LDS Film Festival 2010

Instead of doing a whole series of reviews like last year, I'm going to report just once on the festival, although certain topics will probably come up again in future posts. The reason is that I felt obligated to finish that series before seriously doing anything else, and since it took most of the year to do it, I was pretty limited (artificially, I know) in what I could post about. So in order to relieve my own psychosis and hopefully retain a bit more interest from readers, I'm taking the short route.

General Impressions

I love the LDS Film Festival, and this year I was privileged to participate in ways that were new to me. In addition to participating in the 24 hour competition and attending all day every day (except for the opening screening Wednesday night), I contributed as a volunteer member of the staff, providing the AV gear for the filmmaker presentations, recording those presentations, and introducing all but one of the sessions. The reason I didn't introduce that one is the other new opportunity I had. A few days before the festival, Katherine Morris invited me to give a presentation and be on the panel for the LDS Film Forum. It came as a bolt from the blue because I don't really consider my contributions to be of any significance to anyone but me, but as the topic was Mormon Film and New Media, and as I'm the only "active" poster on this blog at the moment, I can understand in retrospect.

So I had a chance to see things from a different perspective this time, which was good. Thanks, Katherine, by the way, for giving me that chance. I'm still not totally over the surprise, but it touched me in a sacred way that you could not have anticipated and I hope I managed to meet your expectations.

Getting back to the point, all I can do is give you my personal impressions of the festival this time around. As I said, I love it. I look forward to it all year. This is the event that inspires me and keeps me going when everything seems set against my efforts as a filmmaker. Even when the films confuse or disappoint me, I still come away more committed.

That was certainly the case this time. Some of the films both confused and disappointed me. That's partially because I found less "LDS-ness" in some of them than I had hoped. I realize that on this blog and in academic circles we have tended to take a very broad definition of LDS film, including films that were made by Mormons, regardless of content. The festival itself certainly does not choose films according to how overtly Mormon they are. I'm not saying that should change, but I did feel that, particularly where narrative films were concerned, more of those films I saw were more secular, less influenced by LDS beliefs, and more generic than in the past. They reinforced the other definition of Mormon film that I read somewhere. To paraphrase: regular movies, only made by Mormons, and not as good (if you know where this comes from please remind me, I couldn't find the source).

Now that's not a universally (or even widely) applicable statement, especially the "not as good" part. The production value of the films is, I think, on a steady incline. Even those that don't go for a Hollywood look are becoming more and more polished. And the lack of Mormon influence in narrative film was limited, too. Many of the short films were strongly Mormon, and some special screenings like The Book of Jer3miah were profoundly so. More on that later. Others, like Humble Pie, presented their Mormonness more subtly. I also need to say that, of course, I didn't see every film playing at the festival. I can only speak to those that I actually saw.

Nevertheless, one of my general impressions this year from both the films and the presentations is a growing movement away from content that is easily identified as being influenced by LDS beliefs. That shouldn't be read as an accusation that these talented people are abandoning the faith. I don't mean that. It's a personal choice and there's room for growth on both sides. I just happen to think there's a great opportunity to move in the other direction right now.

Jer3miah, Williams, and Already Over

Many people at the festival were doing just that. Jeff Parkin and Jared Cardon's The Book of Jere3miah took some pioneering steps in both its content and form. For those unfamiliar, Jere3miah is a web series, complete with an immersive transmedia experience, including an alternate reality game for those who have the interest and the time. The entire first season was screened at the festival, which amounted to the equivalent of a feature length film.

In addition to expanding our paradigm of what Mormon film on the Web can be, Jer3miah rather boldly depicts the extent to which the LDS belief system can and should influence its adherents. The series unapologetically makes things like the voice of the Holy Ghost and scriptural guidance as much a part of everyday life for its characters as food and automobiles are for Americans. Doing so in a quasi-fantasy world is both a risky and a safe move. Because the supernatural happenings in the series require a certain suspension of disbelief, the eternal powers behind those happenings and the characters' responses to them can be easily included in the show's mythology. So non-LDS viewers might dismiss them as fantastic as quickly as they would the forces that empower any comic book superhero.

On the other hand, extraordinary actions like a Holy Ghost inspired slaying of an enemy (ala Nephi and Laban) by a seemingly average BYU student might spread a rather damaging impression of Mormons, particularly in a time when religion-based terrorism is undeniably real.

