Hello from Austin.
Sitting in the bar of the Hotel Driskill, after ducking out of a panel discussion that was going over old territory. Quick update: I wound up going to the Pitch Competition, and advanced to the Finals, which are tomorrow night. The problem is that if I want to pitch tomorrow night, I'm going to miss the screening of Ghostbusters, which I haven't seen on the big screen since the third reconciliation of the last of the Meketrex supplicants. Plus, Q&A with Harold Ramis and Ernie Hudson! Boss! I know Ernie might be the least famous Ghostbuster, but he did utter the classic line, "If someone asks you if you're a god, you say YES!"
On the flipside, the winner of the competition gets a free Producer's Badge to next year's conference/film festival. That's a value of around $500, maybe more, so it's tempting... But then again, who knows if I'll be in a position to come back next year? A year's a long time, and Ithaca is wild and unpredictable, ready to tear your throat out and leave you dying on the side of the road.
Oh, wait. That's not Ithaca. That's werewolves.
Haven't decided yet what Im going to do. Probably going to be a gametime decision.
Yesterday's movies!
I had hoped to see Going Through Splat, but technical difficulties intervened. So a newfound friend and I (hello, Jen!) double-timed it over to a documentary called Walking The Line, which, coincidentally, was directed by two young fellows from Ithaca. It's a disturbing and sometimes funny (but mostly disturbing) account of the "border wars" going on between Mexico and various Americans living along the border. Who are these Mexicans? Drug-smugglers? Hungry and desperate migrants? A full-scale stealth invasion designed to re-take the land given to America in the Treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo? Depends who you ask, and they ask everyone. I enjoyed the flick, and hope it goes somewhere.
As much as I enjoyed Walking the Line, the homerun film of last night was called The Civilization of Maxwell Bright, starring Patrick Warburton in a breakout, Oscarworthy, downright brilliant, bawdy, and layered performance, Eric Roberts, and Marie Matiko, who should be a superstar.
In a nutshell, Max Bright hates women. When he's not getting stabbed during a naked shouting match with his latest girlfriend, he's tempting fate, yelling, "Shoot me, you crazy cunt!" at the female police officers called to his house. The guy raises misogyny to an artform. He decides to get a mail-order bride from Asia, a woman who is submissive, servile, and trained in the ancinet arts of sex by experts, even as she remains a virgin.
Of course, there's more to buying a woman from a broker than just fun and games. Which, let's face it, is a disappointing reality we all need to face once in a while.
Warburton absolutely kills here. We all loved him as Puddy on "Seinfeld," and his voicework as Superman and on "The Venture Brothers," but in this one, he blows the doors off the back of the theater. Max Bright is a charming, self-centered, funny, cruel sadistic asshole who is just as likely to protect his mousy friend (Roberts) and support him throughout his life as he is to threaten to "put his foot so far up your ass, it'll come out of your mother's pussy." This gasbag could easily be the most reprehensible character in movie history, and he is, but Warburton plays him perfectly, getting us to root for the guy even as he makes one horribly cruel mistake after another.
Note: For another acting gem by Warburton, hunt down The Woman Chaser. It's a tremendously beautiful film, and Warburton owns the titular role.
Marie Matiko as Mai Ling, the mail-order bride who provides Max's redemption, is a beguiling sensation. She brings a peaceful strength to the otherwise extremely kinetic film, her beauty provides a perfect counterpoint to Max's brash roughness, and her performance is a work of art.
It is a wonder to observe as Max and Mai Ling change through the film, not just due to the circumstances where they find themselves, but also due to the influence of each on the other.
Warburton, Matiko, and director David Beaird deliver an unblinking look at the humor and horrors in love, hate, marriage, and death. Despite one misfire (Jennifer Tilly almost pulls it off as a brilliant, blunt doctor, but let's face it, you want your oncologist to be as far from Tiffany as possible), this one is sure to make my year-end Top Ten.
To my understanding, A-Game spent the whole day hungover in bed. I haven't seen him much, due to my schedule. Oh, A-Game. I miss you so.
And one last shoutout to the Austin Film Festival Red Bull team, who have now hooked me up twice when I was starting to fade. It's not Trucker Pills, but on the upside, Red Bull doesn't cause major organ failure, to my knowledge.
