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Beekman Webb just dropped by to let us know these young men will be playing two shows this Saturday (8/30) at The Foolish Frog, 8 & 10. Beek says these kids are going places and we'll take him at his word. Check out the video and imagine the damage they're capable of with instruments. See you at the Frog.

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My friend Kimberly – Beaufort born and bred – has been living in Japan for about two years now. Her husband, a Marine, is stationed there. Though they live some 500 miles from the earthquake/ tsunami damaged areas, Kimberly has a very personal take on the tragedy that's rocked this country she’s come to love. She’s given me permission to link to her blog,  “Only Gaijin on the Train.”

Here’s an excerpt from a recent post:

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My column for this issue was inspired by a game of Monopoly I played with my daughter Amelia one night last week. The conversation that unfolded during the game was so funny  – as conversations often are between children and adults – that I thought it might make a whimsical, light-hearted piece. But as I transcribed that conversation from memory the next day, it occurred to me that this episode was more than just funny... it was somewhat revelatory. I hope this column, which I've written as a "play" – and which is very close to our actual conversation, almost word-for-word – is a subtle (hopefully not TOO subtle) commentary on the way the very real forces of altruism and self-interest mingle in the human animal. The question it raises is one I think about a lot: How far apart are these impulses, really? Is it possible that altruism – if, for no other reason than that it makes us feel good – is just another form of self-interest? Does it matter? Probably not :-) Anyway, whether or not you give a fig for such "deep thoughts," I hope you'll enjoy this little effort. It was written with great love.

IF CHILDREN RAN THE REAL ESTATE INDUSTRY

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Just got back from a walk around my neighborhood on yet another radically gorgeous day. After a particularly wintry winter, this premature spring seems especially… special. Doesn’t it?

First, let me just say this: Pigeon Point is not everybody’s idea of the “perfect neighborhood.” But it is mine. Always has been. I longed to live here even before I knew it was a possibility. When some friends of ours decided to move to New Zealand suddenly, and needed to sell their house here quickly – just when we were looking – it seemed like kismet. (Especially since our credit was practically non-existent back then, and the house was “for sale by owner.”) At the time, we had a three-year-old publication and a one-year-old daughter.  We figured that by the time she was eight (and it was 10) we’d be wildly successful publishing moguls, and would have added on to our little cottage under the oaks. Amelia’s now pushing 10 and Lowcountry Weekly’s almost 12, and – well, you've heard about the publishing biz, and biz in general – we haven’t been able to swing that addition. Space is a little tight, but fortunately, I love these people I share it with, and not a day goes by that I don’t say a prayer of thanks that we’re still here under this roof together… still here in this wonderful, winsome, weird little neighborhood.

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So, I had this big ol' phone interview with Jonathan Green the other day. Yep, THE Jonathan Green, Lowcountry artist extraordinaire. He's coming to USCB for a lecture on March 4th, and I wanted to get the scoop about that and a bunch of other things. I was incredibly edgy all day as I awaited the appointed hour of our call. As the clock ticked ever-closer to 2 pm, I felt the butterflies multiplying exponentially in my stomach. I don't know about y'all, but famous people make me nervous. Even on the phone. No... especially on the phone. In person, you have that face-to-face potential to connect: It doesn't always work, but at least you've got a fighting chance. Over the phone, though? Ugh. I hate it. Throw in the fact that I had to put the phone on speaker and record the whole thing  – hoping against hope my technology wouldn't fail me – and you had the makings of a tense, not particularly natural, encounter.

Are you sweating yet? Well, calm down. It turned out fine. More than fine. In fact, I'm so excited about this interview, I'm posting it almost a week before it's out in print. Jonathan was open and friendly and absolutely nothing was off limits. Are you wondering why he's come home to the Lowcountry after 35-plus years? What he thinks about the proposed whopping big budget cuts – both state and federal – to the arts? How he feels about all those Jonathan Green copy cats out there? What he's passionate about now?  He answers all those questions and more, and some of his answers might surprise you. 

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We’ve had some terrific guest bloggers pinch-hitting for us throughout BIFF. Screenwriter/documentarian Teresa Bruce and SCAD film instructor Duncan Pittman have done marvelous work, keeping you up-close-and-personal with BIFF, while Mark Shaffer and I hobnobbed with the filmmakers like a couple of college kids on Spring Break. (Actually, Mark was working AND hobnobbing. I just hobnobbed.) I’m sure Duncan will be writing up last night’s Award Ceremony later today, and she’ll do a much better. more comprehensive, job than I could.

