Friday, 9 April 2010

ALL ABOUT EVIL—The Evening Class Interview With Joshua Grannell

No one wields a butcher knife like Peaches Christ. She makes it seem like a necessary fashion accessory and—well, let's face it—isn't it these days? "Gore Couture" is sure to be on the rise this Summer as Joshua Grannell's debut feature All About Evil launches its national event-tour with a star-studded "spooktacular" before its world premiere at the historic Castro Theater, as part of the 53rd edition of the San Francisco International Film Festival (SFIFF53). Next stop: the Alamo Drafthouse in Austin, Texas.

Before retiring after decades of service as the chief editor of
Fangoria magazine, Tony Timpone contacted me and asked if I wouldn't cover the production of All About Evil? Knowing that it has been a lifelong dream of Joshua Grannell's to be featured in Fangoria, how could I resist? Why would I want to? The past year has been rich with set visits and a volley of research interviews for the Fangoria assignment (which will be featured in their June issue). Until then—and in celebration of the film's world premiere at SFIFF53—I hope you will enjoy the original conversations as much as I have. First up: Joshua Grannell. This transcript is cobbled together from many conversations with Joshua, his introductory address to the Cast & Crew screening of All About Evil, and his recent San Francisco Film Society Film Forum panel on making horror films in San Francisco, moderated by SFFS programmer Rod Armstrong. [This conversation is not for the spoiler-wary!!]

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Michael Guillén: Joshua, we've spoken before about how Peaches Christ is a collaborative performance project with many other people beside yourself or—as you told Sean Abley in the first installment of your interview with him—"In some cases, it takes a village to raise a drag queen." What was it like for you to take that collaborative spirit one step further to work as a producer-director with a professional crew?

Joshua Grannell: Though, yes, Midnight Mass has always been collaborative, I've always been the leader. It's been my vision for a pre-show or a marketing campaign or a performance so—to some degree—I was more comfortable than I even knew I would be working with actors on the set of All About Evil. I got a lot of great feedback from them, saying it didn't feel to them that I was a first-time director and I suspect that had a lot to do with years of training with Trannyshack and Midnight Mass, making the short films, and basically being the person who was responsible for communicating a vision and nurturing people along to make sure it's what we wanted; but, also letting them be their own artists and encouraging their own creative input. So on one hand it was comfortable. There was something I enjoyed about it. It felt natural. On the other hand, I was working with an entirely new group of people, many of who had come from experienced film backgrounds. It was intimidating to reach outside of my group. But I have to say that we—and by "we" I mean the folks involved with Midnight Mass—stayed true to all the work habits we've always embodied: this should be fun, this should be creative, and this should be a community where we're all working together to get this done. The crew and the actors of All About Evil embraced those work habits. It felt like we were working on a huge version of something Midnight Mass had done before.

Guillén: Can you speak to the distinction between working on short films as opposed to a full feature? And what it's been like to combine the core group of collaborators who worked on your short films with the much larger crew required for a feature? Expanding your family, so to speak. How did that expansion influence your core group of collaborators?

Grannell: It was such a mutual joining. These film professionals were joining our group—our cult of bohemian misfits and DIY underground artists—and we were joining their world too. They were so patient and wonderful about teaching us and sharing information. I will forever be grateful to the crew of All About Evil. I feel blessed. You saw these butch, straight guys running around sweating their balls off every day for hours and hours and hours and they were never anything but respectful, gracious, and impressed with what we brought to the table. Every part of the crew—the art department, the costume designer, the lighting and camera department—took the time to teach the folks we had who showed up with no experience, the extra sets of hands, the film students, the fans, the artists. That was established across the board. That's not to say it wasn't challenging or hard or that we weren't trying to do a ridiculous amount of work in a short amount of time; but, somehow the marriage of the two worlds worked out really well. A lot of the film crew from All About Evil actually came and played with us at last Summer's final season of Midnight Mass.

Guillén: Admittedly you were wearing many hats (wigs?) for All About Evil, not the least of which was performing as Peaches Christ. You've mentioned to me in the past the necessity for conserving energy in order to be up for your Midnight Mass performances, so what was it like on the set of All About Evil where you had to prolong your performance of Peaches' persona on top of taking care of everything else? Did you get tired of Peaches?

Grannell: Yes!! I'd be lying if I said I didn't. I did have a lot of warning about it, however. There was this terror amongst the filmmaking world about this first-time director who was also a producer of the movie, who wrote the movie, and was going to be performing in drag in the movie. You could feel the fear amongst the establishment. [Laughs.] It was palpable.
John Cameron Mitchell actually gave me some advice before we began shooting. Ironically, two weeks before the shoot began, I hosted a screening of Hedwig and the Angry Inch at the Victoria. I met with John backstage and I told him I would be appearing in drag in the movie and he said, "It will be harder than you can ever imagine. Making Hedwig was the hardest thing I've ever done." I said, "Well, you were in it every day. You were the star of the movie. Peaches is only in 8 of 28 days." But now in retrospect I can't imagine or even fathom how John did it because—by the end of the shoot—I was really sick of Peaches.

Guillén: How long does it take for you to put on your make-up to become Peaches?

Grannell: That was one of the problems I had to figure out as the director. I had to show up on the set before everyone else. I hit the ground running, answering questions to the entire crew, leading and directing the whole time I was there. So, unlike the other actors who could show up on set and do a rehearsal and then go and get into hair and make-up for a few hours, I couldn't do that. I had to be available. We had to devise a plan where I would get up at my apartment three hours early, shave and do my face, which takes about two to three hours to do the whole thing. The reason it took a little bit longer was because sometimes I was so sleep-deprived and it was so early in the morning.

