Lance Mackey talks Iditarod in Willow (2011).
Lance Mackey talks Iditarod in Willow (2011).
MUSH has been invited to screen at the 3rd Annual Skagway Winter Weekend Film Festival in Skagway, Alaska.
The Festival is February 18th-20th; MUSH screens Saturday Feb. 19th at 9pm. If you’re in town, don’t miss the other films — including Journey on the Wild Coast (and hang out for the Q&A with Journey director Greg Chaney, too).
New poster in honor of the Skagway screening:
More screenings to come…
Anchorage International Film Festival Diary (part 3)
I wake up early enough to shave (if I’m gonna be on TV, I probably should shave) and finally figure out how how easy it is to get to the Bear Tooth. Taavi is there and we talk about what he should see and do while he’s in Anchorage. The TV crew shows up and interviews all the Snowdance filmmakers — including the Beekeeper guys (who again arrive in a pack). While I’m there, they do a projection check of my movie and I’m thrilled to see how good it looks on the big screen.
I get back to the theater about 45 minutes before the screening and I’m thrilled to see a huge number of people already lined up to get in. I do a quick interview with Robert Forto from Dog Works Radio in the lobby; he’s moved up to Willow from Colorado to train for a 2013 Iditarod run. I’m impressed by his digital audio recorder, which resembles an old-time radio microphone.
A bunch of the people I interviewed for the movie are there and I’m thrilled to see the movie with a packed theaterful of Alaskans. The short A Portrait of Nikolai screens first — it’s a fantastic look at a changing community put together by a group of Nikolai teens enrolled in a summer filmmaking workshop. More than once I find myself wishing I’d had their equipment! (And more than once I feel guilty about that wish.)
The movie starts and I’m sitting in the back with my friend Jaime. Sue Allen, Mike Suprenant, Larry Williams, and John “The Poodleman” Suter (mushers I interviewed for the movie) are all here. Mary & Janetta (who used to run the B&B where my wife and I stayed the first time we came to Alaska) are here too — although I don’t get a chance to really talk to them. I’ve seen the movie so often I think I might know it all by heart and as it unfolds I’m bombarded with memories of filming the scenes and the months of postproduction on the movie. It looks good on the big screen and I’m relieved to hear people laughing at (most) of the things I thought they would laugh at. (It’s also interesting that a few things get much bigger laughs from Alaskans than I expected.) More importantly, everyone is completely engaged and caught up in the movie. I’ve got too much nervous energy to sit still, so I find myself wandering in the back of the theater, lurking for on different sides, scanning the audience and watching them watch the movie.
It’s over quickly and I go up (along with the Nikolai filmmakers) for a Q&A. The audience seems totally engaged and really into it. People come up to me afterwards and in the lobby and I feel like a rock star (even if it’s just temporary). More than one person tells me it’s hard to believe a non-Alaskan made a movie that captured the spirit of Alaska so well (which is just about the highest praise I could ask for).
I have dinner with my friend Jeanne Devon from the Mudflats blog and we indulge in pumpkin pie martinis. I’m completely exhausted but totally wired and happy. The feeling of seeing something that for years has only existed in my mind become a tangible thing that other people can experience is completely wonderful.
The rest of the trip is a blur: the next day I wander back downtown, stop and say hi to my new Facebook friend Star, have breakfast at the Snow City Cafe, walk back to the sled dog statue on 4th Avenue (that marks the start of the Iditarod), pop into a Starbucks to check email and run into Larry Williams (an ex-musher who’s in the movie; he and John Suter are developing a movie based partially on Suter’s experience running the Iditarod with a team of Standard Poodles) — we have a great talk, then I’m off to meet Peter Dunlap-Shohl (who directed the fantastic animated short Oblivion 1964) for coffee, chat with several filmmakers who just got into town, have a great conversation with director Erik Knudsen (not to be confused with SAW actor Erik Knudsen; I’m sorry I missed Erik’s workshop “Cinema of Poverty: Independence and Simplicity in an Age of Abundance and Complexity” and his interesting movie “The Silent Accomplice,” which follows water on its journey from a spring out to the sea”), watch Stephen Greenberg’s do “A Life Ascending” (the story of a mountaineering guide in the mountains of British Columbia), then head over to Out North for a sold-out screening of Journey on the Wild Coast, about a married couple who hiked, kayaked, and skied 4000 miles from Seattle to the Aleutian Islands. I had talked before with Journey director Greg Chaney, who sifted through hundreds of hours of footage shot by the couple to make the movie (for details, click here). Volunteer coordinator (and all-around amazing person) Beth managed to snag me an AIFF t-shirt from a previous year that I admired — and she squeezes me into the packed theater so I can see the movie. More than one person I’ve met has said that Beth should be a line producer (or maybe a fixer in some war-torn country) because of her amazing ability to get the impossible done almost immediately.
From there, it’s back to the airport — where the TSA agents run my back through the X-Ray machine three times and gather around to stare at it. I realize they’re looking at some of the film festival Swag — a pair of handcuffs promoting a film that AIFF distributed to all visiting filmmakers. I start to say something, but the TSA agents just smirk, raise their eyebrows, and let me through.
My overnight flight from Anchorage to Seattle is fairly empty, so I get an entire row to myself and sleep most of the way. I’ve got a 5-hour layover at SeaTac, which I spend working (thanks, free wifi) before I catch my flight back to LA (I sleep through most of that one, too). I wake up just before we land, watching the sun shine brightly off the sandy beaches.
I know I’m still mostly in Alaska, because all I can think is: “How great — it snowed here too.”
Thanks for an amazing weekend, Anchorage!
