9-7-2002: DAY TWO (Pt. 1)

Before I begin, I'd like to take this opportunity to add a crucial DON'T to my list of unwritten film fest laws: please, PLEASE don't smoke in line. I know you're a smoker and we're outside and you feel the need to light up because we'll all be standing where we are for a while, but WHEN we're that close together, couldn't you maybe step away a bit? Or blow the smoke away from me? Or NOT SMOKE AT ALL? *cough* Thanks. (Although, as an aside, I've noticed that most films I've seen so far have at least one, if not all, of the characters puffing away on cigarettes and cigars, so maybe it's some kind of bizarre psychological side effect on the audiences.)

Moving on...

I woke up with a POUNDING headache this morning, so the start of the day wasn't particularly delightful...until, of course, the movies started.

The first screening of the day was White Oleander, the big-screen adaptation of the Oprah Book Club bestseller. The world premiere of the film was last night, and both Michelle Pfeiffer and Robin Wright Penn attended, but the showing this morning was the repeat screening, so only the director made an appearance. The movie was extremely well-acted - Michelle Pfeiffer ROCKED and was stunningly beautiful onscreen (which, I know, is a given... but she really looked luminous, especially given the fact that she spends much of the film in prison garb). Robin Wright Penn was hilarious as a camped-up, chain-smoking Bible thumper, and Renée Zellweger was really strong. Alison Lohman, the relative unknown in the lead role of Astrid, was wonderful. I haven't read the book, so I can't rate its adherence to the novel. But I really liked it, even though it was kind of sad and a bit of a downer.

Then it was a quick trip home for some extra-strength pain relief (ahhhh) to dull my head pain before heading to Happy Here and Now. 'Twas a weirdly freaky, trippy, mildly David Lynch-ian film about - among other things - a young woman (Liane Balaban, who could be the missing genetic link between Natalie Portman and Piper Perabo) in search of answers after her sister (Shalom Harlow) disappears in New Orleans. The supporting cast included Ally Sheedy and David Arquette and, once again, it was through the post-screening Q&A that I managed to get a better sense of what exactly it was I just sat through. I've never been a fan of experimental cinema, so I wasn't really clear on numerous points the film raised. But director Michael Almereyda explained it wasn't the kind of movie that can be easily summarized or, I suppose, understood. Which could be his sneaky way of avoiding having to assign meaning to what he wrote and directed, but it was enough to make me feel a little better about not quite getting it.

Another quick visit home to have something to eat and watch one of the many televised press conferences on Rogers Cable 10 (a Toronto community channel). If any film fest staffers are reading this now, I must ask you: who the HELL is this irritating new moderator and what in heaven's name happened to John Greyson, the wonderful, knowledgable and buttery-voiced moderator who held the job for the past several years?!?!?! I watched the press conference for Frida, and he even seem to piss off Salma Hayek (OMG, she looked like she might smack him!). He rudely snapped at photographers and seemed like he was in a really bad mood. Mind you, they all did. Salma and director Julie Taymor appeared to be on the defensive, for some reason. But the moderator: I don't like him. At all. Where's John??? Wait. Another one's starting. For Love Liza. And who's THIS moderator? Not John Greyson and not the annoying guy! What's going ON?!

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