Because I have started to lose track, a quick rundown of recent spectations:
On Tuesday I say Black Gold [siff], which leaves me feeling a little guilty every time I order an espresso beverage.
Wednesday "wins" the award for festival lowpoint with both Arctic Son [siff] and VishwaThulasi [siff].
Thursday was a modest improvement. In the morning I saw Eve and the Fire Horse, pleasant enough except I was somehow expecting a trippy dreamy movie and instead saw one about Canadian girls who decide to become Catholic after a mormon [?] leaves them a religious book. Later, The Great Match [siff], turned out not to be a documentary, but still cute, just not two hours worth and definitely not worth rushing from the bar to the theater.
Friday, no movies. What? Instead we grabbed free food from the graduation reception and went to the High Dive and Triangle in Fremont. It's fine when no one's around, but once the hordes descend on the neighborhood it kind of freaks me out. Luckily, I convinced people that going to Capitol Hill was the answer so that I could get a ride to Neumo's for the Mountain Goats. They were fantastic, and slightly crazy, which is pretty much my favorite kind of performance.
I woke up on Saturday in time to watch a World Cup match before going down to Broadway Performance Hall for the three-hour documentary The Power of Nightmares: the Rise of the Politics of Fear [siff]. As good as it was -- following the simultaneous rise of neoconservatives and Islamic extremism -- I suspect that it worked better in three separate pieces, spread over three weeks. It was a lot to take all at once. Later, Pam and I went to the gala/screening for Perhaps Love [siff]. For now, it is my favorite of the gala presentations, even though I didn't fully understand every plot element. With Christopher Doyle doing the cinematography, the story could have been about phone book reading and it still would have been pretty enough to watch for two hours. At the party, held at the D.A.R., a group brought a pair of dragons to life, a lot of gin was consumed, and goat milk ice cream was served. We did not score invites to after-after parties.
Probably for the best, because I had to wake up at 6 this morning to watch the Netherlands play Serbia & Montenegro. It was worth getting up to see that very pretty first half goal. With the game over, I saw loudQUIETloud: a Film about the Pixies [siff] and found that after seeing the band three times in the course of a couple years I actually know and like several of their songs. I also ♥ Kim Deal. Next was The Road to Guantanamo [siff], another of the staged documentaries that Michael Winterbottom does so well. It was good, but can you really "like" a movie about your government locking away innocent people in Cuba for years as enemy combatants?
After that, I caught a nifty demonstration of wirework techniques, ran downtown for a haircut, quickly cooked dinner, and met Chris at Northwest Film Forum to watch the Coachella movie. There was a lot of footage from 2004, the year that we went. Although we didn't positively identify ourselves in the crowd scenes, it's pretty likely that we were in at least one scene. Either way, it was a well produced concert picture and a nice trip down memory lane.