Wood, And Other Mediums

crumbler:

OK, I want to see this so bad. Who’s in?

I went to Sundance this year. (Festival name drop.) Though they can be douchey and chaotic in the way that any giant industry event can be, film festivals are nevertheless a great opportunity to see slick flicks that may never again see the dim light of a theatre. They’re awesome. I went with a media credential, which afforded me one free ticket per day. I’d have to square off against the visiting masses to get a ticket for any other shows I wanted to see, or convince a publicist there was a reason I needed to attend and hope for a comp. I work for ESPN. There was rarely a reason I needed to attend.

The screening schedule at festivals is somewhat haphazard, so the best thing to do is sit down on the first day with the full festival schedule and synopsis guide and pick out everything you want to see. At Sundance, 500 Days of Summer jumped out because it featured the Greatest Actor of Our Generation, and I’d watch him in an interpretative slow-motion art film about snakes molting. (I wouldn’t buy the DVD.) For reasons misrememebered, however, I couldn’t make it to the one screening of 500 that was taking place during the four days I was in Park City. That bummed me out; I later inched closer to full despondency upon reading in that weekend’s “Sundance Recap” edition of USA Today that 500 elicited the best audience reaction of the festival’s initial four days (which are more or less the only ones that matter). All I could do was add the movie to my Netflix queue as “saved,” figuring that if it wasn’t purchased by a studio and disappeared into the indie-film ether, I could at least catch up with it on DVD down the road.

Then it got picked up, and a summer release was announced, and the deluge began. I can’t remember an indie film that has generated so much buzz from such a disparate group of friends. There have been some that appealed to niche groups, but this is The One movie that is bringing us all together. Why? Dunno. On the surface it seems twee, and it’s a love story, and there’s one scene with animated birds. And sure, I don’t hang out with enough firefighters and construction workers and fellows who wouldn’t have a pink phone to comment on its dude’s-dude appeal. (What up, generalizing.)

Nevertheless, I keep hearing about it from people, and always with earnest enthusiasm. I had an opportunity to see it at a premier last week, but couldn’t bail from work by showtime. I caught up with some friends at the after-party, and the reviews were boffo. Very few people can find significant fault with this movie, and those that do are probably dicks. All of which is a long way of saying that my disappointment will be profound and enduring if I don’t dig it when I see it this weekend.