In Review: LDSFF '09 Part 1 - General Observations

I have no idea how many parts there will be to this series, but probably a lot. It should keep me busy for some time. So, to it!

The 8th annual LDS Film Festival concluded last Saturday at about 11:30 PM. The only exception to that is the script workshop, which is this weekend. Since I won't be attending that, I'm ready to start reviewing. I thought it would be appropriate, before delving into the specifics of what happened there, to offer some general observations about the festival this year that made my experience memorable. First and foremost for me was the difference from last year, specifically in how I felt while there.

Let me give you a bit of history. I've said often to my wife that going to the festival last year was the best thing I'd ever done for my career from a spiritual and professional perspective. The reasons for that are many, but I won't go into them here. It was at that festival that I first heard of this blog. I started following it and when Trevor asked for contributors a bit later, I jumped right in. My life has changed dramatically as a result.

So I might have been expecting a similarly inspirational experience this year. I got it, but not until the awards ceremony. Most of it came as I talked over the phone to my sweet wife on the drive home. And it was not at all what I was thinking of. Instead, most of this year's festival felt like what it was - a business conference. I've run A/V equipment at countless events for many companies and industries in the past five years. This festival was only different from those in that I had a personal stake in it. That made it more interesting, but not always more exciting. While it wasn't drudgery by any stretch of the imagination, I found myself thinking and feeling with less uncorked enthusiasm and more quiet staying power. It was a good feeling, but one that required a certain degree of tenacity.

One of the first things I noticed in looking over the schedule was that there seemed to be far fewer films this year that were built around a specifically LDS, spiritual theme. There were exceptions, of course, such as the flagship film, Christian Vuissa's Father in Israel. My biggest regret of the week is that I didn't get to see that one. There was also One Man's Treasure, (a missionary film), Mario's Conviction, (a film version of From Mobster to Mormon), and Dianatha's Crossing (set during the "invasion" of Salt Lake City by Johnston's army). But the majority of the feature-length films were either non-specific in their spirituality or simply secular. To be fair, several of the special screenings (too long to be competitive shorts, to short to be features) did have LDS content, and in rich supply.

Let me admit at this point that I didn't see most of the features and special screenings, since I was attending the filmmaker presentations. I did see some. But these are the impressions I got from looking and listening and talking to people. If I'm wrong, please correct me.

I also want to say that I think that's something I'll do differently next year. Although I was eager to hear the presentations, I don't think I got as much out of them this year as last. Maybe it was the subject matter, but I don't think so. I think next time I would like to see more of the work of my associates there, and hear less, if necessary, of their commentary.

Speaking of which, that was another difference: I had associates there. Last year, the only person I knew was Brandon Smith, who was the first director I ever screen acted for. He works on Christian's films now. This time, before I even walked in the door Thursday night, a member of my 24 hour film making group told me that someone was there who wanted to meet me. I was stunned. It turned out to be Brent Leavitt, who I've interacted with online, but never met until then. He does excellent work on his Sun Swing Studies, and was a volunteer that night. In fact, an intermittent conversation I had with him throughout Saturday was possibly the single most inspirational event of the weekend for me. I also had the opportunity to see Brandon again (always a nice thing) and meet and speak to people like Maclain Nelson (actor and executive producer), Christian Vuissa (filmmaker and festival founder), Russ Whitelock (composer), Arlen Card (composer), and others whose names I didn't get.

More genres were represented as well, from teen-mystery to political activism to high fantasy/adventure. The short films were as stunning in their variety as they were in their quality. They were easily my favorite. Even the 24 hour films, of which there were 41, including my first-ever festival entry, showed incredible talent, skill, and creativity. That's not a description of mine, by the way, which was among the dimmest candles of the evening.

All in all, I saw 65 of the 100+ films that screened there and attended 9 hours of presentations in less than three days. I think the most important thing about the festival is that it shows that film making in the LDS community is alive and well. People are producing, and they're producing quality films.

