And now, the thrilling conclusion of my OCFF 2024 adventures!
Viewing entries tagged
film festival coverage
The theme of Oak Cliff Film Festival (OCFF) 2024 – movies are all around us – fit with my experience of the fest. The opening night celebration launched with an endearing short film, shot by the OCFF crew, in which an escaped Wes Anderson character extols the virtues of seeing movies everywhere we look. (Full disclosure: Chris Gardner, the actor who portrays the quirky “filmthropoligist” in the short, is my across-the-street neighbor and runs PR for the fest.)
During the short, Dr. Ovie McClintock makes the classic director’s frame by putting his two thumbs and forefingers together to form a widescreen rectangle. In his world, inanimate objects on the street around the Texas Theatre create the "wild, undomesticated, feral cinema" all around us. He drolly asks a parking meter about its motivation, encourages a few newspaper vending machines on their outstanding performances, and tells us that even the giant cow sitting atop the local Charco Broiler Steak House is in on the magic. “That’s not a cow,” McClintock breathlessly intones, “that’s a character!”
As the movie year rolls on, I’m excited to announce another first in my film festival adventures. It’s taken me almost ten years, but I’m finally covering my local neighborhood movie celebration as a critic. Taking place primarily at the legendary Texas Theatre, the Oak Cliff Film Festival (OCFF) is celebrating its 13th annual installment from June 20 through June 23, including dozens of screenings loaded with intriguing new titles, repertory screenings of cinema classics, multiple shorts blocks (including shorts from local Texas students), live shows, filmmaker workshops, and more.
After attending two Dallas International Film Festivals, I’ve discovered that one of the pleasures of a smaller fest is in connecting with the other movie lovers around me. One can certainly do the same at a gargantuan event like South By Southwest, but there’s a distinct difference. At SXSW, you might connect with a few people as you’re standing in line for a screening, or while in the theater before the show starts. Because of the thousands and thousands in attendance, however, there’s a good chance you might never see the same person twice over the course of the fest. That’s not the case at DIFF.
When trying to set my lineup in the DIFF ticketing system, I learned that my press badge wasn’t authorized to reserve tickets, as is the case for other film festivals like Fantastic Fest and SXSW. After a few email exchanges, I was informed that paying customers were the priority, and that I would need to queue up in the waitlist line for any movie I wanted to see. But, as is often the case in my charmed life, a magnanimous benefactor swooped in and gifted me a regular badge so that I can bypass the waitlist line, making my odds of getting into each screening much better. Many thanks are owed to my Dickensian guardian angel who did me a solid. I am eternally grateful.
After a few weeks spent recharging my battery in the wake of covering SXSW 2024, I’m locked and loaded for the 18th annual Dallas International Film Festival (DIFF), which will be held April 25-May 2 at several theaters around town. DIFF 2024 will feature screenings of over 100 titles, many of which will be world premieres. The festival will also be host to a panel discussion about the future of cinematic exhibition and dozens of opportunities to hear filmmakers speak about their movies at post-screening Q&As.
I stood in the dining room of Melody, the gracious host for my SXSW 2024 adventure. She had asked me the day before how the fest was going. I had issued a boilerplate response about how it was tiring, as fests always are, but that I was having a good time. Later I realized that she was probably asking about the quality of the fest; how good were this year’s crop of movies?
As we chatted the next day, I admitted that the movies I had seen this year weren’t quite as good as what I had seen at last year’s South By. Upon further reflection, I don’t think that sentiment is entirely the fault of the movies or the SXSW programmers. There were a few other factors at play that made me feel this way.
If you’re reading this within the first few hours of its publication, that means I’m making final preparations for my coverage of South By Southwest 2024 in Austin, TX! I’m partnering with an outside website this year, which means you’ll have to do some clicking for my reactions to what I’m watching at this year’s fest. The good folks at The Cosmic Circus are sponsoring my press credentials, so anything I write will be posted there.
Blonde Death is a stunning piece of outsider art/trash cinema. Made in 1984 by first (and only) time director James Robert Baker – aka James Dillinger – the shot-on-VHS movie is Badlands by way of a soap opera. Baker was a member of an early- ‘80s L.A. art collective called EZTV, and he was a prolific author of, as Wikipedia describes it, “sharply satirical, predominantly gay-themed transgressional fiction.” Shot with a budget of $2000 of his own money, Blonde Death has an air of Tennessee Williams about it, albeit unapologetically queer and gloriously transgressive.
As I type this, I’m getting ready to reserve my tickets for day three of the fest before making the short trek to the theater for day two’s first screening. On the docket for today is my first documentary, Scala!!!, a Fantastic Fest original found footage festival, two more 2023 releases, The Origin and What You Wish For, and I’ll wrap things up at midnight with a 1984 repertory screening of Blonde Death.
This will be a short one; day one of the fest is more like a quarter day, with the opening film of the festival – Macon Blair’s The Toxic Avenger – and a few other titles starting at 8 P.M. Other titles playing in the 8 P.M. block are The Animal Kingdom, Baby Assassins 2, #Manhole, and Messiah of Evil. There are three titles in the midnight round tonight, Sleep, In My Mother’s Skin, and Divinity.
