Wednesday, October 24, 2007
Kids First! TiVo Offer!
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Hey, check out this offer from Kids First!, which recently joined our website to offer information on age-appropriate DVDs (and if you haven't done so already, check out the Kids First! reviews).
Get a TiVo 80 Hour Series2 Dual Tuner FREE! This offer, hosted by TiVo and KIDS FIRST! is good through December 6, 2007 with the purchase of any TiVo service plan. Hey, you have been thinking about getting a TiVo, so why not for FREE? Once you get your TiVo, set up the Tivo KidZone which provides advice from KIDS FIRST! on children’s programming and allows you to pre-approve the shows your kids actually see. With TiVo KidZone, you’ll feel safer knowing your child is only watching programs that reflect your family's values.
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Monday, October 22, 2007
From the Heartland
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(Heartland Film Festival 2007)
Craving films that make your eyes well up (from laughter or sentimentality)? That nurture your belief that there is goodness in people? Want to sit through an entire feature without worrying you won’t close your eyes fast enough when the slasher crashes through a window? There are still a few days left of this year’s Heartland Film Festival, presented by Heartland Truly Moving Pictures (no relation – as they say – to our magazine).
The films I saw (Lars and the Real Girl, Man in the Chair, Owl and the Sparrow, A Plumm Summer, August Rush and some delectable shorts which will be reviewed on this website over the next few days) lost no impact by taking this approach. A-Class cinematography and dialogue moved the story lines along, and the theatres rocked with laughter and, at other times, grown men were seen wiping tears from their eyes. But seeing the regard the filmmakers had for each other – caught in groups, talking, in the theater lobby – was definitely part of the fun of attending the festival. Watch for articles from more of these filmmakers on this website.
RaeAnne Marsh, Online Editor
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Tuesday, August 21, 2007
ALI NADERZAD ON FILM
Posters, banners and ads everywhere beckon: the 11th
hour is here. The documentary on the state of our planet has finally
gotten its wide release after screenings took place in Cannes this past
May. But can Leonardo DiCaprio, who co-directed 11th hour with Leila
Conners-Petersen and Nadia Conners, be trusted to be a genuine
spokesperson of the green movement? I say yes, yes and yes. I heard him
speak at the press conference at the Cannes Festival, DiCaprio held his
own like a prince even as some hostile journalist from the UK took a
swing "Congratulations for completing this important project, but how
did you get here, by private jet?" DiCaprio maintained his cool, barely
scoffing at the implication ("yea, right, I took the train here, from
the U.S," which drew laughs from the audience) to later come back to
the vindictive reporter, holding forth on the need to not judge or
censure so freely.
To paraphrase DiCaprio further, everyone is
responsible for contributing to this cause in whichever way they can,
and noone is perfect. Judging by the booing and jeering directed at the
lone gunner, DiCaprio had the last word. And, finally, about the film
itself. It seems that the debate begun by the 11th hour might supersede
the film, which is perhaps as gratifying, though likely not to the
directors. Among other docs of the same ilk, 11th hour hardly
captivates, unfortunately. The parading nature images are reminiscent
of a Discovery Channel special and the testimonials hardly convey
urgency. Of some interest are the testimony-givers, however. Mikhail
Gorbachev and Stephen Hawking, among others, agreed to weigh in on the
environmental issues at stake here: species extinction, global warming,
and the responsibilities behooving governments. © 2007 Ali Naderzad
http://www.alinaderzad.blogspot.com/
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Monday, June 11, 2007
Experience of Cannes ... by Varda Hardy
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May 14
I’m sitting in an auditorium at the International College in Cannes at a film industry panel sponsored by the American Pavilion (AMPAV is a tent at Cannes that provides Internet connection, meals, industry panels and lounging areas for members). I have come here through an invitation from Moving Pictures Magazine in recognition of my short film The One Thousand Sides of the Moon, which was a runner-up in the magazine’s 2006 fall short film contest. (My short film Window also had the good fortune to receive the Audience Choice Award in the magazine’s spring 2007 contest, qualifying it for a screening at Cannes.)
I am here via a Student Filmmaker Program sponsored by the American Pavilion; however, I am not a student but a fairly seasoned filmmaker — so I realize that I cannot depend on this program to define my experience here at the Festival. Rather, I must be the one to define my own experience. I have come here to further the development of my feature project A Thousand Freeways, and I plan on maintaining a clear intention to connect with people who might be able to join me in bringing A Thousand Freeways to the big screen.
May 15
The Gauntlet
During my time here at Cannes, I will be working part-time with Moving Pictures Magazine and Moving Pictures Distribution. Today, my first day at the festival, I assisted VP of Distribution Ted Chalmers, who is manning the MPM Distribution booth in the Cannes Marche (Market). As I approached the booth, Ted held up a small object — a teeny-weeny object really. On close examination, I discovered it to be a fuse. Ted explained that a monitor had blown a fuse — this fuse — and it needed to be replaced. He asked me to go into town and find a replacement.
Now, this is my first time at Cannes and I had not yet ventured outside the parameters of the festival (that is, in itself, quite daunting). I had no map of Cannes and I do not speak French. This was a “find a needle in a haystack” type challenge and I accepted it as though it were a tiny gauntlet tossed casually at my feet. The challenge, as I saw it, was: find a replacement for this fuse, and my experience at the festival would be fruitful.
