Independent Spirit Awards
With an eclectic list of nominees spanning the great budgetary divide, the IFP's Spirit Awards redefine 'independent'

By Scott Tobias

Nearly two decades since their incarnation, the Independent Spirit Awards still take place in the modest confines of a tent on the Santa Monica beach. But their increasing prominence comes with an ever-more-daunting set of responsibilities: As other awards-giving bodies honor their own, the Spirit Awards play the unique and unenviable role of standard-bearer, defining "independence" at a time when the word is continually shifting in meaning.

Every year, event sponsor IFP/Los Angeles and its 12-person nominating committee must find enough wiggle room in the word "spirit" to keep the awards a fair and meaningful survey of a tricky landscape. With more and more boutique-label independents being recognized by the Academy Awards, the Spirit nods seem nearly destined to lose some of their distinction.

Nonetheless, IFP executive director Dawn Hudson does not envision a time when the ceremony will have to reinvent itself. "As the independent film community matures and becomes incredibly savvy about marketing their films, we'll be able to penetrate mainstream awards and mainstream audiences in general," she says.

"(Focus Features') 'Lost in Translation' might (have received) Academy Award attention, but what about (Fine Line's) 'American Splendor' or (Lions Gate's) 'Shattered Glass' or (Samuel Goldwyn Films') 'Raising Victor Vargas'?" Hudson adds. "These are all stars in our world."

Rather than drawing a sharp line in the sand, the IFP keeps things in line with its "economy of means" requirement, which allows budget limits to be set at the nominating committee's discretion. The figure shifts each year, but Hudson asserts that such flexibility is necessary because "it's hard to predict what the budgets are going to be for the next crop of films, and it's also hard to determine what the actual budgets of films are."

"There are films that are made wholly by their filmmaker, without any input from the studio, and they cost $50 million," Hudson says. "That's not what we mean by 'economy of means.' When you get into a higher budget, you have many more hands in the process, you have many more demands on the process, and it becomes harder to make a truly individual, independent film."

Hudson admits that the vagaries of the requirement "make everyone crazy," but they also help the committee overcome any painful hair-splitting among true independents, specialty divisions and major studios.

Glancing at this year's contenders, some might wonder why DreamWorks' "House of Sand and Fog" received three Spirit nominations (best first feature, best male lead and best supporting female), while Focus Features' "21 Grams" was deemed ineligible. Simple: "House," an uncompromising adaptation of a novel by Andre Dubus III, cost about $15 million, but "Grams" cost more than $20 million. (The latter will receive a Special Distinction Award, however.)

Money matters mean little to Ross Katz, producer of writer-director Sofia Coppola's crossover hit "Translation," which has ridden overwhelming acclaim to four Spirit Award nominations (best feature, best director, best screenplay and best male lead), four Oscar nominations, three Golden Globe wins and a slew of guild and critics' nods. Coppola's melancholic portrait of Americans in Tokyo was shot on location for shockingly little money, but Katz and Coppola did not want that fact to affect how the film was perceived.

"We never wanted people to quantify their response to the film because of its size," Katz says. "Making a film in Tokyo with few resources was a challenge, but there are ways to attain real beauty, and we were able to get the vision Sofia was after."

Katz is "deeply flattered" by the Spirit Awards recognition because it acknowledges "Translation's" modest means and its uniquely personal connection with audiences. But he hastens to add that he does not like to consider himself an independent producer.

"I think the word 'independent' has lost its meaning," Katz says. "All independent filmmakers are dependent, and there are many filmmakers that make films with studios that I would consider very independent-minded individuals."

He adds, "How can you say that a movie that was made for $30 million is a passionless endeavor, and if that same movie was made for $1 million, it would be a passionate endeavor?"

Among Spirit Award leaders with five nominations -- best feature, best director, best first script and best debut performance noms for both of its young stars, Victor Rasuk and Judy Marte -- "Raising" is several notches below "Translation" in terms of budget and exposure. Starring a gifted cast of nonprofessionals, this charming look at first love floated on the festival circuit for more than a year before finding a distributor. Even then, it faced a stiff challenge in the marketplace, where the deep-pocketed specialty divisions enjoy an advantage.

"Certainly, (Samuel Goldwyn's) resources are limited, but that's the flip side of their independence, so to speak," writer-director Peter Sollett says. "Ultimately, Samuel Goldwyn and Fireworks took a chance on us when other distributors didn't, and I assume they did that because they didn't have a corporate parent to respond to."

Despite the considerable differences in scale between "Raising" and "Translation," Sollett agrees with Katz that independence "doesn't have much to do with how many zeros you have in your budget."

"Independent is a difficult thing to define," he says. "I think now, more than anything else, it's a philosophy. At best, the 'independent' label refers to a style of filmmaking that has a certain amount of respect for the audience and a certain amount of respect for its characters."

Independence clearly has its gray areas, but no one could argue that writer-director Deborah Kampmeier's "Virgin" falls anywhere near them. Small even among fellow nominees for the John Cassavetes Award (given to a feature shot for less than $500,000), the provocative digital video drama could have been made for 10 times its cost and still would be eligible for a nomination.

"We truly are the underdogs of the underdogs," says "Virgin's" Elisabeth Moss, who earned a best female lead nomination for her gutsy portrayal of a rebellious small-town teen who is convinced that she's pregnant with the next Christ child. "Suddenly, (Miramax's fellow Cassavetes nominee) 'The Station Agent' looks like (Fox's 'X2: X-Men United') or (Sony's 'Charlie's Angels: Full Throttle') next to us. But it's flattering for a film like ours, that's not even out in theaters, to be considered the same caliber of these other films."

