The closing weekend of the Seattle International Film Festival tends to inspire complicated feelings—about the good and bad films you saw, the ones you missed, and the general sense that you probably could’ve tried harder to make it to a few more screenings while you had the chance. This year’s festival presented a few fewer films (400, down from last year’s 421).
Nevertheless, on weekdays and weekends alike, come rain or come shine, whether for fancy studio releases or obscure Kenyan microbudget discoveries, Seattle filmgoers could be seen every day for the past three weeks lining up for their annual dose. Much as I have groaned about waiting in lines all my pampered life, it’s always a glorious sight.
If anything, though, the culture at large has raced to catch up with SIFF’s daunting programming model, offering more entertainment possibilities in a month than anyone could possibly consume in a year.