Guillén: I bet it was a nightmare to match up your eyebrows!

Grannell: Oh my God, it was a mess! My hands were shaking, both out of nerves and exhaustion. I would have to show up on the set ready to go and then Tria, my costume designer who was working in the costume department, would always be prepared. They had a special area for me where I could run away to do a quick change where they'd throw me into drag in 10 minutes, whereas any other actor in the set getting into costume would get more time. The bottom line was that Peaches could not affect the schedule. The schedule was built around me, Joshua, the director, needing to direct first. It was up to me to make sure that Peaches never made anyone wait.

Guillén: In the little bit of time that I worked as an extra on the film, I was amazed with how I would be exhausted after being 12 hours on the set, get home, and not be able to sleep for yet a few more hours because I was so pumped up on adrenalin. How did you handle that for a 5½-week shoot?!

Grannell: I have to say that it actually felt like it was longer because pre-production for me was so intense that—by the time we started shooting—I felt relief by just the fact that pre-production was over. [Laughs.] It was so stressful! All the planning and securing locations and casting the actors and basically just having to sell the thing over and over and over again, explaining every little vision, special effect, and stunt. By the time we started shooting, I felt this relief like, "Finally, the cameras are rolling. Now we can make this movie." It's all adrenalin that gets you through. I'm amazed we didn't all get sick. I'm amazed that I could live on that little sleep and—the way you described your experience—is exactly what I experienced: it was just a total rush every day that got you through.

Guillén: What's more astounding is that you want to do it again!

Grannell: I knoooow! Isn't that sick?! It's so sick. Sometimes I wonder if I'm out of my mind. It's difficult to describe: it was the hardest thing I've ever done and also one of the most incredible, satisfying, fun experiences. Some filmmakers describe it like going to war; but, I didn't feel that way. I felt we were bonding and creating this sick and twisted family. I get the metaphor of war, but I would say it was more like building a city. It didn't feel negative to me. War is such a horrible thing to compare to filmmaking; it's too dramatic and pretentious. I thought making a film was wonderful. It was super-dooper hard, yes, but there was a lot of levity on the set. Even when the shit was hitting the fan and stressful stuff was going on behind the scenes, there was a lot of laughter. Even when it was a nightmare, we'd still try to find a way to make a joke out of whatever was going on.

Guillén: Now that you've had the experience of directing your first feature film, and can look back at the experience, is there anything you would have done differently? Clearly you were learning as you went along?

Grannell: Definitely! There's no better film school, really, than making that first feature and it was obvious I was a first-time director. I'm not sure I've even had enough hindsight to answer your question; but, I guess I wish I would have had the luxury of more rehearsal time with the actors. They were incredible; but, due to the size of the budget, we would squeeze in rehearsals anywhere we could. I have to say, though, that
Natasha Lyonne especially made herself available, every hour of every day. We never had a day off. We were always working. So that's one thing: I wish I could go back and figure out a way to put more rehearsal into the schedule. I've learned so much that the next time I do this, I'll just be better at it. I'll have more confidence. I was lucky for my first time to be surrounded by a cast and a crew who trusted me; but, I wish I wouldn't have doubted myself as much as I did. I made it harder on myself than I needed to and came up to the same conclusions anyways.

Guillén: I remember the night the director's chair broke when you sat down in it.

Grannell: Yes! I was horrified. [Laughs.] That's one of those moments where you have to laugh, right? But this is what's really funny about that: everyone had told me, "You are going to lose weight making a movie because of the stress and anxiety." And I thought, "Great! That's fabulous. So I don't even need to worry about this diet I'm on." But, I gained so much weight making the movie! I'll eat out of boredom and I'll eat out of stress. Those are my triggers as far as food goes. Peaches has an open and honest struggle with the ups and downs of weight over the years so ripping through that director's chair on the set was both horrifying—more horrifying than any of the murders we were committing for the screen—and unbelievable.

Guillén: I don't mean to laugh but it was a genuinely funny moment watching those hunky guys get you out of the chair. The other laughable moment on set was when Thomas Dekker—who was a bit of a live wire on set—was harassing you and Heklina and you got so fed up with him and in a voice as cold as ice said, "Christian Bale is going to make such a good John Connor." What was it like working with your lead actress Natasha Lyonne?

Grannell: I have to say, Natasha had a sense of humor that fit in well with every queen on set. She did the movie because she loved doing the movie. That was clear from the get-go. That role, for any actress, is so risky. Not only are you carrying the weight of the movie but the movie depends upon your performance in order to—not only sell the movie—but make it entertaining, special, and eccentric, all those things that we wanted it to be. Natasha connected with the screenplay and—though we talked about it over the phone—it wasn't until she got to San Francisco and we spent time together creating the blueprint for the role that she truly fell in love with making the movie. I think it was hard for her when it was over. She didn't want to leave San Francisco. When we needed to add days, she was fine with that.

She openly has issues and struggles with acting in general, whether or not she even enjoys being an actress. I find that to be absolutely fascinating. She actually shared that with us on set the last day. She said, "I've been an actress basically my whole life." She was a child actor and she said, "I really go back and forth with whether or not I hate this crap or love it, and if I'm doing it for the right reasons, and this movie made me fall in love with acting again." She was amazing. Of course, we were all squish squish and crying; but, she was speaking from the heart. For anyone in her position to do this performance of an ego run wild, total insanity, going the full arc from A to Z, and to not make it 100% camp, to give the performance real depth and weight while also injecting a sense of humor, well, I can't imagine anyone else now having done it.