As much as the Spirit Awards try to recognize unheralded and/or undistributed orphans like "Virgin," Hudson admits that smaller films are at a disadvantage. While the nominating committee spends two months seeing movies and weighing potential nominees, final ballots are opened up to the IFP's 9,000-person membership. Voters are urged to abstain from categories in which they have not seen all of the nominees, but that request frequently is ignored.

"For me, that's the most painful part of the awards process," Hudson says. "The nominations are very carefully vetted, but it's hard to get all the members to see the smaller films. We schedule screenings, but they have to get out to those screenings to see them. Our filmmakers can't begin to afford to send screeners to 9,000 people; in a way, that sort of proves the need for a better distribution mechanism for small films."

Says Kampmeier of the struggle to reach Spirit Awards voters: "That is something that plagues us daily. Since we don't have a distributor to finance a marketing campaign, we're just trying to do grass-roots: We're trying to find friends who have friends, (and) we've added extra screenings. Attendance has been good, but getting the word out to members to let them know about the screenings has been difficult. If we can't get them there, then we don't have a shot."

For emerging filmmakers like Kampmeier, the Spirit Awards might not make an immediate impact -- but the accolades could prove meaningful down the road.

"The rewards of being nominated for the Spirit Awards are different from the Academy Awards because (the films) are not in theaters anymore or were never in theaters to begin with," Hudson says. "However, small filmmakers get much more interest on the level of agents and managers. Some films will have more screenings booked, and sometimes, it helps (filmmakers) secure financing for their next film."

For Andrew Bujalski, the Boston-based writer-director-star of "Funny Ha Ha," that next film already has wrapped production. To one of three nominees for the Someone to Watch Award -- judged by a special blue-ribbon panel -- there are tangible benefits to the $20,000 grant given to the winner because it would recoup a considerable chunk of his investment.

During a two-year period, Bujalski's startlingly naturalistic film has earned berths in numerous festivals and repertory houses, but he confesses that "it has absolutely not been a moneymaking proposition."

"From the day 'Funny Ha Ha' was finished to the day it had its first public screening was about six months," Bujalski says. "That's how long it took me to get anyone to care. More than once now, I've been in a situation where a festival has rejected us one year and invited us back the next year because they'd seen some press and felt dumb for rejecting us the year before. But it's the same film. You don't take it personally, but the mechanics of that are very visible.

"The best thing about the Spirit Awards (nomination) is it gets more attention for the film," he adds. "Nothing has made it any easier to make the new film, but it will certainly be a lot easier to get people to consider it."

When asked if he plans to fly out for the ceremony, Bujalski offers: "Something seems slightly decadent about going because I'm editing a new film. Part of me feels like I should be monastic and stay here and work, but it seems like a crazy opportunity to pass up. It's not like I've been to so many awards shows that I've earned the right to be jaded about them yet."

Published Feb. 26, 2004

The main event
Not even a red carpet can interfere with the Spirit Awards' casual cool

By Scott Tobias

Traditionally held the afternoon before the Academy Awards, the IFP Independent Spirit Awards have served as a foil to the main event, an alternate universe where the stars dress down and many of the nominated films cost less than the dowdiest Oscar gown. Instead of the custom-designed Kodak Theatre, the Spirit Awards take place in a tent on the Santa Monica beach. And instead of Billy Crystal or Steve Martin, they're hosted by the irreverent John Waters.

This year's event -- set to air live Saturday at 2 p.m. PST on IFC and to be rebroadcast at 10 p.m. on Bravo -- introduces a new level of surreality with Bravo's red carpet preshow, hosted by "Queer Eye for the Straight Guy's" Carson Kressley. Will the extra scrutiny change the way people dress?

"I don't think so," says Diana Zahn-Storey, who returns as Spirit Awards producer for a 10th consecutive year. "I think Carson is going to have a good time with the fact that people aren't wearing Vera Wang dresses or anything. It will be funny to hear questions like, 'What kind of T-shirt are you wearing today?'"

Although Zahn-Storey remains mum about any surprises at Saturday's event, she promises a repeat of last year's popular song parodies of the big features. She also emphasizes that the Spirit Awards will continue to allow winners to speak their minds, without getting cut off by the orchestra. That policy has led to several memorable moments, including director Michael Moore's trial run of the speech he delivered at last year's Academy Awards after winning a documentary Oscar for "Bowling for Columbine."

"We like to create an atmosphere where people feel comfortable enough to be open onstage," Zahn-Storey says. "That's usually where the comedy comes, as well as the really poignant moments that come from people knowing they can say what they feel."

Published Feb. 26, 2004

SXSW Unveils Slate of Panels for 2004 Film Conference

by Eugene Hernandez

Organizers of the annual South by Southwest Film Conference have announced the lineup of panels and panelists for the four-day series of seminars, which will run March 13-16 at the Austin Convention Center. The fifty panel programs will include a range of topics.

Industry sessions will welcome a number of notables from the film business. On the morning of Saturday, March 13th Sony Classics' Michael Barker, Newmarket's Bob Berney, Cinetic's Micah Green, Film Movement's Larry Meistrich, producer and author John Pierson, and former UA president Bingham Ray will survey the state of the independent film business.

read whole article

The Oscar goes to ...

