though I didn't see him. The closest I came was talking to his Sundance entourage handler.
Today I tried to get into two films, and succeeded at one. I saw Shorts Program IV, which included: the story of a black woman coming out as a lesbian; a Romanian film that covered two interwoven groups of people at the beach one summer day; a short film about a high school wrestler who breaks his winning streak after losing a match; an Australian short that played at times like a soap opera, about a long-lost brother who returns to attend his brother's wedding, but leaves in the end after realizing how he doesn't really belong; an English short about a how a man and his son confront the hoodies in their neighborhood.
I thought I saw a common thread between the Romanian and English short. Both had allusions to European racism, which is different in tone than American racism and anti-immigration bias. In the Romanian short, a middle class Romanian couple observes a Turkish or Central Asian couple making out prominently on the beach and they refer to 'those people' and how their lack of class will bring the nation down.
The English film is more direct. The son has already been beaten up by the hoodies, and after they follow the father home from the corner store, the father insists up to the last minute that fighting back will only make things worse, even as he gradually edges towards confrontation, until the son finally comes out with a cricket bat and starts wailing away on the head bully. One can experience the internal struggle the UK is experiencing regarding immigration, the muslim population, and the Middle East all at once.
I tried to go see 'Up the Yangtze', a Chinese film about the disappearing ecology of the Yangzte river as the Three Gorges Dam nears completion. Supposedly beautiful and shot in Sony HD, this film has already been picked up and should make it out sometime in the next year. I was number 47 in the wait list, and they barely broached a dozen from our line.
So last night we premiered 'In Bruges', a film starring Colin Farrell, Brendan Gleason, and Ralph Fiennes. Colin, the lusty leprechaun himself, was there, though I didn't see him. The closest I came was talking to his Sundance entourage handler.
Today I tried to get into two films, and succeeded at one. I saw Shorts Program IV, which included: the story of a black woman coming out as a lesbian; a Romanian film that covered two interwoven groups of people at the beach one summer day; a short film about a high school wrestler who breaks his winning streak after losing a match; an Australian short that played at times like a soap opera, about a long-lost brother who returns to attend his brother's wedding, but leaves in the end after realizing how he doesn't really belong; an English short about a how a man and his son confront the hoodies in their neighborhood.
I thought I saw a common thread between the Romanian and English short. Both had allusions to European racism, which is different in tone than American racism and anti-immigration bias. In the Romanian short, a middle class Romanian couple observes a Turkish or Central Asian couple making out prominently on the beach and they refer to 'those people' and how their lack of class will bring the nation down.
The English film is more direct. The son has already been beaten up by the hoodies, and after they follow the father home from the corner store, the father insists up to the last minute that fighting back will only make things worse, even as he gradually edges towards confrontation, until the son finally comes out with a cricket bat and starts wailing away on the head bully. One can experience the internal struggle the UK is experiencing regarding immigration, the muslim population, and the Middle East all at once.
I tried to go see 'Up the Yangtze', a Chinese film about the disappearing ecology of the Yangzte river as the Three Gorges Dam nears completion. Supposedly beautiful and shot in Sony HD, this film has already been picked up and should make it out sometime in the next year. I was number 47 in the wait list, and they barely broached a dozen from our line.
Thursday, January 17, 2008
The Snow
A picture taken on Tuesday. The snowfall was constant and heavy. Lots of powder for the skiers.
World's Greatest Band - Now in 3D !
World's Greatest Band Now in 3D
We've all been pretty excited lately. We knew that U2 would be in town to promote their new film. In fact last night, one of my housemates stated her new goal to be getting the band to come sing 'Happy Birthday' to her on her birthday next Monday. Maybe Bono and just the Edge. It'd be hard to get the full drum kit set up over by the hot tub.
Today was our first full day in our theatre. Our theatre is part of a high school, which means there are certain rules that we must follow that other theatres don't have to worry about. The biggest one is no smoking on school property. A lot of industry people like to relax with a cigarette and we have to kick them to the curb, almost literally, sending them to the bus stop on the street to smoke. This involves traversing an icy parking lot next to a semi-functional constructions site, and no one likes to do it, but it's the law.
When we arrived this morning, we couldn't get into the auditorium. It was a 'closed session' as they checked the sound and picture on a film we're showing on Saturday. It's a U2 concert film, shot in 3D.
