There’s a lot of excitement around the Spout offices today, as we watch the tickets sell for our first community film-watching event, tonight. We’ll be watching 51 Birch Street, a documentary by Doug Block about his parents’ marriage and the general mystery we call “family.” After the screening, we’ll host an online Q & A time with the director, then we’ll get as many people as possible to head over to our favorite local joint, The Cottage Bar, for some beer and continued discussion. (After tonight we’ll continue the discussion in a conversation group on spout.com)

The fact that we’re handing out drink discounts for the Cottage should help get a crowd to participate in the follow up. But from what I’ve heard about the film, I think people will feel compelled to be together and have opportunities to talk about the issues the film presents. That’s ultimately what’s exciting to me about this event, and about film festivals and any community film watching experience, really: the possibility to connect with others and parts of ourselves in new ways, around ideas sparked by films. And that’s why we’re testing this event–to find out how we can help individuals anywhere put together an event like this. We’ll let you know how it goes.

Sunday night I saw Akeelah and the Bee, the Starbucks-funded and -marketed movie about a disadvantaged Los Angeles girl who becomes a spelling sensation. (Starbucks Entertainment and Lionsgate announced a partnership early in 2006.)

In a post earlier this month, called “Caffeinated flicks,” I wondered “…when corporations start tying themselves that publicly to films, and begin branding themselves through those films, how will that affect the art?” As Akeelah started rolling and a big “Starbucks Entertainment” came up on the screen, I felt my suspicions dig in their heels. There’s just something about a coffee company doing a movie that makes it seem less like a real movie, somehow. It feels a bit like getting a CD-ROM inside a box of Cocoa Puffs. How quality can it be?

But I enjoyed Akeelah and the Bee, for what it is: the good kind of feel-good family flick that carries you along with just the right doses of disappointment, suspense, cuteness, humor, and teary embraces.

I still can’t decide, though, what’s in it for Starbucks. All I can figure is that it’s another opportunity for the company to be ultra PC. It’s just a bit ironic that a company aimed at serving pricey drinks to the privileged made a movie about life in underprivileged LA. Sure, everyone who funds a movie has lots of money, and many films are about people without lots of money. The difference is that not everyone who funds a film is branding itself with that film the way Starbucks is. So here’s what I’m left wondering: Can we predict from this film what kind of story Starbucks will take to the screen next? Maybe not, but it will be interesting to see if there’s a “Starbucks Entertainment Genre” in the making.

I’m a bit of a doc junkie, so I was pretty pleased to see that Kevin Kelly (co-founding editor of Wired) has put together reviews of 100 of his favorite documentary films. Better yet, the 56-page book is published in PDF format, so you can download it for $3 (at the Boing Boing Digital Emporium).

On his website, Kevin nicely sums up what I love about docs:

“The very best of these non-fiction films are as entertaining as the best of Hollywood blockbusters. In contrast to the fiction that most movies are, true films offer authentic plot twists, real characters, and truth stranger than fiction. They aim to both entertain and to inform–a powerful combo.”

I think this book will be a great tool to change the minds of people who aren’t quite sold on the idea of enjoying documentaries. And for those who have long loved docs, apparently there’s already been a film club launched around the 100 films reviewed in the book. I’m not sure who organized it, or where, but it sounds like a good idea for Spout doc fans.

I’ll be back with more after I have a chance to look at the book.

It’s true. A few people in the world don’t have any trouble having fun. They can throw together a party, gather up a bunch of cool people, and generally make memorable things happen. But most of the rest of us could use a few idea-starters, it seems. At Spout we’ve been talking a lot about more ways to get people watching and talking about films together. Some of our ideas revolve around DIY-type party planners for different types of film-watching experiences–some crazy and fun-driven, others more contemplative and conversation-driven.