Anchorage International Film Festival Diary (part 2)
Cool movies and cool people: Andrew Thomas took footage Ralph J. Gleason shot nearly 40 years ago of Vince Guaraldi, shot a bunch of new interviews with jazz artists and cultural figures to make The Anatomy of Vince Guaraldi. It’s only showing once, so I trudge over to the Out North Theater (getting massively lost as usual) to watch it Saturday afternoon.
All I know about Vince Guaraldi is that he did the music for the Peanuts specials, so the movie is a treat — and includes lots of interesting material about Guaraldi, jazz in general, and the counterculture of the 60s and early 70s. The Q&A after is fascinating — Thomas lost his house and sunk the last of his money into making the movie.
Later, I get massively lost (again) heading over to the Bear Tooth, where I watch The Temptation of St. Tony, an Estonian art-house movie that has a lot of early buzz. The movie is a classic film festival selection — a surrealistic foreign film gorgeously shot in black and white and filled with plot details that don’t entirely make sense, but hint at some greater commentary about society. After the screening, I hand out MUSH postcards to the exiting crowd. St. Tony is a polarizing movie — half the crowd completely loves it and the other half hates it with a vengeance. Several people ask me to explain to them what happened and what it all means. Later, I chat with lead actor Taavi Eelmaa; he’s in Anchorage to represent the film — and is lighthearted, colorful, charming, and fun (pretty much the exact opposite of his movie).
After a while, I wander over to the Spenard Roadhouse after for an AIFF party. I’m tired, so I doubt I’ll stay long, but the cupcake caterers advise me on cupcake flavors to compliment my beer and then I keep meeting fascinating people. I talk with Andrew Thomas about his time at Rhino Records, meet a bunch of the crew from The Beekeepers (who always seem to travel in packs), talk to a bunch of staff people from the festival (who tell me the presales on MUSH are very good and ask if I can show up at 11 the next morning for a TV interview), and wind up staying much longer than I’d planned. As I’m leaving, I run into Shannyn Moore, who gave me an interview in March for my movie (and had me on her radio show on Friday). She’s surprised I didn’t cut her out of the film. (That surprises me; when I asked her for an interview I didn’t know what exactly she’d say, but I was sure it would be great and would help represent the importance of the Iditarod to Alaska and Alaskans.) We talk for a bit and I tell her the Scott White story — which might just be my favorite thing in the movie.
When I leave, my car is the only one left in the parking lot — so much for just dropping by the party briefly. I find my way back to the hotel and catch up with a bunch of filmmakers and festival people in the bar. I trade screeners with Chris Brown (who directed the much buzzed-about Fanny, Annie, and Danny), which I missed because it was showing at the same time as The Anatomy of Vince Guaraldi. (More to come…)
Anchorage International Film Festival Diary (part 1)
70 plus in Los Angeles when I leave. 8 degrees in Anchorage when I land.
But I’ve pledged never again to complain about weather warmer than 30 below, so I put on my winter jacket and make sure my rental car has a snow scraper. (It’s forecast to snow every day I’m in Alaska.)
After a few hours of sleep, I wake up early and make the 5-minute walk into downtown so I can put postcards in various coffee shops and the Iditarod store in the 5th Avenue mall. It’s all part of the drill when you are your own street team.
I’m thinking about a million things I have to do when I look up and spot a reindeer. The sun isn’t up yet, so I stop in my tracks, trying to process what I’m seeing. It takes about 30 seconds to realize I’m not dreaming or hallucinating. There really is a reindeer right in front of me, behind a fence near the big “park strip” in the center of town. (It used to be the airport decades ago, but Anchorage turned it into a park when they relocated the airport a few miles Southwest.)
A sign on the fence lets me know this is Star the Reindeer and urges me to become Facebook friends with him. I smile. Who wouldn’t want to be Facebook friends with Star the Reindeer?
The Anchorage International Film Festival staff and volunteers are all amazing. Hospitality Czar Don sets up an online interview and I set up a bunch of radio and TV appearances to talk about MUSH. I meet a bunch of cool filmmakers in from all over the world, most of the AIFF programmers and staff.
I tell all the Alaskans that I was married above the Arctic Circle in Coldfoot (on the Haul Road) and they all agree that this semi-qualifies me as an honorary Alaskan. I’ll take what I can get.
Lots of press — websites, two TV stations, a radio interview, a couple of print journalists. I drive north of Anchorage listening to the new Ben Folds/Nick Hornby album and get a surrealistic jolt when the song “Levi Johnston’s Blues” starts up just as I enter Wasilla. At the nearly empty headquarters of the Iditarod Trail Committee, I stop in front of the statue of Joe Redington, Sr. for a long time. If it weren’t for him there wouldn’t be an Iditarod and I wouldn’t be here, so I give silent thanks (and then leave some postcards in the entryway). I brought my video camera and a still camera, but they stay in the car. I’ve already got lots pictures and video — and this isn’t the time to get more.
The Opening Night Gala features a screening of The Wild Hunt (adults role-play as Vikings and Elves in the middle of a forest and a love triangle ends with tragic violence) at the Bear Tooth TheaterPub, which features dozens of craft-brewed beers on tap and homemade pizza. As the staff presents clips from some of the films and introduces filmmakers, I look around the place. The Bear Tooth is impressive — huge screen, good sound, and a capacity of nearly 500 including the balcony. This is where MUSH will premiere in less than 48 hours.
After midnight, I discover that my rented Yaris has a warning light to indicate when it’s skidding. Because really, when you’re skidding, what you really need is a warning light to distract you. I drive slowly to the hotel as huge wet snowflakes fall.
Hanging out with a few of the filmmakers and AIFF staff in the hotel bar, I realize I’m exhausted, but thrilled to be back in Alaska. (More to come…)