SUNDAY, APRIL 27

On Site at Romance and Cigarettes

I am now home from John Turturro’s brilliant film Romance & Cigarettes. The ambiance today was much different that during The Cell last night, as the old people were out again in full force. I excitedly waited in my seat while Chaz Ebert and Richard Corliss from TIME Magazine introduced the film. Chaz then exclaimed, “I’m off to see my man!” and exited the theater, bringing this year’s bittersweet Ebertfest to a close.

The film was great. Funny, moving, and catchy, with actress Aida Turturro and choreographer Tricia Brouk answering questions immediately following the screening. The mood throughout the day was all about family, both with the film’s narrative structure, and the way that Ms. Turturro spoke of her cousin, director John Turturro, and the way that the film is loosely based on his life.

Plus, I got to talk to Aida Turturro about one of my favorite guilty pleasure films: Deep Blue Sea. When I asked her if she was bummed that her character was blown up and not eaten by sharks in Deep Blue Sea, she responded, “Haha! I was in Mexico, drinking and laying on the beach…I didn’t give a shit!” It was at this moment that I fell in love with Aida Turturro.

-Andy Herren

SATURDAY, APRIL 26

On Site at Housekeeping and The Cell

Ignore the festival guide. Those pictures don’t do her justice. Christine Lahti is breath-taking up close. I know this because I awkwardly stumbled into the end of her Q&A for Housekeeping. Listening to her ala Inside the Actor’s Studio didn’t sit well with me, but hearing her speak so passionately about the little-seen ’87 film means I’ve come to the right place.

Seated for my 11 PM screening, I had time to absorb the milieu. A motley crew surrounded me: townies, students, film buffs, some dude with bad-ass tattoos – the definition of diversity. Strains of classical music wafting through the decadent Virginia Theater. Light chatter from the audience. A veritable palace steeped in cinematic tradition and passion.

With this kind of ambience, I couldn’t help but wonder, why The Cell? . And better yet, where did Christine Lahti go?

-Paul Prikazsky

On Site at Hulk

Just came back form the Ebertfest (this is my second time going to a film at one of these events). I had the distinct pleasure of seeing and hearing from Ang Lee and his remarks about his 2003 film Hulk. Ang Lee struck me as an immensely emotional soul; once you meet him, you know that he's putting his all into each and every one of his films. I think that is why he has been so hurt by the negative reviews and box-office performance of Hulk. One surprise was Joseph Pantoliano, (guest speaker for Canvas) who was in the audience and asked a question to Lee after the showing.

-Colin Bird

FRIDAY, APRIL 25

On Site at Mishima: A Life in Four Chapters

I returned to The Virginia during a lull in the storm, in time for the 10PM start of Mishima: A Life in Four Chapters. I imitated the regulars and left my jacket on a seat in the afternoon, to save myself the hassle for tonight. I suppose that's cheating, but I doubt I'm the only one who's done it.

Chaz came on stage and said that, despite rumors, Roger will definitely not be coming to the festival over the weekend. It would just be too risky, she said.

I've lately been reading Schrader's early criticism from the seventies. His approach is kind of like Nietzsche's: criticism with a hammer. He scorns anything serious from Hollywood, including most films even cineastes may find artistic or profound (Easy Rider, 2001, Gimme Shelter, to name a few).

David Bordwell, Paul Schrader and Eiko Ishioka talking about Mishima

Well, Schrader is a talented director. Mishima is probably the most complex, stylish, and dramatic film of the festival - swirling around from black-and-white to color, from standard narrative to impressionistic theater, from exposition to abstraction. It's a kind of inverse of Travis Bickle in Taxi Driver, instead of poor, uneducated, straight, American, and white, we get an anti-hero who's affluent, well-reared, homosexual, and Japanese - but both are obsessed with the glory of suicide.

-Tim Peters

When finally I “excuse me’d” my way through the dense, immobile forest of senior citizens blocking the doorways to the Virginia, I realized that the theater itself was relatively unpacked. I actually found myself three open seats in the center section, about 7 rows from the front – right where I wanted to sit in order to get a good look at Mishima’s writer and director Paul Schrader during the Q&A while not having to break my neck by looking straight up for a two-hour film.

I actually got to sit in an ideal spot with no one to my right or left. At Ebertfest. By the time Chaz Ebert came onstage, gushed about the specialness of this, the 10th Ebertfest, and presented David Bordwell for a few pre-screening comments, it became obvious to me that, for one reason or another, a sizeable fraction of the festival pass holders had left. Apparently it was past the crowd’s bedtime. At first I joked to a woman on my left about it. She just kind of smiled and shrugged. Then I found out I must have been at least partially right when, during the Q&A with Paul Schrader and Eiko Ishioka (Mishima’s production and costume designer), several people in front of me (and probably many behind) curled under blankets and shut their eyes.

Dear Ebertfest Geriatric-types: Have some fucking respect for artists. Paul Schrader penned Travis Bickle and Taxi Driver (1976) into existence. What have you made? A Christmas sweater for your grandson?

