THE MAINE INTERNATIONAL FILM FESTIVAL
2004 DIARY
By Laurie Meunier Graves
DAY 2
The Film Goddess is gone, and I miss her. For years, she stood on top of a
metal tower outside of Railroad Square Cinema, and she was adorned in
various ways, sometimes with actual film, sometimes with clothing. I have
heard her described as creepy, but somehow that does not seem inappropriate.
A goddess should not be welcoming and cheery. All right, she was actually a
mannequin pilfered from who knows where, and it is true that she had seen
her better days. But, in my mind, she had become larger than life, the
grande dame of cinema, so to speak. Impartial as the Statue of Liberty, she
surveyed the parking lot, the cinema, and a bit of upper Main Street. All
were equal under her cool gaze, and it didn’t matter which side of town you
came from or what your race and religion were. Her message was clear: the
movies were the thing; everything else was irrelevant.
In her place is what looks like, as my friend Alice Johnson put it, a straw
volcano. I am told it is supposed to be a birdhouse, and it does have
openings in the side. There’s nothing wrong with it, really, and a volcano
might be an appropriate symbol for the feelings stirred by movies. But it
can’t compete with the film goddess. Not by a long shot.
RUTH MOORE: I HAVE SEEN HORIZONS
USA, 2002; 28 minutes; video in English
M. C. RICHARDS: THE FIRE WITHIN
USA, 2003; 60 minutes; video in English
These are two short documentaries that focus respectively on writer Ruth
Moore and artist M. C. Richards. Ruth Moore was a Maine writer who lived
from 1903 to 1989. During her long life she wrote novels and poetry, and the
film features various friends, relatives, and admirers reflecting on Moore.
What emerges is a portrait of a reclusive, talented, independent woman who
cared deeply about Maine. I get the impression that as Moore aged, she was
not a dear old lady. Then again, she was a writer. The film is unpolished,
but interesting, and I was especially taken with the sections that had
people reading from her novels. These readings illustrate Moore’s vivid and
supple prose as well as her ability to nail down her characters. It makes me
want to rush out (after the film festival, of course) and get some of
Moore’s books.
I am less taken with The Fire Within. This film features many clips
of interviews with M. C. Richards as she expounds on her philosophy of art
and life. Richards’s stresses unleashing the creative spirit and that the
artist shouldn’t have to choose between being down to earth and a dreamer.
Certainly, these are admirable sentiments. Unfortunately, the film’s
examples of Richards’s work do not reflect a first-rate talent. Her abstract
paintings are mediocre at best, self-indulgent splashes of colors that
cause her to crow with delight. Some of her pottery is more interesting,
but much of what I see in the film could have been created by almost any
potter. To me, there is nothing special about it. Ultimately, when a
documentary film is about an artist, it is the work that counts, and
although Richards’s flamboyant personality is captivating, it does not
compensate for the humdrum art that is shown.
BLUEGRASS JOURNEY
USA, 2003; 86 minutes; video in English and bluegrass
“It’s folk music in overdrive.”
From Bluegrass Journey
This kicky film, on the other hand, is as captivating and inspiring as it
is informative. Directors Ruth Oxenberg and Rob Schumer take the viewer
into the world of bluegrass, focusing primarily on the Gray Fox Festival in
New York. As is almost the norm at such events, there’s a torrential
downpour that turns most of the area into a mud pit. No matter. The fans
tough out the bad weather, and, after hearing the music, it’s not hard to see
why. Various groups play an astonishing variety of music that all falls in
the category of bluegrass. Some of it sounds like the traditional
fast-playing, heart-pumping music that we associate with bluegrass. But some
of it sounds like jazz, rock, country, blues, Celtic, and even classical
music. It truly is an eclectic genre, coming from many traditions and many
ethnic groups, and it feels completely American. The music is joyous, sad,
pensive, and uplifting, capturing a wide range of human experiences and
emotions. After watching this joyous film, I almost began to wish that I
were a musician rather than a writer.