Guillén: It was revelatory to be an extra in the climax scene sitting in the front row at the Victoria Theatre watching her deliver her monologue on stage over and over and over again. She would bring slight nuances to her delivery every time, and they were always authentic. It was a fascinating experience for me to watch her and it made me wonder about how she could keep her concentration. Being on the set helped me realize how a movie is filmed so piecemeal. You're a stage performer, how was it to adhere your performance skills to such a piecemeal process?

Grannell: As the director, I felt comfortable with it because I was sitting in front of this fabulous monitor that was created to give me the scene or piece of the movie that I needed to see. As a performer, I found it to be incredibly difficult. As the director I was able to watch their performances and—because I had written and lived with the script so long—I knew when they were on or when they were off. I could watch them on the monitor and then tell them, "More of this. Less of that." I had a confidence around that. I knew when we "got" it. I wasn't second guessing that. The material was mine and I was comfortable with that directorial perspective. Even when we were jumping around sequentially, it didn't affect me. When I got stuck in front of the camera and there was no audience to laugh or cheer or react to Peaches, I hated it.

[At about this point three little girls began yelling at the top of their lungs and sustained the pitch until Joshua and I were forced out of our cafe conversation to consider their mayhem.]

That's unreal!

Guillén: They should be beheaded.

Grannell: I think that's going to be my next movie. I don't know if it will be controversial, something about gentrification and a child killer who wants to take them all out so the city can gentrify.

Guillén: A horror film about a comfort animal killer is long overdue.

Grannell: [Laughs.] Maybe we could combine them? A murderer who hates children and their comfort animals? Both of which have totally taken over this city, by the way.

Guillén: Back to All About Evil, where I really noticed the brilliance of that piecemeal process was the evening Cassandra Peterson did multiple takes of one of her scenes in the auditorium of the theater. She had to do it isolated and out of context and over and over and she was so fabulous and centered and kept pulling the performance right out of herself, even if at times she got past no more than a sentence. I was impressed with her professionalism, which made it all the more surprising when I spoke to her that she had serious reservations about calling herself an actress.

Grannell: Cassandra can call herself an actress. Her performance in All About Evil is going to be a revelation for people. She has so much talent; but, most people only know her as this one fabulous spectacle; Elvira is a character beyond one person.

Guillén: When I read Michael Fox's piece on All About Evil for SF360, I was intrigued by all that had been accomplished since shooting wrapped. You've done some focus group test screenings? What did you feel when you saw these focus audiences watching your first feature? When you saw the finished film for the first time, did it match what you had seen in your head?

Grannell: Yes. It felt like an out-of-body experience; a bit of torture and heaven at the same time. Part of it, too—and I think I talked to Michael about this—being the stage performer that I am, there's this anxiety about, "I can't change this experience. It's going to be what it is." That being said, having an audience respond—screaming where they're supposed to scream; being grossed out where they're supposed to be grossed out; snickering where they're supposed to snicker; cheering where they're supposed to cheer—to sit with those people and to experience the film that way was a high I don't know if I'll ever be able to recapture. I'm sure every screening will have its special moments; but, it was so cool to see it actually working with this test audience. In some ways even better than I expected.

The other interesting thing about seeing All About Evil with an audience for the first time was that you really see the movie you made, when at first it was just the movie that you set out to make. When I wrote the screenplay, I knew it was true to our Midnight Mass world, which meant that it was hard to quantify. It was hard to describe what it was. Was it a horror movie like the way we're used to watching horror movies today? No. Was it a straight-up black comedy? No, not really. After I watched the finished film for the first time, I was the one who said, "It's a black comedy set in the world of a horror movie." It's like a drive-in movie that I loved as a kid, but smart and sassy, and wickedly funny. I was able to finally understand my own movie for possibly the first time because there it was and this was what the audience did with it. It was wonderful that our gags worked.

Those things that you budget money and time for—of which we really had neither—were so terrifying on set. If you were making a Hollywood movie and dropping a body from the ceiling on someone in the way we did in one of the final scenes, not only would you have a whole crew just for that one scene but you'd have a whole week to shoot it, with CGI to help you. We did it all with practical effects. This was old-fashioned moviemaking and I'm thrilled to say that all of that stuff worked and is in the movie.

Guillén: Speaking of the challenge and triumph of practical effects, Aurora Bergere was a fascinating and truly creative collaborator on this project.

Grannell: Very much so. And what's important to recognize is that she did it for nothing. Like I said earlier, every penny was stretched for this movie. All these effects you see in the movie—the gag with
Mink Stole; the gag with Kat Turner—were one-take deals because we just didn't have time to re-set them. That's a real credit to Aurora's genius. She did test after test after test at home with a little digital camera and she'd bring the footage in to show me what the tests looked like of Mink's mouth being sewn shut.

Guillén: And Aurora looks like such a nice girl. You wouldn't think she was at her most creative mastering such grisly effects.

Grannell: She's sick! I would say to her, "When Mink rips through the stitches, I want it to look fleshy and I want you to see the strings and the pain" and she would say in her beautiful French accent, "Oh Joshua, it will be beautiful." And she meant it! For Aurora, gore is beauty, which it is when that's your work and that's what you're designing. She was a little French wonder. She designed these effects in such a way that we were able to get them in one take. When the audience sees the movie and they see that Mink gag, they should remember that was one take, two cameras. That's all we had time and money for.

Guillén: Beyond desire, what inspired you to make All About Evil? What were the advantages and disadvantages of filming in San Francisco?

