Sunday, 28 January 1996

Today is the actual last day here—getting a ride to the airport at 3:30 and flying back tonight. It’s kind of sad with everyone gone now and everything all over pretty much. I wish I would have got an earlier flight back, actually. But it’s okay—the whole week was hectic and now I’m able to relax a little. Went to two movies yesterday—The White Balloon at 7 pm, and The Bloody Child at 10 am. It was fun going to a movie like The Bloody Child in the morning, since it was somewhat experimental, very disturbing, and the kind of movie that’s impossible to see (anywhere but a festival). And it was pretty much nonlinear, but generally ran in reverse chronological order, much like this journal I’m writing.

Okay—the last thing yesterday was going to the closing night party, which was at some racket club in the suburbs—and was really hard to get into. We had like eight people in our group by that time, but only two tickets—so it was another iffy thing, like going to parties all week. We never were sure if we could get in, but we always did. Last night was the worst. There were tons of cops and a very organized system of entry. Tom Wheeler and Doug, who arrived earlier, managed to get in—Tom by ducking behind a curtain which totally surrounded the space. It was like an indoor football field sized space (actually tennis courts) and there was a curtain around the edge. Total chaos, but enough force at the door to keep us from getting in until we got the attention of Trevor, one of the programmers who was really nice to us all week, and he got us in.

Lots of people were exceptionally nice all week, and it was odd contrasted with the inconsiderate and rude behavior you would also see. It was kind of like local rednecks verses the rude Hollywood and New York types. You could see it. But amidst this you’d also see evidence of being nice actually mean something. Being considerate actually meaning something. It was kind of reaffirming all in all.

I saw a waiter at a restaurant YELL at a group of people yesterday. Amazing. The older woman working at the Vietnamese restaurant I’m eating lunch at right now just came up with my check and touched my arm and said, “Take your time.” Since I’m sitting here alone writing, very nice.

Where was I, though? At the party last night, incredibly crowded, we saw a lot of the people we met who were totally nice and supportive of us. You really kind of got the feeling that people were so happy we made a movie everyone wants to be made but no one has the courage to make. Totally un-commercial and not very happy.

We saw Matt W. again who was from Iowa City, etc. And Steve Bognar, who is from Dayton (and we saw all week), and did a documentary called Personal Belongings. He knows Ed Pittman (from Dayton).