Recent Party News

Well, been tied up with other writing work, so I’ll put some party news here and hopefully get to writing about films tomorrow…

Took a break 6/1 to check out two gallery exhibs, but still had some SIFF encounters. The first show was at the Gibson Guitar gallery, where there were some rock posters, plus free beer and wine. I’d been to another event at the same place a month ago, though there were more people I knew then. Who should I run into this time but a couple of SIFF publicists. I asked if they had any good gossip. Sadly, no. What’s the good of knowing the publicists if you can’t get gossip, I ask you. I asked if there were any guests that had got embarrassingly drunk. “Only me!” one told me.

Then I went back to the Hill to see another exhib. Outside the Egypto, I found SIFF Managing Director Deb Person and Artistic Director Carl Spence and Programming Manager Beth Barrett and Programming Consultant (and ex-Festival Director) Helen Loveridge all hanging out in front. Almost enough for a staff meeting. Apparently a projector had broken, and, as if all operating on the same wavelength, they were drawn to the scene. After chatting, I grabbed a coffee at the BWay Performance Hall across the street, then went to my other gallery event, running into Irene from Christian Science Monitor, on her way to a 9:30 screening at Pac Place.

On June 2, I finally headed out for a bonafide SIFF party, after seeing the Matthew Lillard films at the Neptune. This was a late-night one, starting at 11 pm, at NW Film Forum. I got there around 11:30, and most of the food was gone, looked like they had shrimp, and veggies, there was some hummus left. And plenty of alcohol, beer and champagne! So I helped myself to that. To tie in with NWFF’s screening of The T.A.M.I. Show, there were go-go dancers in attendance, dressed in white, frugging away atop wooden boxes. And people had had enough to drink that they were actually dancing. Talked to Susie Purves from NWFF, we go way back. Talked to film publicist Ginger (also a former SIFF publicist), we were once Desperate Housewives fans together (she now prefers Gray’s Anatomy). Talked to Christine or Christina (forget which), who I still recall from the wacky adaptation of Macbeth (by Shakespeare) presented at Re-bar in 1994. She said she was in another show currently, but who has time to see during SIFF?

The next night I was fortunate enough to get to that night’s Gala, at Pravda on Cap Hill. The invite said 9 pm, but folks must’ve arrived earlier, as when I arrived, there was scarcely any food left, just chocolates and bowls of ice cream. So I contented myself with Bombay Sapphire Gin & Tonics. The bartender made them very well, and it was her first time, apparently. I sent people to her specifically!

Tons of people, it was very fun. A keyboardist and sax provided music, but not too loud. And it was just a huge loft-type room, so there was lots of space. Saw my old book editor Anne Mathews, and my transcriptionist (and current SIFF box office staffer) Nick Tamburro, so I yakked with them for a while. Talked to two directors, David Scheinmann (of The West Wittering Affair) and I unfortunately don’t recall the other one, he was from Montreal. It’s easy to meet such folks, you simply look at their passes; theirs said “Guest,” so you then ask what film they’re with. And they’re always happy to talk about them. I hadn’t seen their films, but they talked about SIFF. They were quite enjoying themselves, and really liked the Egypto; apparently all they have in Montreal all now are multi-plexes.

Lots of passholders of course. Passholder Poppe was raving about the Lincoln Square cinemas, with their comfortable seats and good sightlines. Ended up in a group with passholders Ray and Dwight, plus SIFFers Eric and Greg, discussing This Film Has Not Been Rated, leading into a talk on explicitness in film and ratings in general. I said how until the mid-‘60s you couldn’t even really talk about sex openly, you had to imply, infer, talk around it, and I actually found that more exciting. I pointed to The Night of the Iguana as an example, and Ray agreed it was quite the erotic classic! A couple of the guys were heading off to that night’s midnighter, the NC-17 Destricted, a collection of shorts. I heard of a couple walkouts later; one person during the first one, something to do with the male sex organ and a clay pot. Another found the “stroboscopic fury” of another film too hard on the eyes. Talked more politics. Then people began drifting away. Instead of looking for some kind of after party, I did the sensible thing and went home, thus avoiding a hangover.