It’s that time of year again! I’m ready to kick off Spooky Season 2023 in grand style with a trip to Austin, TX for Alamo Drafthouse’s Fantastic Fest Film Festival, which programs the wildest, most bonkers horror, sci-fi, fantasy, and cult genre films out there.
I sat in the comfy leather recliner at Violet Crown, waiting for the first screening of the day to start. I was surrounded on either side by older festival goers and we all struck up a conversation. The couple on my right were film festival fans who had splurged for the top-tier badge. The woman was looking forward to retiring within the next year; her husband was recently retired. The woman on my left and I chatted about how she had been to so many festivals that only a few minutes of talking to someone would determine for her if they had gone to film school or not. She said this after I described a movie that I had seen the previous day as being a you’ve-seen-one-you’ve-seen-them-all romcom.
I stepped into the DIFF hospitality lounge on day two of the fest ready to set my lineup. I had already sent my list of preferred screenings to the address I was given in my welcome email, but for some reason, no one responded. Neither were any of my selections linked to my account. After a few minutes of exceptional help from a hospitality volunteer, I was ready to go with fifteen screenings booked over the course of the remaining six days of the fest.
If you need any X-mas gift ideas for me this year, here’s one: a custom-made shirt that says, “I went to SXSW in 2023, and all I got was a case of covid.” After successfully avoiding that spikey little bastard for three full years, it finally got me. Unfortunately, that means it got my wife, too, since I didn’t know I was sick until after I returned home. She says she’s not mad at me. I believe her, because, frankly, she’s a better person than I am.
It was probably the one music show I attended at South By that got me sick. It was a small venue, fairly tightly packed, and I didn’t wear a mask at all for it. (My only defense is, after a trip to Ebert Interruptus, Fantastic Fest, and Las Vegas last year, I was clearly under the mistaken assumption that I was invincible.) When Melody, my friend and couch-provider-for-the-week, told me that Tangerine Dream was playing after my last screening for the day, I was all in. I audibly gasped when she told me about the show.
My first South By Southwest experience has been dominated by documentaries so far. Over my first two days of the fest, I’ve seen five films, and four of them were docs.
I arrived in Austin at a little after one in the afternoon on Monday. After checking in at the convention center to obtain my badge and any pertinent information I needed, I headed straight to the Alamo Drafthouse on South Lamar Blvd. As soon as I realized that the S. Lamar Alamo was one of the seven venues showing films for SXSW, I knew that’s where I should start, since I was already familiar with the location. I spent eight days there for Fantastic Fest 2022, after all.
I had an absolute blast covering Fantastic Fest 2022. I’m writing this post-mortem to get the final stats on the record and to mention the standouts I saw that I haven’t proselytized yet.
By the numbers:
I saw 17 short films at the fest and 28 features, for a total of 45 titles over 7.5 days.
Here’s the breakdown by day:
Day 1: 2 features, 9 shorts
Day 2: 3 features, 1 short
Day 3: 3 features
Day 4: 4 features
Day 5: 4 features, 1 short
Day 6: 5 features, 1 short
Day 7: 3 features, 2 shorts
Day 8: 4 features, 3 shorts
Me, upon waking up Saturday morning: “I could use a light entry into the screenings today. I hope the choice I made yesterday is kind of tame.”
Checks phone; sees first screening is titled Flesheater.
Also me: “Well, shit.”
Day three was the first day I didn’t leave the theater for the entire day, apart from stepping outside to get some fresh air between screenings. I arrived at 11am and didn’t leave until almost twelve hours later. One of the great things about a film festival at Alamo Drafthouse is access to a full menu for every screening, meaning you never have to leave to get food.
I felt the lack of sleep I got after day one of the fest in my bones every single minute of day two. Because of it, I made a decision that will cause me to break the promise I made to you only 72 hours ago. I’m out on the midnight (or near midnight) screenings going forward. Threeish hours of sleep a night is simply not enough for me to function. Abandoning any plan or part of a plan always makes me feel a bit like a failure, but then I remembered something. This is supposed to be fun, damn it! Plus, no one is paying me to do this, hence no one is telling me what to do, hence I can make this experience anything I want it to be.
I saw five movies – three features and two shorts – on day two. After writing and publishing the post for day one, grabbing a shower, and heading back to Alamo Drafthouse South Lamar, I was immediately treated to my favorite film of the fest so far.
Here’s how much of a creature of habit I am. The filmmaker Q&A for the last screening I attended last night at day 1 of Fantastic Fest ended a few minutes after 1:45am. By the time I got back to my host’s house – major thanks to the amazing Melody Smith, who has graciously opened her home to me during the fest – and had unwound enough to drop off to sleep, 2:30 was rearing its ugly head. Yet, right on schedule, my eyes popped open at 5:30, as they do most mornings. I was able to catnap for another 45 minutes before accepting the inevitable and starting my day.
After arriving in Austin mid-afternoon yesterday and securing my press badge, I settled in to my temporary home base with a little over four hours to kill before the first round of screenings. The good people of Fantastic Fest must have sensed I had a few free hours, because they sent me an email telling me six new films were available for me to watch via streaming as part of the Fantastic Fest @ Home option.
Might as well get an early start!