While we were waiting for them to clear up, I was sent to watch sentry over side entrances in the hallway. Students from a dance class came out into the hallway, with their boomboxes, finding spots to practice their routines. At one point, I was able to hear U2, Didi, and the soundtrack to Pirates of the Caribbean all at once. It was, at times, strangely symphonic.
I've never been a huge U2 fan. I don't dislike them, but neither do I like them very strongly. They're part of the cultural landscape, like the Simpsons or (perhaps more aptly) the Police. They're a good act with international appeal and a frontman with strong, idealistic political convictions.
I tend to roll my eyes at proclamations like 'World's Greatest Band', and I think taking a one-word moniker as a stage name is ballsy, though impressive if you can pull it off. I also tend to laugh at anything that's 'in 3D', a popular gimmick that's been around for decades, a gimmick usually reserved to gussy up B movies.
Additionally, I've always seen concerts as somewhat fascist in a sense. I see a similar dynam
So, suffice it to say, when I heard that one of our big films was going to be the World's Greatest Band in 3D, I was skeptical to say the least
When I was relieved, I got to go in and watched the second half. It's a concert film from a show they played in Argentina, and I have to say it's pretty awesome. They're rockin', there's a huge crowd reaching out, and Bon walks out onto a platform island to sing to everyone. They had me at 'Where the Streets Have No Name.'
I had heard the film was like attending the actual concert, and that's true, if you were a disembodied head that could float around the concert, and your vision was limited to a box in front of you. The crowd and wide angle stage shots show off the effects most effectively: it's as if you can see into the theatre screen. Closeups are tricky but very effective. It looked as though the Edge's guitar was about to hit my head, and I could read the logo above the frets. Bono materialized over the seats in front of me, hovering from the waist up. Closeups of the crowd had hands reaching out to me and wide open mouths begging me to reach over and brush their teeth.
So . . .I'm still skeptical, but pleasantly surprised. It is a visually interesting film and if you're willing to entertain a U2 concert, it's not a bad way to see one. The only caveat is that the special glasses aren't cheap, and our big trick will be getting people to return them. They're worth $50 apiece, and since we seat 1200 people or more at a time, that's a $60,000 float per show. These are not your mother's paper glasses; they look kind of cool.
There was more technical drooling. The crew that shot and posted the film were there, explaining to a guest class of local high school students how they made it. They brought in the same kinds of speakers that U2 uses on tour to the theatre, and promised that the film would not look or sound as good anywhere else as at our theatre.
When it comes out, it's worth seeing.
Festivities
The First Official Party
Wednesday, Day -1, we finished setting up our theatre, then retired to our house to get ready for one of the official parties. Since we're all managers, we get in an hour earlier, get some nice food (especially the roasted vegetables) and meet and greet the higher-ups in the festival.
By the way, my sources say nice things about Merry Gentlemen, Towelhead, and any of the international films. Merry Gentleman was edited so heavily by its backers that the director asked to have his name stricken and fought to have his own director's cut submitted tot Sundance. My source tells me he has never seen such different films, and they chose the director's cut. Towelhead is by Alan Ball, writer of American Beauty and Six Feet Under.
So we went to the party and had appetizers - pita bread, hummus, potstickers, and roasted vegetables। We were also granted an open bar, meaning we did not have to give up our free drink tickets for drinks. This was good, since when I went to use one of my drink tickets, it turns out they had fallen off my wristband.
I left early with a friend. After the first couple of hours, it's less networking and more partying, and there will be plenty of time for that. Besides, we're an older demographic than many of the new volunteers, and we already have our niches carved out.
This morning (Thursday) we witnessed the aftermath. Several pre-approved guests were crashed on our couch, and one person had come in as late as 6:30 in the morning. You can tell who the experienced partygoers are, but even the most advanced practitioners slip up now and then.
Wednesday, Day -1, we finished setting up our theatre, then retired to our house to get ready for one of the official parties. Since we're all managers, we get in an hour earlier, get some nice food (especially the roasted vegetables) and meet and greet the higher-ups in the festival.
By the way, my sources say nice things about Merry Gentlemen, Towelhead, and any of the international films. Merry Gentleman was edited so heavily by its backers that the director asked to have his name stricken and fought to have his own director's cut submitted tot Sundance. My source tells me he has never seen such different films, and they chose the director's cut. Towelhead is by Alan Ball, writer of American Beauty and Six Feet Under.