I understand that everyone becomes old someday and that you paid for a ticket and should be able to sleep in public if you damn well please, but at least out of common courtesy, couldn’t you doze off on the balcony instead of the fourth row where the director can see you?

The lukewarm applause at the end of Mishima stunned me. Here I was, feeling like I just witnessed a landmark moment in metacinematic filmmaking, and the crowd seemed unimpressed and ready to go home. How could they observe the multitude of bold color schemes; the daring leap into the world of abstraction and symbolism; the philosophical notions of unity in life, death, and art; and the sheer gall of an auteur filmmaker giving the finger to traditional notions of realism, believability, and continuity in cinema; and respond by yawning?

On a side note: what’s the deal with the Virginia Theater soda prices? It’s $1 for a 16 oz. cup, and $2 for a 24 oz. cup. Something tells me that doesn’t add up.

-Jeff Brandt

On Site at The Real Dirt on Farmer John

So, I’m at the Virginia Theater to see The Real Dirt on Farmer John. The first thing I see when I get inside the actual theater? A guy playing an old-fashioned piano.

The Ebertfest Organist

It turns out my fellow correspondent has snagged us seats right in front of said man, so I’m excited. The nice lady next to me, Barbara Quigley, tells me that he does this every year, and he just turned 70. Barbara herself has been coming to Ebertfest for five years. Everybody seems pretty enthusiastic, including Char Ebert, who continues to take her husband’s place. The movie itself is great. Farmer John is such a cool, goofy guy. The movie really wasn’t what I was expecting, and I must say I was pleasantly surprised. Who would’ve thought organic farming could be so interesting? If only Ebert could’ve been there.

-Katharine O'Brian

On Site at Shotgun Stories

I left class halfway through and hustled up to The Virginia for the 11:30 first show of Shotgun Stories. The line to enter was down the block, hundreds of patrons, standing with their shoulder bags and ball caps and sunglasses, bracing against the gale winds. Apparently, people come out here as early as 9:00AM to line up, get in, and throw down a pastel windbreaker to claim a seat for the day.

Shotgun Stories was a slow, quiet, pastoral beginning to the day. The audience seemed restless and sleepy, though they praised director Jeff Nichols when he took the stage for a brief interview. It left me indifferent – it was earnest, but awkward, authentic but unoriginal.

-Tim Peters

THURSDAY, APRIL 24

On Site at Canvas

It’s 7:45pm and I’m sitting outside nervously awaiting the arrival of my co-correspondent. I gave her bum directions on my cell as I tried to help an elderly woman I spilled free coffee on a few seconds earlier.

She arrived safely and (as a former Ebertfest volunteer) I showed her the ropes of the fest. Where the VIPs hang out, Roger’s La-Z-Boy (empty), and reiterated film geek jargon about the importance of old theaters like The Virginia.

Roger's Empty La-Z-Boy

We are scanning the crowd for potential interviews, eventually we zero in on some students, a middle aged woman, and a volunteer. Every one seems to share the same enthusiasm for just being at Ebert’s festival.

A little past 8:45pm, Chaz Ebert arrives onstage to introduce the director of a documentary dedicated to “Wildman” Dusty Cole. I remember him from last year, and feel kind of bad for ragging on his attire.

After a brief introduction to the film, the curtains open and the film commences…

Wow! I thought we were in for a Lifetime movie, but this was something far better. I can’t wait for the director and Joe Pantaliano to come talk about it. I’m feeling pretty confident that THIS YEAR I will grow a sack and ask a question.

I HAVE THE MIC IN MY HAND! My legs are shaking, I know I’m going to stammer as I talk, but I do it anyway. Question à “With the very important upcoming election, and health care being a main platform, how/what have you been doing to utilize this film in the fight for understanding of mental illnesses?” The answer lasted 30 minutes, which was amazing. Basically A LOT is being done with this film!

We wait in the crowd to get a chance to meet “Joey Pants” and it’s looking pretty good. I scored a picture and an autograph, and he even hits on my co-correspondent and invites us to a private interview to take place in the next few days!

April and Joey Pants

Sweetness was the theme of the night, and I’m still on cloud nine from my experience at Ebertfest 2008!

-Matt Telles

On Site atYes

Shakespeare would have been proud. Actually, I think I did see a guy with wavy dark brown hair, a receding hairline, and a hipster mustache in the audience.

Naw. All jokes aside, it's hard to believe that writer-director Sally Potter wrote the dialogue to Yes (2005) all in iambic pentameter. Could you imagine that? Sitting down to write a screenplay with a story in mind and deciding that all your characters should speak in series of ten-syllable lines, with alternating unstressed and stressed syllables?

Too bad Potter could not attend the Ebertfest screening, because I suspect the crowd would have become a lot more animated with interesting questions after the feature. Instead we got the Executive Producer John Penotti, who, God bless 'im, seems proud of Yes without exactly being an expert on it.

-Jeff Brandt