Final Thoughts on True/False 10

I was more prepared for the rhythms of True/False in my second year, but no less impressed by event and its films.

I enjoyed every film I saw, which makes it harder to distinguish between them.  Restrepo has stayed with me the most, but given its life-and-death nature, perhaps that's to be expected.  But I largely devoted my time to my favorite kind of doc - focused on a single, eccentric personality.

Smash His Camera and The Invention of Dr. Nakamats both fit well into this niche,  and took distinctly different approaches.  Smash His Camera broadens its perspective on Paparazzo Ron Galella to include wildly differing critical views of him and his work.  Nakamats never steps back from the portrait the subject paints of himself.  It creates a more unified POV, but made me long for the context of Smash His Camera.

One of the richest experiences when attending a festival is drawing connections between the films - something you simply can't or wouldn't do when watching them separately.  My buddy Travis pointed out as we left Waking Sleeping Beauty that the events it chronicles ended 14 years ago, exactly as had the life of the comedian we saw documented in one of the Secret Screenings the night before.  Is 14 years some kind of magical gestation age for a certain historical perspective?  Maybe, but I never would have wondered if I hadn't seen the two films within hours of each other.

If there was one disappointment from the films I saw, it was that they didn't open up to me more.  The experience I most enjoy when watching a doc is that moment the film goes beyond that quirky hook of its subject and becomes "about" something different.  Smash His Camera had moments of this - questions of the nature of art and celebrity.  Probably more than any other film I saw, Restrepo left much to be discovered between the images and the rationalizations of the soldiers involved.

One day after leaving the festival, I wonder about the films I didn't see.  Two of this year's Best Picture nominees screened at last year's fest - but I only saw one of them.  Critic Karina Longworth Tweeted several films she was impressed with last night.  I had seen none of them.

It's a credit to the festival that it can't be fully digested, even spread over four days.  I spoke to filmmakers and attendees alike whose reaction was the same as mine last year - "how did I not know about this?"

Friday Night at True/False

Last night kicked off the 10th True/False Film Festival (at least for us).  It's my second year at what I'm already planning to make an annual event.

After gathering our passes and applying some social lubricant, we got into the packed Missouri Theater to see Smash His Camera - a doc which premiered at Sundance and was just picked up by HBO this week for distribution.

The film documents the life's work of Ron Galella, a lifelong paparazzo who was sued by Jackie O. and punched in the face by Marlon Brando.  Galella and a cadre of supporters and detractors narrate the story, from his first work in the late '60s up to today.

Director Leon Gast also directed the stellar When We Were Kings.  While Galella doesn't have the charisma of a figure like Ali (and then again who does?), both films focus on a singular personality whose actions ultimately, and perhaps surprisingly, resonate into the culture at large.

Beyond just the character story of the eccentric photographer, the film raises interesting questions about what constitutes art - particularly in photography.  Galella's work has recently been exhibited at museums, and it's hard to argue that he hasn't taken some beautiful photographs.  His shots are snapshots, often with a prominent flash bulb glare, but the candid, vulnerable moments he captures can be fascinating.  His critics argue that anyone who takes that many shots is bound to wind up with a few good shots, and also point out that it's always the subject that makes the photo interesting.

Galella comes across warmly, though seeing he has applied his techniques to subjects including children can be stomach-churning.  I was particularly struck by his string of photos of Angelina Jolie, going back to when she appeared to be only eight or nine years old.  He argues in several archival interviews that his intention is to show celebrities at their most human.

That argument felt rather thin to me, but there is a fascinating moment late in the film when a young girl, probably in her teens, wanders through an exhibition of Galella's work.  She tries to identify the subjects of the photos - the likes of Onasis, Steve McQueen, Bridget Bardot, etc.  She recognizes almost none of them.  It's subtle but striking evidence of the fleeting nature of fame, and perhaps lends credence to Galella's claim that in the end, he's just capturing images of humanity.

After Smash His Camera, we caught and enjoyed the Secret Screening Black.  But by the request of the programmers, I'll leave my thoughts on that a secret.