However, the success of popular TV serials like Heroes, Supernatural, and others has paved the way for this kind of extremity, and American audiences at least have shown their readiness to accept it. Including Mormons in the crowd of people who acknowledge and follow other-worldly whisperings might just as easily open doors and hearts as close them.

A less dramatic instance of increased Mormon content for a filmmaker was Kristal Williams-Rowley's short film offering, The Missing Song. Last year, Williams-Rowley's Mind the Gap deservedly won the short film competition, and while her film this year was less refined, it centered around a young woman's struggle to overcome spiritual paralysis born of her despair of finding an eternal companion. The straightforward discussion of very young Mormon women's feelings about marriage made this film stand out to me as one of the most uniquely Mormon works I saw.

Perhaps one of the most exceptional films I saw (by which I mean the one that was the greatest exception to what I expected), was the Fackrell brothers' Already Over, a music video that would have seemed more at home on an MTV college station than at the LDS Film Festival. The tone of the music was hard, heavy, and rough and I felt uncomfortable watching it, but at the same time I sensed the filmmakers' desire to depict a theme of struggle, captivity, and redemption. It was lyric and visual. This is the kind of thing I love to see, because it requires thought and makes extensive use of metaphor. Perhaps the multi-tiered application of metaphor was the most Mormon thing about it - or at least scriptural, if not uniquely Mormon, but an effects-heavy sense of restorationism did come through to me.

At the same time, Already Over represented one of the most direct uses of a form that is very popular outside the Church, but not generally well received within it. Dark-eyed, tattooed singers, a woman dressed in a way that temple ordinances would never allow, dark and intense imagery, and a heavy mood, even in the hopeful parts. All of these things made me wonder at first why of all the festivals out there, this film's makers chose this one. It seemed like a blatant attempt to push the envelope, but the depiction had an element of brutal sincerity that I don't often see, even in non-LDS themed films made by Mormons. I want to see more of what this film did, but less of the way it did it, I think.

I may be accused of being too generous to this film, but this kind of movie breaks my heart. There's just so much good to be said about it, even if there's an equal amount of bad.

Documentaries

One area in which the LDS Film Festival may never cease to be strongly LDS is the documentaries. With appearances by or subjects like household names John Bytheway and Janice Kapp Perry, and with contributions by Mormon arts and scholarship heavyweights Richard Bushman, T.C. Christensen, and Lee Groberg, the documentary selection is bound to feel very mainstream Mormon. There are always a lot, and I never get to see very many of them because of the presentations, but I did catch a few this year.

The first, I Am from Nowhere, was a beautiful story of the Lemko people, who almost no one has ever heard of. This tale of a lost people's cultural revival after decades of oppression, dismissal, and genocide is touching and extraordinary on its own, but if you replace the word "Lemko" with "Mormon," I think the film carries some portentous advice about the loss of cultural identity (and other things) that Latter-day Saints would do well to heed.

Rei Hamon: Man of Nature is a tribute to a skilled New Zealand nature artist who drew his inspiration from the way the natural world enhanced and aided his relationship with his Heavenly Father. This convert to Mormonism's story is told mostly by his closest family members and friends, and gives some great insight into a remarkable life, as well as what faith can mean to an artist.

One I didn't catch at the festival but saw afterward on DVD was Brandon Smith's Sacred Walls, which explores the symbolic meaning of temple exteriors without delving too deeply into sacred ordinances or attempting to dictate an official interpretation of these edifices' architecture. The simple style is consistent with the film's message that the most significant meanings of all sacred symbols are as individual as they are real. Smith's other film about the connection between Mormons and Masons also screened this year, but I haven't seen it yet.

Filmmaker Presentations

My volunteer assignment prevented me from fulfilling my desire from last year to see more of the screenings and hear fewer of the talks, but spending six to seven hours each day in a conference setting was fulfilling nonetheless.

Most of the presentations focused on the completed or in-progress works of the presenters, with the most notable exceptions being the LDS Film Forum and the session with frequent presenter and judge Michael Flynn. Flynn's words about passion and the nature of the film making beast were reminiscent of his presentation last year, with new material focusing on his work adapting several well-known LDS books to film, including a very detailed look at the process of finding support and funding for one of those projects: a film based on Dean Hughes' Midway to Heaven.

I'll be dealing with the topic of the Film Forum in a later post - outside the context of the festival.

A complete list of presenters and their topics can be found here.

A few highlights:

For those whose children enjoy the Liken series, a new musical stage production Jonah and the Great Fish opens this weekend at the SCERA. The show is in the evenings, and the film version is being shot during the day.