I ventured into the unknown. I held up the tiny glass canister to one puzzled face after another. Store clerks crinkled their brows and shrugged. Some of them would point to the street uttering “à droit” and “à gauche” (one means “left” the other “right”— I don’t know which is which). I would intuit their directions and venture here and there. I held up the fuse to the many of the policemen securing the streets. Most of them have been shipped in for the Cannes Extravaganza and couldn’t help me at all. I went into one shop after another, climbed this hill and that. It was hot and I was sweating. I listened to one set of directions after another, all spoken in impenetrable French.
Eventually, I found myself on the other side of the train tracks far removed from Cannes’ buzz. I stumbled down a narrow cobblestone road, entered a shop packed with brooms, pipes and sundry building supplies. I approached the cashier, the tiny glass canister gripped between finger and thumb. I hit the jackpot. The cashier pointed to the back of the store. I smiled gratefully. With that small gesture, she had sealed my fate. I knew I would have a successful adventure at Cannes.
May 20
Falling Asleep at the Wheel
Last night, I hit bottom. I came here with a mission to further the development of my feature film A Thousand Freeways, but I didn’t feel I have been very effective in navigating the sprawling amorphous chaos called the Cannes Film Festival. There is no doubt, this is an “extreme sport” requiring intense focus, intention and stamina — can I rise to its demand? My memory had lapsed in all the chaos and confusion. I had forgotten why I was here. When the Marche closed, I wandered the streets questioning my own mind. I was lost.
Eventually, I found myself in the lobby of the hotel where I am staying, sitting next to a young Moroccan man watching a “Nine Inch Nails” concert on his laptop. The man had a disarming smile. He had nothing to do with the festival — I liked that. I found him reassuring. There is life outside the Cannes Film Festival. Turns out he had been hired as a guard for the night. He spoke perfect English. I brought down two Espresso cups filled with red wine. We spoke until three in the morning. I didn’t want to leave. I was a bit crazed. I think I frightened him a bit. And I scared myself into a breakthrough. My memory came back. I remembered why I was there. The rest of my stay would overflow with possibility. I would make sure of that!
Today my short film Window screened to a full theatre. It was very well received and in great company. All the MPM Spring Contest Winners were worthy of this coveted prize. I feel quite fortunate to be included!
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Monday, June 04, 2007
Cuba Enscripted…Or Not
By Vivien Lesnik Weisman
One of the contributors in my documentary film, "The Man of Two Havanas," quotes Einstein as saying: “Insanity is defined as doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results.” This maxim would certainly describe our government’s 47-year-old dysfunctional policy towards Cuba.
As Americans, we really don’t know very much about Cuba or why exactly we are not allowed to visit the island. We do know that there is a bearded boogieman named Castro who runs the place, but not much more. That’s okay, because Cuba doesn’t really affect us. And with intermittent wars, genocide, stolen elections, poverty, AIDS, Lindsay Lohan and Brad and Angelina, well, who has time to bone up on Cuba?
But for me, a Cuban-American and the daughter of a man obsessed with the singular idea of reuniting the two Havanas, the time had come to try and understand the complex history of Cuba and the United States. But I get ahead of myself. Why a movie? Why not an essay, a magazine article or even a book? Well, simply, I am trained to tell stories with pictures. And it’s quite a story. And if you’re reading this article, you too, are trained formally or otherwise, in the craft of speaking through pictures.
But wait just a minute. My film idols were never the Maysles brothers, but rather Antonioni and Bunuel. Their films could not be further from the documentary form. Antonioni, with his cinematic or aesthetic climax, rarely coinciding with the dramatic one; and Bunuel... well, the Bunuel I love is poetry in motion, not at all suited for documentary treatment.
So what is a filmmaker trained at UCLA by Polish genius Jerzy Antczak in the art of the moving master doing with a camera glued to a tripod in a living room in Miami interviewing her dad?
Well, I’m doing the best I can.
My idea was this: Let my father tell his story and see what happens. Not much of a plan. No storyboards, no shot list, no script. Jesus, no script!! What the hell am I doing? When is the director showing up? So this is documentary filmmaking?
After hours and hours of torturing my dad in our living room in Miami and following him around the two Havanas, I had 160 hours of footage and a Final Cut Pro that kept crashing and deleting. But I also had a secret weapon: a wonderful editor, Tirsa Hackshaw.
As my eyes glazed over watching the endless parade of pictures, I had an aha! moment. We need a story to tell this story. We need structure. Oh right, we need a script. Hmm…interesting.
But even with all of that, there was still something missing: the hand, the eye to guide the story along. The missing element was me. I was missing. The time had come to make this massive blob my own, to use all of my skills as well as Antonioni’s and Bunuel’s and the Maysles brothers’ and Warhol’s and any other artist I had devoured, dissected and internalized. To take risks and try new things, to discard and reshape. The director, working in a great partnership with the editor and a script, and viola, it’s a movie!
Well, not exactly. Many cuts later — 36 cuts — even more sleepless nights and one and a half years, my movie began to take shape. And finally, it is complete and ready for its world premiere, not sheltered by the mountains of Utah, but at the Tribeca Film Festival in front of the most film-savvy, Film Forum-attending, sophisticated and critical audiences in America.
And there’s even a moving master, courtesy of archival footage from I am Cuba (Soy Cuba, 1964). And because this is MovingPicturesMagazine.com, I know I don’t need to explain the reference.
Wish me luck!
Born in Havana, Cuba, filmmaker Vivien Lesnik Weisman experienced a childhood marred by bombings and death threats on her father, Max Lesnik, a former friend of Fidel Castro. In "The Man of Two Havanas," she explores her father’s involvement in the Revolution, his exile to Little Havana, Miami, and his eventual return to Cuba to help end the embargo. Using top-secret audiotapes, she also delves into the fascinating history of Cuban-American relations.
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