Grannell: For me there was never any question that we had to make All About Evil in San Francisco, especially after being "responsible" for the whole Midnight Mass thing with the crazy cast of drag queens and performers, and nurturing a whole community of creative people—whether graphic designers or costume makers—who we've worked with over 12 years. When it was time to finally step up and do a feature, after making short films for $10, it was like, "Well, we have to shoot it in San Francisco!" It was written to take place in San Francisco. It was inspired and nurtured here. Even though we were bringing in people like Natasha Lyonne from New York to be in the movie and the fabulous D.P.
Tom Richmond from Los Angeles, the shoot was a great marriage between the bohemian underground drag weird world that I come from with more of an indie film world. Natasha's an indie icon in many ways and Tom had actually shot Natasha in The Slums of Beverly Hills. Darren Stein—who wrote and directed Jawbreaker—was one of the producers and then we married that with local producer Brian Benson.

Guillén: Originally, All About Evil was to be filmed at the Bridge Theater, but, at the last minute, the shoot was shifted to the Victoria Theatre. Can you speak about that?

Grannell: That was a real challenge. A week before cameras were to roll, we were all set to shoot the movie at the Bridge Theater—the home for Midnight Mass—the Bridge had shut down, the art department had already started painting the lobby, Natasha Lyonne and Thomas Dekker were arriving in San Francisco, and the biggest wrench you could imagine was thrown at us. The Bridge told us, "We're not able to do this." I can't go into the details as to why—I may still be a little bit angry about that whole evening where I laid in bed all night going, "My movie is being flushed down the toilet tonight and there's 100+ people ready to work on it." It was terrible. It was awful. But our location manager
Matthew Riutta stayed completely upbeat and positive and he went out and got us the Victoria Theater. As much as I love and will always love the Bridge—which was the perfect home for Midnight Mass—and as much as I've had a relationship with the Bridge, the Victoria ended up suiting the movie better. Matthew experienced this: when the owner of the Victoria heard that it was us and that we were looking for a new location, they responded. In some ways, being Peaches Christ isn't the worst thing in the world, as I imagined it would be when asking for favors. It was at one time. We didn't want landlords to know and certain employers for sure, but, in this case I had done a show at the Victoria with John Cameron Mitchell and that helped us get our foot in the door.

Guillén: So what do you think? Now that you have this first feature under your belt, could San Francisco be more hospitable to independent filmmakers?

Grannell: I've been in San Francisco almost 14 years and—when I began preparing to shoot All About Evil—I began running into other local filmmakers who told me how hard it was for them to make a movie in San Francisco. Once the challenges were pointed out about permits, parking, and a lot of the frustrations that are unique to this city in contrast to how other cities do it and the incentives and encouragements other cities offer, then it began to sink in more. How much a cop costs per hour in San Francisco versus another city were things I never knew before; but, now I do from looking at a budget with producers and trying to figure it out. So there is a part of me that feels, "We should start a proposition that says local filmmakers should get special rights because we pay taxes and we live here and we're artists from San Francisco." You would sign that proposition, right?

For Hollywood, San Francisco is a great location and they have a lot of money and can shoot here without having to worry about it; but, if you're a local filmmaker who lives here and you want to make a movie in your own city, it's incredibly challenging (if you want to do it legally).

Guillén: This is undoubtedly an obvious question, but why did you choose to make a film in the horror genre?

Grannell: It's what I love. I grew up the kid who subscribed to Fangoria magazine reading about Freddy Kreuger. In fact, I modeled Peaches Christ after Freddy Kreuger and Joan Crawford as if they were, like, married. I was inspired by
Divine and John Waters growing up in Maryland. I wanted to make the kind of movie I would have enjoyed seeing when I was a kid and—particularly with All About Evil—it's not really a horror movie first of all; it's really a black comedy set in the world of an old horror movie. But to call All About Evil a horror movie is, first of all, not true. It would have to be scarier. It's more a send-up of my love for Doris Wishman, Herschel Gordon-Lewis, and Ted Mikels. It's really about to what lengths DIY filmmakers will go to save our single-screen movie theaters. That's where the idea for this movie was born. And it was while I was managing the Bridge Theater for 12 years while also doing Midnight Mass. So this screenplay about single-screen theaters being an endangered species in San Francisco was a genuine fear I had and still have. The movie was born out of that but also had to be silly and funny.

Guillén: With a limited budget to make All About Evil, where did you spend your money?

Grannell: A lot of times we spent our money on overtime. Our shoot was extremely ambitious and the schedule was really tough. Just to get everything we needed to get, we had to go into overtime. I wouldn't say that the bulk of the budget went into any one place. The money was spread out as thinly and as wide as it possibly could have been. Every single department took the little amount of money that they had for the script and stretched it to the limit, whether it was costuming or the gore make-up effects, all of them were looking at us like, "Are you kidding? We're not miracle workers." And I was like, "Yes, you are. You can do it!"

Even though it was more money than I've ever dealt with, or made a movie with, it was in the same spirit as when we produced Midnight Mass where people showed up for the sake of the movie—art for art's sake—there was this local spirit about it. We had hundreds of extras. None of them were paid. Hundreds who came day after day after day. We would have never gotten that in L.A. But we could do it here because of who we were and what we were trying to do and there was this great support. I remember while shooting I'd be so exhausted and stressed out and then I'd look up in the balcony at the Victoria Theatre where the extras spent long hours sitting and waiting in the balcony and I'd get choked up because it was so cool to see the film supported by all those guys.

Guillén: Mark Twain quipped that the coldest winter he ever spent was summer in San Francisco. The city's unreliable weather is infamous. Did that cause any problems on the shoot?

Grannell: We were really lucky. I know exactly what you're asking because we talked a lot and thought a lot about that in pre-production. We shot just about a year ago at this time and after this major rainstorm we had this past weekend I was thinking, "Oh my God, I'm so glad we didn't have this during a day when we were shooting an exterior." Because we just didn't have rain like what we had over this past weekend. We had enough exteriors that weather like that would have screwed us.

