Goodbye South

Goodbye South. Goodbye Waffle Houses, and interstates with wildflowers in the median and billboards for Fireworks MegaStores. Goodbye little ol’ ladies who take 30 minutes to give me extraordinarily precise directions to get where I am going. Goodbye sleepy streets and antebellum houses and revitalizing downtowns with 50s era storefronts. Goodbye sweet tea and wet vs dry BBQ battles and meandering conversations about why people are still compelled to reenact the Civil War. Goodbye flowering redbud tress, ancient moss-covered oaks and gator-filled bayous.

Goodbye rental cars, lost luggage and REALLY cranky airport policemen. Goodbye hours on the road with nothing to do but sing at the top of your lungs, look for the next exit, and talk and talk and talk to someone you never get to spend enough time with.

Goodbye quirky arts program directors with interesting backstories and 1930s movie palaces in various states of renovation or disprepair. Goodbye small southern colleges with students who call me m’am, and full houses of people who greet each inside joke of the film with a knowing chuckle. Goodbye showing my film to audiences that do not, necessarily, agree with me ahead of time - a rare and precious commodity. And goodbye to being reminded once again of the grace and warmth of the South, a place where people can disagree with you at the same time as making you feel like their favorite person, where no one seems rushed, where everyone uses their front porches, and where people will buy a DVD of your film after they’ve already seen it just to show they support you.

Goodbye Louisville, Cullowhee, Augusta, Charleston, Jackson, Mobile and Alexandria. I am sad this is over.

Last night’s screening in Alexandria was a fittingly sweet and magical ending to the Tour. Mom and I pulled into town after 7 hours on the road, checked into our hotel, and then headed over the pre-screening reception. We met Ben and Maggie, who run the Louisiana Arts Council program there, and chatted with the usual assortment of interesting locals, both native and transplanted, who come out to these screenings. After the film started we ducked out to grab some dinner (at this point, if I sit through the film one more time I’ll start calling out lines like the Rocky Horror Picture Show). On our way to the restaurant, we were pulled by the sounds of music coming from the other side of a levee a few streets away. We climbed a large grassy hill and found ourselves in the middle of perfect southern spring evening. A hopping zydeco band was playing on a stage in front of the river, people of all types, races and ages were dancing to the music, toddlers doing their little stiffed-legged hops of excitement as their parents clapped, and a warm breeze coming off the water like its own harmony. The band, an African-American “zydeco cha-cha” group, as they called themselves, sang and played the washboard with gusto as black men in cowboy hats and women in lizard skin boots danced a laughing two-step, hamming it up for the people who were sitting that song out. Mom and I couldn’t resist, twirling each other around and dancing like idiots (some of us more than others - don’t get me started on her Funky Chicken). For one song we joined a Cajun line dancing string of black women who were both highly amused and wonderfully encouraging about our complete inability to keep up. We pretty much got it down by the end. I think.

Finally, we dashed into a restaurant for a quick bite and back to the theater for the end of the film. I could tell the audience was into it, laughing and gasping at all the right parts, but when the lights went up and I stepped in front for my Q&A, I was unprepared for what happened next.

Out of a theater with over a hundred people in it, at 8:30 on a Friday night, not a single person left. They ALL stayed for the Q&A.

Now, after who knows how many showings all over the country since this film premiered over a year ago, I have never been to screening where every single person stayed for the Q&A. Not that I mind when people leave, I totally understand it, even expect it. But to see all of those faces turned to me, black white, young old, season ticket holders and people who just wandered off the street, all there wanting to know more, wanting to stay, wanting to share, well it just put a lump in my throat that hasn’t gone away a day later.

Or maybe they were just hoping to see Mom’s Funky Chicken.

So that’s how my last evening on the Southern Circuit Tour ended, full of serendipity and sweetness, with a great Q&A and a lovely dessert reception afterwards, with laughter, and insightful questions, and lemon chess pie (‘cause Lord know I didn’t eat enough on this trip.)

