Ask Me What I Really Think

Like it says in my profile, I like to share my opinions and people who know me know that.

For that matter, since starting this blog, even people who don't know me know that. But I digress.

I got an invitation yesterday from a filmmaker friend to come to the Firehouse Theater tonight to screen his four-years-in-the-making film and provide feedback.

When I arrived, he was outside looking as nervous as an expectant mother about to deliver.

He had not yet screened the product of his labors to an audience so I think he was both nervous and excited.

Slipping by the cast of Rent practicing the score, I headed upstairs for the birth.

The 47-minute film was called That Time We Talked, comprised of a series of vignettes of friends and family, including his Mom, Dad and sisters.

He'd had each of them film a roll of Super 8 film of themselves doing whatever they liked for the 2 1/2 minute duration.

Some time later, he'd had them watch what they'd shot and record comments about it, along with other people's comments, including his own.

There was a wide variety in terms of how people shot themselves, everything from playing piano to playing with a cat and playing on a playground to drinking a PBR.

What was truly fascinating though, was their verbal reactions to what they saw.

One female friend talked of nothing but how self-conscious she was about filming herself; she concluded by stating how boring she was, a fact the audience had already ascertained.

Several of the guys came across as hat boy types, mainly discussing sex and drinking (one guy gave up beer for Lent, but two days into the 40 took up hard liquor instead).

The most interesting commentary about them was what other people said rather than their own words, which were not particularly introspective.

One girl did a fairly insightful analysis of her relationship with her boyfriend as she prepared dinner for him.

His mother provided some of the most poignant commentary in the entire film, saying that she spent two hours every morning getting ready to go to a crappy job, as she resignedly tossed items into her bag.

Earlier she had noted that her body was square even as she walked on a treadmill before work.

The filmmaker saved his own piece for last thus completing the arc of the story begun with his college friends and ending with a shared meal with his parents.

And then it was time to rip the film apart.

Actually what followed was a two-hour discussion of what we liked and didn't like about the film along with suggestions for where and how it could be improved.

You have to understand that he and his partner have been working on this thing for four years now so he knew he was too close to the project to be objective.

Our purpose was to provide the subjectivity and did we ever.

I'm no film geek, just a fan of the independent and non-mainstream kind of movies that most people find too slow-paced or dialog heavy; in other words, this film was right up my alley.

He intends to rework it to get it to the point where it can be submitted to some of the smaller and more obscure film festivals where the audiences of people like me as well as the judges are looking for exactly those kind of creative endeavors.

But before he does that, he intends to have the eight of us back for another viewing and skewering.

Talent aside, you have to be a brave filmmaker to birth your baby in a room full of opinionated people.

But after all, he asked for it and I'm the last person to withhold my thoughts, whether asked for or not.

It says so right over there ->