CALGARY INTERNATIONAL FILM FESTIVAL

I volunteered for the Calgary International Film Festival on Monday. Or rather, my mother volunteered me because she coordinates volunteers and was short a body or two.

And I was happy to do it! Working in the community, seeing the alternative to Hollywood films (which are generally more interesting and more educational, if not more impressive in budget and effects.)

But man, the community is WEIRD. And when I say weird, I don't mean as in slightly odd, I mean it as in What Sideshow Freak HELL did you people come from?

The Plaza theatre, where I did my volunteering, is a local repertory theatre and has been in business for years. And every time I've been there, yes, there has always been a cross-section of the well-to-do, artistic community, the subculture and slacker representatives, and the curious folk who got dragged there by friends because they've never seen a foreign film before.

Well, let me tell you, they crawl out of the woodwork during the Festival.

I was working the door, taking tickets and making sure people were in the right lines and whatnot, so I got a good long look at the type of people that were coming to the movie house.

Let me say I believe the crowd for each movie was different; I got to see two of them and the demographics were vastly varied. But the movie I'm talking about for this example was Breakfast With Hunter, a biography/documentary of counterculture author Hunter S. Thompson.

Holy CRAP. The man must be a FREAK MAGNET.

I experienced my own version of Fear and Loathing as I watched the dead-eyed, slack-jawed wasteoids filter scummily into the theatre; those over 40 with vacant, harried expressions like hermits who had come in from the desert (this one, with a small carry-on bit of luggage on wheels, dragging it behind him by its handle; and that one, creaking his ancient wooden kindling-legs in his black spandex as he wore his bicycle helmet into the theatre, his waist-long beard and round Lennon glasses bespeaking a time when the voices in his head had only BEGUN their incessant ranting).

Good GOD, I thought, what the hell kind of movie must this be?

Perhaps the thing that angered me most was the newbies. The young counterculture virgins, all tarted up in their Goth or 70's retro Slack Gear, bought new at Old Navy, pierced to the gills and as clueless as an American at a political rally. I simply couldn't get over the feeling I had that they had come, not to hear about this modern classic author's life, but to say they had attended the Hunter S. Thompson movie and he was that guy that did that Johnny Depp movie, y'know, Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas and weren't they just so cool?

I felt old and resentful. I knew Hunter S. Thompson's name but next to nothing about the man himself. But I watched the movie prepared to HEAR and LISTEN. And yet I felt that two-thirds of the audience were only there to say they were.

And WOW. I can't even describe the vibes that came off the attendees as a whole. It can probably best be summed up as a tenuous hold on reality vibe. I mean, where are these people the OTHER 364 days of the year?

It was probably just the high concentration of them all in one place that seemed so surreal, so un-Calgarylike. Or maybe, just maybe, I'm not exposing myself to anything resembling the alternative scene.

To illustrate, I saw Hunter S. Thompson as a fascinating man. But I knew I would be uncomfortable meeting him, and wouldn't actually want to hang AROUND with him, insightful and counter-culture-y as he was. I know I want to read his books, now, but I don't think I'm really interested in getting to know him as a person, or emulating his life in any way.

I was uncomfortable but interested on Monday. I didn't feel like this was a group of people to which I wanted to belong. But the film that drew us together was a film I personally enjoyed and felt inspired to learn more about. And although I hope never to run into any of the Sideshow attendees again, it was neat to be there.

Would I volunteer again? Sure. The way my mom runs things, I at least know there's SOMETHING that's going to be well-organized. And as uncomfortable as I was, at least I was trying something different. Meeting people I might otherwise not have met; all Sideshow Circus references aside, I did get to meet the director of the aforementioned film and speak to him about his experiences-- which was a study in fascination in and of itself.

So, in the final analysis, what did I come away with?

Upon due reflection, I choose to sum up my experience like this: "The Calgary International Film Festival. Come on out and SEE. Then go home and THINK."

Posted by Agent M at October 01, 2003 01:33 PM