There have been so many great moments throughout this trip. With Kathy, with Mom, in all the different towns. I may not remember all of the names or places a year or five years from now, but I will absolutely remember this horizon of adventure and appreciation and Southern hospitality for a very very long time. And of that, as the white-haired lady giving us directions from the Mississippi Craft Center information desk said, “I am double barreled sure.”

Marvelous Mobile

So I know I'm starting to sound like a broken record when I talk about how much I've enjoyed the audiences at my screenings ("no, this was my favorite audience, no THIS was my favorite audience, no THIS REALLY was my favorite audience...") but can I tell you how great the audience was tonight? First of all, they entirely endeared themselves to me by being the first audience to proactively take advantage of my Feed An Independent Filmmaker Program, and bought several DVDs of the film BEFORE THE SCREENING. That's right folks - presales. These wonderful people didn't even know if they'd like the film, and they were already buying copies of it. So right there, they're getting bonus points.

Of course it didn't hurt that Mom was in charge of selling them. She was on fire - like the Vanna White of 'Bama Girl DVDs.

It was an entirely different audience from yesterday, older, whiter, not very many students. A lot of 'Bama alums or parents with kids that had gone or are going to 'Bama currently. They clearly knew of what I spoke. I do like playing to Alabama audiences -- I get nervous because I worry they'll feel defensive, or that I oversimplified, but I also appreciate being able to have sophisticated conversations about the film where everyone already knows the backstory. Anyway, the film got an overwelmingly positive reaction and inspired a great Q&A, though interestingly some people seemed uncomfortable talking about the Machine (or more precisely, using its name in public) while others wanted to make sure I knew they were proud of their kids even if they were currently involved in organizations affiliated with the Machine. Overall a very interesting evening.

And I SOLD OUT of my DVDs. Baby needs a new pair of shoes!

After the screening we went out for a drink with our host, the thoroughly delightful Charlie Smoke, who is an asset to the Mobile arts community, with a lot of passion for and knowledge about the field. They are lucky to have him here.

But a recap of the day would not be complete without a nod to our lunch destination, the legendary BBQ destination in Hattiesburg MS, Leatha's BBQ Inn. I'm not sure why it's called an "inn", since it's not anywhere one could stay, unless they rent out the space under the tables. It's a little shack off the 98W, with plastic laminated tableclothes, faded newspaper articles about the founder on the walls, and the sweetest sweet tea this side of Willy Wonka's Chocolate Factory. The BBQ was abundant and delicious, and we ate so much of it I believe I could live off the stored calories for a good fortnight. (Not actually sure how long that is, but it sounds long, doesn't it?)

Tomorrow is Alexandria, and the last stop on the tour. Which would really bum me out if I thought about it. So I'm not going to. Yet.

Refuge in Jackson

I fled a thunder and hailstorm this morning in DC to arrive happily in the balmy warmth of Jackson MS. At the airport I met up with my companion for the next (and final) leg of the Tour -- my mother.

Yes, my mother.

And no, not because I am 16 years old, but because, on the contrary, I am a married mother of two little kids living across the country, and mom never gets to see me. So we thought this would be a good opportunity for some quality mother/daughter time. Which I'm sure it will be.

It's just that it's a little odd explaining to the venue hosts that I am bringing my mother with me.

So here we are in Jackson MS, which I haven't seen all that much of. We rushed straight from the airport to the screening, held at Millsaps College and hosted by the charming Melissa Kelly, a psychology professor at the college and a wonderful dinner companion. At five minutes to the start of the film, there was a sparse scattering of students in the theater, and I started to get a little nervous. Thank goodness for the perennial tardiness of college kids though, they all came pouring in with seconds to spare and the screening was packed. They were a fantastic audience, laughing at throwaway shots and little verite moments that I thought only I appreciated. I saw more than one student crying at the climactic moment, and heard audible gasps when the tension was high. Seriously, I love these guys. I want to rent them to come to all my screenings.

