Saturday 17 March 2007

5 days one blog...

I wish I could've have been updating the blog on a daily basis, but it has been an insane few days here at South By South West. I'm gonna try give you an overview of the highlights. It gets crazier by the day. Let's begin on Monday...

Day one:



Paul Rudd had been at nearly every party in town up till this point and I'd seen two of the movies he was in at the festival (Knocked Up, The Ten), both of which were very good. Finally I decided to take the opportunity to say hello at The Austin Chronicle party at La Zona Rosa and ended up having a wee chat about how great London is. It had to be done, if only cos I'd seen him just about all week long. Not usually one for the whole meeting celebs and 'love you work' bull. But couldn't resist shooting the shit with him, even if only for a minute. What was particularly cool was when the 50th person came up to him to get a picture and he obliged, Paul, (that's right, he's Paul to me now) looked over and he kinda rolled his eyes at me. Yeah, I hear you mate, I thought as I returned my own knowing roll of the eyes as though I wasn't just another person who wanted to say hi to an actor and tell people about it...not at all.

(I realise the above summation is rather random, however there's so much to fit in I really am gonna zip through it all).

Day two:



The next day is equally a blur. Got up vaguely early as it had been another late night with a visit to Magnolia Cafe in the wee small hours for food as Trav was working the night shift. Saw a fairly mediocre documentary called 638 Ways To Kill Castro. It was about various different plots to kill old Fidel, (surprising that eh?) but really failed to get to the meat of anything. The closest it came when it crossed George W Bush path, referring to his warnings about anyone in the world harbouring terrorists and with the US and CIA's sponsorship of Cuban exile terrorists responsible for blowing up a plan from Barbados bound for Havana. Only danced around the subject as the focus was on the plots to kill Castro. Ultimately it was 75 minutes of movie about the fact that The Beard while probably end up dying of natural causes as a final skit to the world's biggest superpower who had tried for years to off him using everything from rockets to poisoned wetsuits to his own wife. Interesting fact, President Reagan's administration is attributed with the most attempts, 197 according to the film. And in case you didn't know, assassination of political leaders is in fact illegal.

Tuesday was in fact the final day of the film conference even though films were continuing to screen through till Saturday. With the music festival kicking off Wednesday this meant the final SXSW film fest awards were held Tuesday night with the closing party following on. Both Chris Tilly are I were somewhat perturbed that neither of us had seen any of the films that won awards. Not sure what we've been doing with ourselves all week to that point. Undeterred we headed off to the closing party where I bumped into one of the award winners and for reasons unknown to myself, but perhaps relating to my vast alcohol consumption, proceeded to tell him how good I thought his film was. Perhaps it was to ease my conscience by confusing it.

Day three:

Wednesday begins with another hangover. With blurred vision and malnutrition I drag my ass out of bed for what I have decided is to be a full day of movies to make up for prior slackness. First on the list is The Prisoner: Or How I Planned To Kill Tony Blair. It a documentary made by the same people behind Gunner Palace, a brilliant docco following a platoon of marine in Baghdad. During that film, we see a man and his brothers arrested - I remember the moment vividly. The man is given a hard time by the marines and while sat on his knees, hands tied behind his back, the man looks into camera and says, "I am journalist, this is mistake." Even then with a natural inclination to side with the marines it was obvious something was out of place. "Shup up" whispers the marine in the man's ear. "Shup up, I know this. Always 'shup up' in Iraq."

Filmmakers Michael Tucker and Pera Epperlein decided to follow up this story and discovered the man, Yunis Abbas, was telling the truth, he was a journalist. However, 'intelligence' had fingered him and his brothers as being the masterminds behind a plot to kill Tony Blair. This was of course nonsense, however, it did not stop Yunis Abbas and his brothers from spending nine months in Camp Ganci, a 'soft' internment near Abu Gharaib. Yunis also spent some time in this now infamous house of horror.

For me the tragedy of this speaks in so many volumes. Consider this for one, Yunis Abbas was imprisoned by Saddam Hussein's government for three months for things he had written (hence 'always shup up in Iraq'), where he was tortured under the reign of terror over various elements of Iraqi society as implemented by Uday Hussein. Now his so-called liberators are imprisoning him and torturing him.

