THE MAINE INTERNATIONAL FILM FESTIVAL
2005 DIARY

By Laurie Meunier Graves

DAY 10

Here we are at the last day of the festival, and what a festival it has been! I’ve been going to MIFF for many years, but I cannot remember a year when the movies were as consistently good as they have been this year. There were even a few excellent ones, movies that were so fine that it almost felt like a privilege to watch them. Film lovers who don’t have ready access to a film festival or to an art cinema should take heart. In the upcoming months, many of these movies will be available on DVD, and Netflix is just a click away. Right now, the long, hot days of July are here to lull us, but soon, for a good portion of the country, it will be winter, a perfect time to make some hot chocolate, pop some popcorn, and settle down with a movie.

As a potential guide, here is my list of the excellent and the very good.

THE EXCELLENT

Bearing Witness
The Beat That My Heart Skipped
Overlord

THE VERY GOOD

Exiles
Running in High Heels
Nathalie
Land of Plenty
Shakespeare Behind Bars
Reel Paradise
Le gout des jeunes filles
A Sidewalk Astronomer
Beauty Academy of Kabul
The Overture
In a Nutshell
The Disappearance
The Real Dirt on Farmer John


Now, for the movies of the day.

IN A NUTSHELL
USA, 2005; 80 minutes; video; in English



This documentary takes a clear-eyed yet poignant look at the life of Elizabeth Tashjian, and, in the process, explores what it means to be an artist, to be a woman, to be eccentric, to be old, and to be poor. That’s a lot to pack into eighty minutes, but the director, Don Bernier, a Maine native, manages to make it all come together in a moving way. Using old film clips, stills, and interviews with Tashjian, her friends, and her adversaries, Bernier tells the story of a talented, exasperating woman who was born in the wrong generation (1912) and into the wrong family (when she was just a little girl, her father deserted Elizabeth and her mother and left them destitute).

We learn that Tashjian’s mother was a Christian Scientist healer and that this was how she supported the family. They lived in New York City, and at twenty-two, Tashjian was “an award-winning artist studying at the National Academy of Design.” In the film two things become clear—Tashjian had talent, and her obsession with nuts, painting them as still lifes, began when she was fairly young.

Tashjian also had what might be called “dependency issues,” and never went out on her own to work or to raise a family. She lived with her mother, and when her mother died, Tashjian was faced with the task of supporting herself and maintaining a mansion in Old Lyme, Connecticut, which her mother had bought years earlier. What to do? Open a Nut Museum, of course, and charge three dollars and a nut for the price of admission. This worked surprisingly well for a number of years. So well, in fact that Tashjian was invited to be on the Johnny Carson Show and on To Tell the Truth as well as a number of other shows.

But then Tashjian grew old, very old, and when she was ninety or so, she collapsed in her house, where she was found by a social worker. The mansion was in complete shambles, and Tashjian was taken to a nursing home, where she lives to this day. At this point, the mood of the film shifts from a somewhat light-hearted look at a woman who, as my friend Willow would say, is “outside the loop,” to a story of old age, loss, and a refusal to face the reality of being poor.

Like most elders in a nursing home, Tashjian rails against her situation, and it’s impossible not to feel sorry for this old woman who has become a ward of the state. Yet, it is also clear that Tashjian can no longer take care of herself or her home and that it is time to let go. This viewer can’t help but think that Tashjian does indeed belong in a nursing home.

But for me, what is the saddest is not that Tashjian went into a nursing home, a fate, after all, that awaits many of us, but rather that she was not able to make it as an artist. She had talent, but talent is never enough, and for a woman of her generation, the odds were clearly against her. We can think of a lot of men who were artists during that time, but, at most, only a handful of women come to mind.

Still, Tashjian had a good run for a number of years. She had her mansion, her Nut Museum, and her brief moment of fame. It wasn’t as much as she should have had, but it is more than what most people get.

BALZAC AND THE LITTLE CHINESE SEAMSTRESS
China/France, 2003; 110 minutes; 35mm; in Mandarin and French with English subtitles

1/2

A slight, uneven film about oppression in China in 1971 during the Cultural Revolution. Luo and Ma, two young students, as part of their “re-education,” are sent to a remote mining village. With plenty of nubile young women, including the little seamstress, who bathe in nearby hot springs, the two young men manage to make their re-education look like a Chinese summer of love. True, they have to work in the fields and in the mine, but there still seems to be plenty of time for frolicking in the water, sex, and cookouts. And, of course, reading forbidden literature in an attempt to educate the little seamstress. Hence the title.

This is supposedly a tale about the power of art and literature, but the movie seems more interested in the ménage à trois of Luo, Ma, and the little seamstress. And, this may seem like a petty observation, but, as far as I can remember, the little seamstress does very little sewing and instead spends most of her time looking adorable. These two features, along with an abrupt, jarring ending, make a film that is less than satisfying.

THE DISAPPEARANCE
United Kingdom/Canada, 1977; 100 minutes; 35mm; in English



This is the next to the last movie of the last day of the festival, and that old familiar “fried” feeling has settled in. When this is combined with the fact that I’m not really a fan of thrillers or film noir, it would seem that The Disappearance would be a complete bust for me. That this isn’t the case is a testament not only to the acting but also to Stuart Cooper’s direction. Therefore, I am moderately engaged as bug-eyed Jay Mallory (Donald Sutherland), “a contract killer,” searches for his beautiful but temperamental wife (Francine Racette), who seems to have disappeared. The movie shifts back and forward in time, often depending on Mallory’s unreliable memory, which lends a nice tone of suspense and mystery to the movie.

THE REAL DIRT ON FARMER JOHN
USA, 2005; 83 minutes; video; in English



Usually, by the time the last film of the festival rolls around, I am so tired that I can hardly stand the movie, no matter what it is. However, this documentary of the flamboyant but persistent farmer John Peterson, touches a nerve with me, and I am with him all the way as he faces his many adversities. Born into a farming family in rural Illinois, Peterson is a third-generation farmer. A child of the 1960s, Peterson turns the farm into “a community for hippies and artists,” a move that does not set well with his conservative neighbors. The hippies’ high jinks fuel rumors—untrue, of course—that the farm harbors some sort of evil cult that practices satanic rituals. This leads to nonstop harassment and even arson. Finally, Peterson complains to the sheriff, who puts a stop to it. However, then come the 1980s and the farm debt crisis, and Peterson literally loses most of the farm that his family has worked so hard to build. A sister is interviewed, and it is clear that she still blames him for what happened.

However, his Mom, a woman of seemingly infinite optimism and vitality, supports him in every way, emotionally and even, at times, financially, helping him buy seeds when he runs out of money. At his nadir, Peterson makes the decision to turn what little land he has into a community supported organic farm. Does our hero triumph in the end? Indeed, he does, and I feel a vicarious thrill in watching him overcome the many obstacles that would have defeated a lesser man.

This inspiring documentary will be shown on PBS in the upcoming months. Don’t miss it!

Finally, as frosting on the cake, so to speak, the MIFF crew somehow persuaded John Peterson to come to the film festival for a Q & A after the film. He is greeted with enthusiastic applause and is just as engaging in person as he is in the film.

A fine, fine way to end the festival.










 

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