The biggest room in the world is the room for improvement, as one professor of mine says, but Latter-day Saints in this field are showing their drive to be productive - even prolific - and to strive for the same progression in their art that they strive for in their souls. More thoughts on this will come out in subsequent posts, but I think I'm safe in saying that the gloom and doom predicted by some for the LDS film movement couldn't be less accurate. I think we're going through a period of introspection, experimentation, and maybe even captivity of sorts, but we will emerge stronger than before. Why do I think this? Because if the festival impacted others the way it did me, then LDS filmmakers are more determined than ever.

A Question For You

So, the festival is underway and I'm enjoying it far too much. But I have a slight problem. You see, the two most attractive presentations (in my opinion) are scheduled at the same time. One is the LDS Film Forum, which will be about what the LDSFF '09 tells us about ourselves and our art. The other is a presentation from a non-LDS filmmaker with similar values to most LDS filmmakers. He will be giving an outside perspective on the LDS film movement.

I don't want to miss either, but I obviously have to choose. I can't. So I'm asking you. Because I'm inevitably going to end up writing about whichever I go to, I want to know

LDSFF '09

Just a quick reminder, the LDS Film Festival gets underway Friday the 16that 10:00 AM with the 24hr. film making marathon. Starting this coming Monday, you'll be able to see a schedule of events and get other information here. The festival officially runs from the 21st through the 24th. I hope to be there for most of it, and I'm sure there will be lots of interesting things to discuss, wherever those discussions take place.

Not Very Good, but Who Cares?

I guess someone was bound to post on this movie here eventually. I haven't had the pleasure of seeing it yet, but that's part of why I'm writing this now. Everyone I've talked to about Twilight and many comments I've read have all had the same thing to say: the movie wasn't that great, but people liked it anyway. And not just teenage people. I've heard strong positives from elderly women and middle-aged men as well.

What an interesting phenomenon for a movie - especially one with strong Mormon ties! A lot of people have argued that poor production values have been a major downfall of LDS cinema. While Twilight may not fall under narrower definitions of that term, it certainly has a place in the history of the movement, and it may be a significant one. Regardless of how well the film or its characters or the book it's based on represent Mormonism, its doctrines, or its adherents, this is a film about a debut book by an obscure Mormon author who, in a startlingly short time, was transformed into a popular sensation. This film defies the idea that a person needs the most expensive, the most experienced, and the best of everything to reach a whole herd of people - to make it in spectacular fashion. This seems to me to be a very Christian idea - the weak and simple, as it were. Almost all I hear about this movie is 'the special effects were lousy, the acting wasn't great, and there were a host of other flaws, but I loved it.' So here's the question: why? What makes this film's flaws so ultimately forgivable?

And here's another: if Twilight can have such influence without superior acting, technical excellence, or a huge budget, how much do these things matter? How does this change our perspective on where the LDS film movement should go? Do we all want the kind of exposure that Stephenie Meyer has gotten? It's interesting that, as far as I know, the majority of the attention generated by the movie is turning to her - the author of the books. Some of it is bound to fall on the Church and other Mormon artists.

So what do you need to make an influential movie? A story with a good soul? A flock of teenage hyper-fans? Or do you just need vampires?

Of What Fold Are We?

Let me be upfront about this. This post is not intended as a condemnation, condescension, or any other con you can think of towards anything. It's an honest thought with a question attached. Please read it in that light.

I've been wondering. We hear a lot from the brethren and from members of the Church in general about media as the showcase of wickedness. We hear from a lot of producers of LDS films (and other arts) about their good intentions. We hear a lot about film and how good ones challenge us. We also probably say a lot about these things. I know I do.

There's a constant banter about ratings, standards, and other measures for determining what is good to consume and what should be avoided and under what circumstances. Some want rock-solid statements by which to judge every time. Some want the kind of flexibility that takes each work individually as it comes. Both have good arguments. We all want to know how we should approach what's out there and how much of it we should let in here and how to get our product out there in an appropriate fashion.