Joshua Ligairi and Andrew James discussed their film Cleanflix, which follows the edited movie industry in Utah and discusses issues of censorship, creative control, fair use, and others. Warning: the filmmakers felt that they needed to include the material that was edited out of these film as well as clips from the edited versions in order to do the subject justice, so for many viewers there will be offensive content in this film.

The idea is an interesting one - I personally don't agree with the stance Ligairi and James took. But the question is valid and I may raise it in the future: do you have to see the offensive content to appreciate the intent of the edited versions?

Dennis Packard, Lyman Dayton, Joe Pia, et al. spoke about the Masterpiece Film Initiative, which seeks to encourage truly great LDS cinema as defined by Spencer W. Kimball's A Gospel Vision of the Arts.

Upcoming films announced/discussed during the presentations:
The Last Eagle Scout from Kels Goodman
A Root Beer Christmas from Dave Hunter and Craig Clyde
Dragon Fire produced by Steven A. Lee and McKay Daines, directed by Ryan Little
Midway to Heaven from Michael Flynn
Immortality Bites from Maclain Nelson (also, a sequel to last year's sensation Dragon Hunter)
Cleanflix from Joshua Ligairi and Andrew James
Jonah and the Great Fish from Dennis Agle/Liken

Mormonness and Other Phenomena in the DVD release of Forever Strong

The Film

Ryan Little's Forever Strong has been compared to other popular sports films such as Remember the Titans and Rudy in ways both flattering and dismissive: flattering inasmuch as the film tells an inspirational story in a way that resonates with a wide variety of audiences, dismissive because it does so in a fairly formulaic manner – the formula in question being established and entrenched by movies such as these.

Both points are valid. Comparing Little's effort to the ostensibly larger, more widely known productions is more than an insecure attempt to turn a broadly targeted LDS film into the movement's flagship (see how Hollywood that was! Did you notice Sean Astin? Aren't Mormons great filmmakers?) or to ride the more famous films' coattails to financial or social success. Forever Strong really does have as good and universal a message as Titans even if it's not as emotionally charged as that film's racial elements can sometimes make it, and the two demonstrate many other similarities. And while Sean Faris' character Rick Penning doesn't share Rudy's overlooked underdog status, he does have certain obstacles to overcome before he can really belong on a team that is as famous in high school rugby as Notre Dame Football is in its sphere. All three films, and many others like them, utilize the medium of sports to teach lessons and tell stories that should transcend the realm of athletics and the ages of the players.

True it is also that the film is predictable. No one is surprised when the troubled Penning lands in a correctional facility, when he reluctantly agrees to join the Highland team, when the team suffers from his influence, when a teammate helps him see past himself, when tragedy involving that same teammate strikes, when the coach demonstrates both firmness and compassion in teaching life lessons, when the transformed Penning is confronted by his old life, when that life conspires against him, when he and his father share an emotional moment or two of forgiveness, or when (in slow motion and presumably against the odds) Penning himself scores the final, desperate, last-second winning goal. The average American moviegoer could probably give a good general outline of the film without ever having seen it.

But neither of those things (the similarity or the predictability) matter because neither of them say anything about the value of the film. The latter argument begs the question, what is wrong with following a formula in telling a story, particularly if such a formula helps an audience to identify its place within the story? Does knowing the end from the beginning make the journey meaningless? Why would we ever watch a film more than once if this were the case? The “that's been done before” philosophy would prevent the telling of a great many important stories if it were allowed to. This is not to deny the importance of new perspectives and innovative approaches, but rather to assert that tradition can provide as fertile a storytelling matrix as does frontier.

Are Remember the Titans or Rudy either worse or better because Forever Strong is like them? It could be argued that Little's film lacks originality, but this is simply a function of coming after so many others. Even if the genre was picked for the commercial potential demonstrated by movies like Titans and the “hook” was that hey, this is a rugby film, we've never seen that before, does this imply that the new offering can't be better than the old? I personally don't think Forever Strong is the “better” of the films I've mentioned, but the point is that it could be – even if every page of its playbook was taken from something previously done. It could still be better because the story, as real life Highland Rugby head coach Larry Gelwix says, is true.

The story has some important differences from the films mentioned above, however. Unlike Titans, the plot of which revolves around the coaching staff and is narrated by a child, focusing on the game of football as a microcosm of racial relations, Forever Strong focuses on a single player's personal life, telling the story from his perspective and somewhat downplaying the importance of Rugby in the transformational process. Unlike Rudy, in Forever Strong, the change in the team (coach included) is minimal – at least in terms of screen time. It's Penning converting to the Highland way, not Irish being made flexible by the tenacity of a small zealot.

