ROGER EBERTS OVERLOOKED FILM FESTIVAL

Saturday, April 26, 2003
By Steven Snyder

On this, the last full day of Roger Ebert’s Overlooked Film Festival, it is becoming more apparent to me what I treasure about this extended weekend: time. By setting aside five days to see and discuss these movies, I am giving myself the luxury of having the time to appreciate them. Sometimes when I review films, I must write my essays the same night as the movie. Think about that. With so little time to digest, many reviews become grounded in first impressions, and then I must move on to the next piece.

But not here in Champaign. I will see over a dozen films in half a week, and I’m loving it. Here, I have the time to become absorbed, to turn off the cell phone and to not only listen to Ebert and others discuss the films, but then carry on my own debates between each screening.

For me, today at Ebertfest was Sundance Day – a day of independent features that Ebert has chosen and wants to share with the packed Virginia Theatre. I approached the festival in a different manner today as well. Yesterday, with several older features, I had to view them in a different light—accepting the irregularities that accompany five, ten and twenty year-old films. Today, the selected films were smaller and more obscure. I particularly was intrigued by the selection of “Charlotte Sometimes,” a movie that Ebert discovered at the Hawaii Film Festival and chose to promote with his own fest here today.

And, as one screening after another ticked by, I found myself again in awe of the magic that movies possess. They can unite a theatre in tears and in laughter, and can send you away reenergized – proving again that cinema is, without question, the most powerful art from in existence.

“Shall We Dance”

One message behind Ebert’s festival this year is that successful films do not always need to be obtuse, edgy affairs. “The Right Stuff,” on the first night, was a mainstream Hollywood film. “Singin’ In The Rain” is generally considered to be a classic. I personally believe it is the best musical ever made.
Yesterday, with “What’s Cooking?,” we were fortunate to see a film about families and holidays. And today, with “Shall We Dance,” I felt treated by another film that initially seems so simple, but is made with an extraordinary level of skill of grace.

It is a Japanese film about middle-aged people who feel as if something is missing from their lives. One of these people is Shohei Sugiyama (Koji Yakusho), an office worker who finds himself enamored with a woman in a window whom he sees every night from the subway on his way home.
He pursues that window one day, only to find that it is a dance studio, and that the woman is a dance instructor. He begins to take up dance in hopes of winning her affection, but then finds himself making tremendous friends with those in the class and falling in love with the dance steps he is learning.

There is so much warmth to this film that I wanted to reach out and hug these characters. There were moments of laughter when the theater lost full sentences of dialogue because we could not stop our chuckling. And there is a moment near the film’s end, preceding a glorious final dance sequence, when I felt goose bumps race up and down my skin. “Shall We Dance” is a film that should not be overlooked.

Maybe it is the subtitles that turn people off. But, to be honest, after about half an hour, I stopped caring about the reading. I was so caught up in these people and their stories that I was anxious for the next line of dialogue. Sometimes, I would look down at the bottom of the screen even before the text appeared because I was dying to know what this man or this woman was saying. Much like a great book, I could not wait for the next line to keep the story moving.

“Shall We Dance” is not perfect. At times, it suffers from a lack of intimacy, as characters deliver extended soliloquies that break the closeness of what preceded them. But it also has the magic of characters that we can all relate to and the beauty of dancing that transcends what can ever be captured in a book or in a painting.

The characters connect to us because they are not scripted personalities. Sugiyama is embarrassed by what he is doing. He must hide the truth of his nightly lessons from his wife and his coworkers. He is flirting with the possibility of cheating on his wife, but embraces emotions when he feels them. The friends he meets have flaws, some cute and some ugly. And, once the film reaches a dance competition that promises to be a feel-good conclusion, “Shall We Dance” again diverts in directions that we could never have expected.

The dance scenes are reminiscent of “Singin’ In The Rain,” where the camera works its way into the action, but also backs off to establish the full picture of what is occurring. As two people, on an open dance floor, waltz and glide and dip, we feel the almost zen-like connection that is taking place. These two people, touching, moving as one with the music and with the others on the dance floor- it’s enough to make your want to get up and dance yourself. My favorite moment of “Shall We Dance” occurs near the end, as the music fades into the background and we see a packed dance floor all moving in synch. They are sharing something communal, and in that moment we sense the spark of life itself.

The post-film discussion, with film professor David Bordwell from the University of Wisconsin at Madison, addressed this intangible magic that exists throughout the film. It is something that many American films lack, and is the reason that many connect so strongly with Japanese cinema. It offers something we cannot feel anywhere else.
They also discussed other Japanese films, including the brilliant animated film “Spirited Away,” which won an Oscar and was just released on video and DVD, as well as the brilliant Japanese director Yasujiro Ozu, who has been tragically overlooked by the global film community.

