Maryland Film Festival '07: Preview

This Friday, a personal, annual tradition will be reprised: For three days, I’ll attend the Maryland Film Festival in Baltimore, seeing a hodgepodge of little-seen independent features, off-the-wall short films, cult cinema, and the occasional documentary. As a self-proclaimed film nut, my yearly pilgrimage (well, driving back and forth on I-70 each morning) is something I probably should have done sooner.

Back in 2001, I first learned of the existence of the "MFF," which, like me, was nearly new to the festival circuit. Begun in 1999, the festival was housed entirely at the Charles Theatre, a restored movie house in the revitalizing art district across the railroad gridwork of Penn Station. Originally a cable car barn and later a ballroom, the 108-year-old, brown-brick building with two-story arched glass windows was gutted and expanded to five movie screens plus a little lobby. The festival was small, giving special emphasis to Baltimore filmmakers and the city’s reputation as a purveyor of strange cinema.

In other words, just my size.

By a month, I missed the 2001 festival--which featured such works as The American Astronaut, Four Dogs Playing Poker, Bill Plympton’s latest feature Mutant Aliens, the documentary Mr. Smithereen Goes to Washington, and the cult horror gore classic 2000 Maniacs (shown at the Bengies Drive-In and featuring a panel discussion with its director Herschell Gordon Lewis)--but I made plans for the following year, even though my life and work had completely changed by that point. On the early afternoon of May 3, I stepped into the Charles to see my first truly independent film, a movie with no distributor or bright financial future, made only because its creators coerced its existence against all common sense. The film was Body Drop Asphalt, a South Korean Jekyll-and-Hyde of a romantic comedy that first tried my patience and then propelled me on a visual, pop musical feast. I’ve been hooked ever since.

The Maryland Film Festival and its relatives around the country give a special gift to audiences: They provide an outlet for the real artistic film, one ill-made for profit. No where else can you see short films in vibrant abundance, nor will you see many of these features on the big screen anytime soon. To me, the festival is the chance to see something unusual, unexpected, and individualistic, and then meet the people behind the creation. Every year, Baltimorean cult giant John Waters presents a fringe film of his liking, while actors, directors, and producers attend others’ showings over the weekend in addition to their own presentations. They, too, are film fans.

This year’s festival is an odd one: Short of some truly standout features, I originally thought it was going to be an off year. The now-traditional Saturday 3-D and Sunday silent with the Alloy Orchestra still are intact, but the Comedy Shorts program--guaranteed worthwhile entertainment--is weirdly absent. Yet, my own schedule still boosts nine planned viewings, with a couple of others possibly in the offing given budget and ambition. My choices:

Friday

American Fork (2007). A gentle and naive grocery store clerk enrolls in an acting class, which in turn inspires him to mentor his dead-end friends. Things, however, take an unexpected, dark turn. A black comedy co-starring William Baldwin as the overdone acting class instructor and produced by Jeremy Coon of Napoleon Dynamite and The Sasquatch Dumpling Gang.

Time and Tide (2006). A somewhat short documentary about two friends who return to their indigenous homeland of the Pacific Ocean island nation of Tuvalu.

Saturday

Man in the Dark (1953). This year’s 3-D film was the first to use processed-projected background plates, creating an unusual depth-of-field. The film is best known for its roller coaster climax, finishing off a noir story of a former gangster who agrees to undergo experimental brain surgery to erase his criminal tendencies. Unfortunately, his former colleagues want one very important piece of information from him that he no longer knows, and they’ll stop at nothing to get it....

Syndromes and a Century (2006). A highly-acclaimed Thai film featuring two stories of courtship and love in two different time-periods, one inspired by the story of the director’s parents. The film, however, apparently an emotionally visual experience in addition to gentle, quiet storytelling. Can’t wait.

Animated Shorts. One of the two short programs I see every festival. This year’s feature 12 shorts, none of which I’ve read about, because I enjoy seeing these things unscathed by preparation. Usually, an eclectic mix of style, technique, and tone.

Golden Days (2006). A fly-on-the-wall documentary about a self-made indie band nearly torn apart by the major record label deal they somehow manage to land.

Sunday

Nosferatu (1922). The Alloy Orchestra, a three-man musical ensemble using an “outrageous assemblage of peculiar objects,” has created new scores for more than 20 silent films. Since the 2003 festival, the Alloy Orchestra performs one of their pieces with the film in question every Sunday morning. This year, the silent classic is F.W. Murnau’s classic vampire film. I’m normally not a fan of horror, but I adore the silent German Impressionistic filmmaking, and Murnau’s Sunrise (shown at the Charles before with the Alloy) and The Last Laugh are part of my home collection. Some films you just have to see, regardless of personal taste.

Domino Effect Shorts. With the absence of the Comedy Shorts program, I’m left with parsing out what I might like from the creatively-titled, but telling little program descriptions. This one features “a dark yet playful ensemble of highly visual shorts.” Really, that’s all they tell us outside of the basic plot descriptions.

Sound and Vision Shorts. Nearly music video more than film, these five shorts should be a fun and exhilarating way to end the festival, especially with a musical tribute to the Atari 2600. (!)

Despite my previous stillborn attempts, I hope to drop in each evening with a report of the day’s films and other activities. Unheralded, unpredictable, and otherwise, the Maryland Film Festival is a once-a-year chance to see once-in-a-lifetime cinema, and it’s long past time I shared it.