4-24-2008
I’m not sure if it’s because we’re on day seven of a ten-day festival
and people are just getting tired and cranky but, man, are some folks
getting a little asshatty. Rude. Obnoxious. There have been a few
random moments of self-indulgent, rather discourteous behavior – like
the guy sitting one seat over who refused to turn off his cell phone
and thus had its tiny, b*r*i*g*h*t glowing blue screen shining like a
beacon in the dark while he text messaged – but in the past couple of
days this sort of thing seems to have multiplied. And it’s almost
always at the Cumberland!
The other day, two rather burly men wanted to get into the row I was
in. I was sitting at the end of the row and, because my brain is now
wired to shoot me out of my seat to let people pass the instant it
seems like someone wants in, I immediately got up and let them pass. A
few seats over sat an older fellow who wasn’t quite as speedy. Rather
than wait for him to move his feet or get up (for those unfamiliar with
the Cumberland, there’s zero leg room and no way for someone to pass
without seat occupants standing), the first of the two burly guys just
shoved right through, literally climbing over the seated man and
banging his knees in the process. The seated man was noticably peeved
and told the “climber” to just hang on for a second, but no. Climber
kept climbing. Seated man was very angry. Second burly guy, thank
goodness, waited for room before he moved. “Your friend is a jerk!”
said seated man as burly guy #2 passed.
Then today, there was a huge asshat of an older woman – with a loud,
nasal voice and a serious case of entitlement. There are a pair of
seats in the Cumberland’s HotDocs theatre that are reserved for people
with mobility issues and their companions. They’re great seats, but the
point is that they’re positioned so that someone with mobility issues
has room for his/her wheelchair or crutches or what have you...and can
still sit beside his/her friends. I got to the theatre fairly early for
the screening, so it was almost empty. I noticed a man sitting in one
of these special seats and, next to him on the floor (and in front of
the second seat), lay his adorable golden-retriever service dog.
Sleeping. The man had a hearing aid and the dog had one of those
seeing-eye-dog harnesses, so it was clearly not his “pet.” (If it was,
they wouldn’t have let it inside in the first place.) I sat down in the
row in front of him.
So, the theatre starts to fill up. A lot. Seats are at a premium. All
of a sudden, the loud, nasal voice of the asshat woman pierces through
the din, annoyed.
“Is your dog gonna sit there?”
No reply.
More annoyed, “EXCUUUUSE ME? Is your dog gonna take up this seat or can
you move it??”
At this point I turned around to see who was being such an asshat. The
woman began making her way into the seat, not waiting for a reply and
not waiting for the dog to move. The man, who was clearly
willing to accommodate her if she had just waited a second or two,
began to pull his canine companion out of her way. As he did so, and
much to my delight, he said “PLEASE?” as a way of reminding her that
perhaps a tiny bit of manners might be in order. She didn’t get it. She
sat down with a big sigh and a harumph as if this was the most she’d
ever been inconvenienced at a movie EVER.
Then, less than a minute later, she stood up, walked away and grumbled,
“Your dog can have the seat because I can’t see from here.” (Or
something to that effect, I can’t remember her exact words.) WTF? How
clueless ARE some people??? Asshat.
Anyway, the film – my only screening for today – was The
Art Star and the Sudanese Twins (6/8), a portrait of Italian
installation artist Vanessa Beecroft and her involvement with a small
Sudanese community as she attempts to adopt twin babies after bonding
with them during a visit. But what starts as a seemingly altruistic
gesture slowly morphs into a strangely ill-advised mission whereby
Beecroft, who’s at times infuriatingly single-minded to those around
her, forges ahead despite an array of red flags and obstacles and the
fact that the two babies she wishes to “save” actually have a father
and extended family in their village. Director Pietra Brettkelly said
her initial intent was to make a documentary about the business (i.e.,
$$$) of international adoptions but that this profile of a fiercely,
perhaps foolishly, determined artist emerged in the process.
Apparently, Beecroft (who’s portrayed as a control freak) isn’t
entirely thrilled with the finished product, but respects Brettkelly
enough to understand that it’s her film... which was labeled
“controversial” by the programmer giving the intro, but which didn’t
feel as provocative as I thought it would be.