The music, of course, is the thing, but I am struck by the generosity
of the musicians, who lead music lessons between stage performances and in
one scene, even encourage group participation from onstage. Also, by the
musicians’ passion for jamming, which could go on until three in the
morning. Those musicians just love to play. Put an instrument in their hands
and that’s just what they will do. Finally, by the broad range of ages of
the musicians, from the very young to the elderly. It’s rare to find music
that cuts across generations the way bluegrass does.
Interspersed with scenes from the festival are interviews with various
musicians. By the time the movie is done, the viewer really gets a sense of
the history of bluegrass (Bill Monroe, the “father” of bluegrass, started
the genre in the late 1940s), how it has evolved, and how it continues to
appeal to so many people. It is vibrant music, full of rawness and power,
and it’s my guess that bluegrass will be around for a long time.
FACING WINDOWS
Italy, 2004; 106 minutes; 35mm; in Italian with English subtitles
This is one of those frustrating movies that starts out strong but sputters
to a weak and an implausible ending. It builds up viewers only to slam them
down, and to my way of thinking, this is even worse than a movie that is
consistently bad from beginning to end. Dashed expectations are always
unpleasant.
The movie begins intriguingly in the early 1940s in Rome, Italy. Two young
men are in a bakery, and one murders the other. No sooner has he done this
(and left a bloody handprint on one of the buildings) then the movie
switches to the present to focus on the beautiful, sharp, bitchy Giovanna,
who is unfulfilled in both her marriage and with her job in a chicken plant. She
is shrewish with her weak husband, Filippo, and impatient with her two
children. However, she takes time out from nagging and scolding to smoke
cigarettes and stare dreamily out her window into the apartment window of a
neighbor who is so handsome that he looks as though he just stepped out of a
fashion ad. What woman wouldn’t stare at him? And though Giovanna is at
first an unsympathetic character, the film really does succeed in drawing us
into her world and even makes us care about her.
To further complicate matters, Filippo, who has a soft heart as well as a
weak personality, comes upon a befuddled old man in the street, and against
Giovanna’s wishes, takes him into their home. The old man, who appears to be
in the throes of dementia, has lost his memory, and all he can remember is
that his name is Simone. At first, Giovanna is as sharp with him as she is
with everyone else and, not unreasonably, wishes to be rid of Simone as soon
as possible. But Simone is not an easy person to be rid of, and despite
Giovanna’s best efforts, he remains with her and her family.
Soon, it becomes obvious that Simone is the murderous man in the bakery, and
scenes of his memories become intertwined with scenes from the present to
provide a riveting and compelling mystery. Discovering that Simone is a
Holocaust survivor, Giovanna begins to soften as she cares for the old man,
who does have brief moments of lucidity. During one of those moments,
Giovanna reveals to Simone that what she really wants to do is leave that
chicken plant and become a pastry chef. Simone, in turn, reveals that he has
more than a passing knowledge of how to make pastries and even gives her a
brief lesson. This clinches it. They are bound by chocolate pie.
Naturally, the handsome neighbor, Lorenzo, is soon sucked into the old man’s
plight, and he takes charge in a way that Giovanna’s husband seems incapable
of doing. I won’t reveal the ending except to say that Simone miraculously
recovers from his dementia long enough to become a father figure and example
for Giovanna. In addition, the viewer is encouraged to believe that the pain
Simone suffered during the Holocaust is similar to what Giovanna is
suffering now. Given the old man’s disorientation in the beginning of the
film, the former is just plain unbelievable, and the latter is just plain
ludicrous. Can the suffering incurred by the Holocaust really compare with a
person’s struggle for self-fulfillment? Of course it can’t, and it is
unfortunate that this ridiculous ending sinks what could have been a very
good movie.
THE DOOR IN THE FLOOR
USA, 2004; 111 minutes; 35mm; in English
“Since sexuality is of our being, sex cannot be called…immoral or
uninteresting. But it is terribly limited; and its appeal being unfailing it
is—or ends by being—a cheap device.”
—Jacques Barzun
By a strange coincidence, The Door in the Floor suffers from a
similar yet opposite problem than what Facing Windows suffers from; that
is, a bad beginning and a good ending. For the first two thirds of the
movie, Door in the Floor is a tedious film where the main action consists of
two emotionally flat characters having sex. Yes, these characters have their
reasons, but unfortunately this does not make the sex scenes compelling.