So we went to the party and had appetizers - pita bread, hummus, potstickers, and roasted vegetables। We were also granted an open bar, meaning we did not have to give up our free drink tickets for drinks. This was good, since when I went to use one of my drink tickets, it turns out they had fallen off my wristband.
I left early with a friend. After the first couple of hours, it's less networking and more partying, and there will be plenty of time for that. Besides, we're an older demographic than many of the new volunteers, and we already have our niches carved out.
This morning (Thursday) we witnessed the aftermath. Several pre-approved guests were crashed on our couch, and one person had come in as late as 6:30 in the morning. You can tell who the experienced partygoers are, but even the most advanced practitioners slip up now and then.
Wednesday, January 16, 2008
Nomenclature
One caveat I ought to mention is that I get absolutely atrocious internet access where I' staying. My broadband card isn't working well, and our neighboring wireless points, at least those that are open, are very slow when they work at all.
So today would technically be my second day here, though it's my first chance to post. We're really in a countdown phase now. The festival is ten days proper, running from Friday the 18th through Sunday the 27th, though the first movie premieres at my theatre on Thursday the 17th. So let's call the 17th Day Zero, meaning today was Day -2.
Today there was a lot of snow in the morning. At first it was just the wind blowing fresh powder off the roofs of houses, but by midmorning it was real snow with a strong wind, blowing horizontally and depositing fresh flakes. It's great for skiers and pretty to look at, but a bitch to walk home through.
So far, most of what we've done is training. This means Powerpoint presentations and people standing in front of us introducing each other, introducing themselves, and explaining the powerpoint presentations. It sounds boring but while there are stretches of material that seem redundant or irrelevant to my position, it's good to know the whole piece, and fascinating to see how an organization manages over 1200 people coming from all parts of the US, Canada, and other countries, getting them to work together to provide a smooth and consistent experience not only to patrons, but to filmmakers and business people who are here to find the next big film. In our training, I feel like nothing so much as some military officer getting briefed on the upcoming campaign, the location of our depots and how we will engage the opposition force, which, depending on circumstances, could be anyone, from an angry patron to a shrill publicist.
These are extreme examples. Frankly, my experiences at the festival have made me realize that most people are reasonable and amenable to the solutions we can provide. It's managing the exception that makes the festival interesting, if difficult. Most of what we talk about are systems, positions, roles and responsibilities. There are several acronyms (MFC, MBO, TOPS, TACAMO) and a handful of departments with very specific roles. Come to think of it, in many ways this is like my regular work job. There are processes, systems, lines connecting them, chains of communication, and certain people who have to be looped in on certain kinds of communications.
One nice change was that they scheduled time for the managers of each venue to discuss how to handle the changes at their venue. In our case, that meant that about six of us talked about how some of the new ticket and pass changes affect us, and to pore over a map and figure out where we're going to put people. For example, we are now facilitating entourage entrances separately from talent. Where will we put them? Or, where will we put people who have passes instead of tickets? There's construction at our site, and every year we have to rework our plan.
However, that is what I enjoy about what I do out here, and come to think of it, what I enjoy about my regular work. We acknowledge that every moment in the future is unknown, but that doesn't mean we can't plan. We come together to solve complex problems that do not present clear solutions. It's interesting, it's engaging, and I have a good group of people to engage this work with.
So today would technically be my second day here, though it's my first chance to post. We're really in a countdown phase now. The festival is ten days proper, running from Friday the 18th through Sunday the 27th, though the first movie premieres at my theatre on Thursday the 17th. So let's call the 17th Day Zero, meaning today was Day -2.
Today there was a lot of snow in the morning. At first it was just the wind blowing fresh powder off the roofs of houses, but by midmorning it was real snow with a strong wind, blowing horizontally and depositing fresh flakes. It's great for skiers and pretty to look at, but a bitch to walk home through.
So far, most of what we've done is training. This means Powerpoint presentations and people standing in front of us introducing each other, introducing themselves, and explaining the powerpoint presentations. It sounds boring but while there are stretches of material that seem redundant or irrelevant to my position, it's good to know the whole piece, and fascinating to see how an organization manages over 1200 people coming from all parts of the US, Canada, and other countries, getting them to work together to provide a smooth and consistent experience not only to patrons, but to filmmakers and business people who are here to find the next big film. In our training, I feel like nothing so much as some military officer getting briefed on the upcoming campaign, the location of our depots and how we will engage the opposition force, which, depending on circumstances, could be anyone, from an angry patron to a shrill publicist.