Anyway, I got kind of excited about this Battlestar Galactica party planner idea when I ran across it yesterday on Boing Boing. Zack Exley, the online activism strategist from the political organization MoveOn, has had plenty of success with his politically-driven house party concept. Now Exley and others have applied the idea to fan parties for Battlestar Galactica. Not exactly my cup o’ tea, but pretty cool nonetheless. The site helps you organize a party if you want to host, or you can find a party that’s being hosted in your area if you’re looking to hang out with other fans during the season opener. How cool would that be for films? (Especially if you’re into a somewhat obscure director or genre.)

The idea of many people doing the same thing on the same night in dozens of homes across the nation is pretty exciting, too. After all, those of us who love the same things are connected–we’re a part of one big community that’s usually just inhibited by geography.

So here’s my question: What do you think would be the best first Spout film-party planner concept, if we were to do such a thing? What would the theme be, or the featured film?

Just a couple of weeks after writing a post about Participant Productions and their success with socially-active filmmaking, I thought it was interesting to see how many politically- and socially-driven films were at the Toronto Film Festival this year.

Here’s a sampling of what’s been screened:

- Death of a President, a British fictional documentary about an obviously fictional assassination of President Bush
- Dixie Chicks: Shut Up and Sing, a documentary about the fallout surrounding the band’s public criticism of President Bush
- When the Levees Broke: A Requiem in Four Acts, Spike Lee’s HBO documentary about the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina
- “…So Goes the Nation,” a documentary examining the U.S. electoral process
- Sicko, clips from Michael Moore’s new film about the U.S. health care system

I haven’t done any real research on this, but it seems to me that the film industry is much more political than the music industry these days, which wasn’t the case 35 years ago. When a political message is woven into lyrics, it’s generally more subtle (and tends to last only a few minutes). Films–especially documentaries–are anything but subtle. It’s also a time commitment to go to the theater or rent the DVD and watch a film. (Of course, it’s a different story if the film is aired on HBO or, say, ABC.) But assuming it’s a film you have to go rent or buy a ticket for, are these sorts of films just “preaching to the choir,” or do they actually motivate change?

(For more on what’s happening with political films in Toronto, check out this indieWire article.)

I was doing my daily Boing Boing scan yesterday and was reminded of my last visit to a Starbucks, where I saw the film Akeelah and the Bee displayed for sale. (I’m sure many of you have looked at this display once or more a day as you get caffeinated, but for me, Starbucks, like Wendy’s, is something I reserve for travel.)

Anyway. I’ve been intrigued for a while by how the coffee giant has gotten themselves so involved in the music industry, in terms of marketing, distribution, and–let’s face it–two-way brand building. Now they’ve branched out with their first foray into film, with Akeelah and the Bee. Apparently they co-financed the making of the film, in addition to all their marketing and distribution efforts.

Here’s some of what the September 11 Boing Boing entry had to say:

The interesting thing here is the retail opportunity presented by a Starbucks partnership for DVD distribution. In bookselling, research has it that more than half of the people who might buy a book if they spotted it will never set foot in a bookstore or place an online order. In the golden age of pharmacy and grocery-store spinner-racks, more than half the books sold were sold outside of stores. Big-box stores and online stores can put together a much deeper, long-tail-compliant catalog than neighborhood stores or pharmacies ever could, but they can only sell those books to the kind of people who are willing to patronize bookstores.

The thing about selling a movie or a CD or a book in a Starbucks or other popular retail establishment is that it’s entirely positive for the sales of the media: the bookstore people will buy it in a bookstore, or maybe pick it up at Starbucks. The non-bookstore people who have an interest in that kind of movie/book/CD will pick up the title without cannibalizing sales that might have been generated elsewhere. It’s a wholly positive development.

Starbucks has already turned itself into a quiet powerhouse for CD sales for discs that it also owns a stake in — I’m fascinated to see if they manage to do this with movies, too.

I agree with most of this, but I get nervous when I hear things like “It’s a wholly positive development.” At this point, with this film (which is supposed to be pretty good), I can’t see anything wrong with it. But when corporations start tying themselves that publicly to films, and begin branding themselves through those films, how will that affect the art? Does it begin to smack of “special interests?” Will we be co-opted by not-so-great films? I guess my point is that it’s not just about making good films available for purchase at a wider range of places. It’s a more complex issue.

