2017 Middleburg Film Festival
Upon release of a film festival schedule, it is tempting to break it apart trying to squeeze in as many as five films a day. This allows for minimal times between screenings either rushing to another theater or squeezing in a moment to inhale a sandwich. Bringing yourself out of the details, with effort, you must remind yourself there is more to a film festival than the movies. At Cannes and Sundance, there are deals to be made. At Middleburg, on the other hand, there is an idyllic town to explore and enjoy. I pushed through the five films in a day last year. I also saw nothing of the town and missed a sunny, autumn day to maximize quantity.
Owen Glieberman, you may remember him from Entertainment Weekly, recommends in his book, Movie Freak: My Life Watching Movies, that one only attend three films a day and include any documentaries about music and/or musicians. This allows time for leisurely coffee breaks, lunch, ice cream, and observing the tenor and tempo of the festival. This year, I parsed out five films over two days. Granted, I saw a few of the listings before the festival such as Breathe, Faces Places, and I, Tonya, but there were still films to deliberately not attend so I could actually see the town.
It doesn’t take long to walk, let alone drive, the length of Washington Street, Middleburg’s main thoroughfare. Breaking with last year’s movie theater shut-in spree, I enjoyed a very nice lunch in one of the restaurants which maintained a steady line of customers, most of them in town to window shop and spend a few hours away from the Beltway where you can surmise most of them reside near. I’ll wager many of them were not even aware there was a film festival in town. Sure, signs were up and the event was on many lips, but these patrons would have strolled Middleburg’s streets regardless.
Owen Glieberman, you may remember him from Entertainment Weekly, recommends in his book, Movie Freak: My Life Watching Movies, that one only attend three films a day and include any documentaries about music and/or musicians. This allows time for leisurely coffee breaks, lunch, ice cream, and observing the tenor and tempo of the festival. This year, I parsed out five films over two days. Granted, I saw a few of the listings before the festival such as Breathe, Faces Places, and I, Tonya, but there were still films to deliberately not attend so I could actually see the town.
It doesn’t take long to walk, let alone drive, the length of Washington Street, Middleburg’s main thoroughfare. Breaking with last year’s movie theater shut-in spree, I enjoyed a very nice lunch in one of the restaurants which maintained a steady line of customers, most of them in town to window shop and spend a few hours away from the Beltway where you can surmise most of them reside near. I’ll wager many of them were not even aware there was a film festival in town. Sure, signs were up and the event was on many lips, but these patrons would have strolled Middleburg’s streets regardless.
I also experienced more ‘theater’ venues this year. Previously, I remained all day at The Hill School because I did not have to waste time screen-hopping but I also wanted to see the day’s full slate. This weekend, I started at The Hill School, but then progressed to the Middleburg Community Center and the Salamander Resort and Spa. The Hill School continues as reigning champion for chair comfort; they have the softest cushions and if you are close enough to the front of the line, you can sit in one of the tiered rows in the back rather than looking up at the screen from the floor level. The Community Center and Salamander are all floor level so you have to guess and hunt ensuring nobody taller than you is directly in front. The Community Center wins the award for having the most room for improvement next year. I understand venues are at a premium in a town hosting a population of 800 people, but I do not believe this building was ever designed to screen films.
The Salamander screening room appears to be the main ballroom. The valet parking lot was so impressive, the few Lexuses I saw looked shabby and out of place. Jaguars and limited edition Mercedes-Benz’s occupied most of the spots. You know the complimentary cups and carafes of coffee places like the Hampton and Holiday Inn provide somewhere near the lobby area? Well, for $5.00, you can also get a cup of coffee in a container a bit larger than a Dixie cup at the Salamander. No, I did not stay in one of their $700 a night rooms; I hope their in residence guests received free coffee with their stays.
Moving on from atmospherics, I had I, Tonya pegged as the festival’s best film going in. I saw it a few days before and it was fantastic. I rooted for Tonya Harding; I empathized with her. Margot Robbie’s accent was delightful and Allison Janney ensured herself a lock for a Best Supporting Actress nomination. I had no overwhelming desire to see it because I remember when it happened. I don’t relish movies about events I clearly remember watching on TV. But, I, Tonya is worth it even for the most knowledgeable scandal follower. Alas, of the films I saw, and there are a handful of word-of-mouth and buzzy films I did not see, Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri knocked my socks off.
The Salamander screening room appears to be the main ballroom. The valet parking lot was so impressive, the few Lexuses I saw looked shabby and out of place. Jaguars and limited edition Mercedes-Benz’s occupied most of the spots. You know the complimentary cups and carafes of coffee places like the Hampton and Holiday Inn provide somewhere near the lobby area? Well, for $5.00, you can also get a cup of coffee in a container a bit larger than a Dixie cup at the Salamander. No, I did not stay in one of their $700 a night rooms; I hope their in residence guests received free coffee with their stays.