These are extreme examples. Frankly, my experiences at the festival have made me realize that most people are reasonable and amenable to the solutions we can provide. It's managing the exception that makes the festival interesting, if difficult. Most of what we talk about are systems, positions, roles and responsibilities. There are several acronyms (MFC, MBO, TOPS, TACAMO) and a handful of departments with very specific roles. Come to think of it, in many ways this is like my regular work job. There are processes, systems, lines connecting them, chains of communication, and certain people who have to be looped in on certain kinds of communications.
One nice change was that they scheduled time for the managers of each venue to discuss how to handle the changes at their venue. In our case, that meant that about six of us talked about how some of the new ticket and pass changes affect us, and to pore over a map and figure out where we're going to put people. For example, we are now facilitating entourage entrances separately from talent. Where will we put them? Or, where will we put people who have passes instead of tickets? There's construction at our site, and every year we have to rework our plan.
However, that is what I enjoy about what I do out here, and come to think of it, what I enjoy about my regular work. We acknowledge that every moment in the future is unknown, but that doesn't mean we can't plan. We come together to solve complex problems that do not present clear solutions. It's interesting, it's engaging, and I have a good group of people to engage this work with.
Arrival
I had a smooth flight from JFK, non-stop via Delta. It's the first time I've flown Delta in many years. They turned out to be the best overall fare, even when I took layover flights into account. They're nice - relatively roomy, decent service, and a touchscreen entertainment system built in. They charge for the in flight movies, which include options for HBO TV shows and movies. The only free services that were worthwhile were the music stream, which had a surprisingly good selection, and a system for tracking your flight's progress, which included accurate indications of speed, temperature, and time remaining.
It was an early flight though. Altogether, I went to bed at 11, woke up at 2:30, got in a van at 3:30, got to the airport by 4:30, and got on the plane by 6:30. Five hours later, it was only 9 AM in ark City, but my body thought it was noon. Falling asleep was no problem, and apparently I was out cold bc the hot tub party at my house did not wake me up. The hot tub is two feet away from the outside door to my room.
I was surprised at the level of cameraderie I felt when I returned. At this point, I have known several people here for more than a couple of years, and while we may keep in touch in the off season, many of them I only know during these two weeks in the snow. We are all somewhat experienced and can talk about films, the festival, and life in general. It's a good group of people, and I was pleasantly surprised t find out that this year I am rooming with several of my favorites. It only makes sense, since many of us are working with each other.
Our house is amazing. It's like two houses stacked on top of each other. As you enter the main entrance, there's a short flight of stairs up and a short flight down. On each floor, the living room and kitchen are to the right. A hallway on the left leads to two bedrooms, with a garage in the lower floor and an extra bedroom in the upper floor. In short order, we made our grocery runs and were all set for our training.
Everyone grumbled about check-in. Usually we don't fly in until Tuesday, and the registration hours are wide open. I arrived by 11 and had to wait three hours before they were taking people. Then, even after obtaining my housing information, I had to wait until four to get a key, a new precaution being taken this year to prevent people from checking in early. The festival rents property to house volunteers, and if people check in too early they get billed an extra day. It makes good business sense.
What was funny about that though was the exchange I went through as I tried to get my house key.
"Where can I pick up my key?"
"Downstairs, but it's not set up yet."
"OK, when it is set up, where will it be?"
"I don't know. You can ask downstairs."
So down I went. I asked around.
"Where will keys be given out?"
"Upstairs."
"I was just up there. They said they're be handed out down here."
"Well . . ."
I went back upstairs. By now, we were not even ten minutes away from this opening.
"Yeah I went downstairs and they said to come back up here."
"No, it will be downstairs."
"Yes but where?"
"Well it's not set up yet."
Eventually, a box was run out to the information booth and keys were handed out. I was off with my roomies to the house.
What was really funny was that even as we seasoned volunteers were standing in line, several were commenting on how things could be run better. Spitting the line differently, staging the time better, separating new people from alumni - I don't know what it means, but it means something when the volunteers are discussing how to improve operations before the festival even gets started.
