Fortunately, the civilizing influence of the sun this past weekend gave pause to SIFF's lumbering onslaught, as people fled the moist dank of the theaters for the glorious bright of Seattle in the (now, finally) summer. I managed to drag myself to only a few evening films, one of which, Chuck and Buck, was fabulous. An expertly crafted, mordantly funny tale of stalking, obsession, and misplaced homoeroticism, the film is a welcome revival of the almost-lost idea of a relevant, impassioned, American independent film. Director Miguel Arteta made the opposite of an ass of himself at the Q&A, demonstrating a humble and ample wit and a refreshing sincerity. How odd that such qualities have become rare in a director.
Moreover, after being chewed out by the SIFF staff for my ungenerous coverage of Opening Night (as well as for flossing my teeth barefoot in public, evidently an act of infamy around the SIFF staff), I am happy to report that Saturday night's party for SIFF guests was a great improvement. In fact, any party where Mark Finley and Karen Black can get tipsy together gets high marks on my Jesus-fucking-Christ- o-meter. Better still, the party ended at the Rendezvous, where the Opening Night gala should have been.
Oh well. The last weekend of SIFF offers some of the strongest programming of the fest. Some recommendations: the WTO document Trade Off, the Japanese shocker Audition, and the sure-to-be-odd Atrocity Exhibition. Other choices include Monday, Spellbound, and Spicy Love Soup. A bunch of the week's most promising films--Water Drops on Burning Rocks, Shower, The Discreet Charm of the Bourgeoisie--are already slated for release this summer, so take a chance on something unknown instead. And see you next year.