The most memorable was a night shoot from 6:00PM to 6:00AM. If you've never done it, it's the weirdest thing: you show up at 6:00PM and everyone says "good morning" to you and they're eating breakfast; it's totally weird and wrong. I didn't really like the night shoots and you'd think I would being this big ol' drag queen. I preferred the day shoots. But one night we were shooting at about 4:00 in the morning on the roof of the Victoria Theatre and the wind was so insane that we almost had to shut down. The wind was burning the faces of the actors. Other than for that one night, we were really lucky. I don't know how you would prepare for that otherwise.

Guillén: How did the budget affect your ability to maintain script continuity?

Grannell: Some continuity problems I purposely left in the movie so that audiences can look for them and write about them on IMDb trivia and bloops. There are times where you think, "We either use it or we re-shoot. But we have no money because we've gone over budget." So you watch it and you think to yourself, "How much would anyone notice that?" There are a few places in the film where I'm waiting for someone to say something and they haven't so far. As the director, you can only look at that one wrong thing but often nobody else sees it.

Guillén: It's great that you're going to premiere the film at this year's San Francisco International. Congratulations. That's a great door to walk through; but, past that, what are your hopes for eventual distribution past the festival circuit?

Grannell: We don't yet know the answer to that entirely. I do have a plan, an idea, which is to premiere at the San Francisco International, then play some festivals—we've decided to be a little more calculated about what festivals we play and how many we do and where we do them—and then it's been my dream to launch and create an All About Evil stage show that will actually accompany the movie. It's how we're going to premiere the movie at the San Francisco International. Peaches Christ will present a "spooktacular" that night. Joshua will be there at the Q&A after the movie. So I don't think either of us will be watching the movie. In the case of the International, we're pulling out all the stops, we're going to film it for a documentary, and members of the cast will be performing. We're lucky that we have a cast of people such as Mink Stole and Thomas Dekker who are comfortable performing on stage with Peaches. It will be a drag extravaganza celebrating the movie. Then a version of that will go out to different cities, city by city. Two weeks after San Francisco, we'll be at the Alamo Drafthouse in Austin, Texas where we'll do a stage show where Mink Stole and Cassandra Peterson will be joining Peaches. I love
William Castle. I love all his gimmicks. These are the movies that we're sending up and celebrating in All About Evil so I figure that as much as possible our theatrical should emulate that. Luckily, I have a 13+-year relationship with Landmark Theatres, who have enjoyed the movie very much and are being supportive and helpful as far as this event tour goes.

Then I hope we can get a VOD deal and a DVD deal where every kid who reads about it in the pages of Fangoria magazine will be able to see it at home if they can't make it to one of the cities where the staged events are. I hope we can make it accessible to them.

Cross-published on
Twitch.

Wednesday, 7 April 2010

FILM & FOOD: PFA—Who Wants a Knuckle Samwick?

Anyone who lives in San Francisco knows that—if you are in their favor—the 7x7 guardian spirits bless you with chance encounters, broadside accidents and other romances. They love to mix it up. They'll stir serendipity into your Blue Bottle cappuccino. You'll be waiting to conduct an interview at the Larsen Associates offices on Ritch Alley, basking in one of the first warm days of Spring with—humility aside—the best-tasting coffee in town, and you'll find yourself shamelessly eavesdropping on a stranger's telecon, and all because he mentioned fried chicken and the best places in town to find it. Did you hear the sound of screeching brakes? Me and fried chicken go way back. I can do without a comfort animal but don't deny me my comfort food.

So Andrew ("Please call me Andy") Samwick and I struck up a conversation and he found out I was a film journalist and I found out he was a food blogger—inspired by the film Julie & Julia, no less—and, well, that's when the 7x7 guardians started grinning ear to ear because in no time flat Andy had become a plus one at my press screenings and he began turning me on to eateries and breweries around town. His blog You Want a Knuckle Samwick! is not only a fount of hand-to-mouth recommendations; but, a sensual diary of a young man embracing his discovery of himself in San Francisco. And that's really one of my favorite stories: the youthful faces change but the old story never ends.

For those who sport with phone apps, Andy has mastered Foursquare and currently reigns as Mayor in several fine establishments around the Bay Area. So who else to turn to when curious about where to eat by which particular movie theater? In a first of guest columns, Andy takes us to Berkeley to point out where to eat and drink near the Pacific Film Archive while catching their current film program Joseph Losey: Pictures of Provocation.

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There is definitely plenty of provocative food to eat while visiting Berkeley for PFA's Joseph Losey: Pictures of Provocation. I am partial to a good sausage. And if you don't have a lot of time or money, Top Dog is quite satisfying. With three locations in Berkeley and one in Oakland, there are plenty of options. I have had every dog on the menu since I moved to California in 1996.

Another place I love, probably more so for the beer, is Jupiter located at 2181 Shattuck Avenue (at Center Street). I was there in February to celebrate Strong Beer Month on a rainy evening. I got some snacks while I drank through the beer menu. Their BBQ Rib Tips are smoked pork rib tips wood-fired with the choice of mild or spice BBQ sauce and are served with their house slaw. And you can't go wrong with their pizza selections.

If you are looking for some healthy food options, there is a Café Gratitude at 1730 Shattuck. I love the "I Am Luscious" Smoothie. It's a raw chocolate smoothie that has hazelnut milk, figs, dates, raw cacao and vanilla. It is mighty good. The "I Am Cool Milkshake" certainly makes anyone feel confident. Otherwise known as the "Minty Chocolate Chip Shake", it has hazelnut milk, vanilla bean, raw cacao nibs and mint. When it comes to food, I always get their macrobiotic bowl called "I Am Whole." Basically, it is shredded kale, sea vegetables, quinoa, house-made kim chee and sprouts with garlic-tahini sauce and teriyaki almonds.