Once upon a time, there were movies that made you feel good, and others that made you feel bad. On the one hand, Hollywood studios painted by numbers and let the spirits soar. They could push one audience button that said tears — as the hero crashes the wedding and scoops up his rightful bride — and another that said cheers — as the scrappy underdog drags his wounded buddy from the jungle.
Independent films, on the other hand, were all about low budgets, breaking taboos and, often, trying hard to avoid a happy end. Indie was genre-bending, glass-half-empty shock versus dream-peddling schlock. Indie directors cast a wide net of anomie — urban, suburban, and rural — exposing with mischievous glee any slice of sham behind the American dream.
Then, in 1994, along came a former video-store clerk, Quentin Tarantino. "Pulp Fiction," which he directed for indie pioneer Miramax, ditched art-house earnestness in favor of the guns and gore of America's B-movie pop culture. In the process, he gave Miramax its first film to bring in more than $100 million at the box office.
It's hard to say what Mr. Tarantino's lasting legacy will be. One thing, however, is clear: Feeling bad never looked so good as it did in "Pulp Fiction." People overdosed; blood splattered everywhere; dark, leather fetishes abounded — and it was somehow funny. Aided by Mr. Tarantino's rise, the glitz of the Sundance Film Festival and the promotional muscle of Miramax, by 1996, indies dominated the Oscars.
All this is recounted in Peter Biskind's deliciously gossipy, if exhausting, recent treatment of the indie film industry, "Down and Dirty Pictures: Miramax, Sundance, and The Rise of Independent Film," (Simon & Schuster, 2004). It is less a cautionary tale of commerce trumping art than of art catching the Hollywood gravy train while trying to retain its dignity.
Drawing from hundreds of insider interviews, Mr. Biskind shapes his plot from two main, and rather unsavory, characters: Robert Redford and his Sundance Festival, which emerged from a Utah ski resort to become America's festival showcase for independent film, and Harvey Weinstein, who, with his brother Bob, rose from Queens, via Buffalo, N.Y., to pose a serious challenge to the big studios' grip on Hollywood with his production company, Miramax.
There is far too much in the book about film financing (equity positions, net points, billing blocks, etc.) and a surfeit of detail on Harvey Weinstein's boorish behavior. But readers can take voyeuristic pleasure in watching these characters not so much rise and fall as simply bloat themselves to the point that they're delivering the same slick fare as Hollywood.
Mr. Redford, controlling yet indecisive, stands by as Sundance grows from a creative laboratory to a see-and-be-seen spectacle of diamond-studded snow bunnies, a sort of Alpine Cannes. And you can watch Mr. Weinstein, the potty-mouthed, power-tripping demagogue, as he descends, even as his profits mount, from the genuinely indie "Trainspotting" down through the middle-brow "Shakespeare In Love," finally reaching his nadir in the Freddie Prinze Jr. prom drama "She's All That."
By the end, Mr. Weinstein's cynicism says it all. "I wanted to prove to [the studios]," he tells Mr. Biskind, "that I can make a piece of ... and compete on their level. And I did."
On that low note, did Indie die and move to Hollywood?
It sure looks that way, especially once Mr. Weinstein penetrated the date-movie mall demographic. But, more plausibly, Indie seems to have struck a benign Faustian bargain with the Hollywood studios: We'll sell a part of our soul in exchange for a part of your power. We'll give you street cred and critical acclaim in exchange for big budgets and distribution muscle. In other words, we'll give you art, and you'll give us commerce.
Commerce still has the upper hand, but scanning this year's crop of Oscar nominations, it's hard not to notice an almost historic harmony between the two. The big-budget Civil War epic "Cold Mountain" was brought to us by Miramax, which is now owned by Disney, whereas the grim and gritty "Mystic River" was released by Warner Brothers.
Focus Features, which released the nonlinear "21 Grams" and the hushed and contemplative "Lost in Translation," is now owned by Universal. The feel-good "Seabiscuit" was released by Steven Spielberg's mainstream DreamWorks, but that same studio also released the very indie-esque "House of Sand and Fog."
Then you have predominantly indie actors doing turns in mainstream family fare, such as Johnny Depp in "Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl." Conversely, A-list actors are happily exchanging star glamour for dark indie verisimilitude. The jowly and hung-over Bill Murray of "Lost in Translation" and the fatted-up and uglied-down Charlize Theron of "Monster" come to mind as examples.
If Hollywood and the indies now seem hopelessly entangled, it's maybe not such a bad thing. Indie in its purest form, without studio pressure or any concern for the potential audience, can easily become self-indulgent therapy for self-important directors. Anyone who has sat through student films full of post-adolescent angst, pregnant pauses and loopy camera angles, could easily welcome a Hollywood film where something — an exploding chopper or a car going off the cliff — actually happens.
Ultimately, they had to meet in the middle. Hollywood has embraced Indie's gritty realism and given it higher production values and a faster pace. The studios will accept high-brow dialogue as long as the characters blow away a few lowlifes with assault rifles.
But there are some worrying trends. For one, as Mr. Biskind concludes, the major studios, after some commercial big-budget duds, are increasingly eager to reclaim their lost Oscar glory. This would be a shame for movie-going audiences. The star-driven feel-good movies can always rely on the deep pockets of the studios for promotion. But indie films depend on festival awards and critical acclaim to even get into theaters.
Second, aspiring directors and screenwriters are increasingly treating the indies as a bush league for Hollywood rather than as an alternative creative universe. At the Hollywood Film Festival a few years ago, the winning screenplays featured an alien circus artist, a psychopathic dog kennel owner and a cheating senator. They could all have been made into standard Hollywood fare. They just didn't have a production deal. Unlike the mid-1980s, when directors such as David Lynch, Jim Jarmusch and the Coen brothers plied their uniquely radical visions, Indie is lately in danger of becoming synonymous with "not quite ready for prime time."
So here's a final lesson for aspiring filmmakers. Unless the product is way out there, the studio suits and bean counters don't really care what your film is about. It can be mindless or thoughtful, feel-good or feel-bad. As long as you can get an A-list, or upper B-list, actor on board, they'll feel confident it will play well in Ohio. A-list actors, in turn, tired of being typecast, crave critical respect as much as aspiring directors crave a Beverly Hills mansion and funding for their next film.
As it looks now, the Faustian bargain will remain in place. At the very worst, it will turn cancerous, and Indie will fully sell its soul. At best, Hollywood will treat Indie the way that a popular gang once bullied the nerd loner, only to realize he was pretty cool all along.