But as I sit here in the afterglow of the past few days, drinking my coffee and wishing I hadn’t stayed so late at last night’s wrap party, I am compelled to put down a few personal observations…

 First… I’m feeling incredibly fortunate this morning. Blessed, even. Publishing Lowcountry Weekly is not always easy, and seldom lucrative, but man… does it have its perks! For the past few days, I’ve been in the company of passionate, creative people from all across the country, enjoying the privilege of introducing them to our very special corner of the world.  The weather has been movie-set perfect, a fact that wasn’t lost on our festival attendees – several of whom told me they “can’t wait to shoot in Beaufort.” (Actor/director Benjamin Busch – you may know him from “The Wire” or “Generation Kill” – left his home in Central Michigan at five degrees below zero, and enjoyed watching his temperature gage creep up as he drove south, finally settling in at about 75 degrees.) I was so proud of Beaufort this week: its beauty, its grace, its inimitable hospitality… all its various kinds of warmth.

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So you thought the BIFF opening reception at the Arsenal was glam. Well tonight’s awards gala at the USCB performing arts center should top that. Not all the directors could make it to the opening, but almost all of them are coming to find out if they win. Here’s a sneak peek at who you might meet if you show up at 7pm for the cocktail hour before the show:

Straight from LA – the crew from Lt. Dan Band documentary will be out in force. Disney producer Jonathan Flora’s getting the Santini Patriot Spirit Award – from none other than Tom Berenger.

The New York contingent – you’ve got Ned Farr, whose feature “A Marine Story” kept the audience rapt until eleven last night. Then he still had the energy to celebrate with his family (a Beaufort connection) and new fans. Maria Cuomo Cole (yes that Cuomo) is rumored to be flying in to join director Kevin Breslin. She’s the producer part of the team that made “Living for 32” happen.

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If BIFF were the name of a 5 year old child, local character John McGowan would consider him a well-raised rascal.  Born in Beaufort in 2006, BIFF is the apple of John McGowan's eye.

"Another Success!" McGowan cheers, settling for a brief second into a lobby chair between screenings.

McGowan will be the first to tell you that has been involved with the BIFF since it was born. Like a dedicated guardian, he has watched it grow up and mature, and has devoted much time and energy to making sure little BIFF is raised right. 

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Winston-Salem has invaded Beaufort! 

Well, their student filmmakers have, that is. Among the impressive amount of student submissions at this year's BIFF, it is noticeable that the majority of them boast the alma mater credit of "The University of North Carolina School of the Arts." Located in Winston-Salem, North Carolina, NCSA  has produced a flock of new filmmakers who have migrated back to Beaufort in search of new audiences for new films.  Kate Miller, Coordinator of Film Festivals and Internships for the NCSA School of Filmmaking, proudly revealed to me that their students have made a strong showing at the BIFF over the years, and hold the record for walking away with the most Student awards for three years running. 

The crop of films from NCSA are nothing if not diverse and engaging: a stop motion animated critique on big media (Fully Poseable by Austin Taylor), a young woman's existential tango with the universe (Gravity by Megan Glass), a touching exploration of memory and maturity (A Moment by Raven Bradley), a richly woven, wild west melodrama (The Road Home by Scott Freije), and an OCD coming of age tale with Hitchcockian undertones (Digby by Bobby Crain). All of the films are equal parts humorous, touching, quirky, accessible, with strong and well intended stories. From a technical standpoint, the films display industry-level cinematography and production design, and impressive execution and direction despite modest student budgets. 

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Filmmaker Ned Farr was not trying to make a political movie. Rather, he was doing what every great storyteller should do: tell a story that has not been told, and tell it well. Coinciding with the recent overturn of Don't Ask, Don't Tell, A Marine Story's auspicious debut in a military town like Beaufort was timely in context, but a happy accident in location. So far, the reception has been very warm. When I spoke to Farr last night, he explained that his intentions were to tell an important story that was accessible to all, while also creating an acting vehicle for his wife, a working actress.  It was equally important for him to promote his wife's talent while also connecting with wide audiences. Farr blends indie filmmaker verve with sensitive handling of timely social commentary. The film is a touching outcry for respect for humanity and the honor and dedication of military service, regardless of sexual orientation. This isn't about a fear of "feather boas in foxholes," he explained, but about respecting human life and military service in all of its forms. Whatever your views, Farr's film urges you to look past labels and instead focus on the diverse humanity in our military that wears no label but American. 

– Duncan Pittman

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The Q&A following Angel Camouflaged  – a film which attracted a little over 400 film-goers (a record for the festival so far!) – exemplified the traditional spirit of teamwork and grassroots support that indie films necessitate and celebrate. Filmmaker Michael Givens, wife Nicole, and the film's cast and crew filled the stage. When asked by the audience if the crew members were all "experienced Hollywood types," Givens offered a friendly chuckle and assured them that, "no, they're better than that." Nicole Givens was equally candid about how the film promoted a true independent spirit, but also happy to validate her claims over 18 years of living in Beaufort that "no, Michael was not in the military, even though he spent so much time away from home." It seems that military wives and filmmaker wives have more in common than we realized. "Besides," Nicole added, "anyone who sees Michael's hair knows he isn't in the military." Relieved to have Michael working closer to home, the Givens hope to stay more local while continuing to make their kinds of films. Let's hope that other talented local and regional filmmakers will do the same.

