Your faithful correspondent has been hard at work, my fellow Milwaukeeans, imperiling his circadian clock by devoting daylight to dark theaters so that he may streamline your MFF 2017 experience with considered recommendations. But before we get to the films, some thoughts about the festival in general.
Having sat through nearly ten iterations of this year’s pre-program, I am relieved to note that some variety has mercifully been worked in, with slightly different versions of advertisements to keep things from getting stale too quickly.
A note to Milwaukee Film’s Development Director: surely there must be a local optometrist who would be keen to sponsor the sponsorship slides themselves. As the handful of names of “Donors” (i.e. those who have given $20,000) give way to the illegible mass of names on the “Festival Fans” slide (i.e. those with a $65 basic membership), I’m thinking there should be an announcement to the effect of: “Milwaukee Film suggests that anyone unable to recite the names of our Movie Moguls ($2,000) see ________ for a discounted eye exam.”
And finally, from the complaints department: can we take a moment to discuss the scourge of eating at the movies? I realize that as a misophone I am in the overwhelming minority here, but I find the selling and consumption of popcorn to be both a blight and hypocrisy.
As to the blight: am I the only one driven to distraction by the horrific sound of someone repeatedly stuffing their gaping maw with handfuls of crunchy vessels of butter and salt? Am I the only one who experiences each crunch as an electrical shock directly to the brain?
As for the hypocrisy: if the atrocity of popcorn is to continue at least spare me the sanctimonious “no texting or talking during the movie because it’s rude to your neighbors” warning before each screening. How can I avoid the inevitable conclusion that popcorn is permitted while texting is prohibited only because of the former’s ridiculous profit margins? A modest proposal, then: simply charge people for the privilege of texting during films.
But enough of my kvetching. Let’s get to the recommendations.
Stumped is a documentary telling the extraordinary tale of Will Lautzenheimer who, two days into a new job teaching film at Montana State University, was stricken by an aggressive staph infection that necessitated the amputation of all four limbs. The documentary picks up post-amputation to find Will and those closest to him adjusting to their new status quo. Stumped is a portrait of the indomitability of the human spirit, the redemptive power of humor and the marvel of contemporary medical technology.
“Shorts: The Best Damn F*#@ing Midnight Program Ever. Sh*t.” never disappoints and has consequently inspired some truly dedicated fans. The woman sitting next to me was wearing sunglasses, which, she explained, were to mitigate the debilitating symptoms of a migraine. Fortified by a nap, caffeine pill and lots of water, she was not prepared to let her ticket go to waste. Among this year’s memorable shorts are a crack-fueled robbery fail, an animated vagina errant and a Halloween hook-up with a mime beneath a ghost costume.
The Ballad of Lefty Brown is a conventional Western that hits all its marks. The characters are somewhat stock – shifty politicians, greasy gunfighters, eager and idolatrous young’uns, fallen U.S. Marshals with a weakness for whiskey – but the overall experience is nevertheless engaging, especially Bill Pullman’s turn as the eponymous, hapless Lefty.
Esteban tells the story of nine-year old Esteban and his single mother, who struggle to make ends meet in Havana. Esteban discovers a passion and preternatural gift for the piano, but must negotiate the Scylla and Charybdis of his cash-strapped mother and a curmudgeonly teacher.
“Found Footage Festival: After Dark” only received a single showing at the festival and you’ve already missed it. Perhaps this sole screening is due to the fact that collectors/directors/compilers Nick Prueher and Joe Pickett had to continue their globe-trotting mission to spread lossy VHS glad tidings and thus couldn’t stick around all week to deliver a second “Mystery Science Theater 3000”-style presentation of the Found Footage Festival. Equally plausible, is that Milwaukee Film, in its infinite wisdom, knew that they could only sneak one showing past the decency censors. Whatever the reason, the images seen at “Found Footage Festival: After Dark” will not be soon forgotten, no matter how hard we attendees may try. Seemingly innocent phrases such as “something’s happening” have been endowed with the power of ipecac.
“Shorts: That’s Life” collects six short films that capture cross-sections of life in all its tragic and comic glory. The shorts range from the fictional to the documentary to the historically-based, leading the viewer on an empathy-inducing tour de force through the lives of others.
Love and Saucers is a documentary about David Huggins, an unassuming Hoboken-ite who claims to have experienced multiple alien abductions over the course of his life. If at first you are inclined to declare “Fake news. Sad,” you’ll be delighted to discover how compelling and charming David Huggins actually is. First, there is his matter-of-fact manner of telling his truth. He simply states the facts as he understands them, indifferent to whether anyone believes him. Second, there are his paintings – beautifully conceived and realized representations of his multiple encounters with extraterrestrials, many of which are of a overtly sexual nature.