D.C.-based writer Stefan Sullivan's first novel won a Discovery Award at the 2001 Hollywood Film Festival.

From the Chicago Tribune

`Lana' has week to prove itself
By Nina Metz
Special to the Tribune

"Hollywood doesn't believe you exist -- prove them wrong!" reads the banner headline across the Web site for "Lana's Rain," the new independent film that hopes to position itself as a cinematic beacon for Chicago's Eastern European immigrant population.

Talk about straightforward marketing tactics. But for first-time filmmakers snubbed by showbiz powerbrokers, there is little time for poetically worded taglines.

The makers and distributors of "Lana's Rain" -- all current or former Chicagoans -- are out to prove that you don't need a studio distribution deal to get your indie into theaters. Their level of success may gauge how viable the self-distribution model really is.

The film opens Friday in just a single theater, the Music Box, where it is booked for a week. The box office numbers from the first weekend will, as with any film, determine what kind of future (if any) "Lana's Rain" has.

The film -- a first-time effort written and directed by Columbia College grad Michael Ojeda and produced by fellow alum Joel Goodman -- tells the story of Darko and Lana, siblings who flee their home in Bosnia during the Balkan Wars of the mid-1990s and immigrate, illegally, to Chicago. The deck is stacked against the pair from the start: They don't know anyone, they're broke, and they can barely speak the language.

Not the American dream

Darko (Nickolai Stoilov, a Los Angeles-based Bulgarian-native) becomes a pimp, forcing his naive sister (Oksana Orlenko, a former Miss Ukraine who relocated to Chicago in 1995) to turn tricks to earn the rent money for their crummy room in a transient hotel. "So much for the American dream," is the unspoken message underlying each progressively grimier scene.

"We showed it to all the studios," Ojeda says, "and the response we got back was that they thought it was a great first film. But they couldn't put it into a category. It's not an art house film, but it's not a commercial film, either. They basically told me it doesn't have an audience."

And there was another marketing challenge the studios were unwilling to tackle.

"The film has no stars," says David Sikich, who, along with partner John Iltis, signed on as producer's reps -- agents for the film itself -- in 2001.

Their locally based, boutiquelike operation, ISA Releasing, gained a noteworthy reputation a decade ago when it sold "Hoop Dreams," the documentary about two teenage Chicago basketball players, to New Line Studios.

"When we're rep-ing a film," Sikich says, "we get 10 percent of the action. Basically, we're the sellers. When we sign on, we're looking for someone else -- a studio -- to shoulder the financial risk, to do all the marketing, to actually distribute the film."

To generate the kind of buzz that entices a buyer, filmmakers have to aggressively play the festival circuit. Though "Lana's Rain" was not invited to Sundance, it was screened at the 2002 Chicago International Film Festival, as well as the 2003 Milan International Film Festival, where Orlenko (who relocated to Los Angeles in 2002) received the best actress award.

Despite ISA's best efforts, it became apparent last fall that a domestic distribution deal was not in the cards. When a pending deal with a foreign distributor fell through, Sikich says he and Iltis had to make a decision: "Either we drop it. Or proceed and try to distribute this on our own."

They choose the latter route, putting their own money and reputation on the line.

ISA has only self-distributed one other film, the 1995 Grateful Dead documentary called "Tie-Died: Rock 'n' Roll's Most Deadicated Fans," and Sikich admits it was not a successful venture.

"We bit off too much to start off," he says. "We booked 40 prints of the movie in 25 markets. `Lana's Rain' is a different situation: One print, one city. We're doing this really grass roots. There is such a substantial Eastern European presence in Chicago -- Bosnians, Albanians, Croatians, Serbians, Bulgarians, Ukrainians -- so our challenge right now is to prove that there is an audience for this film. If we can generate big numbers our first weekend, it could really help us get a DVD deal."

Shot in Chicago

And a DVD deal is probably their final chance to make any money off the film, which was shot predominantly in Chicago for an impressively small budget that producer Goodman estimates to be around $215,000.

For many independent filmmakers, self-distribution is the only option available.

According to Barbara Scharres, director of programming at the Gene Siskel Film Center, "It's a very common phenomenon, but it takes a lot of effort and a lot of self-education. A lot of people don't even realize that they need to have press packets and screener tapes to send out. They finish their film and then it's like, `Oh gosh, what's next?'"