As the lights came up and the Q&A started, I realized that a significant section of the audience was part of the white Greek system on campus, sororities and fraternities, and a few boys were even members of the Millsaps chapter of KA, a fraternity I show in my film parading around in front of the black sorority house in Confederate uniforms for their annual "Old South" week. They seemed nonplussed but not hostile towards the film, saying I had done "a good job" but also noting that the Alabama chapter that I showed was the most "decorated" chapter in the KA membership. I'm not sure what you get decorations for in that world (I'm assuming it's not matching your throw pillows with your drapes) but it seemed to be something to be proud of.

I wish we'd had more time to talk about the positive and negative sides of Greek life, but overall I was so thrilled to be able to show the film to these kinds of audiences - young, collegiate, partly Greek. It's really been a strong point of this tour for me, at several of the academic venues. No offense to the usual film festival crowd, which I love, but preaching to the choir has it's limits. Sure they know the chorus, and they'll harmonize with you on key, but you're probably not teaching them any new hyms. Being able to take my argument to these kids though, to watch them consider things from a new angle, maybe make them think analytically about something that they took for granted, well that, in a nutshell, is part of why I made this film in the first place. So screenings like tonight are pretty darn gratifying.

Tomorrow, a renewal of our quest for good BBQ ( we have a good lead in Hattiesburg, 2 hours away) and let's see what Mobile Albama has in store for us.

Back from Beyond

Sorry to be incommunicado. After two great (but as yet unblogged) screenings, I ducked back to DC for some work and kid time, back on the road - and the blog - tomorrow.

But first some updates. Charleston SC got off to an inauspicious start. Dropping Kathy off at the airport, already a sad event, I evidently triggered the ire of an underworked airport policeman. Despite there being NO other cars in the airport, this gentlemen took quick and vehement exception to my waiting in my running car in the loading zone for for Kathy to check her flight status. As I had her purse and computer with me, I did not want to drive off and circle, but asked his forebearance for two or three minutes. No such luck, and quicker than you can say Do You Have A Brother That Works For the DMV? I found myself in possession of a $230 ticket for disobeying a police officer! Now I had somewhat resigned myself to getting one ticket on this long journey, but I thought it would be for speeding, not civil disobedience. And I wasn't even singing We Shall Overcome as he was writing me up.

Thankfully, the rest of the Charleston leg was much better. The town itself is delightful and gracious, with a lovely waterfront and gorgeous old antebellum houses. It's a bit like New Orleans, but without the voodoo or 3 gallon drive-thru daquiris. The screening went swimmingly - Mark Sloan and his staff at the Halsey Institute of Contemporary Art were a pleasure and the screening was well attended. The Q&A afterwards was lively and I think everyone went home happy. I know I did.

From Charleston it was a relatively short hop to Augusta GA, where the film screened at the beautiful old Imperial Theater, lovingly helmed and kept up by Charles Scavullo. Other filmmakers here have written about Charles and the town, but it definitely lived up to it's reputation. Confederate memorials and slightly-less-than-life-sized statues of James Brown live side by side, there are a few great restaurants, and the old downtown has a retro charm. I went back to my lodgings after a good screening and a nice post-screening dinner with Charles, a local filmmaker and teacher, and a charming French couple who landed in Augusta 3 years ago for the husband's job and seemed bemused to find themselves still there. At that point the evening got a little less fun, but no less picturesque, as my room was apparently 3 inches above the local VERY POPULAR bar which hosts an equally popular karaoke night every Saturday. Until 2 am. Believe me, I know.

You haven't really experienced the South until you are sleeping in a four poster bed with toilet paper in your ears desparately hoping that one of the revellers below you will choose SOMETHING other than Shania Twain sometime in the next half hour.

But all's well that ends well. Got a few hours of sleep, made my flight home, and now, three days later, I'm ready to do it again.

Upwards.

Cullowhere?