Now, if price is not an option, and you are looking for a legendary California cuisine experience, then run—don't walk—to Chez Panisse, 1517 Shattuck Avenue. Alice Waters opened her doors in 1971 and it is still one of the strongest restaurants we have going in the Bay Area. I have eaten in both the Café and the Restaurant. Most recently, last year, I had the experience of eating in the Restaurant with two of my girlfriends. The staff were so kind and inviting. They allowed us to tour the kitchen and see what goes on behind-the-scenes. The Café is also a great option and doesn't require reservations weeks in advance. I would suggest anything that highlights their access to local produce. Bob's beets, grapefruit and oranges and their current pizzetta are stunning. I should know, I spoil myself every time I go there.

The Pictures of Provocation series runs through April 16th. So, there is plenty of time to take advantage of some rare film gems and make it a great night with some suggested fare in the neighborhood.

SFIFF53 2010—Michael Hawley's Line-Up Preview, Pt. Two

Peering at the SFIFF53 films from non-French speaking Europe, I'm especially glad to see a pair of German entries. Maren Ade's Everyone Else won a Silver Bear at last year's Berlin Film Festival and follows the dissolution of a young couple on holiday in Sardinia. The film would have been a natural for our now-defunct Berlin & Beyond festival, and I'm assuming it didn't make the recent German Gems program because SFIFF already snagged it. If you've read the reviews and also caught Ade's debut The Forest for the Trees at SFIFF five years ago, you know this is going to be special. The other film is Turkish/German director Fatih Akin's Soul Kitchen, which is said to be quite different from his previous works like Head On and The Edge of Heaven. This one's a comic look at the efforts to save a failing family restaurant and stars my two favorite German actors, Moritz Bleibtreu and Birol Ünel.

I caught Portuguese director João Pedro Rodrigues hyper-stylized transsexual melodrama To Die Like a Man at the Palm Springs International Film Festival and loved it. Many loathed it. If you dug his previous works (O Fantasma, Two Drifters aka Odete) you sure don't want to miss this. In his review for the New York Film Festival, critic J. Hoberman called it "the kind of film Pedro Almodóvar should be making." Also Portuguese, at least in title and setting is Eugène Green's The Portuguese Nun. I'm totally unfamiliar with the work of this U.S.-born French director who seems to be known for his formalist approach to filmmaking. Ostensibly, the film is about a French actress making a film about a 17th century nun in Lisbon, with Green portraying the director. Variety gave it a scathing review, but I'm planning to give it a chance.

The big Italian film this year is Luca Guadagnino's I Am Love, starring Tilda Swinton as the unhappy wife of a Milanese industrialist. It's been compared to the works of Luchino Visconti. Uncoincidentally, the lone SFIFF screening of I Am Love takes place immediately after a restored print revival of Visconti's Senso at the Castro Theater on Sunday, May 2. If you're unable to make the showing, I Am Love opens at a Landmark Theater on July 2. The other Italian film I'm anticipating is Tizza Covi and Rainer Frimmel's La Pivellina, in which a group of circus performers find and keep an abandoned child. Also of interest from Italy is Giorgio Diritti's WWII massacre movie The Man Who Will Come, which won both Grand Jury and Audience Prizes at last year's Rome Film Festival

From elsewhere in Europe we have Serbian director Vladimir Perisic's Ordinary People, a multi-fest prizewinner and (Bruno) Dumont-ian parable of ethnic cleansing and the human potential for brutality. At an opposite extreme lies Nina Hedenius' Way of Nature, a near-silent meditation on life at a remote Swedish farm. According to some reports I've read, the ex-Soviet republic of Georgia might be the next international hotbed of inspired filmmaking. SFIFF53 has programmed one title that keeps popping up, Rusudan Pirveli's Susa, a neo-realist tale of a 12-year-old bootleg-vodka delivery boy. Also from Georgia is the documentary Russian Lessons, which examines the 2008 Georgia-Russia armed conflict.

2009 was a quiet year on the Latin American filmmaking front, with virtually none of the region's major directors releasing new films. I'd hoped to find the Mexican omnibus film Revolución in the line-up, but perhaps it's too soon after the film's January premiere at Berlin. That reasoning wouldn't apply, however, to the absence of Claudia Llosa's sublime The Milk of Sorrow, which won Berlin's top prize in 2009 and was one of the five Oscar nominees for Best Foreign Language Film. One wonders, did the programming team really deem this film unworthy of our fest or were other factors involved? Oh well, I'm darn glad I saw it at Palm Springs.

Headlining what Latin American cinema we do have at SFIFF53 is surely Brazilian director Walter Salles' receiving the Founders Directing Award, along with screenings of his 2008 Linha de Passe and also a new work-in-progress. Also from Brazil come the narrative feature The Famous and the Dead and the musical documentary Simonal: No One Knows How Tough It Was, about the "spectacular rise and infamous fall of the undisputed king of Brazilian popular music." From Colombia there's Ciro Guerra's The Wind Journeys, in which a man and teenage boy set off on a roadless road-trip to return a cursed accordion. I've watched this on screener and it's visually stunning. Usually we get a bunch of titles from Argentina in the festival, but this year there's only one. The Peddler documents the work of Daniel Burmeister, a traveling septuagenarian filmmaker who uses local amateur talent to create genre movies. Rounding out the South American roster is You Think You're the Prettiest, But You Are the Sluttiest, a Chilean comedy about the pitfalls of being young, horny and male.

