The Festival Snowballs

19 movies in. 5 movies per day. Not nearly enough sleep. The movies are finally starting to bleed together.

It’s happening in a good way. In a cool way. In a social experiment sort of way. Characters from one movie are confused with another. Ideas that are set up in the 10:00 film are paying off in the 5:00 film. Locations are starting to blur. It’s all turning into one big mushy ball of organic matter. But fun nonetheless.

Examples:

- in Zift, a film title which literally translates to shit, I find myself thinking that there a few too many poop and fart jokes. The best of them is when a character visits London where there is literally dog crap on the sidewalk everywhere he goes. Then I remember: that bit wasn’t in Zift at all. It was an old gag referenced with respect to an Aussie Ocker comedy in Not Quite Hollywood.

- Zift again. I get a sense that our female protagonist will betray and devour the hero and recall some foreshadowing to that effect. Suddenly I can’t remember if said foreshadowing was in this film or not (turns out it was.)

- in Brothers Bloom, it becomes apparent that one of the principle themes of the movie is storytelling, which helps to explain all the random side-bar anecdotes that pepper the first half of the movie. Except the tangents I’m thinking of happened in Zift.

- Evangeline Lilly sits in front of me at the premiere screening of The Wrestler and then turns in a bit part in Kathryn Bigelow’s Hurt Locker. For a moment I’m confused. Was Mickey Rourke fighting in Iraq?

I’m dead serious about all this. These are the sort of sharp angles that my brain has been cutting in the last two days. And so it goes.

May the movie gods help me when actors begin to cross over from movie to movie (due to begin happening shortly).