Moving on from atmospherics, I had I, Tonya pegged as the festival’s best film going in. I saw it a few days before and it was fantastic. I rooted for Tonya Harding; I empathized with her. Margot Robbie’s accent was delightful and Allison Janney ensured herself a lock for a Best Supporting Actress nomination. I had no overwhelming desire to see it because I remember when it happened. I don’t relish movies about events I clearly remember watching on TV. But, I, Tonya is worth it even for the most knowledgeable scandal follower. Alas, of the films I saw, and there are a handful of word-of-mouth and buzzy films I did not see, Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri knocked my socks off.
I only see a few, maybe five, true masterpieces every year. This is out of the 300 or so movies I watch annually. Three Billboards is that Haley’s Comet of a film that may define one of my favorite films of the decade. It’s not just Frances McDormand’s harsh performance, which is impressive, but it's Martin McDonagh’s script, which made the audience laugh and shudder, usually during the same line. You already know McDonagh from In Bruges and Seven Psychopaths; a man with a name firmly planted on the ‘must see’ map. Sam Rockwell and Woody Harrelson provide the best supporting roles and Lucas Hedges pulls his weight as McDormand’s son. This is the same Oscar-nominated kid from Manchester by the Sea. The only film I gave full marks to, I was shocked to see it didn’t win the Audience Award as best of the festival. That honor went to Mudbound. I did not see Mudbound, but perhaps that film’s case was enhanced because director Dee Rees was in attendance for a Q&A and received a Visionary Award.
The rest of my slate didn’t knock me off my feet, but there were a few bright spots. Novitiate by first time director Margaret Betts is a fascinating exploration of young girls in the 1960s training to become brides of Christ and the documentary Faces Places (Villages, Visages) by Agnès Varda and JR was whimsical and profound. Faces Places is easily the best documentary I have seen this year. The next tier is occupied by Last Flag Flying, a road trip / buddy drama about three Vietnam vets played by Steve Carrell, Bryan Cranston, and Laurence Fishbourne, burying the body of an Iraq war vet. The bottom tier are two disappointments mostly because I love their directors. Todd Haynes made a forgettable kids tale called Wonderstruck that is so ho-hum I cannot believe it’s by the same guy who fashioned Carol. And the hardest film of all to swallow is Greta Gerwig’s first film, Lady Bird. I wanted Lady Bird to succeed so much. Frances Ha was a perfect film and watching Gerwig in Mistress America and Maggie’s Plan made me all the more excited to see what she could do behind the camera. It appears I am in the vast minority of those who do not care for Lady Bird, but I just did not connect with the mother/daughter, coming-of-age story about yearning to break free but feeling nostalgic about where you come from. It felt much longer than its advertised 93 minutes.
No worries. Three Billboards was enough to cover any and all feelings of disappointment. The audience not only cheered at the end, they erupted in applause after particular McDormand insult-laden soliloquies and when an obnoxious character sacrifices himself a bit to finally do the right thing. No characters were even speaking at the moment, but everyone clapped just watching the action unfold. I cannot remember the last time I was in an audience that did that.
The rest of my slate didn’t knock me off my feet, but there were a few bright spots. Novitiate by first time director Margaret Betts is a fascinating exploration of young girls in the 1960s training to become brides of Christ and the documentary Faces Places (Villages, Visages) by Agnès Varda and JR was whimsical and profound. Faces Places is easily the best documentary I have seen this year. The next tier is occupied by Last Flag Flying, a road trip / buddy drama about three Vietnam vets played by Steve Carrell, Bryan Cranston, and Laurence Fishbourne, burying the body of an Iraq war vet. The bottom tier are two disappointments mostly because I love their directors. Todd Haynes made a forgettable kids tale called Wonderstruck that is so ho-hum I cannot believe it’s by the same guy who fashioned Carol. And the hardest film of all to swallow is Greta Gerwig’s first film, Lady Bird. I wanted Lady Bird to succeed so much. Frances Ha was a perfect film and watching Gerwig in Mistress America and Maggie’s Plan made me all the more excited to see what she could do behind the camera. It appears I am in the vast minority of those who do not care for Lady Bird, but I just did not connect with the mother/daughter, coming-of-age story about yearning to break free but feeling nostalgic about where you come from. It felt much longer than its advertised 93 minutes.
No worries. Three Billboards was enough to cover any and all feelings of disappointment. The audience not only cheered at the end, they erupted in applause after particular McDormand insult-laden soliloquies and when an obnoxious character sacrifices himself a bit to finally do the right thing. No characters were even speaking at the moment, but everyone clapped just watching the action unfold. I cannot remember the last time I was in an audience that did that.
