I have an irritating habit of missing key prizewinners at film festivals, so it was with some astonishment that I perused the list of films honored at the close of the Edinburgh Film Festival — only to find that I’d seen most of them. Considering the brevity of my visit, and my mostly random selection procedure, I can only conclude that the less I prepare for a fest, the better I do.
Clearly, it’s not because I have a natural nose for a winner — I’d never have guessed that Aaron Schneider’s sluggish, self-regarding folk tale “Get Low” was a likely winner of the festival’s Audience Award, yet the public evidently responded to it more than I did. No accounting for tastes, I suppose.
This particular award has proven something of a good luck charm in recent years, with winners like “Tsotsi,” “Man on Wire” and “The Secret of Kells” all going on to bigger things — perhaps last year’s Toronto buzz for the Robert Duvall vehicle wasn’t a false alarm after all.
*All historical figures cited are adjusted to
The poor Los Angeles Film Festival has had to battle major sporting events at every pass this year. Beats being screwed by World Cup refs, I guess. The final press release, in part:
My brief trip to the Edinburgh Film Festival came to an end Friday evening, as I hopped on a bus to Glasgow for a weekend with friends — sadly, that means I missed Tilda Swinton’s flashmob dance event, but I’m waving my right hand in the air as I type. It’ll have to do.
I grew up with a father who couldn’t be pried from the TV every Sunday, sometimes Saturdays for the Busch races, too. So, naturally, I hated NASCAR. Everything about it. The kneejerk taunts of redneck ridicule were easy for me to saddle up to as well.
I haven’t been able to cover this year’s LA fest with the diligence I had hoped, given that I’ve had company for nearly two weeks. But today the jury winners were announced, so as a quick break from World Cup drama today, the press release, in part:
*All historical figures cited are adjusted to
Well, we
My third day in the ‘Burgh (shut up, I have legitimately heard people call it that) wasn’t as film-heavy as the previous one: social commitments and a certain football match between Slovenia and some other country got in the way. Under these circumstances, three screenings — taken together, as disparate a cross-section of the U.S. indie scene as one could ask for — felt like an entirely honorable commitment, particularly when the first (and worst) of them rewarded me with the still-smarting black eye I mentioned
Some time ago I remember an interview or maybe just a bit of director Craig Brewer’s general PR patter that he was interested in making a series of films that reflect various styles of music.
I’m not saying it — Guardian art critic Jonathan Jones is. In a brief but gutsy
Catch up with the idea behind this series