Why We Fight (Eugene Jarecki): My first screening of the day, American Documentary Grand Jury Prize winner, and my last film of the festival. Eugene Jarecki has done an outstanding job and, even in a field crowded by strong competition, is well deserving of the award. It is not often that documentaries manage to do such a good job of being as balanced and impartial as this, whilst remaining so damming. Why We Fight is a call to action for a nation that desperately needs to regain control of its Democratic institutions before the vast and powerful military-industrial-complex renders it nothing more than a militaristic dictatorship. The left wing, socialist, pessimist in me hopes that this award will help get the message out, but is convinced that Republicans will not be able to see past the anti-war message, and choose to write it off as just more “screaming liberal” propaganda.
Shortly after this Eccles screening, my shuttle whisked me off to the airport, where I found myself bumped off my flight. I was half expecting this – lets face it, pretty much everyone at Sundance left today, and United didn’t add any more flights. So someone was going to get bumped. It also seems quite fitting after the futility of waiting in line this week, that my trip should end this way.
An excellent evening of screenings proves that there are no more compelling or stanger stories than those in the real world.
Me and You and Everyone We Know (Miranda July) should make good box-office on the Arthouse Film Circuit. If my understanding of the credits is correct, this is a HD video production, which looked beautiful. It also delivered with very compelling quirky characters, whose awkward lives intertwine to produce humor, and genuine compassion. There are no real evil-doers here, just people – that initially seem peculiar, but on closer examination could be our neighbors and friends – thrown numerous curve-balls by an authentic contemporary life. Wonderful character work acted out by an ostensibly young cast.
The short comedy Mary (Aaron Ruell) opened this screening. Though technically and visually stunning, the build-up and visual gags outshone the punch line. Again, a stellar young cast. By contrast, New York Doll (Greg Whiteley), out weirds any character that could be invented with its microscopic chronicling of Arthur “Killer” Kane’s reunion with the remaining members of the legendary New York band “The New York Dolls”. It manages the heady feet of juggling genuine comedic pathos, which I think only “Spinal Tap” or “A Mighty Wind” have ever rivaled, and does it without getting too sappy. I had a vague interest in the band, but this doc is entertaining and thoughtful enough for everyone.
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2005 SUNDANCE FILM FESTIVAL ANNOUNCES AWARDS FOR AMERICAN AND WORLD CINEMA DOCUMENTARY AND DRAMATIC FILMS.
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Getting tickets to the awards ceremony, and therefore the fest’s biggest party, is virtually impossible for the average Joe. I put my name on “the list” which is now a reported six pages.
To quote a fellow press-pass holder, “The Condé Nast publications may be okay, but scrappers like us don’t stand a chance.”
As usual, I’d had high hopes, but low expectations, and rather than tuck my head under my wing and take to bitching about it, I chose to be excited that I get a third chance to see Wolf Creek (Greg Mclean) and a second for Brick (Rian Johnson), as the latest TBAs. I also got a ticket to see the winner of the Dramatic competition, though the festival staff is mum about who this will be.
You can tell that many operations of the festival are winding up; The number of press attending screenings is diminishing, the materials at the venues are getting ever thinner on the ground, and more volunteers and staff are attending films themselves.
Something that I’ve enjoyed, is having a chance to read through so many industry magazines, for free.
This is because every industry publication in the country makes complementary copies available to festival-goers, at every venue. As if that isn’t enough, several put together special festival & daily editions.
It goes without saying that Release Print is one of the few really solid independent publications to be found anywhere. It also flew off the table’s like it was going out of fashion.
The only other regular publication that I got a lot of value out of is The Film Addict, which featured many fun articles, and a refreshingly independent take on all the films at this year’s Sundance.
The “dailies” that get published are a mixed pack. The two that were most often worth more than a cursory glance were Sundance’s Daily Insider, and indieWire.
I just got out of my favorite film to date: Murderball by Directors Henry-Alex Rubin Dana Adam Shapiro
It’s a documentary that reminded me very much of 2004’s “Miracle”, only its very real, and very much better. It explores the of several American Paraplegic Rugby (aka Murderball) players. All of whom are paraplegics, with varying degrees of mobility, who doggedly sweat and bleed their way to the top of the field, representing the USA (and in one case coaching Canada) in the Para Olympics.
I am probably the last person that would enjoy a sport of any kind. Even so, I was completely sucked in to this beautifully crafted, triumphant, life affirming, tail of commitment, drive, determination, and ingenuity. I laughed, I cried, and I think I’d be a fan of the sport if it were more accessible to me. Who know, maybe this gem could make the world take more interest in the world of para-sports, it should, at the very least, serve as major inspiration to the less able-bodied.
The Sundance website lists a plethora of establishments offering services through the witching-hour. The reality is that most are pretty inaccessible to the lone, carless, person that’s a mile or so our of the town’s center.
So here is what I found in that situation:
Husk Director, Brett Simmons & his star, Crow, on shuttle In Line for Ballet Russes more photos>>
I’m feeling a little dejected right now, but we’ll get back to that soon enough.
Today started out like a winter-wonder-land. The snow had not stopped since about 10pm on Wednesday, cloaking the city in a perfect blanket of fresh powdery snow. Tiny black dots glided down the distant ski-slopes, and the shuttle was abuzz with tails of the “killer powder”.
The shows here are now really filling up. So much so, that I didn’t manage to get in until mid-afternoon, and then it was only because the line for “The Joy of Life” picked up where the one for “Ballets Russes” left off.
People are now reporting that they need to be in line almost two hours before a show to ensure they get in.
For me, in most cases, I got very close. In Ballets Russes’ case I was just behind the last guy to get a ticket.
My strategy now is to keep a hit-list of films that I want to see, and keep adding to it. The logic being, that all these films come highly recommended, and I need to have a Plan B at every venue I go to, because there’s usually not enough time to get to another film at a different venue.
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