5 films (well, Rick is giving us 4 instead):

- Volver
- Babel
- Little Children
- The Last King of Scotland

4 interesting people:

- Kevin MacDonald (director of The Last King of Scotland–we recorded a podcast with him)
- Natasha (Kevin’s agent–funny and wonderfully opinionated)
- Forest Whitaker (so cool–he also was willing to do a podcast)
- the girls in the gondola (their conversation was…interesting, their allegiance to Family Guy over South Park was…disappointing)

3 favorite spots:

- the pathway along the stream that runs through the town–walking on it was a little retreat
- Baked in Telluride (delicious sandwiches and baked goods)
- the view on the gondola coming back down into Telluride at night (words can’t describe)

2 memorable moments:

- being at the Patrons’ Brunch high in the mountains (beautiful setting, interesting conversation)
- making the nighttime podcast from the gondola

1 way the festival changed you:

- The festival reaffirmed for me that great film isn’t about hype or celebrity. It’s about great stories, artfully told, then consumed and discussed by a community.

What did Dave do at Telluride? So glad you asked… Here’s what he told me.

5 favorite films:

- The Last King of Scotland (we had a good podcast conversation about the film)
- The War (the first part of the new Ken Burns documentary on WWII)
- The Italian
- Volver
- Infamous (for the acting)

4 interesting people:

- Kevin MacDonald (director of The Last King of Scotland–here’s our podcast featuring him)
- Sharon (an “older” woman who has been coming to the festival for about 10 years with a group of friends–the group has grown and this year numbered about 20)
- Forest Whitaker (lead actor in The Last King of Scotland–we also made a podcast with him)
- a couple from Boston we shared the gondola with after watching The War

3 favorite spots:

- the New Sheridan Saloon (lots of mingling, playing pool, drinking beer)
- the Elks Park (where the outdoor screenings were held)
- the gondola at night (a really stunning way to come down off a film)

2 memorable moments:

- walking and talking with Kevin MacDonald and Forest Whitaker (see podcast links above)
- listening to the conversation between Peter Bogdanovich and Bertrand Tavernier

1 way the festival changed you:

- I realized in a more complete way that there’s such a great diversity of film lovers out there–not a certain type like we sometimes imagine. The thing that ties them all together is their passion for “pictures.”

I talked to Bill for the first time since he returned from Telluride. He shared with me some of his favorites. Here they are for you. (And if you’re out there reading SpoutBlog and you went to Telluride 2006, give us a holler and let us know a few things you enjoyed most.)

5 favorite films:

- Volver
- The Lives of Others
- Ghosts of Cite Soleil
- The Last King of Scotland (we recorded a conversation four of us had after the film)
- Severance (we did a podcast interview with the director)

4 interesting people:

- Chris Anderson (author of The Long Tail, which I’ve blogged about)
- Lisa Kennedy (film critic for the Denver Post)
- Kevin MacDonnald (director of The Last King of Scotland)
- Asger Leth (director of Ghosts of Cite Soleil)

3 favorite spots:

- Baked in Telluride (amazing cinnamon rolls)
- Siam (an amazing Thai restaurant)
- the gondola

2 memorable moments:

- the dinner at the Steinberg residence (being a sponsor gave us great access to directors and others)
- being told by a woman named Rosie that my Spout shirt was very cool and she had to have it, so in the interest of marketing I gave her the shirt off my back

1 way the festival changed you:

- I realized that good directors aren’t good necessarily because they’re the best storytellers. They’re good because they have many of the same qualities as good managers: they’re good leaders who are able to attract the best talent and then create an environment where they can do what they do best.

Yesterday Paul shared some highlights from his experience at Telluride. Now it’s Aaron’s turn. Here’s what I asked for and here’s what he gave me.

