First off, I’m going to have to apologize for the lack of pictures, hyperlinks and other accoutrement (harrumph, harrumph), as we have to suffer through a measly dial-up connection (yeah I had never heard of it either!!) here in picturesque Park City, UT. Also, I am feeling a little stale right now, so excuse while I fix myself a drink. This writing gig don’t come easy, you know…

(Drink #1)
We all attended the opening night film, Chicago 10, which was fantastic. I’m probably biased, as a terribly homesick Chicagoan. I left the theater with the feeling that such an impressive endeavor and opening night film by Brett Morgen could only mean great films were to come for the rest of the fest. The film covers the trial of several young men involved in the riots of the 1968 Democratic Convention in Chicago. It combines an impressive mix of archival footage, rotoscope animation, re-enactments and voice overs from Jeffrey Wright, Nick Nolte, Roy Schneider, and Hank Azaria. (Drink #2) In the Q&A afterwords, Morgen spoke of his hope that, by watching the film, one would feel as though they had experienced Chicago, and I truly believe he achieved this.

Yesterday, after attending the LDS Film Fest in Orem, UT with Scott for a panel, I realized I had  mistakenly booked tickets to two films at the same time, so I skipped a documentary on Darfur, called The Devil Came on Horseback with Scott for the presumably more palatable Mitchell Lichtenstein film, Teeth, with DMG. (Drink #3) To be honest, my expectations weren’t very high for this, and while I walked out with my expectations greatly exceeded, I’m having trouble figuring out just who I would recommend this film to.

The second film yesterday was a midnight showing of m dot strange’s We Are the Strange, a multi-media feature made entirely by strange himself in his bedroom on his computer. I should have known that it was going to be a rough night when a large woman who smelled strongly of barfy farts sat down next to me. As I sat gagging on whatever odor wafted from this woman into my winter weary nostrils, two plebeians sat down behind me and proceeded to carry on the most inane conversation. I realize that this was a midnight movie, which tend to be a little more lenient, and I am also aware that I can be a notoriously picky movie-goer, but (Drink #4) my passive aggressive white girl over the shoulder glares only made the situation worse, because then they started talking about me. I spent the duration of the short film and the first 30 minutes of the feature concentrating not on the mindfuck of a film, but on how I would be able to dump a 64 oz Diet Coke on her head without getting my squirrelly ass kicked.

Once I was able to finally block the buttheads behind me out of my mind, my attention turned to the vapid Abercrombie couple in front of me.  They spent the whole time  writing secret notes on each others backs, one letter at a time, to the tune of: "U horny?" "No" "Now?" "No" "NOW?!?!" "Yeah, a little." "Let’s go." "Ok." "Head?" "No" "Pls?!?!" "Ok"… When they finally left, after a 5 minute pow wow with everyone else in their row, I was beyond even being able to catch up on the film. Either that or I was too sober or too stupid to get it. What I can say, however, is that the film was visually stunning and defies any explanation, and if you have a lot of drugs or don’t need a thread of a narrative it should be worth it to track it down.

Today (Drink #5) Scottie "2 Hottie" Garner picked up the long long step brother of SAGIndie, Michael, while DMG and I worked a panel at the library with SAG President Alan Rosenberg. In a few hours, we will all brave the flurries to attend the much anticipated Mike White directorial debut, Year of the Dog, after which I am sure we will all return to our respective condos totally sober and in time to get a good night’s sleep for tomorrow, when we host the first of our two parties, the Actor’s Only Brunch. Not hung over. At all. That’s totally going to happen. I prrrromish.

eliza

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