Sundance Blazin' Baby

The Sundance Film Festival has now come to an end. Unfortunately, my film, "Shit Into Fertilizer" didn't win any awards. As a matter of fact, only two people attended one of it's showings. The audience was Marlee Matlin and her interpreter. They left 20 minutes into the film because the interpreters hands were "tired" (if you know what I mean...nudge nudge). Gee...I hope that isn't offensive to deaf people.

Independent film festivals are interesting things. Thousands of people show up to a small town in the middle of winter in a state they never would admit to being found dead in. Actually, they go out of their way to wear the correct footwear so they can say to others that they actually never "set foot" in the state. Another interesting thing is they are seen wearing expensive ski clothing but never go skiing. Although you can find some celebrities at charitable ski events but they are usually doing interviews at the bottom of the hill. The interview typically is like this:

Reporter: Hey Ms. Big Shot what a wonderful thing it is for you to come out to this charity event.
Ms. Big Shot: Yes, it is just a neat thing to do things like this for the kids. We must do more things for the kids. The kids need more things where we all show up and work on things for the kids. I just love the kids. The kids need us...and this...for the kids. Save the kids! *peace sign*
Reporter: But this charity is to permanently eradicate erectile dysfunction in older giraffes.
Ms. Big Shot: Oh...ummm...but I bet if that is done away then they can have kids...then we will fight to save those kids.

They also walk around town talking about how wonderful the films are but actually never see them. The reason for this is no one can see THEM while sitting in a dark theater. Then they get in front of the cameras and discuss the artitistic merits and how a certain film, the one about that "one person who did that one thing", pushed against the society established morals by breaking new ground. After some more photo opportunities they head back to the "bars" and sit and talk with their friends about how Power Rangers SPD would kick Power Rangers Dino Thunders Ass.

What about my film?

It is was a dramatic creation of a mans fight against forces which ally against him in a formal struggle of ones contradicting beliefs and the society that controls the underlying sentiment to do a specific action or succumb to consequences that leaves the man with no actual freewill even though conspiratorial agencies subtley portray a faux reflection of himself allowing him to feel he still retains such freedoms. Yes...I didn't understand it either but that is how the summary was written in the film festival guide. In my own words, the flim is about the thoughts of a man who needs to clean up some dog crap on his lawn.

My movie was filmed in black and white with a handheld camera so it has that shaky movement giving it a true independent feel to it. It opens zoomed in on the handle of the front door of a house in a lower middle class neighborhood. It is a cold day and the smoke from the nearby steel factory casts a dark gloom.

The camera pulls back revealing the full door which is now being opened. Out steps a man in his mid-40's who has obviously just woke up from sleep. He is in a bathrobe, mocassin slippers, and holding a freshly brewed cup of coffee in one hand which also holds a freshly lit cigarette between two fingers.

He walks down his porch steps then down the path that leads to the front of his yard. At the end of the path lies a newspaper. The paper is picked up then the man turns around and looks at a spot on his lawn. Laying there in his lawn is a freshly dropped pile of dog crap. The heat of it still creating steam in the cold air.

The man stands staring at that spot with a blank expression on his face. He knows it is not his; he has no dog. All he can do, as if some invisible agent keeps him from being able to move, is stare at it. It becomes evident he will stand motionless for a long time with his newspaper being held in one hand his coffee and smoldering cigarette in the other. He is transfixed.

Through the course of the morning friends and neighbors come by. Curiousity claim them as they, too, stand beside the man. They are transfixed by the pile of animal waste on the ground. The people try to talk to the man, yet they keep their eyes on the ground. The conversation is one way; the man doesn't respond.

"Whose dog did this? How did it come to be here? Why haven't you cleaned it up? Why is it on the lawn and not somewhere else? What kind of dog was it?" they say among other somewhat rhetorical questions. The man still doesn't speak as the others pepper him with nonstop questions.

A gay frenchman and an italian join the gathering crowd. A true independent film MUST have gay's and foreigners. The frenchman asks, "Quel est cet idiot fait?" then the Italian responds, "Guarda lo shit. " The frenchman adds, "Oui." After which they add their eyes to the fecal stain on the grass.

Others join the group, men, women and children. Some mock him while others defend him. However, through all this the man stands still, seemingly ignoring them.

As lunchtime approaches the man becomes hungry. He finally moves by looking at his cup of coffee and the cigarette that has long gone out. He notices his paper in the other hand.

He kneels down, scoops the poop up in his paper, walks over to his trashcan, throws everything away, including the coffee cup, then walks into his house.

The crowd watches in unison all of the mans actions while standing in their spots. After the door closes the others look at each other as if wondering what to do. No one offers a suggestion so they disburse and go back to their homes.

The camera isolates the door of the house and zooms into the door knob. Fade to black.

What do you think? Please comment in an appropriate "Independent Film Festival Critic" way. Then go see my film. It hits theaters nationwide this weekend.