5 favorite films:

- Jindabyne (check out my blog post about it)
- The Last King of Scotland
- Catch a Fire
- Volver
- John Ford Directs

4 interesting people:

- Peter Bogdanovich (check out the podcast of the conversation I had with him)
- Kevin MacDonald (again, another conversation, another podcast)
- Bill Pence (Telluride co-director for 33 years)
- Rolf (a really interesting Telluride volunteer and film-lover)

3 favorite spots:

- on the gondola descending the mountain into Telluride–a breathtaking view
- the trail leading from our hotel to the Brigandoon
- the Nugget Theatre (Spout was the Nugget sponsor)

2 memorable moments:

- Interviewing Peter Bogdanovich for SpoutBlog. I never expected to meet him, a consummate film lover, flimmaker, actor and film historian. The highlight of our conversation was when he said Orson Welles’s “genius was a kind of rebuke to mediocrity.”

- Paul and I were riding the gondola down to Telluride one night, in the dark, and the gondola stopped moving. There we were, hanging in the quiet darkness on the side of the mountain. Paul recorded a “final” entry with his recorder (”To whoever finds this compact flash card…”) Then it started moving again and we made if back safely. Paul recorded the scary sounds the gondola makes as it glides along.

1 way the festival changed you:

- Mostly, I just have hope that people are still making good films–that not everything being made is designed to just make money. I saw a lot of amazing and beautiful stories. When I think back on what I saw, I am amazed at the variety and the scope and breadth of the films: The hilarity and terror of Forest Whitaker in The Last King of Scotland; the aching beauty of the mountains and hidden rivers in Jindabyne; Penelope Cruz singing through her tears in Volver; Derek Luke standing naked in the midst of a South African field, his arms raised, guns pointed at him in Catch a Fire, and the hilarity of Jimmy Stewart recounting a humbling moment with the late great director John Ford in John Ford Directs. There are still people who actually love films. Out of that deep deep love they make wonderful and beautiful films. They know their craft and are true to the stories they want to tell.

The Spout guys returned from Telluride exhausted but full of stories and commentary. To help them sum up their experience I asked them to give me these things:

5 favorite films
4 interesting people
3 favorite spots
2 memorable moments
1 way the festival changed you

Today, Paul fills in the blanks. Make sure to read his posts for more meat. More to come soon from the other guys.

5 favorite films:

- Day Night Day Night (check out my post and podcast)
- Maldonne (I wrote a post)
- Little Children (I talked to the director, Todd Field, and made a podcast, and I wrote a post)
- The Great Expectations program: The Tube with a Hat and Marilena De La P7 (both Romanian)
- Lonesome (with a live freaking orchestra!)

4 interesting people:

- Julia Loktev (director of Day Night Day Night–loved her Q&A after the film, her ability to articulate)
- Quan (a writer I enjoyed discussing Dodsworth with)
- JP Gorin (the guest director of the festival–everyone loved his saucy “Frenchness”)
- An old Texan who didn’t know the phrase “film buff” but knew everything about films from the first part of the 20th Century

3 favorite spots:

- the West End Tavern (and their fried foods and spaten)
- the Galaxy Theater (a gym converted into a huge theater with weird Galileo-like constructions everywhere)
- the covered waiting area outside the Galaxy

2 highlights:

- Arriving in town and realizing that Telluride is everything it’s built up to be
- Seeing/discovering Maldonne, an amazing old film that’s been overlooked for nearly 80 years

1 way you see things differently:

- Experiencing a film is so much better when you’re looking for what’s memorable rather than what’s “good.”

Any combination of William Wyler, Samuel Goldwyn, and Walter Huston amounts to a classic. Period. Dodsworth endures because it’s a sophisticated piece with a lot going on beneath the surface. A retired automaker goes on a European voyage with his wife of twenty years who’s going through her own midlife crisis. It’s 100 minutes of snappy, intelligent dialogue injecting humor into mature themes of infidelity and marriage.