My questions are these: why are we so eager to partake of (and sometimes emulate) the world's every offering? When we readily admit that popular films in general are getting more edgy, when we acknowledge that the people who make them do not share our standards, when we even suspect some of them of having unholy agendas, why do we rush to see what kind of fare they have created? I am not implying that there is no good answer to these questions. There may well be one or more good reasons to do this. I can see cases on either side. But I ask the question because I think it is legitimate. When we have prophetic counsel to be very guarded in what influences to allow in our lives, can we go long without asking these or similar questions?

It may be a testament to the value neutral nature of artistic and technical knowledge that some of our best and brightest are seeking education at the same institutions that train some of those who would make things even worse and calling their learning excellent. It may be a deterrent to maintenance of a spiritual perspective on film. It may be an attempt to raise the bar or bridge a gap for LDS cinema. It may verify the claim that truth, wherever it lies, should be sought out. It may describe a need: namely, a supply of high caliber, LDS or LDS-values-friendly film schools.

Perhaps one reason we are struggling to improve LDS cinema is that we are learning primarily from Gospel-incompatible sources. If so, perhaps something should be done to change that.

That's what I've been wondering about. What do you think?

Reflections on Reflections of Christ

I'm sure many if not all of you have heard of this remarkable photographic achievement of Mark Mabry's. If not, look here. The site is being redesigned, so this link will only work for a limited time.

My brother directed me to a Mormon Times article about this exhibit that got me thinking about what we try to do here. In it, Mabry expresses some interesting thoughts that I think would be good for all LDS artists to consider. Reading it will give you context on what I'm about to say.

I think of chief interest to me in this article is the concept of worthiness that Mabry outlines. He talks about appropriate subject matter. He discusses giving up harmful influences. He talks about singleness of purpose. He says that if he fails to remain faithful in his testimony, his work will lose its power, even though it's already been completed.

I realize that the purpose of Reflections of Christ differs from that of much of LDS art, particularly cinema perhaps. But I still think that the worthiness of the artist has to do with the quality and impact of the art. This must be especially true where the work in question is a testimonial piece. Whatever the intent or scope of our art, however, I imagine we all seek divine assistance. I know I do.

I wonder what this article and this exhibit have to say that we can benefit from.

Iron Man and Lancelot

In the spirit of Benjamin's posts on lessons from cinema, I want to talk about some things I'm learning from the joint venture of watching the recently released DVD of Iron Man and reading T.H. White's The Once and Future King, which is about King Arthur.

Redemption. That's the word (repeated in many reviews you may have read) that convinced me to watch this movie, and I'm glad I did. The way the main character, Tony Stark, goes from careless playboy genius to conscientious superhero genius is both moving and representative of real repentance which, as my little girls say, is "changing to be good." The thing that impresses me the most about it is his total change of heart and aggressive action to correct not a bad social situation like Batman, but the consequences of his wrong choices. Iron man doesn't become, at least in this movie, a vigilante crusader against all things evil. He has a specific mission to remedy the harm he has caused by not caring about the right things.

So where does King Arthur come in? He doesn't. But Lancelot does. In The Once and Future King, White describes Lancelot as a man who does so many good works because of his own dark nature. He enjoys hurting people and is filled with lust and envy. To combat these things, he establishes for himself a rigorous code of conduct that prevents him from acting on any of his base impulses.

These two ideas combined and came to a head in the first scene in Iron Man in which the title character takes action in his new cause. I have rarely had a more powerful experience with film, but I don't think everyone would have the same kind of feeling I did in that moment. To me, it represented a moment of decision, in which past transgressions and the natural man were overcome by the sheer force of will. I was going to say "human will," but that would be wrong. While the decision to repent and change is ours, Stark acknowledges later in the film that he would not be living if not for a higher purpose than his own. He cites his knowledge of this as his motivation for his new life. I think we can learn from that.

