NW FILMMAKERS' FEST PLACES THE FOCUS ON REGIONAL MAKERS

As the 39th Northwest Filmmakers' Festival gets underway this evening at the NW Film Center, it's worth noting the marked difference between it and the MANY film fests hosted within the city limits each year (seriously, Portland, do ya like film much?).  Whereas POWFest, PIFF, QDoc, and all the other acronym heavy festivals populate their schedules with submissions around the globe, the NW Filmmakers' Fest places the emphasis on the makers, themes, and film community that's risen out of the NW region.

Call it a flavor, if you will, but one can't help but detect something different percolating below the surface of films made here in the Northwest.  Maybe it comes from being surrounded by more trees than buildings or perhaps it's the rain (or the coffee), but the political, social, and narrative concerns broached by so many of our region's filmmakers tend to shy away from the formulaic patterns thrown down by the big H-Wood (that's Hollywood, for those weary of made up slang).

Chel White's Bird of Flames

Given the small amount of time that I have to blog today, I'm just going to cut straight to the chase here.  I've only been able to view a small slice of the films screening at the fest, so there's bound to be gads of fine films programmed into the schedule that have yet to pass before my eyes.  With that in mind, I can definitely recommend a large handful of titles to catch over the next week and a half.

Lewis Bennett's The Sandwich Nazi

Let's start with the shorts:

Tonight's Shorts I presentation, which repeats again next Friday, contains several must-see short form works, including Lewis Bennett's The Sandwich Nazi, a beautiful and profane portrait of a deli shop proprietor with an endless series of outrageous stories to tell.  It's definitely not for the kiddies (unless your kids love hearing about some aging dude's sex life), but adults will be cackling throughout.  I'm also fond of Orland Nutt's bizarrely engaging Dear Peter, Wood Chips, an open letter to a friend that has the effect of transforming the mundane into something far more epic.  Nathaniel Akin's animated short A Tax on Bunny Rabbits, winner of the judge's award for best animated work at the fest, bounces around the screen for two minutes in a most pleasing and silly way.  I haven't seen Joanna Priestley's Dear Pluto yet, but I have viewed enough of her past work to know to seek out anything she makes.

Nathaniel Akin's A Tax on Bunny Rabbits

The compilation of works that make up the Shorts II program (scheduled for Sat. the 10th & Thurs. the 15th) includes the stunningly surreal Chrysta Bell music video Bird of Flames, directed by Chel White, likely the best (and weirdest) short at the fest that I've seen; of course, one would absolutely expect strange imagery matched to a song produced by and featuring David Lynch.  Also worth getting excited about: Kimberly Warner's CPR, which I raved about when it played POWFest earlier in the year, and Bahar Noorizadeh's Lingo.

Kimberly Warner's CPR

Shorts III has Tess Martin's beautifully animated piece The Whale Story, based on the Radiolab segment "Animal Minds."  I also really enjoyed Melissa Gregory Rue's Century Farm, Jarratt Taylor's The New Debutantes, and Rob Tyler's The Way We Melt (full disclosure: I'm friends with those last three filmmakers, but, y'know, if I didn't like the work, I would just neglect to mention it).  Shorts III plays on Sun. the 11th and Sat. the 17th.

Rob Tyler's The Way We Melt

As for the feature-length films on the schedule, the easy picks are Lynn Shelton's Your Sister's Sister and James Westby's Rid of Me, both of which received high profile releases and favorable press.  Just as worthy of recognition is Tom Olsen's The Crime of the D'autremont Brothers, a non-fiction piece exploring the forgotten history of a 1923 train robbery in Ashland, Oregon.  Matt McCormick's The Great Northwest returns to the Film Center for the fest (see my earlier review for it here).  And Jon Garcia's much talked about locally-produced film The Falls gets another local go-round.  I'm personally hoping to see Steve Doughton's Buoy over the next few days (it plays at the fest on Sat. the 17th), so keep an eye on the blog, since I expect to review it before the screening.

Tom Olsen's The Crime of the D'autremont Brothers

Anyone in the mood for some trailers?
Here, now, are the coming attractions (some of which I didn't mention, chiefly because I haven't seen the films):

Coast Modern Trailer from Coast Modern on Vimeo.

The Crime of The d'Autremont Brothers from Anchor Pictures on Vimeo.

The 39th Northwest Filmmakers' Festival begins on Friday, November 9th.  The festival website can be accessed here.

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THE GREAT NORTHWEST: A LONG JOURNEY, REPEATED

The past haunts and predetermines the path taken by Matt McCormick's latest film project, The Great Northwest, a nearly wordless, travelogue-based documentary that returns the director to his experimental roots, following the more narrative-based musings of his feature debut, Some Days Are Better Than Others.  McCormick traces a long journey taken by four women in the late 1950s; a recreational odyssey of the past unearthed by the filmmaker when he purchased a scrapbook filled with photos and various other ephemera from the trip.  Inspired by his find, he decided to repeat the voyage, traveling the same route and comparing the sights as they stood in 1958 with how they appear in the present day.

The women (Bev, Berta, Sissie and Clarice) were all nearing 40 when they headed out on the road, before the interstate highway system made such journeys as direct as they often are today.  But even before the lonely stretches of I-5 and its paved brethren came into being, theirs was a path that appears loosely planned, guided by whim and the spirit of spontaneity.  Sure, they (and McCormick) hit some pretty significant landmarks (Yellowstone National Park, Multnomah Falls, etc.) but the majority of the stops are at small, lesser known restaurants and attractions.

The Great Northwest rarely strays from the structure that McCormick lays out at the introduction of the film.  If the ladies visited a spot, he and his camera are headed there, too.  With a form some might unfairly dismiss as smacking of NPR-aesthetics, the piece easily could have descended into dry journalistic cliches but there's a winking humor and intelligence present throughout that prevents the piece from unraveling in familiar or expected ways.

Finer details of the journey, such as overheard bits of conversation as McCormick visits various locations, a long, slow drift through a cattle cluttered stretch of road, or, especially, the sole moment where the filmmaker steps out in front of his camera to be photographed atop an (once living?) animal, keep the film humming along at a rhythm all its own.  And, speaking of the person behind the camera, it certainly doesn't hurt that McCormick exhibits a great eye for capturing landscapes, either.

The Great Northwest (excerpt) from matt mccormick on Vimeo.

The Great Northwest screens  at the NW Film Center's Whitsell Auditorium (in the Portland Art Museum) on Wednesday, May 2nd and Thursday, May 3rd at 7pm.  Director Matt McCormick will be in attendance both nights.  More info about the screenings available here.

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