While we may not have gotten Revolución, there are three other Mexican films in the SFIFF53 line-up, two of which I've previewed and heartily recommend. Roberto Hernandez and Geoffrey Smith's documentary Presumed Guilty is an exposé of the Mexican criminal justice systems that follows one young man's efforts to reverse a homicide conviction. In Rigoberto Perezcano's meditative feature Northless, a young man's determination to cross into El Norte gets waylaid by the female proprietor of a Tijuana grocery store. The film I haven't seen is Pedro González-Rubio's docu-fiction hybrid Alamar, in which a half-Mayan boy spends a final summer with his father and grandfather along the Caribbean coast. The film has won a slew of festival awards, most recently a Tiger at Rotterdam, and I'm saving it for a big-screen festival experience (the underwater cinematography is by Alexis Zabé, who also shot Carlos Reygadas' Silent Light and Fernando Eimbcke's Lake Tahoe).

OMFG! was the reaction I had to seeing two particular Asian titles in the line-up—and I'm using "Asian" here in its broadest geographical sense. In 2006 I was blown away by The Forsaken Land, a film by Sri Lankan director Vimukthi Jayasundara for which he won Cannes' Camera d'or for best first feature. I've had fingers and toes crossed that his new film Between Two Worlds would show up at our 3rd i South Asian Film Festival next fall, but I'm just as ecstatic to see it at the SF International. The other title that got a rise out of me is Iranian director Mohammad Rasoulof's The White Meadows. Rasoulof directed the phenomenal Iron Island, which the fest screened in 2006. I won't even attempt to synopsize what these two allegorical films are "about". Just read the program capsules and prepare yourself for an other-worldly cinematic experience. A million thanks to the programmers for securing these. (Mohammad Rasoulof, by the way, was arrested and imprisoned in Tehran along with director Jafar Panahi on March 1 and released 17 days later).

There are a handful of other Asian films I'm looking forward to. In 2006, Thai director Pen-Ek Ratanaruang made a big splash with Last Life in the Universe. His two follow-up films took a critical beating and never made it to our neck of the woods. Now he's made Nymph, which garnered mixed to favorable reviews, and I'm really pleased to have the chance to see it. One of the highlights of the 2005 SFIFF was a sidebar devoted to New Malaysian Cinema. One of the directors feted that year was Woo Ming-jin, and his new film called Woman on Fire Looks for Water has come our way. It's described as an "utterly gorgeous meditation on yearning and regret set amid a small fishing village." I caught Hirokazu Kore-eda's Air Doll, a wistful social comedy about a blow-up sex doll come to life, at Palm Springs. It's an inevitable disappointment coming on the heels of the director's undisputed masterpiece Still Walking, but is well worth seeing for the lead performance by bug-eyed South Korean star Bae Doo-Na (The Host, Linda Linda Linda). There are two more Iranian films I might catch if time allows. Nader Takmil Homayoun's Tehroun is a crime thriller set in Tehran's slums, while Babak Jalali's Frontier Blues is an absurdist portrait of life along Iran's northern frontier. Anyone with a penchant for star-studded Chinese historical epics probably won't want to miss Bodygyards and Assassins and Empire of Silver.

Finally, we have some films that don't fit in any of these geographic categories. The top prize winner at last year's Venice Film Festival was Samuel Maoz' Lebanon, a film set entirely inside an Israeli tank during the 1982 invasion of Lebanon. SFIFF53 also has this year's Grand Jury Prize winner from Sundance, Debra Granik's Winter's Bone. Set in a poor rural Ozark community, a 17-year-old girl must find her meth-cooking father to keep from losing the family home. Ted Kotcheff's 1971 once-considered-lost Australian exploitation shocker Wake in Fright (Outback) has been restored and revived with the hope of appalling a new generation of moviegoers. 2008's Baghead finally sold me on the talents of the directing Duplass Brothers and the festival will be screening their latest Cyrus, starring Marisa Tomei and John C. Reilly. Another (truly) American indie film that's sounds promising is Tanya Hamilton's Night Catches Us, the story of an ex-Black Panther returning home to Philadelphia in the year of the bicentennial. Finally, it you're as freaked out about Colony Collapse Disorder as I am, you won't want to miss Ross McDonnell and Carter Gunn's documentary Colony.

Cross-published on
film-415 and Twitch.

Tuesday, 6 April 2010

SFIFF53 2010—Michael Hawley's Line-Up Preview, Pt. One

The full line-up for the 53rd San Francisco International Film Festival (SFIFF) was announced at an unusually subdued press conference last week. With Executive Director Graham Leggat taking an uncustomary silent role in the proceedings, it was left for new Director of Programming Rachel Rosen and her staff to guide attendant journalists and Bay Area film community members through this year's impressive roster of 177 films from 46 countries. Rosen admitted that while the festival doesn't program according to "themes", certain ones inevitably emerge. 2010's program is characterized by "a return to basics and beauty in filmmaking," films that could be deemed "unclassifiable," films with an "intense interest in the creative process" and the beginnings of an "era of co-auteur theory" (15 of this year's selections have two or more directors). Rosen also joked that she has indulged her taste for "nuns, old men and farm animals."

In a previous entry I covered the films and events announced prior to the press conference. I won't be revisiting them here, except for these few addendums. Joining the list of on-stage "friends" at the Roger Ebert tribute will be writer/director Philip Kaufman and documentarian Errol Morris. At the world premiere of All About Evil, director Joshua Grannell (aka Peaches Christ) is expected to duet with actress Mink Stole on the theme song from John Waters' Female Trouble. Animator Don Hertzfeldt will be the youngest person to ever receive the fest's Persistance of Vision Award. The documentary Presumed Guilty so wowed the programming staff that they've already declared it winner of the Golden Gate Awards competition for Best Bay Area Doc, leaving one less decision for the jury.