Even if a distribution offer is made, some filmmakers, like local director David Cole and producer John Digles, turn them down because of some very real concerns that their film will be trapped forever in celluloid limbo -- permanently shelved or released without any marketing support.

Cole's highly stylized first feature, "Design" just finished a brief run at the Siskel Film Center this past week. The film centers on three intersecting stories about the concept of fate. It was shot entirely in Chicago and was an official selection at the 2002 Sundance Film Festival.

"When we got to Sundance," Digles says, "we learned pretty quick that it wasn't just about scoring a distribution deal. It had to be the right deal. It's not the size of the ring, but the quality of the marriage. We did get offers when we were there, but they wouldn't guarantee a release, which is always a bad sign. So we decided to take option B," the do-it-yourself method.

So far, Digles has been able to secure a two-year TV deal with Showtime Networks, which aired the film on the Sundance Channel this past December and January. It returns to the schedule again in July. Digles says he is finalizing plans to release the film in New York and Los Angeles this spring, and talking about a DVD deal with two distributors.

Digles says "Design," which was shot on a budget of $1 million raised from individual investors, has already produced a return on their investment.

Unlike the makers of "Lana's Rain" -- who recently moved to Los Angeles -- Digles and Cole have chosen to remain in Chicago.

Thanks to their appearance at Sundance, they both have agents. They are working on their next film, a dark comedy about the afterlife that Digles says will begin shooting this summer, hopefully in Chicago. Evan Rachel Wood is set to star.

But the two are clearly looking to get out of the self-distribution business.

"We're in the process of raising the $5 million budget for our next film," Digles says, then adds, "Then we'll try to cut a deal with a studio."

'City of God' director ready for Oscar party

By Lauren Hillery • Staff Writer
Arizona Daily Wildcat
Thursday, February 26, 2004

With the Oscars only three days away, the relatively unknown Brazilian director who made "City of God," Fernando Meirelles, has no Versace-like designer to sponsor him.

Meirelles admits he is unprepared thus far.

"I'm going to have to get (a tuxedo). I don't have one yet," Meirelles said.

But with "City of God's" four nominations: cinematography, film editing, writing (adapted screen play) and directing, it's essential he get his act together.

While "City of God" has blown away audiences across the globe, it's Meirelles' relatively limited film training that's made the film's success so surprising.

"I didn't study film. I'm an architect and I started doing experimental video in school, architecture school. And then I moved to independent production for television," Meirelles said.

But Meirelles must have done something right, considering that two years after its original release, "City of God" is being re-released across the globe to help the box office numbers- $6 million in the United States - reach the critical success level.

It would have been difficult to predict this film's success, especially for Meirelles, because his intention was simply to educate a Brazilian audience about the subculture slum life in Brazil.

"I wanted to show how life was in the other part of Brazil. Because Brazil is like two countries. There is an official Brazil, mostly the middle-class Brazil. And there is this other Brazil. And we barely know what happens inside," he said. "We hear about crimes and we see in the newspaper boys being shot and being killed every day. And we never know where this comes from. This explains, in a certain way, how we let this situation come to the point that we see today."

After reading Paulo Lins' book "Ciudad de Dios," Meirelles bought the rights to make a film that shows what's really happening in his country from an inside point of view.

"I wanted to do the film with the same point of view. Try to tell the story from the inside point of view. That's why I worked with no professional actors, but boys from those neighborhoods.

And I shot the film in real locations to get the same feeling that I got from the book," Meirelles said.

The film follows the life a young aspiring Brazilian photographer during the1970s as he works his way into mainstream media success by playing off both sides of a vicious gang war.

With his specific audience in mind, Meirelles said he would never have expected the film's monumental success.

However, he is perhaps most shocked by the film's record-breaking success in Brazil. He expects the film to sell 4 million tickets in Brazil after its re-release.

It's not just the widespread success of the film that's amazing; it's his directorial nomination that is most phenomenal, considering the company Meirelles is in.

The other nominated directors are Hollywood heavyweights Peter Jackson ("The Return of the King"), Clint Eastwood ("Mystic River") and Peter Weir ("Master and Commander: The Far Side of the World."

But the calm Meirelles is not worrying himself with pressure and nerves; he's more excited that he'll be attending the Oscars and the after party with his closest friends, also nominated for the film.

"This is a good thing. Me, Cesar (Charlone, cinematographer), Braulio (Mantovani, writer) and Daniel (Rezende, editor). We've been working together for 10 years in the same company, in the same place every day. They're all going to be there, of course, so we're going to have a private party I'm sure," Meirelles said.

While Meirelles will be finished with the mayhem of the Oscars after this weekend, the industry is still keeping him busy. Meirelles is working on a film called "The Constant Gardener," a British independent film, backed by Focus Features.

Ralph Fiennes plays a British diplomat who goes to Kenya to investigate a report about the pharmaceutical industry making money in underdeveloped Africa.

"It's kind of a political thriller, but also a love story," Meirelles said.

Following that, he's working on a sequel to "Tolerance," a story about globalization involving five different stories, in six different countries, in seven languages.

"That I'm going to be shooting at the end of this year hopefully," Meirelles said.

He'll be going back to Brazil to shoot that film, but if all goes well, we might see him back in the states for a future Academy Awards.

Shanghai Daily news

A banned film has finally been released in China. Reporter Michelle Qiao talks with the director, He Jianjun, who addresses his inspiration and methods.

