Critical Mass

One of the strangest experiences you can have as a journalist is watching a movie with a theater full of critics. People take notes. They leave half-way through. They even start writing reviews as they’re watching. Kinda hard to experience movie magic when you’re checking your Blackberry.

To be fair, schedules and deadlines are crazy - which is usually why journalists leave early. They have an interview to run to or they need to have to post the review in a few hours. But I’ve also heard critics sit down for a film already grumbling. No wonder so many movies get trashed when journalists know what they think before they’ve seen a single frame.

In this world of information-inundation, it’s hard not to form opinions before seeing the flick. I’ve watched so many films I can usually tell a movie’s weaknesses from a thirty second trailer. There’s definitely satisfaction in seeing your instinct proved true. But more often than not, I feel like I snuck a peek at the presents before Christmas morning.

One of the hardest things to hold on to when you’ve been in the biz a long time is your innocence. That wide-eyed love of movies. After watching a film with fellow critics, I love seeing the same film with a non-industry audience. Allow me to draw a picture…

The critics: quiet, distracted, straight-faced, analytical.
The moviegoers: laughing, crying, cheering, elbowing each other.

It always reminds me why I chose this business. A pure love of story and movies. And in movies, like life, there’s a maturing that happens the longer you’ve been at it. The older you get, the more consciously you have to work at being wide-eyed. But it’s that innocence and joy that creates true magic.

Besides, I figure if you’ve become bitter and jaded about anything, it’s time to move on. Life is just too precious.

Ideal Interviews

I’ve been thinking a lot about my ideal interview. Between crazed schedules and parasitic tabloids, getting serious time with actors and directors can be a challenge. And when they do sit down with you, they are, understandably, cautious.

I may be one of the few people on the planet who would rather not hear about an actor’s personal life. We’re paying them to create an illusion. Why ruin that? Who they’re dating tells me absolutely nothing about what they had to go through to create a character. In fact, it usually distracts me from an otherwise enthralling journey – both as a moviegoer and as a writer.

This strange appetite for personal information has made creating a rapport with an actor a significant part of my job. If either of us comes to the table bitchy or tired or unwilling, it’s game over. And film festivals tend to increase the odds of being in a less-than-friendly state.

It’s amazing, when I look back, that two of my all-time favorite interviews - Joseph Fiennes and Kevin Bacon - were at film festivals. Before you accuse me of selecting crazy-handsome guys as my favs, let me tell you I’ve interviewed my fair share of good-looking assholes.

These two win the prize because they exuded passion and personality. Neither was cautious. Both expressed clear and brave opinions. Fiennes was excited to talk about how the part had shaped him as well as how he shaped the part. Bacon brought humor and perspective to the insanity of the film business. His eyes sparkling with amusement when anyone seemed to take it all too seriously.

Both actors were willing to reveal what I think is far more interesting than tidbits about their personal lives: a genuine opinion on the state of humanity. Actors spend their careers embodying the human journey. They plunge into places most of us won’t even broach in our real lives. Imagine what our industry could offer the world if we focused on celebrating those talents.

Let’s Get This Party Started

I’m sure there are young lasses who dream of being the next Diane Sawyer or Carl Bernstein. Sniffing out facts and breaking stories to land their names in the history books. But that wasn’t me. Nope. I was enamored by fiction. And, by God, that’s where my talents would stay.

Until… I experienced the cold, hard reality of the film biz. Really, it’s like any other business – you have to work your way up before people listen to what you say. That makes sense. But as we all know, the dream looms bigger and has a better marketing budget than reality.

So when a brilliant friend, who shall remain nameless (until I get his waiver), suggested I write for film magazines, I thought, “How clever! Write about film and get my name in lights. Instant credibility!” Little did I suspect that non-fiction would grab hold of my psyche and draw me in with the tantalizing appeal of opinions, style, and quick deadlines.

I was pretty content getting my name in print. While I was basking in the glow of reader feedback, my nameless friend saw a cliff I was avoiding – the film festival press junket – and decided it was time for another heave-ho. Luckily, I’m quick with the ’chute cord.

Most folks work their way up doing small festivals first. Not me. I hurled myself into the Toronto International Film Festival. Deep end, head first. Scrambling to learn the ropes while everyone else was on high-adrenalin and had little time for newbies. The rush was incredible. Hell, that’s one of the things I love most about this biz.

Working the film festival press junket is one of the strangest, yet most fulfilling, experiences I’ve ever had. Binging on films. Dancing with publicists. Asking questions in front of A-list stars and all the cameras. All while juggling deadlines, parties, and occasionally, dinner. I’d pretty much liken it to riding a roller coaster after chugging fifteen espressos.

I was, however, unprepared for the biggest lesson of the junket: that promoting your project is just as important as making it. Sacrilege! Creative traitor! But it’s the cold, hard truth. And it’s not something you leave (only) to the publicists. Speaking as someone who plays on the other side of the promotion-fence, it’s a vital skill for all creative artists.

My mission, should you choose to come along, is to share stories from the press trenches… to bridge the gap between creator and promoter. And, ultimately, unite us with the goal of sending audience-worthy movies into the world.