Karina Longworth is contributing posts from Tribecca in New York (check them out–we’re so excited to have her here on SpoutBlog). I’m here in the cornfield-embedded college town of Champaign-Urbana, Illinois. Sigh.

But I was feeling compelled this morning, nonetheless, to write a post about the ability, even in a small Midwestern town, to see great movies on a big screen. Besides the fact that we have a much-loved art film theater and all kinds of mini film festivals through the University of Illinois, we have our own annual festival, taking place this week–the 9th annual Roger Ebert’s Overlooked Film Festival. Ebert grew up here, going to movies (including Gone with the Wind) at the 86-year-old Virginia Theatre, where the festival is held.

Much is often overlooked where I live–the Midewest in general, this town, Ebert’s festival. But the most important things being overlooked (by all kinds of people everywhere) are great films. This is what Ebert is hoping to change through his festival. The first year I went, in April of 2002, I was skeptical. I thought the films would be good in a slightly-left-of-mainstream way. But I was genuinely impressed by what I saw and the way Ebert talked about each of them, before the movie started, and after it ended, often in conversation with the director or other guest. He is really passionate about these overlooked films. He’s far more complex than a black or white, thumbs-up or -down man. (That first year I heard the Alloy Orchestra accompany the silent classic Metropolis, and I saw David Gordon Greene’s George Washington, followed by a conversation between Ebert and Greene. I still carry those and other Overlooked Film Festival movie experiences with me.)

At this year’s festival, for the first time, Ebert won’t be talking before and after the films. Last year he underwent significant jaw surgery in his battle with cancer, and he isn’t able to talk. (See this piece by him and this CNN story about him.) But he is here, with his wife Chaz and other friends as his voice, which is pretty darn impressive. And even though there’s not much in the movie realm that could seem more mainstream than Roger Ebert, I’m glad that he’s doing so much to promote great films that a somewhat mainstream audience might not otherwise see–especially in a small town like this.

An article in yesterday’s indieWIRE biz section made me feel a twinge of sadness and more than a twinge of concern. The story began with this:

Foreign-language cinema got another vote of no confidence yesterday, with the announcement of Dreamachine, a new film company formed out of the merger of international sales outfit Celluloid Dreams with U.K.-based HanWay Films.

Yikes. Votes of no confidence are harsh. And machines (even of the dream sort) are a bit frightening. OK, I know I’m not business-minded enough to appreciate decisions like this and understand the possible necessity behind them, but I can’t help feeling like this is a sell-out for foreign films. All in the name of profit.

The article goes on to say that Dreamachine will “continue to take on foreign talents and maintain relationships with its proven staple of auteurs,” but fewer films will be made, and most of them in English. I don’t quite get how those are foreign language films at all, any more. (Celluloid Dream’s Hengameh Panahi estimates only one-third of the titles they take will be foreign language.) Apparently, it all comes down to being able to focus on bigger projects. This surely translates to bigger profits, but better films? It’s hard to imagine.

Panahi, who is widely respected for her taste and commitment to movies she loves, does admit the change isn’t easy for her.

“But the only problem for me is I have to give up on my smaller films, which is hard because I love them,” Panahi continued. “At the same time, I realize there is no economy for those movies anymore.” By taking on films with less commercial potential, she said, “We’re helping the market to become more crowded and we’re helping the small distributor to be more fragile.”

“Everybody is drowning in volume,” Panahi continued.

The volume part is no surprise, with the Long Tail almost a household term these days. But drowning? Do we have to drown? Or can we find a nice little boat to navigate around in? It’s hard for me to imagine that the Long Tail is already shrinking. It’s hard to imagine that VOD and other technology advancements aren’t creating more opportunities for smaller films to find audiences. And it’s hard for me to accept the thought that Dreamachine might become just an old-school Hollywood approach to something that will barely resemble what we used to know of as foreign language cinema. Isn’t this the time of possibility and opportunity? The time to move toward something new, rather than toward old models?

At least people seem to have faith that Panahi won’t sell out entirely, in terms of making only films that are increasingly mainstream. We can only hope.