Sitting in the bar of the Hotel Driskill, after ducking out of a panel discussion that was going over old territory. Quick update: I wound up going to the Pitch Competition, and advanced to the Finals, which are tomorrow night. The problem is that if I want to pitch tomorrow night, I'm going to miss the screening of Ghostbusters, which I haven't seen on the big screen since the third reconciliation of the last of the Meketrex supplicants. Plus, Q&A with Harold Ramis and Ernie Hudson! Boss! I know Ernie might be the least famous Ghostbuster, but he did utter the classic line, "If someone asks you if you're a god, you say YES!"
On the flipside, the winner of the competition gets a free Producer's Badge to next year's conference/film festival. That's a value of around $500, maybe more, so it's tempting... But then again, who knows if I'll be in a position to come back next year? A year's a long time, and Ithaca is wild and unpredictable, ready to tear your throat out and leave you dying on the side of the road.
Oh, wait. That's not Ithaca. That's werewolves.
Haven't decided yet what Im going to do. Probably going to be a gametime decision.
Yesterday's movies!
I had hoped to see Going Through Splat, but technical difficulties intervened. So a newfound friend and I (hello, Jen!) double-timed it over to a documentary called Walking The Line, which, coincidentally, was directed by two young fellows from Ithaca. It's a disturbing and sometimes funny (but mostly disturbing) account of the "border wars" going on between Mexico and various Americans living along the border. Who are these Mexicans? Drug-smugglers? Hungry and desperate migrants? A full-scale stealth invasion designed to re-take the land given to America in the Treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo? Depends who you ask, and they ask everyone. I enjoyed the flick, and hope it goes somewhere.
As much as I enjoyed Walking the Line, the homerun film of last night was called The Civilization of Maxwell Bright, starring Patrick Warburton in a breakout, Oscarworthy, downright brilliant, bawdy, and layered performance, Eric Roberts, and Marie Matiko, who should be a superstar.
In a nutshell, Max Bright hates women. When he's not getting stabbed during a naked shouting match with his latest girlfriend, he's tempting fate, yelling, "Shoot me, you crazy cunt!" at the female police officers called to his house. The guy raises misogyny to an artform. He decides to get a mail-order bride from Asia, a woman who is submissive, servile, and trained in the ancinet arts of sex by experts, even as she remains a virgin.
Of course, there's more to buying a woman from a broker than just fun and games. Which, let's face it, is a disappointing reality we all need to face once in a while.
Warburton absolutely kills here. We all loved him as Puddy on "Seinfeld," and his voicework as Superman and on "The Venture Brothers," but in this one, he blows the doors off the back of the theater. Max Bright is a charming, self-centered, funny, cruel sadistic asshole who is just as likely to protect his mousy friend (Roberts) and support him throughout his life as he is to threaten to "put his foot so far up your ass, it'll come out of your mother's pussy." This gasbag could easily be the most reprehensible character in movie history, and he is, but Warburton plays him perfectly, getting us to root for the guy even as he makes one horribly cruel mistake after another.
Note: For another acting gem by Warburton, hunt down The Woman Chaser. It's a tremendously beautiful film, and Warburton owns the titular role.
Marie Matiko as Mai Ling, the mail-order bride who provides Max's redemption, is a beguiling sensation. She brings a peaceful strength to the otherwise extremely kinetic film, her beauty provides a perfect counterpoint to Max's brash roughness, and her performance is a work of art.
It is a wonder to observe as Max and Mai Ling change through the film, not just due to the circumstances where they find themselves, but also due to the influence of each on the other.
Warburton, Matiko, and director David Beaird deliver an unblinking look at the humor and horrors in love, hate, marriage, and death. Despite one misfire (Jennifer Tilly almost pulls it off as a brilliant, blunt doctor, but let's face it, you want your oncologist to be as far from Tiffany as possible), this one is sure to make my year-end Top Ten.
To my understanding, A-Game spent the whole day hungover in bed. I haven't seen him much, due to my schedule. Oh, A-Game. I miss you so.
And one last shoutout to the Austin Film Festival Red Bull team, who have now hooked me up twice when I was starting to fade. It's not Trucker Pills, but on the upside, Red Bull doesn't cause major organ failure, to my knowledge.
1 Comments:
be sure to try gingerbread pancakes while you're in town - Magnolia Cafe or Kerby Lane Cafe are suppliers.
Post a Comment
<< Home