It's a present long overdue. After nearly a decade, movie director He Jianjun's film ``Postman'' was finally released two months ago from a ban and received permission to go to video in China. In mid-February, He brought three of his productions to the city's DDM Warehouse gallery, including the award-winning ``Postman.''

``Postman'' is a complex, enigmatic film about postman Xiandou (played by Feng Yuanzheng), who is assigned to serve for the Xingfu District after his predecessor is sacked for reading others' letters. Orphaned since childhood, Xiaodou lives with his sister (Liang Danni) who later has been preoccupied by a repairman (Pu Cunxin). Soon this taciturn young man begins reading others' letters, too, gradually drawn into the worlds they reveal. Once Pandora's Box is opened, however, it cannot be closed. Xiaodou grows hopelessly enthralled and becomes obsessed by the private lives of those in his district. His actions go beyond merely reading; he rewrites letters and even meets people face-to-face. As it touched upon too many privacies and shady side of the society, ``Postman'' was soon banned after being finished in 1995. Acutely rendered at a pace that slowly but irresistibly pulls one into its orbit of desperate obsession, ``Postman'' is the second feature film by He, one of China's sixth-generation directors. Lank, short, mild and quiet, He looks more like an honest postman than the director of the avant-garde ``Postman'' that courageously shows prostitution, drugs, homosexuality and incest in the mid-1990s. Born in 1960 in Beijing, He began his filmmaking career by working odd jobs for director Huang Jianzhong and his shooting team in 1982. After that he enrolled in a directing course at the Beijing Film Academy and graduated in 1990. Later He became assistant director to a handful of renowned fifth-generation directors, including Zhang Yimou (``Raise the Red Lantern''), Chen Kaige (``Farewell My Concubine'') and Tian Zhuangzhuang (``The Blue Kite''). After making several short films, documentaries and ads, He made his first feature film, the black-and-white ``Xuan Lian'' (``Red Bead'') in 1993, which won him the Fipresci Award at the 1994 Rotterdam International Film Festival. ``Postman'' has also captured several international film awards, including the Tiger Award at the 1995 Rotterdam International Film Festival. Regarded as one of the most important representatives of the sixth-generation directors, He says the six-generation is just ``a form of address'' and the attention from others has nothing to do with his filmmaking. ``I only make films about the stories that move me,'' he says. ``Nowadays directors with signature characteristics are beloved by audiences. I think character is something important. If you cater only to a commercial flavor, the audience will get fed up one day.'' ``He is unique among the sixth-generation directors,'' says Zhu Hongying, a middle-aged film fan. ``He is the only one who practiced first and then studied theory at college. He has had hard days and still doesn't live well. I love his light style and his attention to personal feeling. Aside from being jumpy and a bit loose, the film offers space for the audience to breathe.'' Director He agrees. He admits that he is sensitive and interested in leaving room for interpretation. ``Some directors pay attention to the drama. But I want to leave more room for the audience to imagine,'' he says. He has left so much of this space, it may be difficult for the audience to understand some details. Someone who watches ``Postman'' may wonder why Xiaodou sleeps with his sister at the end of the movie. ``If people's lifestyle is destroyed, they can do extreme things,'' explains He. ``It might be imagination, or it might be true. It's up to you to understand, to clarify the ambiguity.'' Director Han Jianwei from the Vmagic TV/Film Production Co viewed He's first movie ``Red Bead'' at the Berlin Film Festival many years ago. ``I heard of `Postman' a long time ago and finally watched it here,'' Han says. ``This must have been a very avant-garde film nine years ago, but it does not seem fresh today. I find it slow, as it takes more than half an hour to get into the drama. But I was moved by the scene where Xiaodou's female colleague asks to have sex with him on the table of the post office. It's very characteristic, twinkling with humanity.'' Also the screenwriter, He says the film was inspired by a segment on the Beijing Evening News about a postman reading others' letters. ``The news fired my imagination. How had the man benefited from reading the letters, and what did he lose?'' He says. ``I walked into a post office and was mesmerized by the rhythm of stamp pounding. Therefore, I decided to repeat the pounding sound.'' He adds that he imbued ``Postman'' with a kind of ``cold yellow'' since it's the color of dry straw or the earth of a Beijing winter. ``I grew up in Beijing, and the winter color of the city still resides in my heart,'' he says. When talking about films, He still cannot help sighing at the Chinese film industry today. ``Things changed a lot during the past 20 years, and the status of film nowadays can't match that two decades ago. In the mid-1980s, culture and art flourished, and a film ticket could capture the heart of a girl. But today, she might need a two-million-yuan (US$240,000) house,'' he chuckles. ``The hot topic in China today is the economy, but I believe when the economy develops to a certain extent, people will feel the need for films again. Film is a good form of communication.'' He then told an anecdote of his favorite director, Polish master Krzysztof Kieslowski. ``Once leaving a small cafe in Paris, Kieslowski walked along the street and was recognized by a girl. She said his movie trilogy -- ``Blue,'' ``White'' and ``Red'' -- moved her so much that she began talking with her estranged mother again, and they've since lived together for 12 years without a harsh word,'' He recalls. ``Kieslowski felt the whole thing was worthwhile if the movies were only made for the benefit of this one person, this girl. ``I would say the same goes for me, too,'' He says. ``It's all worthwhile if I can touch just one person.''

ARTS WEEKLYFILM-BRAZIL: When a Flooded Town Is a Laughing Matter

By Mario Osava RIO DE JANEIRO, Feb 28 (IPS) - The fictional town of Javé is to be flooded by a dam that Brazil's authorities claim will generate electricity ”and progress”. The uprooting of its residents would be a sad tale, but it is told in a new film with such humour and human warmth that film-goers have no choice but to laugh.

