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Festival Blog by Paul Hills Part one...

Thursday 22nd April 2010 - 2.30pm UK time

Boarding the flight now. This will be my first flight to the USA since 11/09. I successfully avoided going to the USA during the Bush years. Now Obama is at the helm, I’m glad to be going. This trip, though, is necessity. My goal is to win an award. Jonnie e-mailed me yesterday telling me this. He needn’t have bothered, though. I know if full well. One of the sales agents I have been talking to since Cannes last year will only take the film if it has won awards. By winning an award it will put our film, one step closer to distribution.

2am UK time
I’m in Dallas, Texas for the transfer to Colorado Springs. The customs was terrible. Only two officers and about 600 hundred people from two flights. The questions are;
“Do you have mental health problems?” (probably)
“Are you a drug addict?” (certainly)
“Were you involved between 1933 and 1945 with nazi Germany?” (That I can answer truthfully)
“Are you trying to get into the country to do something illegal or immoral?” (Art must be in some way immoral in order to challenge perceptions, no?)

7am UK time
Finally I’m in Colorado Springs. I could just make out the mountains as Vicente, a nice Puerto Rican guy, drove me to my accommodation. It’s a palatial house that belongs to the college - complete with verandah, huge living room and en suite bath. The room I’m in is called “Garden of the Gods” after a nearby beauty spot. On the wall downstairs is an elephant which is a good sign.

Friday 23rd April 2010 - 10.30am
I’m having breakfast with Robin Jones, the film-maker liaison person who is very friendly. It’s the biggest plate of food I have ever seen in my life. By finishing it, I get a sticker acknowledging the achievement.

I get the feeling Robin likes our film. She said she watched it twice. I ask her if she will do my Q&A and she agrees. The program that I was given last night doesn’t give details of the awards. I ask her to list them. It boils down to three that we are eligible for; Best Feature Film (all 31 features eligible), Best International Film (non US shorts, docs and features meaning 30 eligible), Festival Directors Choice (all 101 shorts, features and docs). I prioritise them in that order. The first two are decided by audience vote. The last is a consensus between the three directors of the festival.

There are no acting awards but I am told if there was one, Julie would win that category. That’s good to hear. I go to the festival lobby to collect my accreditation. From across the street I can make out our yellow elephant poster in the window amongst others. Being the brightest, it stands out for a long way. Apparently Colorado Springs has 300 days a year of sunshine. Today is not one of them. It is rain, rain, rain so people joke that I have brought it with me.

3pm
After seeing a film, I was taken to the film-makers lunch by Chris Loud, the festival director. It turns out he is a big football (soccer) fan. He asks about my team and I tell him the travails of QPR. He even asks for the chant. There are about 65 of us at the lunch. I talk, talk, talk. American’s like to talk and I’m more than ready to oblige here. Talking about films is one subject I can never get bored of. It’s interesting to meet different film-makers with different experiences. In the UK the truly independent sector of film-making is very, very small. In the US it is enormous. In a way, all of us British independents have been shown the way by people like Roger Corman, Sam Raimi, George Romero, Kevin Smith and Robert Rodriguez.

9pm
It’s been an enjoyable day seeing films. A short by American film-maker Aloura Charles called “La Magique Noir” is the most memorable. It’s utter perfection - so I’m glad that I’m not really competing with it. I’m starting to feel unwell and find out that it is altitude sickness. We are 1.2 miles high here. I have to drink plenty of water. The air is so dry that my vocal chords start to feel it.

12pm
I’m just back from the opening party which was held in a cocktail bar. I’ve chatted to loads of people now. Film-makers are here from New York, LA, Canada and Columbia amongst others. I’m the only European here, though. At the party I am astounded to find out that the barman has designed a cocktail called "The lake of no return" in homage to our film. It seems there is already some expectation on our film and it has advance word of mouth. He tells me that after you’ve drunk the cocktail, there is no return. The combination of coffee and absinthe is very strange. I texted Jonnie with this snippet and asked him to create a page on our website to include the cocktail recipe!

Tomorrow is the moment of truth.

Saturday 24th April 2010 – 10am
Despite having downed three of the “No Return” cocktails last night, I still couldn't sleep. It’s a combination of jet lag, altitude sickness and being scared to death about showing the film. What do I say to introduce it? Different things keep going round in my head.

I have just done a radio interview. I discover during it that we are programmed right beside a documentary about the Vietnam war. When I came through arrivals on Thursday night there was a huge banner welcoming the troops home. This is an army town - so I am starting to wonder if anyone will show up tonight to our first screening!

2pm
I saw some more films earlier. One short film made me so angry. It must be the worst directed film I have seen for years. Any moment that could have given empathy, drama or interest was completely mishandled and blown. Also, the editing was so terrible; I could have improved the film 50% in 15 minutes in the cutting room. Utterly incredible!! Luckily, it was erased from my mind by two excellent films that followed. One was called “If I were a tree”, the other “Kiddo”. The former, being French, is a film we are competing against in the international category. Nonetheless, I marked it on the ballot, the 5 out of 5 that it deserved and hoped that God would reward my fairness!