Each year when the SFIFF line-up is revealed—and I've attended every single fest since 1976—I experience a mixture of elation and disappointment. This 53rd edition is no exception. Only six of the 20 films I most hoped for are in evidence, and several dozen more are MIA. That said, there are fully 25 films I'm very excited about seeing, with another dozen of possible interest. So here's my very subjective wander through what's in store from April 22 to May 6.

I'll begin, as I'm wont to do, with the French language selections. And right off, here's a big Evening Class kiss to whoever programmed Joann Sfar's Gainsbourg (Je t'aime…moi non plus). I'm a monster fan of musical iconoclast Serge Gainsbourg, but know very little about his life apart from the scandals (which include making the only pop record ever condemned by a Pope). This biopic only opened in French theaters three months ago, so once again, bravo. Somewhat relatedly, SFIFF has also programmed visionary Hong Kong director Johnnie To's Vengeance, which stars grizzled veteran rock 'n' roller Johnny Hallyday, aka the French Elvis Presley, as a chef avenging the Hong Kong slaughter of his daughter's family.

SFIFF has always done a fine job of keeping tabs on the work of France's l-o-n-g established auteurs. This year brings us Alain Resnais' Wild Grass, which won a special jury prize last year at Cannes, and Jacques Rivette's circus-set Around a Small Mountain. I sheepishly confess to not being a particular fan of the latter director's work, but I adored 2007's The Duchess of Langeais and this new one stars favorites Sergio Castellitto and Jane Birkin (ex-wife of Serge and mother of Charlotte Gainsbourg).

A number of mid-career French auteurs also pop up this year, starting with the Opening Night screening of Jean-Pierre Jeunet's Micmacs, his first film since 2004's A Very Long Engagement. Bruno Dumont returns to SFIFF with his latest provocation, a tale of religious extremism called Hadejwich. Although it's received tepid reviews, everyone I know is dying to see White Material because a) it stars Isabelle Huppert and b) it's directed by Claire Denis. This is Huppert's second film in as many years playing a white colonialist, the other being Rithy Panh's mysteriously as-yet-unseen in the Bay Area The Sea Wall. Director Jan Kounen, whom Variety once called "the Carlos Castañeda of hipster helmers," gets a crack at the Coco Chanel legend in Coco Chanel and Igor Stravinsky. The story takes place at a time when reviled and penniless Igor (due to "The Rite of Spring" and the Russian Revolution respectively) moves his wife and four kids into Coco's sprawling estate. The film stars Anna Mouglalis (who also plays chanteuse Juliette Gréco in Gainsbourg) and Danish dreamboat Mads Mikkelsen. Then in Christophe Honoré's Making Plans for Lena, put-upon wife and mother Chiara Mastroianni gets to spend a disastrous weekend at her parent's home in Bretagne. And yes, there's a part in it for Louis Garrel. SFIFF53 will also be showing a special sneak preview of a new-ish film by François Ozon.

Four other French language films I'm anticipating are by directors at or near the beginning of their careers. I was thrilled to find Patric Chiha's debut film Domain in the line-up because it stars the world's scariest actress and a personal favorite of mine, Béatrice Dalle. Who can believe it's been almost 25 years since Betty Blue? Here she plays an increasingly unhinged, alcoholic mathematician who has a special relationship with her gay, teenage nephew. The lead actress is also my reason for wanting to see Dutch director Dorothée van den Berghe's My Queen Karo. Déborah François (The Child, The Page Turner) stars in this story of a squatting family in 1970s Amsterdam, as seen through the eyes of a young girl, Karo. Making her second appearance at SFIFF is director Mia Hansen-Løve with Father of My Children. I wasn't as taken by 2008's All is Forgiven as many were, but I've heard nothing but great things about this true story of a French film producer's suicide and its effect on those he leaves behind. In her third feature, Lourdes, Austrian director Jessica Hausner enlists the help of yet another incomparable French actress. Sylvie Testud plays a wheelchair-bound, quasi non-believer who nonetheless makes a pilgrimage to Lourdes.

Finally, there are three French documentaries I've got my eye on. Serge Bromberg and Ruxandra Medrea's Henri-Georges Clouzot's Inferno attempts to reconstruct a lost masterpiece by the director of Diabolique and The Wages of Fear, while recounting the story of its troubled production. Documentarian Nicolas Philibert had a 2003 arthouse hit with To Be and To Have, about a contemporary one-room schoolhouse in rural France. His latest film Nénette looks at a 40-year-old orangutan who lives the caged life in Paris' Jardin des Plantes. Jean-François Delassus's 14-18: The Noise and the Fury is a WWI doc that programmer Rosen especially singled out as being "unclassifiable." Using a mix of newsreel footage, movie clips and the voice of an unseen soldier narrator, the film attempts to fathom a reason for the "war to end all wars" 10 million dead.

While the above titles represent a formidable effort at bringing the latest French cinema to the Bay Area, there are a number of curious omissions. Will the latest works by such notable directors as Robert Guédiguian (The Army of Crime), Lucas Belvaux (Rapt), Gaspar Noé (Enter the Void), Tony Gatlif (Korkoro), Costa Gavras (Eden is West), Patrice Chereau (Persecution) and Sebastien Lifshitz (Going South), as well as Isabelle Adjani's Cesar-winning performance in Skirt Day pop up at the SF Film Society's autumn French Cinema Now festival? Or will they already be considered old hat and forgotten by then?

Cross-published on
film-415 and Twitch.