Worse yet, the emphasis on sex is not only “a cheap device,” but it also
slows the story to a crawl, robbing viewers of any connection they might
feel for the fornicating pair. I can’t help but think that there is just
enough good between Facing Windows and The Door in the Floor
to make one good movie. Alas, what we get are two unsatisfying films.
The plot in The Door in the Floor is as brief as the movie is boring.
Ted (Jeff Bridges), a larger-than-life writer, and his beautiful wife Marion
(Kim Bassinger) have lost two sons in a car accident. They each react in
their own way. Ted drinks and has affairs; Marion settles into a depression.
Their little girl Ruthie, born after the sons’ accident, lives in a house of
death, where her obsession is on the many photographs of the sons. For
Ruthie, these photographs have become an unhealthy map that she charts
daily. At four, Ruthie cannot understand why these two unpresent sons are so
present. So far, so good. But then along comes Eddie O’Hare, a blank
teenaged boy without any apparent spark or creativity. He has been hired by
Ted to work as his assistant. However, as soon as Eddie gets off the boat in
East Hampton, New York, and catches sight of Marion, it is more than clear
whom Eddie will assist.
Unfortunately, The Door in the Floor is nothing if not predictable. No
sooner than you can say “wealthy New Yorker” than Eddie has moved from
masturbation to fetish to premature ejaculation to the real thing with
Marion. Poor little Ruthie flits fitfully in and out of the picture, and in
flowing robes, Ted prowls around the edges like a demented cross between
Prospero and King Lear. And not much else happens.
Will the sex scenes between Marion and Eddie never end? Will the Freudian
connections never end? Will the story ever move on and will we ever form
bonds with any of these characters? Finally, in what feels like a miracle of
God, Marion gets out of the picture, and as soon as that happens, everyone
perks up. The sex stops, the interaction between the characters becomes
interesting, and even blank young Eddie gains a little pizzazz. The movie’s
ending is sad, snappy, and enigmatic all at the same time. Unfortunately,
it’s too little, too late, and it in no way compensates for the rest of this
dull movie.
Addendum from Clif:
I attended the Student Film Festival while Laurie was in a film at RR2. I
want to add in this addendum to the days diary. —Clif Graves
27th ANNUAL MAINE STUDENT FILM AND VIDEO FESTIVAVAL
Excerpts or full-length presentation from
19 student films
There is another Mini-Film Festival held within MIFF, the 27th
Annual Maine Student Film and Video Festival. The public screening and
awards ceremony, held at the MIFF Opera House venue, provides a glimpse of
the work of some upcoming film talents in Maine grade schools and high
schools.
This year’s student films illustrate that something remarkable is happening
in Maine and beyond in the way of filmmaking. In addition to the real talent
of the student filmmakers and actors, this year’s event shows that now that
there is affordable near-professional grade video and free or low- cost
digital video editing software, it is possible for individual students and
schools throughout Maine to produce a quality of film, which even a few
years ago, would have required professional equipment and substantial
budgets.
One of the highlights for me was La Petit Canada, Little Canada, a short
documentary done by an 8th grade French class in Lewiston Maine. This film
would not look out of place on PBS as part of a series such as American
Stories. But La Petit Canada was apparently not even done by a film class.
It was a French class project! The winners and runners-up in the Senior
Division (grades 9-12) were consistently of a quality that I would expect
from college film school graduates as senior projects and “calling card
films” (the short films that they hope to use to help break into Hollywood).
Ryan Bennett’s A Detective Story has style and cinematic interest. The two
winning sports reporting videos from Gardiner have the look and feel of
sports reporting. Ben Gadberry’s Mozart in Bricks reflects the care and
painstaking work of animation. The Grand Prize Winner, The Truth,
by Ryan
Cook, has a compelling story that is told well.
The bar has been raised. Student film, even grade school student film, no
longer means fuzzy, grainy and out-of-focus VHS or low-quality film with no
sound and bad editing. Next year’s Annual Maine Student Film and Video
Festival will be on my must-see list.
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