This is one way in which Forever Strong, though not uniquely Mormon, fits comfortably into the developing tradition of Mormon film: it is essentially a personal conversion story, including themes of forgiveness and redemption. Penning is redeemed as he accepts the higher lifestyle of the Highland philosophy, from which his father has also, unbeknownst to the son, fallen away. It's interesting that Penning Sr.'s life of bitterness stems from the belief that when he was on Gelwix's team, he was played in the wrong position. This is exactly the same hurdle that Penning Jr. has to overcome in his very first game for Highland, when he learns that he is being placed somewhere other than his traditional goal-scoring post. His wounded pride at not being the star impacts the entire team and they lose the game through lack of effort,an unacceptable outcome to Gelwix.

Penning Jr. does not repeat his father's mistakes, however, and his personal redemption, which holds true even when he is framed by a former friend and jailed falsely, leads to the same change of heart in his father. Their spiritual atonement is made complete by the forgiveness the former extends to the latter as their teams (Penning Sr. coaches his son's former team) are about to face each other for the championship.

None of this happens, however, before Penning Jr. gives a perfect illustration of the LDS understanding of repentance. First he realizes the error of his ways, second he physically abandons his bad behavior (kicks a ball in which he's been hiding his drugs over the correctional facility fence), and third, he confesses his sins to the appropriate authority – in this case coach Gelwix. His probationary period is set (he can't play in the next game), but he is also promised future blessings (he is made co captain of the team). Ironically, Penning's repentance leads to his early release from his now irrelevant correctional sentence, which takes him from the Highland team and thrusts him back into the midst of the very environment he has just learned to forsake. His refusal to return to that lifestyle leads to the framing mentioned above. In the final game, he completes his repentance by asking forgiveness of those he has offended (his father).

Redemption also comes to coach Gelwix after his philosophy is challenged by Penning Jr.'s rebellion. At one point, the coach poses the thought to his wife that if he can't help Penning, it may be time for him to quit coaching. Clearly, the outcome indicates that Gelwix's usefulness as an instrument of change is far from expired.

Finally, “Q,” Highland's other co captain is brought to redemption by the converted Penning Jr.'s example when he admits first to Penning, and then to Gelwix that he has been cheating in school, in violation of the team's honor code.

One of the staple messages of the film is the importance of forgetting oneself in the quest for team victory. The definition of “team” can be variable. Gelwix's philosophy states that while being honestly beaten is undesirable, it is acceptable so long as the best effort is given. Accordingly, as mentioned, a key requirement is that players accept and magnify their positions on the team. Penning learns to accept that his role is not to score, but to support the team in other ways. This lesson, which embodies the transformation his attitude has undergone, is contradicted in the final seconds of the championship game when the already injured Penning fends off and evades repeated vicious attempts to disable him and scores the winning goal. That this is expected in a film of this nature has already been observed, but it might seem more consistent in this case to have Penning provide a critical assist to the goal, or to play a very minor part in the winning play. For him to rejoice in the desired outcome when it was brought about by the team's unity rather than his direct actions would reinforce the message rather than undermining it. The pacing, framing, and length of the critical shots are such that Penning's big play seems to be a one-man drive without regard for or awareness of teammates who may be in better scoring position.

From a certain perspective, however, the point may be moot. Gelwix instructs all his players that “it doesn't matter who scores. It only matters that we score.” If Penning has truly become converted to this teaching, then scoring any goal – even the winning goal of the championship game – holds no personal glory for him above what is shared by the team as a whole. That it was him who scored wouldn't matter. If this is the case, the scene in question has no inconsistency. My limited understanding of rugby prevents me from saying whether the goal represents Penning usurping the role of a teammate or simply being in the right place at the right time.

What I can say is that this scene feels inconsistent because it narrow the film's focus back to the game level – if Penning can only score, he will win the game. The transcendent lessons have been forgotten in a momentary push to make the play. While this deviation bothered me, it doesn't detract from the film's overall consistency enough to be a serious flaw.