It's not the best documentary in the world ever and I don't have more time or space to talk about it here, but I want to stop short of criticisms here for once. I have so much respect for filmmakers seeking out these stories in order to make sure they are heard. What right do I have to comment on the technical merits of the work? I know it's my job, but this story really got to me.

Next up I dash back to the Paramount theatre to see Big Rig, a documentary about truckers. I'd been dead excited about this one, but sadly it didn't really meet my expectations. It started out well enough in its portrait of this modern American cowboy, but ultimately went nowhere, except across the country and back a few times. But bumped into my new friends from the film Lost In Woonsocket, Thea and Malcolm. I convince Malcolm to come see this other film called Cherry Valley with me. Then I feel bad when it turns out to be the worst film in the festival. 75 minutes of my life I will never get back. I sacrifices I make to save your souls from making the same mistakes.

Back downtown me and Malcolm hit the Big Rig after party for a free beer and I end up chatting to this guy who gets me stuck on the guest list for Reign On Me, the big new Adam Sandler film that is screening a sneak peak at the Paramount. I feel really bad cos I didn't know this guy James was gonna stick me on the list and I feel awkward about asking him if he can stick Malcolm on too. Malcolm decides to go home and I feel terrible. Anyway, I get to the movie and find myself totally alone sat in the guest seating row. Next thing Malcolm strolls up and sits down next to me. Turns out he bumped into Sandler at the hotel who proceeded to make sure his name was on the list too. Awesome! The film is very funny and I really enjoyed it. Some might find it rather sacchrine, and there will always be those who just don't like Adam Sandler. But it's well worth checking out.

Afterwards I make a dash to see the midnight screening of Black Sheep, a comedy horror about, well, zombie sheep. Trust me, this film is brilliant. If you love your horror flicks then you must check this one out. It lags a little in the middle, and cos of the day I've endured I dose off momentarily, but all in this in non-stop fun. I'd met the director a couple of nights back a really cool New Zealander who was drinking a pink alcoholic beverage at the La Zona Rosa party. We bonded over our common parlance for taking the piss out of the English and the Aussies. Anyways, I'm interviewing him this week for Total Film, so that should be cool.

Day four:

The entire morning and most of afternoon is a blow due to tiredness and need to catch up on writing. But I finish up and run to join Travis in the queue for the Bloc Party gig at Stubbs BBQ. South By South West is in full swing now. I can't begin to describe the madness that has descended upon 6th street (the main street in town). It's amazing and the place is covered top to bottom in Brits, which annoys me somewhat as it really dilutes my local value. Nevertheless I catch the eye of a good-looking red head in the queue who gives me hear phone number and tells me I'm adorable. Now I don't handle these sorts of things very well, I blush terribly, start shaking and feel very odd. Not a big fan of attention like this, too much pressure involved. Or at least I think there is. Stubbs is an amazing outdoor venue by the way. One of the best in Austin I believe, and unlike anything we have at home.









Anyways, the gangs all in to see the gig. Aqualung and Get Cape. Wear Cape. Fly both play and I'm largely unimpressed. Then The Dears come on stage and I'm totally blown away. They are awesome, but I'm a little distracted now by the red head who found me inside and my once again lack of food fueled inebriation. C'est la vie. When Bloc Party come on though, I'm all ears devoting at least 85 per cent of my attention to Kele and co.





A little to my surprise the tracks from the new album sound considerable better live than on the album. I found Weekend In The City more of a 'plug in and switch off' kind of album. But no, here I am jumping around and singing along like there's no tomorrow. Then they play 'This Modern Love' and I have a proper moment. I hold it together, but it feels strange to have this girl clinging to me while I think about someone else. Strange indeed.

Day five:

Friday was to be a day getting back on the movie horse. Instead this plan was abandoned for a day of pure carnage instead. So good was Friday in fact, I am going to dedicate one blog to it. So four days is your lot in fact...I know you're secretly grateful. Allow me to placate you with this recent addition to the drive through family - drive though Starbucks. Sick.

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