“Charlotte Sometimes”

I cannot say enough about the independent, soon-to-be-released film “Charlotte Sometimes.” This is a brilliant independent film, discovered by Ebert at the Hawaii Film Festival, about four young adults and the pain that goes hand-in-hand with their search for love. Each of these characters seems real and complex. Some are attracted to each other but won’t admit. Some are disguising sex as love. Others are only involved with one person to make another jealous. And, above all, each character is searching for that happiness that they are never able to find.

In the festival’s program notes, Ebert says that this movie is what film festivals are all about for him—discovering great new works by unknown filmmakers. And I must again agree with him completely in regards to this masterpiece. To think that “Charlotte Sometimes” might never have been seen by audiences, might never have touched people the way it touched Ebert and myself, is appalling. When considered against the likes of “Jackass The Movie,” “Charlotte Sometimes” is pure gold.

It is the kind of film that cannot be judged free form personal experience. There is so much occurring between these characters that will only seem real if the viewer has experienced some level of it in their lives. I am at a time in my life when surprises are occurring constantly. I am learning new things about myself everyday. I am dealing with new issues regarding romance and affection that I never before contemplated. And, in that vein, “Charlotte Sometimes” seemed perfectly natural. It touched on the issues that I have been grappling with, and is honest enough to say that there are no easy answers to this elusive thing called love.

In the post-film discussion, the director and the stars of the film discussed the worsening scarcity of roles for Asian-Americans. They also discussed the power of this film, attributing its success to its willingness to leave so much unsaid. The director reflected on how some affiliated with the film wanted him to provide voice-over to explain unclear items to the audience. Instead, he stuck to his guns and kept part of the film a mystery. The result is a movie that is widely debated by those who see it – a movie that seems alive and fresh, and refuses to be confined by expectations or genres.

“Charlotte Sometimes” is a brilliant movie. It is about irrational, unexplainable life and it seems so real because it does not attempt to filter out the complexity. We love these characters, and are riveted by what will become of their dreams and their hearts. And, although the path is anything but what we expect, we embrace the randomness and irrationality because, in some sense, we have experienced that craziness ourselves.

“ Thirteen Conversations About One Thing”

When I first saw “Thirteen Conversations About One Thing,” I claimed it was a film that could change a person’s life – maybe not in the dramatic sense, but on a small scale. When I saw it almost a year ago, it was with about ten other people in a Minneapolis movie theater.

Since Ebert chose this film as one of his selections for this festival, I have been waiting for the moment to see it in the packed Virginia Theatre. I have wanted to hear other’s reactions, feel the connection with those who love the film as much as I do and hear the thoughts of the film’s writers and directors: Jill and Karen Sprecher (“Clockwatchers”). Both natives of Madison, Wisconsin, I have had nothing but profound respect for these sisters who went out to Hollywood and have made quiet, character-oriented films on their own terms.

“Thirteen Conversations” is a movie about real people and real lives. Many are shockingly unhappy and have lost the ambition they once hade to live. Over the course of the film, each is challenged by something that threatens to destroy them, and the hope that I found in this film derived from each character’s ability to find a way to move forward. In thirteen separate vignettes, these people slowly find ways to reach out to those around them, to confront the demons that have nearly consumed them. And the final gesture of the film is a moment that will always remain with me – the simplest of social pleasantries that can have a profound impact in a world where people seem more concerned in creating barriers with their cell phones than breaking those barriers with empathy for their fellow man.

So what did this particular screening add to the movie?

I discovered a newfound respect for the intelligence behind the film’s construction. I have always found the film’s themes and ideas brilliant. But I now appreciate even more how the story is laid out. From one vignette and character to another, I now understand why the Sprechers did what they did when they did it. There is a flow to this story, as characters intersect and interact, that make the words mean more than they would on their own. And I think the fact that I enjoy this film more upon each viewing speaks to its power. It gets better the more I see and think about it.

The post-film discussion revealed some surprising facts. First, Alan Arkin, who plays one of the film’s leading characters, was integral to the movie’s success. He agreed early on to work on the project and his name led the filmmakers to land the remainder of the cast. And second, “Thirteen Conversations” almost did not happen at all. A day before filming began, the writers realized they had run out of money for the project. And, they were faced with the prospect of either halting filming to find the necessary funding or lying to those working on the film and trust that it would all work itself out. They chose option b, went to work, and sure enough, it all worked out in the end.

But it’s great to see “Thirteen Conversations About One Thing” succeed in the fashion it has. It was a reasonable box office success, was nominated for several awards and appeared on several critics’ top ten lists. To realize that these two women put everything they had into this film, risked so much, and came so close to seeing it all fall apart makes its resulting accolades that much more profound. Bravo!

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