And this ”tragicomedy” continues to rack up awards. Earlier this month ”Narradores de Javé” (Storytellers of Javé) won best film at the Punta del Este International Film Festival, an annual event at the Uruguayan beach resort.

”Narradores de Javé” portrays many aspects of little-known rural Brazil: populations expelled from their homes by megaproject hydroelectric dams, the oral histories maintained by storytellers, rampant illiteracy and the naive malice of rural culture.

It is a profoundly Brazilian film in that much of the dialogue is not translatable, which is why its popularity in Uruguay and at the Rotterdam Film Festival last year in the Netherlands came as a bit of a surprise.

Director Eliane Caffé herself uses the term ”tragicomedy” to refer to the story of the Javé residents, told in a rich way that combines a true-to-life reality with situational mix-ups and characters that are very funny -- at times hilarious.

Javé is a small town in impoverished rural northeast Brazil and is slated to be flooded by the dam that will ”bring progress.” All of the houses will be wiped out ”in benefit of the majority, but we never find out who that majority is,” comments one villager.

A local leader, Zaqueu, the town's link to the rest of the world, comes up with the idea that a book about the Javé's glorious past could lead to its designation as a historic site and therefore save the town from inundation.

To achieve this it would be enough to write down the stories that the town's older people are known for telling, replete with colourful details.

But for a writer, the only choice is Antonio Biá, the only person considered capable of recording the stories because all of the rest of the villagers are illiterate.

Biá is persona non grata in the village because, to justify his job at the post office -- useless in a town of illiterate people -- he wrote and sent letters to residents of other towns, reporting the idiosyncrasies and poor habits of the residents of Javé.

They ultimately have to reinstate the ”writer”, who was exiled to the town's periphery and who describes himself as an ”intellectuary”, and entrust him with recording the oral memory of the community.

The mission proves to be impossible, with neighbours' contradictory versions about the same event, recalling for film aficionados ”Rashomon”, by Japanese director Akira Kurosawa.

Each one tells the story about the founding of the town that is in his or her best interest.

Indalecio, the town's founding father, is remembered by an alleged descendent as European and as a model of courage, while others say he was of African origin and a leader of Brazilian blacks. Or, his role was secondary, says one woman who claims that a female relative of hers was the town's founder.

The clashing histories exhaust any motivation that Biá had to complete the project. He is more interested in benefiting personally form the situation or inventing his own ”more literary” version of the stories.

His notebook is blank, with only a few doodles and scrawls he made while pretending to listen to the storytellers.

In the end, the town is flooded by the reservoir and Biá tries to justify his non-compliance in writing down the stories, responding to the villagers' insults that Javé would have been inundated anyway because its residents are ”semi-illiterate” and don't mean anything to the rest of the world.

His view is a cruel summary of the rules of ”progress”. But he cries for the disappearance of the town and decides to take seriously the business of recording his neighbours' histories.

This is Caffé's second feature film. It confirms her talent and is emblematic of the growing presence of women among the new generation of Brazilian filmmakers.

Her first premiered in 1998, ”Kenoma”, which was seen as promising, but lacked the emotion that erupts in ”Narradores de Javé”.

The lead actor, José Dumont, who plays Biá in a Chaplinesque way, is the soul of the film, a veritable ”co-author”, says Caffé.

Many of the lines that get audiences to laugh the loudest are his own improvisations. For example, he describes a man who tries to insert dentures that are too big as ”ninja sperm” and ”a crocodile in heat”.

Dumont, who has won many awards for the 35 films in which he as acted, developed the character based on his childhood in a town similar to Javé, in the poor provinces of northeast Brazil.

Despite his successes, Dumont lives a modest life in Rio de Janeiro, typical of talented actors who remain famous but relatively poor because they lack the sex appeal and looks to land roles in Brazil's renowned soap operas -- the main source of income for the stars.

In addition to Dumont, the participation in the movie by the local residents where the film was shot, in rural Bahía state, also gives the audience someone to identify with.

The non-professional actors helped ”Narradores de Javé” to sweep the film festival in Recife, another northeastern city, winning nine awards last year.

Caffé's work is being shown only in Brazil's ”art film” theatres, which sharply limits its box office potential.

Independent Film Gets Their Party On Target
Tue, Feb 24, 2004, 04:02 PM PT
By Holly Aguirre

LOS ANGELES (Zap2it.com) - Whether it's in the snow or by the sea, the event planners for IFC and Target really know how to party. To the delight of party-goers, the duo is teaming up to co-host this year's Independent Spirit Awards after party. On the heels of their wildly successful gala that featured dancing, cocktails and fountains of chocolate at the Sundance Film Festival, IFC and Target are taking their partnership from the snowcapped mountains of Park City to the sandy beaches of Santa Monica.

The event will take place at the trendy Shutters on the Beach, Saturday, Feb. 28, immediately following the awards ceremony which honors accomplishments in independent film for the 2003 box office year.

Indie darling Rosanna Arquette has been tapped to spin tunes for the event.

As co-host, Target has invited Kate Spade and Jack Spade to design exclusive IFC bags, which will be given to party attendees. Sundance revelers were treated to an Isaac Mizrahi-designed tote and cashmere accessories.