The DVD

Coach Gelwix is an admirable man, that much is clear from the brief exposure I've had to him both in person and via this film. Although he isn't the crux of the story in Forever Strong, he is the source of the influence that transforms Penning's life. The DVD tries to capture that influence in a special feature entitled Life Lessons with Coach Larry Gelwix or something like that. The feature is interesting for several reasons. From one perspective, the interview Gelwix gives demonstrates how extensively his personal philosophy is written into the film's script and how ably Gary Cole capture's the man's character in his performance. Many lines and moments that I initially thought were dreamed up by the studio turn out to actually be common sayings and real depictions of this dynamic leader, which helps to give the film its credibility.

But most of that credibility comes from the fact that the story is true, as Gelwix unreservedly declares it to be. Hold on a minute. Just before that he said that the events in the film were composited from experiences of more than thirty years of coaching, and that they didn't happen all in one season. Then how can the story be true? Gelwix explains that, too. He says that the truth of a story – or any statement – has nearly nothing to do with the actual words (or other direct meaning carriers like film images) used. Instead, the story operates on true principles, the coach claims, which is why it can, in spite of being factually inaccurate, be true. This is why Christ's teaching in parables doesn't turn him into a liar. It may be that no nobleman going into a far country ever had the same experience with his stewards that the man in the parable of the talents had, but that hardly makes the parable false. So with any story.

To greater and lesser extents, the elements of a DVD share a symbiotic relationship. The special features, the previews or advertisements, the menu design, the navigation can influence the viewer's experience, and therefore interpretation of the film. Unlike theater viewing, DVDs allow the user to control the pace, timing, and content of the experience, I hope you'll forgive my speaking about my particular experience with this DVD.

I'm a believer that a work of art should be taken on its own terms and does not need the context of the artist's biography, previous works, etc. to be understood. Those things can certainly impact how art is viewed, but they do so by making the work in question a part of a larger story – no longer a story unto itself. This means that the emotions, impressions, and interpretations the audience associates with the work are not actually responses to the art, but to framework in which it is placed. It's the difference between beholding a breathtaking vista from a high mountaintop and thumbing through the photo album of all the family vacations, including that one.

The photo album effect is what DVD special features often try to do to a film. In addition to experiencing the art, you can learn about the “making of” and get to know the cast, crew, and other individuals outside of the context of their roles as artists or contributors. The Life Lessons section of the Forever Strong DVD introduces the viewer to the real Larry Gelwix, which has two distinct effects. First, it makes an already somewhat preachy sports-as-life film (a genre in which it can be hard to avoid preachyness) even more didactic. Second, it grounds the film's theatrical elements in reality. Not often do we get to hear exactly which events in a “based on actual events” film are actual. It sort of does what the ending of Tim Burton's Big Fish does for the protagonist's wild life story – it lets us see the humanity behind the mythology.

Regarding the first effect, I should mention that Forever Strong is not preachy in the sense that it shoves the philosophy it advocates down the viewer's throat, only in the sense that it takes a distinct stand on the issues it handles. The title of the Life Lessons feature lets the viewer know what to expect, so there's no reason to be surprised that it feels like a young adult fireside.

The presence of this feature on the disc may constitute a sideways attempt by Little (or someone else involved in the production) to satisfy the LDS impulse to use media and art as a missionary tool. You can enjoy the movie without feeling like you're in Sunday School, but if you would like to know more about the teachings of Larry Gelwix... The opportunity is there, and religion finally comes into it when, in one of the final segments of this feature, Gelwix characterizes his coaching methodology by saying “you can't do the Lord's work in the devil's way.”

There is no LDS-specific proselytizing that I observed, by the way.

But as far as I'm concerned, this may be a perfectly good way for LDS filmmakers to get their stronger gospel ideals into their productions. Life Lessons is distinct among the features on the disc because it's the only one that doesn't feel like it came from a fan site. It carries a sober, inspirational tone in that it openly preaches what the film attempts to represent in application.

The other features – viral videos, trailers, and the obligatory outtakes and bloopers are standard DVD fare, and that's okay.

One thing that felt missing from this DVD: previews. I'm often annoyed by them, particularly as they include more pitches for non-film products, but I confess that I was hoping for a look at the director's next project, some upcoming offerings from Candlelight, or something. Instead the disc firstplays the main menu and there is no option I could see for anything else. Disappointing to my cultural Mormonness, not very Hollywood-like (in spite of repeated claims that this was a major Hollywood release), but not a very serious flaw, if it was one at all.

In Review: LDSFF '09 Part 8: The Short Films

The short film competition is probably one of the best parts of the festival. I love the format, first of all, and to see ten or eleven of the films right in a row is great. This year, the competition was broken into two segments with about twenty films total. I won't discuss them all, but you can read synopses and get credit information here.