LDS FF '09

It's been a while, but that's for good reason. I think many of us are moving into a phase of life right now, whether because of the time of year or the kinds of things we're involved in.

Just to keep the spirit alive here, I wanted to post this announcement for those who may not be aware that the LDS Film Festival has issued a call for entries for 2009. Click the link for guidelines and details.

LDS Audience Improvement

I have a question. It may be an old question, but I think it bears repeating. I suppose I'm asking this in tandem with this post from A Motley Vision. My scope is narrower as a result of being specific to this blog's audience. The assumption I'm basing my question on is that Latter-day Saints tend to view cinema in largely the same that the world presents it. We may or may not be more discriminating in what we will partake of, but we generally go for the same things in terms of what motivates us to see a movie and what reasons we give for thinking it worthwhile. We, as a people, tend to consider film watching a pastime - a break from the other parts of our lives. We go see movies for fun or for something to do and we think we had a worthwhile experience when the movie was exciting, we laughed a lot, there were cool special effects, the acting was good, we cried, there was some moral lesson, the company was enjoyable, and/or suchlike. I know there are strong opinions otherwise held by some who read this blog, but I'm speaking generally. This is my basic assumption.

It seems to me that a lot of thoughtful LDS filmmakers would like to change the way audiences approach the viewing experience. There is an apparent disconnect between the intentions of those who make the films and those who view them. My question is this: should this disparity be resolved and, if so, how? How can the LDS audience be improved?

We talk a lot about improving the art and the artists, but it seems to me that neither will flourish as readily without an equally improved audience. With whom does the onus for changing the perceptions of the audience lie? It is, in my opinion, a necessarily gradual process, but I was hoping we could have a discussion about that and what you all think can be done.

Art in the Midst of Artifice

I ran across a video on YouTube that I absolutely loved. It was a performance by Paul Potts of one of the most beautiful songs I know, Nessun Dorma. True it was on Brittain's Got Talent, a show of the type that I have a general disdain for, and true, the sweeping camera moves were mightily distracting, but the beauty of the music combined with the humility of the singer (both in background and in character) was overwhelming. It was filled with light. It was art.

I have marveled since at how powerfully that light penetrated my being. I have heard this song outside of the context of its opera before, but the last time it was sung by a man who, in my interactions with him that day, was arrogant, impatient, and condescending. To me, that tarnished the experience. Plus, the performance had a "look how amazing I am" tone to it. Mr. Potts never approached that attitude, although I have found such shows as the one that featured him to nurture the vice. His singing was service. It edified both him and the audience and they rejoiced together. He didn't do it (at least discernibly) for the attention.

I mentioned the camera moves. They were terrible. But the performance maintained its purity in spite of them. It also fended off the general clutter of YouTube, including an adjacent thumbnail ad for a video featuring topless photos of a well known celebrity. I normally find such things so offensive that I don't allow them any presence on my computer screen, but in this case it and all the other distractions were eclipsed by the purity (I'll use the word again) of the performance.

Perhaps it was a spiritual connection that I needed at the time, but it came back when I showed the video to my wife and children hours later. I originally came across it quite by accident, as I don't normally peruse YouTube. Maybe that had something to do with it.

Whatever it was, the experience is altering and improving, I hope, my ideas about art. I experienced how a single, unintentional, perhaps even unconscious element of a production can connect so powerfully with an audience that everything calculated and conditioned falls into insignificance. That element becomes art and the rest is just trappings. The art represents the soul of the artist as expressed through his art. It opens the spiritual channel that we've discussed here before. This reminds me of the mission I served, where I was taught that my imperfections as a messenger could be brought to naught through spiritual communication. Born of sincerity, this connection is, to my mind, wrought more by the tools that build character than the tools that build a film, or a vocal performance, or any other thing perceptible to the five senses. I wonder if we can't take a lesson from Mr. Potts' example of humility and apply it to our making and viewing of film.