I like the films coming from Swanberg, Duplass, Bujalski, et al mentioned in Kristin’s Mumblecore post. Kevin and I watched Joe Swanberg’s new film, Hannah Takes the Stairs at SXSW and I had the same response to it I’ve had to his other films (LOL, Kissing on the Mouth). I didn’t leave the theater riding on one emotion. I left talking about all the brilliant little gems, the pieces that are more relevant in his films than the whole. As Kristin put it, the films are a series moments so acutely portraying people trying to communicate.

As far as labeling this family of film–and the friendships growing between the filmmakers–as a “movement.” Well, I bristle at the idea. What is it about coining a movement that (in this case before these filmmakers even reach the age of thirty) we find comforting? Does it somehow validate watching films which individually may confuse us? Now that they’re grouped together, like the French New Wave, are we now able to analyze them? Where as before, we just had to watch them like we would any other movie.

If a group of like minded people gather together, it’s normal. But if those like minded people gather together and make something interesting, like European painters exiled to New York after World War II, they’re labeled a movement. Their work is not close and intimate, it’s recognized by themes and concepts demarcating that movement. In short, trying to stamp “mumblecore” on the work of a filmmaker like Joe Swanberg I think defeats what his films try to achieve: A moment of real intimacy and connection with the audience. The moment when a 25 year old girl sits in a theater wading through the film and suddenly says to herself, “Whoa! This is me! My boring little life is on a big screen and now, suddenly, it’s interesting!”

Maybe now instead of having that moment, that 25 year old girl will say, “Hmm. This is Mumblecore.”

If you’re interested in this blog, then chances are you know about the film Four Eyed Monsters. Even if you didn’t read about them here, their tsunami wave of popularity still probably reached you. Perhaps tsunami is a dramatic word, but when you consider that with no marketing besides what they could do themselves, they’ve had literally over a hundred thousand young hipsters (or wannabe hipsters like myself) following their video podcasts about the insanely tumultuous life of their film (fallouts with actors, fallouts with family, relationship trouble, and what was Arin doing sleeping in an airport and missing his flight to the premier of his own film? Aaah! It’s all so juicy!).

I met Susan Buice and Arin Crumley, the directors of Four Eyed Monsters, at a filmmaker cocktail party before their movie screened at the Waterfront Film Festival in June of 2005. I was really moved by how ambitious their film is, so I started keeping track of them. Since then they have:

- Been to dozens more festivals
- Posted a “Distributors Most Wanted List” on their website
- Held a screening for said distributors which resulted in no distribution
- Produced a wildly popular video podcast (Launched on iTunes the same day as the video iPod)
- Pioneered DIY distribution by having fans request the film in their city, then set up screenings
- Signed a deal with Withoutabox.com to distribute a DVD (which still hasn’t materialized)
- Hosted their own sold-out screenings in NYC
- Got even more screenings at the IFC Film Center in NYC, with less turnout than was hoped for

Finally, this week they won a $100,000 audience award at the indieWIRE Undiscovered Gem Festival, a traveling festival that hit a dozen cities this year. This award also brings theatrical distribution to theaters in seven other cities and a broadcast of the film on the Sundance Channel.

I’m really happy for Susan and Arin. When I first met them a year and a half ago, they said they wanted theatrical distribution. They wanted audiences to see the film in the “black box” of theaters, the place they felt it was meant to be shown. Now, through a lot of hard work and dedication, they got it. They really did it.

But I worry that they might be overlooking a much greater accomplishment. How many people have downloaded the podcast now? 150,000? 200,000? How many people will show up to see FEM with its distribution prize? Maybe a few thousand in each city? It’s been over four months since they released Episode 8 (and my tongue is still dangling from Susan’s oh-so-transgressive kiss!).

Susan and Arin, we loved you with no theatrical release. We loved the intimacy with which you bared your souls. We relished in the innovation with which two “amateurs” told their story. And we watched it all online, like a cinematic revolution was marching down the street outside our homes.

In kicking and screaming your way into a traditional distribution deal–the theatrical release of FEM–you inadvertently blazed a trail for truly alternative, truly grassroots distribution. The trail you blazed is leading to building a global audience without theater, home video, or TV distribution. A world where filmmakers don’t need the King to touch their shoulder with the sword of their marketing dollars and industry connections.

I worry now that you could come dangerously close to losing the audience you\’ve built on video podcasts by putting all your energy toward a less loyal audience going to theaters. Most of us don’t live near a theater where FEM will play. I’m happy you got what you always wanted, but there’s a selfish side of me that wants Episode 9. It’s the same side that’s more blown away with what you accomplished with your video podcasts than the grand prize you won this week.

Will you eventually give up on the pretty and popular–but fickle–girl (the theater) in favor of the wonderful, sensible girl who\’s been by you all along? (Me. The guy who just called himself a girl.)

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.