Let me briefly run down my impressions of the most memorable of these films (for me), in no particular order.

The Teller's Tale by Jared Parker and Jared Cook

This is a charming story that is great for anyone with children. It captures the magic that can exist when a father is involved in his childrens' lives and imaginations. Because I love to read to my daughters, this touched me.

The Skeleton Dance by the East Hollywood High stop-motion animation class.

While I found the animation on this one a little bit disturbing, it represented an encouraging and inventive effort by some talented young students.

Face to Face by Spanky Ward

This plain bothered me, and not in an introspective, constructive way. I don't know Mr. Ward (although I see his Craigslist ads all the time), but this seemed like a masochistic attempt to get us all to connect with our inner psychotic murderer. Coming to terms with your dark side is fine, but I thought this was a bit over the top.

In the film, a man is confronted in his home by an evil stranger who looks just like him. Predictably, over the course of their conversation it becomes clear that they're two sides of the same personality. The good self ends up embracing the murderous actions of the bad self, and, as far as I could tell at one viewing, embracing his evil nature as well.

True, we all do some things that we're ashamed of. We might even hide them from our consciousness as the man in this film did. But I just think Face to Face takes too bleak a view of human nature. We're not all murderers at heart, and when we come to realize our mistakes, most of us still desire to overcome our weakness. The absence of atonement here would be interesting if it were deliberate, but it seems unlikely that this was the case. Instead, this film simply gives up on human goodness and tells us all to go ahead and go to hell, since there’s no other place, really, although I doubt that even that was deliberate. My biggest problem with this film is not that it has dark and difficult themes or that the ending is unhappy; it's that the film seems utterly devoid of any constructive virtue. It denigrates both the main character and the audience.

Fifty Cents by Ali Barr and Sally Meyer

I thought this was an enchanting tale of the young learning from the old, and vice versa. Sally Meyer's gifts for short form writing come through here.

These Words are Mine by Robert Higginson, Brian Higginson, and Carol Lynch Williams

I'll take an extra minute on this because it applies to us as artists. This is a wonderful story of how an "impossibly horrible" writer uses her words to send the messages she's too shy to speak outright. The writer's boyfriend is reluctant to act as critic for her latest story because he doesn't want to endure its badness, but also doesn't want to hurt her feelings. He comes to understand, however, that although the words may be ill-chosen, the message is heartfelt, and it's for him.

In the Church, we have a high tolerance for people who are well intentioned but awkward in their execution. We almost expect people to be blunderers because, after all, the Lord looks on the heart and we certainly don't claim to be qualified for our callings do we? Our wills to be humble turn us all into this cute writer who does her best but invariably fails. What we hope is that those we're ministering to will understand our intent and not get caught because we're not mighty in writing. In LDS film, we similarly see a lot of attempts by people who mean well, but lack the polish of seasoned professionals. My question is, is that okay, expected, or even desirable?

The Edge of the World by E.R. Nelson

This is the second animated entry, and teaches a rather blunt lesson about recognizing what you have and being content with it.

A Piece of Infinity by Janine and Jamie Sides

This was probably the closest I came to shedding tears during this competition. It is an absolutely heart-wrenching look at relationships lost and the hope for the future.

Unhinged by Nick Stentzel and Diane Mayne

Like These Words are Mine, this film takes a look at art and relationships. This time though, the artist's obsession keeps his relationship from becoming meaningful, but he is awkward in art because he has no time for love. He almost loses his girl and his art, but he finally learns to let her in and finds the inspiration he's been looking for.

Best Wishes, Love Adele by Whitney Donald

A touching look at misunderstandings and forlorn hopes of romance, this film stands out because it takes a compassionate look at certain issues related to aging. I love the charitable ending, in which the doubters learn that the old man is big-hearted, rather than manipulative.

Mind the Gap by Kristal Williams-Rowley and Marcy Holland

This was the winner of the competition, and deservedly so. It centers on Sara, the daughter of a railroad engineer whose train is the weapon in a classmate's suicide. Sara struggles to deal with her feelings of bitterness towards the dead girl and her sense of injustice at the victimization (not for the first time) of her father, who copes with his own feelings by keeping a collection of small items found on the bodies of the people he has hit. Not only does this film reveal some startling statistics about the railroad industry, it openly confronts some difficult issues that are not often addressed simply because they are not obvious. The storytelling is superb. I was left feeling unsure whether this was a purely fictional film or a docu-drama. The film is beautiful, difficult, and in the end, uplifting.