Despite feeling exhausted, dry and dehydrated I have just been in a film-maker forum with Aloura Charles and two others. The chair of the forum didn’t get to the headline subject until near the end and plugged relentlessly another film called “Earthwork” that will also screen tonight at the same time as our film!! Afterwards, I took him to task and said “If no-one comes to my film tonight it will be thanks to you!” Anyway, it seems our film is front page of a local newspaper this morning so that might help.
One question he had asked in the forum had been about what worried us directors during the shoot because it was out of your control. Both myself and Chris Ordall (director of “Earthwork”) said that the question was rubbish. During the film-making process we are in control of everything down to the smallest detail and it is only now, when we screen the film, it is out of our control. Now is the terrifying time.

6pm
I have just had a nap to prepare mentally and spiritually for our screening tonight. I couldn’t really sleep, though. I’d call it a somnambulistic holistic semi-coma. An hour and 15 minutes to the moment of truth.

11pm
I am now at another party. The last 4 hours have been nothing short of momentous. In the lead up to the screening there seemed to be more buzz about our film than the other two. Nothing, though, could have prepared me for what happened.

Upon arrival at the cinema, I went straight up to the projection box to talk to the projectionist and check they were using the right tape, in the right aspect ratio with the right sound levels etc. That is the last bit of work a director can do before a screening. And as I am a perfectionist, I do it at every screening I attend! When I came down I walked into a riot. People were fighting and pushing to get into the cinema. I gladly gave up my place as did a couple of people from the festival. The film was way over subscribed. People had driven from other cities in Colorado just to see our film – from Denver and beyond. They had to bring in some more chairs, allow people to stand at the back or sit on the floor or steps. The film had to be delayed by 15 minutes to accommodate this. It was utterly packed out. About 20 people had to be turned away. A couple of them went crazy and started shouting, one woman was screaming for Chris Loud, the festival director, others saying they were VIP’s and they shouldn’t “be treated like this”. It was pure bedlam.

Chris Loud introduced the film and I told the audience about how the film was funded, how long it had taken and apologized that Jonnie couldn’t also be at the screening and that in fact while it screened he would be moping floors in a 2 star motel. I was able to make them laugh a couple of times which is always a good sign.

As the film started, I went down into the lobby. I learnt that the other two films were not even full. Then I bumped into Chris Odall, who, like me, was now pacing around nervously while his film screened. Apparently he hadn’t gone to the projection booth and they were playing the wrong tape.
 
I walked around the block, trying to harness my nerves as well as my thoughts for the Q&A and also to text Jonnie and Julie. It was good that we had a packed cinema but would they like it? When I got back, 30 minutes in, Robin Jones whispered to me that they were laughing and laughing. “They’re going on the journey with you” she added.

I went up to the projection box and watched the next 30 minutes from there, listening for the reaction. Then I walked around the block again. After, I went and stood by the cinema door, listening for responses to lines. The faeries scene was playing. Finally I sneaked in for the last 15 minutes and watched the audience and their reactions. They were stunned during the trip scene. At the ending I could see a woman visibly moved.

The lights went up. Pandemonium ensued. They absolutely fucking loved it. The emotion and love for the film was incredible. Everyone sat for the Q&A. No-one did a runner. At times during it, my voice faltered as the emotion was uncontrollable. Every question asked began with emphatic praise. There wasn’t one criticism. Not one. I told them of the difficulty we had faced with distribution especially in the UK and how an award would help us.

Afterwards, the majority of the audience queued to shake my hand and tell me how much they loved the film and why. It took over half an hour to see them all and was like a scrum at times. Many showed me that on the ballot (rate between 1 and 5) they had crossed out the number 5 and put instead 6, 7 or even 10! Vicente was overwhelmed by the film. One man came up to me and took out a card. He said “I’ve had this in my wallet for 5 years. I think now is the time to give it to someone else.” I looked down at the card. It said on it “Expect a miracle”.

By the end of all the kind words and appreciation and the last person had left, I had tears running down my face. It was a phenomenal response. The photographer of the festival, who had watched it all unfold, caught my eye and smiled. It was a silent exchange of mutual understanding. She had seen how momentous the occasion had been.

I’m at the party now. The place is divided between people who have seen the film and loved it and people who are desperate to see it tomorrow. Kim Peterson, one of the festival staff, has told me that everyone is talking about the film. There’s a huge buzz. She will try her best to see it tomorrow despite having to do the catering for a festival lunch. I sense now that we have a chance to win the Best International Film or Best Feature Film award, not just the director’s choice award.

Rather than party too hard, I’m now putting the film first, a going to bed early now. I want to be fresh for the next screening – it’s at 9am.

CLICK HERE FOR PART TWO...

On the plane out

The veranda

The Elephant