To read our extensive interview with Michael Givens (above, right, with actor Carlos Bernard), go here.

- Duncan Pittman

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Fantastic. Amazing. Impressive. These sycophantic (and usually undeserved) praises are normally reserved for bloated, big budget Hollywood films or gaunt, award-hungry art house pictures. Yes, pretty words with good intentions that roll off the tongue and "put butts in seats," as the old producers used to say. However, in the case of tonight's first feature, Angel Camouflaged, audience response suggests that the independent film world just might wrestle such praise back from the big boys. Based on the enthusiasm of professional Hollywood film sound designer/local film-goer Eugene Gearty (who voiced his praise of the film with the aforementioned adjectives), it's safe to say that indie film cred is back! From the pleasing sound and picture quality, to the compelling story and characters, to the charm and charisma of the filmmakers, cast and crew, Gearty felt "the appeal of this kind of story was obvious." An overly ambitious premise that is successfully executed is exactly the kind of independent (and locally-crafted) film that audiences deserve to see.  Unlike some indie films that beg to mean something, or overreach without appropriate resources, this film refuses to suffer from the amateurism of some indie films that "bump into themselves," and tells a clear and compelling story. Joining the ranks of the other fine films decorating the Beaufort movie screens this week, Angel Camouflaged presents a refreshing and much awaited change. Just another example of how the BIFF allows dark horse talent to strut their stuff down the streets of Beaufort -- which, if you ask me, is fantastic, amazing, and impressive.

- Duncan Pittman

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Solo cinephile and Beaufort local Larry Meisner found luck on Lady's Island tonight. Arriving to festival headquarters for the highly anticipated, 7pm screening of  Angel Camouflaged, he wasn't that surprised to learn that the simultaneous screenings the film were both sold out and packed to the rafters--that is, for one lone seat. Just his luck! Couples and traffic-delayed journalists be darned, Meisner successfully snagged the last seat. Floating in a swirling sea of couple, cast members, crew, and seasoned film buffs, Larry sat pleased and welcome amongst the  eclectic and enthusiastic audience, for he had successfully navigated the popular festival waters into the center of of the party--and all by his lonesome. Meisner was all smiles when exiting the theater, impressed by the film and tickled by his luck. It just goes to show you the perks of coming to the movies alone; and clearly the BIFF is a welcoming festival that is determined to (and successful at) filling every seat with local cinephiles, whether they have a date or not.

- Duncan Pittman

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A huge day at the Beaufort International Film Festival, with capacity crowds for virtually every screening. As for highlights - almost too many to mention and standouts in every category.

The Short Film category is particularly strong this year, and among them two of my favorites screened today. Seth Boggess wrote and directed Left Alone, based on a Chekhov short story and shot on the streets of Chicago with talent right off the Steppenwolf Theater stage. It shows.

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Tables, in Beaufort, South Carolina at least, have better reasons for existence than for actors to sit around them reading. As soon as director Bruce Doneff realized that we were going to have a big audience for last night’s table read of the Beaufort International Film Festival screenplay finalists, he made an executive decision. The microphone-less actors were going to have to stand and project. So he moved the table from the stage to the back of the house, draped it in lovely black fabric and stacked it with bottles of wine. It was one of three great decisions he made.

The second was to invite the actor Benjamin Busch down to the front row and get him to explain how table reads usually work — to the players and the audience that quickly filled in from the French film next door, once word of the wine got out. When dozens of film buffs aren’t paying $15 each to hear unpublished screenplays read aloud for the first time, table reads are apparently intimate, intimidating affairs. Usually only the writer, director and producers are in the room with the actors, who’ve never seen the script before. It’s when writers discover that dialog falls flat, directors discover they need more rehearsal time and producers discover that some cast members just aren’t going to click and need to be replaced.

Thankfully, ours was nothing like that. I’ll take a crowded audience of film buffs with glasses of wine in their hands any day. They didn’t seem to mind the tradeoff of conversational delivery for actually being able to hear in the back row. But I was nervous. I’ve sat, mumbling the dialog of my screenplays to myself, in front of my computer, for days. I rarely project. I never use body language. I don’t use high voices for females and my best Johnny Cash for males. So watching the rehearsal was like watching a Shakespearean adaptation of my dark, disturbing drama. It worked brilliantly for the screenplay before mine, about moonshiners and revenuers, but would it ring true on a modern-day drama about a sex offender?

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