Friday, August 04, 2006
Whahappen?
I made a promise early on, that I wouldn't use this blog forum to complain. But my disappointment in this years film fest is so profound I don't know who else to turn to. So, please allow me this one time.
Almost everything I do is my way. From the way I play the guitar to the way I swim. I know I don’t take direction well. I’d rather fuck it all up on my own than let anyone be smarter than me. I think about these things a lot. And I often find myself saying if I'd only followed the rules or read the directions I wouldn't be in this spot as I rub my broken butt or pick up the pieces of some artistic disaster. I guess I have to build my own ballpark if I'm going to be batting from left field.
This is what I thought I had done with the Traverse City Film Fest.
The Traverse City Film Festival:
Three guys sat around and thought about a film festival for six years. One day Joe and I were invited to lunch with them and 4 months later we showed some movies. I’m not saying I did it all, not by a long shot. But, I was there when the fuse was finally lit. I can say, with confidence that if I weren’t there, it wouldn’t have been the same. What we had was a wild, fun festival teetering on the edge of disaster. Movies showed, people made mistakes, and everyone clapped.
Joe and I had work to do of our own and we couldn’t really get involved in this thing. But it started rolling and before I could let go we were on our way. Picture that Navy guy who didn’t let go if the blimp rope. Hours later, just before he let go from exhaustion, his last thought probably wasn’t about his love of blimps. It was probably something like, “How the fuck did I get in this position?”
Why? I couldn’t figure this out for a long time. It wasn’t that I liked movies, particularly. Or that I felt like my little town needed culturing. It wasn’t that I wanted to live in the shadow of a great man, or that I wanted him to live in mine. I guess I just naturally go where the noise is coming from.
This year one of the five laid claim to the fest as all his own. Let’s see if you can guess which one? I’ll wait. I’ll give you a hint, he’s also the largest one. The rest of us were demoted to being his employees. We each reacted in different ways. My specialty was to take him on and wrestle my little portion out of his hands. But, I was out gunned and my plan of attack wasn’t really very logical. Let’s just say I came on like Sheriff Bullock without a gun.
If I might continue with the western town analogy, we just got our first school. From now on, the reckless fun that we have enjoyed in the past is going to have to be a little tamer, and sensitive to our sponsors and all the other people who have volunteered. The last thing you want to do when something is doing well is make waves.
I still feel that if you can shake it and it doesn’t fall in, it’s solid. I have confidence in the Festival and of the community’s ability to take the shaking but this new batch of volunteers doesn’t.
So what’s the solution? Fight or flight? Do I keep pushing or go home and pout into a bucket of ice cream? Move west and find another lawless boomtown?
Do I learn from this? Do what you are told and everything will work out well. Then I sit in front of every book that I’ve read and every movie that I’ve seen and all of those TV shows from the 70’s that said, “Be yourself and you’ll be happy.” Maybe their right! Most authors are happy. What ever happened to Hemmingway anyway?
But the big questions are:
Do I sound pissed? I should. I am!
What am I going to do about it?
What do I do next year? …
My overall dissapointment is profound.
Almost everything I do is my way. From the way I play the guitar to the way I swim. I know I don’t take direction well. I’d rather fuck it all up on my own than let anyone be smarter than me. I think about these things a lot. And I often find myself saying if I'd only followed the rules or read the directions I wouldn't be in this spot as I rub my broken butt or pick up the pieces of some artistic disaster. I guess I have to build my own ballpark if I'm going to be batting from left field.
This is what I thought I had done with the Traverse City Film Fest.
The Traverse City Film Festival:
Three guys sat around and thought about a film festival for six years. One day Joe and I were invited to lunch with them and 4 months later we showed some movies. I’m not saying I did it all, not by a long shot. But, I was there when the fuse was finally lit. I can say, with confidence that if I weren’t there, it wouldn’t have been the same. What we had was a wild, fun festival teetering on the edge of disaster. Movies showed, people made mistakes, and everyone clapped.
Joe and I had work to do of our own and we couldn’t really get involved in this thing. But it started rolling and before I could let go we were on our way. Picture that Navy guy who didn’t let go if the blimp rope. Hours later, just before he let go from exhaustion, his last thought probably wasn’t about his love of blimps. It was probably something like, “How the fuck did I get in this position?”
Why? I couldn’t figure this out for a long time. It wasn’t that I liked movies, particularly. Or that I felt like my little town needed culturing. It wasn’t that I wanted to live in the shadow of a great man, or that I wanted him to live in mine. I guess I just naturally go where the noise is coming from.
This year one of the five laid claim to the fest as all his own. Let’s see if you can guess which one? I’ll wait. I’ll give you a hint, he’s also the largest one. The rest of us were demoted to being his employees. We each reacted in different ways. My specialty was to take him on and wrestle my little portion out of his hands. But, I was out gunned and my plan of attack wasn’t really very logical. Let’s just say I came on like Sheriff Bullock without a gun.
If I might continue with the western town analogy, we just got our first school. From now on, the reckless fun that we have enjoyed in the past is going to have to be a little tamer, and sensitive to our sponsors and all the other people who have volunteered. The last thing you want to do when something is doing well is make waves.
I still feel that if you can shake it and it doesn’t fall in, it’s solid. I have confidence in the Festival and of the community’s ability to take the shaking but this new batch of volunteers doesn’t.
So what’s the solution? Fight or flight? Do I keep pushing or go home and pout into a bucket of ice cream? Move west and find another lawless boomtown?
Do I learn from this? Do what you are told and everything will work out well. Then I sit in front of every book that I’ve read and every movie that I’ve seen and all of those TV shows from the 70’s that said, “Be yourself and you’ll be happy.” Maybe their right! Most authors are happy. What ever happened to Hemmingway anyway?
But the big questions are:
Do I sound pissed? I should. I am!
What am I going to do about it?
What do I do next year? …
My overall dissapointment is profound.
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