For years, IFC's Independent Spirit Awards after party has been the hottest spot for celebrities and filmmakers to continue the celebration of independent cinema. The star-studded event has been host to many indie actors and supporters such as Hilary Swank, Marisa Tomei, Chloe Sevigny, Jennifer Beals, Jennifer Tilly, Joe Pantoliano, John Waters, Juliette Lewis, Kirsten Dunst, Maggie Gyllenhaal, Jake Gyllenhaal, Patricia Clarkson, Robert Duvall, Scarlett Johansson, Thora Birch, Illeana Douglas, Jon Favreau, Marcia Gay Harden, Dennis Hopper, Ang Lee and many others.

The after party will also celebrate two of IFC's celebrated films "Pieces of April" written/directed by Peter Hedges and starring Katie Holmes and Patricia Clarkson, which was nominated for best screenplay and the John Cassavetes award as well as "Camp," written/directed by Todd Graff, which received a best debut performance nomination for Anna Kendrick.

The John Cassavetes award is given to the best production made for less than $500,000.

Steve Beeks Named President of Lions Gate Entertainment Inc., Joining Senior Management Team

VANCOUVER, BC & SANTA MONICA, Calif.--(BUSINESS WIRE)--Feb. 25, 2004--
Appointment Reflects Continued Rapid Progress of Integration of Artisan Entertainment

Industry veteran Steve Beeks has been named President of Lions Gate Entertainment Inc., it was announced today by Lions Gate Chief Executive Officer Jon Feltheimer and Montreal-based Lions Gate Entertainment Corp. Chairman Andre Link. Lions Gate Entertainment (AMEX:LGF) (TSX:LGF) is the premier independent filmed entertainment studio.

Beeks will have responsibility for several corporate operations and divisions, with oversight of all of Lions Gate's home entertainment businesses. Beeks reports to Feltheimer and joins Lions Gate's senior decision-making team.

Following the merger of Lions Gate and Artisan, Lions Gate Home Entertainment has emerged as the largest and most powerful home entertainment business in the indie world, ranking #8 in the entertainment industry overall with 4.35% market share. Lions Gate Family Home Entertainment, one of the largest and fastest-growing family entertainment operations in the industry, ranks #4 in the industry overall with 6.6% market share.

Beeks has previously served as President of Artisan Home Entertainment since 1998 with responsibility for all business aspects of the division, which grew from approximately $115 million to approximately $300 million in annual revenues during his tenure. Previously, Beeks started Hallmark Home Entertainment in 1994 and served for eight years as a business development executive for The Paragon Group and Executive Vice President, then President of Home Entertainment for Republic Pictures following Paragon's purchase of a controlling interest in Republic in 1986. He holds an MBA degree from the Harvard Business School.

"Andre Link, Michael Burns and I are delighted to welcome Steve to our senior management, and his appointment underscores our rapid and successful integration of Artisan," said Feltheimer. "At Artisan, Steve demonstrated that he can grow a business with efficiency, innovation and profitability. We look forward to his use of those proven skills in our continued corporate growth."

"I am thrilled to join Jon, Michael and the rest of the Lions Gate team in a company that has created unlimited opportunity," said Beeks. "Over the past four years, Lions Gate has shown that it can execute a disciplined growth plan with superb results. With our expanded arsenal of assets following the merger, we are well positioned to build on our leadership as the premier independent filmed entertainment brand in all of our core businesses."

Feltheimer also announced that Wayne Levin, Executive Vice President of Business and Legal Affairs for Lions Gate, has also been promoted to Executive Vice President, Corporate Operations. Levin will continue to serve as Lions Gate's General Counsel with responsibility for legal and business activities and will now have expanded corporate operational responsibilities. Levin will report to Beeks on corporate operations issues and to Feltheimer as General Counsel.

Feltheimer noted that Lions Gate will announce its full executive infrastructure going forward in the next few weeks.

Lions Gate Entertainment is the premier diversified independent producer and distributor of motion pictures, television programming, home entertainment, family entertainment and video-on-demand content. Its prestigious and prolific library of 8000+ titles is one of the largest in the industry and the biggest in indie history. The Lions Gate brand name is synonymous with original, daring, quality entertainment in markets around the world.

www.lionsgatefilms.com

Posted on Fri, Feb. 27, 2004

97 films to be screened at NC documentary film festival

Associated Press

DURHAM, N.C. - Some 97 films will be screened during the four-day run of this year's Full Frame Documentary Film Festival, the event's executive director said.

Of those, 67 are in competition and 30 have been invited or will be shown as part of curated programs during the festival, April 1-4.

Judges screened more than 700 films, including more international entries than in previous years, said Nancy Buirski, executive director.

"Filmmakers this year took a wide range of concerns and artistic challenges, and we have tried to reflect that diversity in the films we have chosen to be part of the competition category," Buirski said.

The festival includes some early critical favorites, such as Morgan Spurlock's "Super Size Me," about the director's 30-day McDonald's diet, as well as films that will be seen for the first time in the United States, she said.

"We've found a balance between the films that have already excited critics and gems we feel deserve to be discovered by a wider audience," Buirski said.

One of the special events is "An Evening with Harry Shearer," hosted by Kurt Loder and sponsored by MTV. Shearer, whose acting and writing credits include "This is Spinal Tap," will screen and discuss excerpts from his film.

Another is a tribute to Marcel Ophuls, including the screening of his 4.5-hour work from 1976, "The Memory of Justice," which travels from Nuremberg to Vietnam in exploring responsibilities of war.

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