on display

previously published by me elsewhere:

Closure.

It's one of the pursuits in life that I feel I have sought the most, but have often found the least. To me life comes with so many starts and stops that only movies really flow in a neatly packaged three-act structure.

When things come to some point of fruition your psyche reacts to everything in a new way. All of a sudden you find yourself mentally erasing portions of the old slate, leaving yourself space to deal with a whole new mess from an improved perspective. Such is the process of littering the world with one's old baggage.

The world premiere, as they say, of the (AKA) 'indie flick with the longest fuckin' production I know of' went down last night at our local art house theater. There were two screenings (one at 7pm and one at 9pm). I attended the first one, and was reasonably surprised by the packed house, having torn tickets at the door when more major fare didn't fill but fifteen seats during an equivalent evening.

Unlike your average local movie showing, not everyone there was associated with the project, nor do I suspect they were several degrees out from the people involved. For that reason I can reasonably call it a success!

The production itself was a miniscule affair with a cast of seven and a crew of three, and the well-noted meandering production schedule. Looking back, the production was a constant state of someone gripping someone else's throat, at least on the level of subtext.

It seemed that someone was dealing with displeasure the whole time, which really dampened any opportunity to really enjoy the experience. Shouldn't the independent film world act differently than the Hollywood sorts? Isn't it supposed to be about connecting with people on a human level, instead of dealing with people like pieces of equipment?

Between Monday night's screenings several of us shared a champagne toast at the theater's bar, as provided by one of the actors. The toasters were an incomplete grouping of those involved, and the overall connections between us all remains under-developed. I did feel a spark of what could have been, though. And it made me hopeful.