It was an early flight though. Altogether, I went to bed at 11, woke up at 2:30, got in a van at 3:30, got to the airport by 4:30, and got on the plane by 6:30. Five hours later, it was only 9 AM in ark City, but my body thought it was noon. Falling asleep was no problem, and apparently I was out cold bc the hot tub party at my house did not wake me up. The hot tub is two feet away from the outside door to my room.
I was surprised at the level of cameraderie I felt when I returned. At this point, I have known several people here for more than a couple of years, and while we may keep in touch in the off season, many of them I only know during these two weeks in the snow. We are all somewhat experienced and can talk about films, the festival, and life in general. It's a good group of people, and I was pleasantly surprised t find out that this year I am rooming with several of my favorites. It only makes sense, since many of us are working with each other.
Our house is amazing. It's like two houses stacked on top of each other. As you enter the main entrance, there's a short flight of stairs up and a short flight down. On each floor, the living room and kitchen are to the right. A hallway on the left leads to two bedrooms, with a garage in the lower floor and an extra bedroom in the upper floor. In short order, we made our grocery runs and were all set for our training.
Everyone grumbled about check-in. Usually we don't fly in until Tuesday, and the registration hours are wide open. I arrived by 11 and had to wait three hours before they were taking people. Then, even after obtaining my housing information, I had to wait until four to get a key, a new precaution being taken this year to prevent people from checking in early. The festival rents property to house volunteers, and if people check in too early they get billed an extra day. It makes good business sense.
What was funny about that though was the exchange I went through as I tried to get my house key.
"Where can I pick up my key?"
"Downstairs, but it's not set up yet."
"OK, when it is set up, where will it be?"
"I don't know. You can ask downstairs."
So down I went. I asked around.
"Where will keys be given out?"
"Upstairs."
"I was just up there. They said they're be handed out down here."
"Well . . ."
I went back upstairs. By now, we were not even ten minutes away from this opening.
"Yeah I went downstairs and they said to come back up here."
"No, it will be downstairs."
"Yes but where?"
"Well it's not set up yet."
Eventually, a box was run out to the information booth and keys were handed out. I was off with my roomies to the house.
What was really funny was that even as we seasoned volunteers were standing in line, several were commenting on how things could be run better. Spitting the line differently, staging the time better, separating new people from alumni - I don't know what it means, but it means something when the volunteers are discussing how to improve operations before the festival even gets started.
Saturday, January 12, 2008
Initializing
This is the first post for my Sundance 2008 weblog.
Where to start? I do this for my friends, so accustomed by now to hearing my tales of intrigue and terror from behind the scenes. Now that I'm at a new job, it's hard to convey the excitement as I could in hallway conversations. Hence, the blog.
A new concern which ought to be addressed - of course the festival is sensitive about blogging. So I won't bitch here, and I'll not refer to other volunteers by name, and celebrity sightings will be onoccuous. Like, last year, I saw John Cusack order hot chocolate. O-M-G, how cool was that? That sort of thing.
I'm using blogspot this year, wheras previously I had used iBlog to try integrating better with iLife and My .mac account. iBlog is. . .finicky. My Google account is not. Hence, blogspot.
It's Saturday night before I leave. I'm mostly packed. I fly out Monday and return two weeks later.
Until I have some festival films to recommend, tide yourself over with these late-year gems:
There Will Be Blood
No Country For Old Men
Juno
The Savages
The last two were at the 2007 festival.
See you from the snow!
Where to start? I do this for my friends, so accustomed by now to hearing my tales of intrigue and terror from behind the scenes. Now that I'm at a new job, it's hard to convey the excitement as I could in hallway conversations. Hence, the blog.
A new concern which ought to be addressed - of course the festival is sensitive about blogging. So I won't bitch here, and I'll not refer to other volunteers by name, and celebrity sightings will be onoccuous. Like, last year, I saw John Cusack order hot chocolate. O-M-G, how cool was that? That sort of thing.
I'm using blogspot this year, wheras previously I had used iBlog to try integrating better with iLife and My .mac account. iBlog is. . .finicky. My Google account is not. Hence, blogspot.
It's Saturday night before I leave. I'm mostly packed. I fly out Monday and return two weeks later.
Until I have some festival films to recommend, tide yourself over with these late-year gems:
There Will Be Blood
No Country For Old Men
Juno
The Savages
The last two were at the 2007 festival.
See you from the snow!
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