Dodsworth is a man ready to leap into the chapter of old age and enjoying the fruit of his labor. His wife is terrified of old age and runs into the arms of any man who takes an interest in her. After this film was screened at Telluride 2006, Sam Goldwyn Jr. did the Q&A. When asked why remakes of Dodsworth have been picked up and dropped so many times, he replied there’s little sympathy for this film. We can’t help but view movies from the time we live in. Dodsworth’s wife is unsympathetic for cheating on him. Dodsworth is unsympathetic because, today, nobody understands why he doesn’t just drop her and move on.

Therein lies the beauty of Dodsworth. Much like The Secret Lives of Dentists, underpinning this darkly comic story is a man trying to endure a chapter in his marriage and hang on to the history he and his wife built together. It’s not a decision most couples make today. But it’s a mature and calculated decision reflecting incredible endurance in the man who makes it.

Jindabyne centers around the marriage of Stewart (Gabriel Byrne) and Claire (Laura Linney). As the film unfolds scene by scene, we discover that Stewart and Claire have unresolved matters in their marriage stemming from Claire’s intense postpartum depression after the birth of their son. Claire constantly strives to be the mother she wasn’t when her son was born. Stewart finds himself in the middle of his life, wondering where his marriage is and what kind of a man he has become. The film draws us into this domestic life, which seems to be in a kind of stasis.

When Stewart goes away on an annual fishing trip with his friends, however, this stasis ends, bringing their wounds to the forefront. An incident followed by a collective decision by the men ignite a crisis for Stewart and his friends, as well as their wives and girlfriends. Ultimately, all of their secrets and deceptions are brought out into the light, along with a piercing question: What kind of men would make such a decision? For Stewart and Claire, this question forces them to face where they are wounded and decide ultimately what they will do and how they will move forward.

This story unfolds in the Australian outback in a little town called Jindabyne. The locations for this film are both stunning and haunting. Filmed entirely with natural light, the film has a sensibility to it that reminds the viewer of Malick, but what Ray Lawrence, the director, does with the landscape is wholly original. The vastness of the outback, the desolation of it, the beauty of it, guides the characters in a way. This approach casts the landscape as a kind of character all unto itself. Its secret and sacred places try to warn the characters against the tragedy that awaits them. Some of them can sense this, but other cannot because their lives have caused them to dull their sensitivity to the beauty around them and what it wants to tell them.

Each scene of the films unfolds the way it needs to, for how long it needs to. Lawrence doesn’t seem to be interested in making sure the audience is “entertained” at all times. Rather, his concern seems to be with the emotional truth of each scene and what that truth means for the characters. Lawrence leads us, and them, towards a conclusion that is utterly profound and moving, while at the same not heavy handed or emotionally manipulative.

One of the highlights of watching this film at Telluride was the presence of lead actress, Laura Linney. After the film was screened she answered questions about how it was made and how she created her character, Claire. One of the most interesting things she had to say involved the director’s decision to only use natural light for the film. He made this choice, she explained, so that their performances could shine through and be the centerpiece of the story. This decision, while risky, imbued the film with beauty and a sensibility that is not often seen in the cinema.

Michael Korda (nephew of Alexander Korda, a Hungarian immigrant who started London Film Productions and brought British films onto the world stage) has been here at Telluride with a biography he’s written about the Korda brothers. The book is Charmed Lives: A Family Romance and the Telluride Film Festival calls it, “perhaps the most entertaining book yet written on the art and commerce of filmmaking.”

I sat in on a Q&A between Korda and Leonard Maltin. The stories shared about the Korda brothers are remarkable and quirky. My favorite: Zoltan Korda, who was vehemently anti-British, directed some of the most patriotic British films of all time, like The Four Feathers (1939). He shot scene after scene sympathizing with the natives the British were killing, only to be charmed by his brother Alex into cutting them one by one during post-production.

It sounds like Charmed Lives is a must read. I’m also hankering to see The Private Life of Henry VIII (1933) and Rembrandt (1936) if for no other reason than to see what Michael Korda describes as “the crispness of a well organized story,” the very quality he ascribes to the great films of his father’s and uncles’ era.