That was the refrain going through our heads (in between singing at the top of our lungs to Cher - don't ask) as we made the 7 and a half hour trek between Louisville and Western Carolina University. A mostly fun and painless trip, leavened by a hour detour into Knoxville TN to find quintessential southern BBQ for lunch. (Sadly, after getting directions to various BBQ establishments from a 97 year old man in a golf cart, a drunk pregnant woman smoking a cigarette, two businessmen in ties and a janitor with a russian accent, we ended up eating Chinese chicken salads at a sidewalk cafe.)

We finally rolled into Western Carolina University, Cullowhee NC (Go Catamounts!) in the late afternoon. Dr. Elizabeth Heffelfinger, a great professor of film here, was our host. After doing an intro to a packed house (I'm on a roll) she took us out to the only BBQ joint in town. So mission accomplished there, although we're still looking for that perfect BBQ sandwich.

For the first time since I can remember, I was nervous about the Q&A. This was not some older, liberal film festival crowd. These were all college kids, many of them Greek, trending conservative, not obviously predisposed to be contemplative about race and politics. In part, my film is about these kids, or kids like them, so if they thought I got it wrong, then I really got it wrong. And also, the film is premised on basic assumptions about world view that I wasn't sure this crowd shared.

As it turns out, I needn't have worried. They were polite, interested and thoughtful in their questions. Perhaps more questions about fraternities and less about racial politics than I am used to, but good questions and a lot of interest. I think, or at least hope, that it gave them a window into a point of view that they wouldn't otherwise have spent an hour and a half pondering. Or maybe they were just hanging around politely for the free pizza following the Q&A...

Tomorrow it's on to Charelston SC, which I hear is beautiful. And I'm looking forward to seeing the water. I lose Kathy so I'll be on my own for a couple days. All the more time for blogging.

Night.

Lucky in Louisville

First screening in the tour (or rather, my first screening in the tour) tonight and it went off swimmingly. After landing in the lovely city of Louisville and getting lost on a number of identical looking industrial bridges (someone later in the evening told me they are thinking of adding MORE, which really seems unnecessary unless one has an irrational fear of riverbanks) we checked into our hotel. I am traveling this leg with the Marvelous Kathy Fletcher, a colleague and partner in crime who has come along to help with the driving and inappropriate smirking for a few days.

The Kentucky Center for the Performing Arts is a beautiful soaring space in a cute built up downtown area, and the volunteers there are worth the visit alone. There was a terrific turn out for the film, almost a full house, and everyone stayed around for a lively and engaging Q&A. I love these audiences - smart, interested, all with their own interesting backstories. After the screening Tom, the Programming Director at the Center, took us to the most fabulous bar/restaurant/hotel/art space, 21c, which not only would not have been out of place in Tribeca or Notting Hill - it would raise the bar considerably. There we were wined and regaled by Tom, an assortment of darling Dans, Ted, and a charming and gracious local filmmaker, Stu, who took us under his wing for much of the evening. My favorite thing about Louisville so far is that everyone has a fascinating origin myth -- how they ended up in Louisville from NY, CA, Alabama, DC, why they stayed, and what they're doing. Clearly an interesting place and one in which I need to spend more time (especially in the 21c Bar.)

But not now sadly, as we have 8 hours of driving ahead of us, if we're lucky, tomorrow, to get to Cullowhee NC. Which I can't yet pronounce correctly, but I will have hours to practice.

Onwards.

Counting Down

Two days before I leave for the first leg of 'Bama Girl's Southern Circuit Tour (though only one day before the first screening -- the lucky audience members at the first official Tour date, in Jacksonville Florida, will be delighted to find that they get a Q&A with Jessica Thomas, the star of the film, instead of having to hear me blather on about my "craft.")

I am certainly looking forward to the audiences and questions as I traverse the South. A little less certainly looking forward to the hours on various Interstates in a Ford Taurus or whatever rental car they give me, with a numb rear end and counting the exits until I can get some more fries at the next TGIFridays/IHOP/Taco Bell. But it'll definitely be an adventure. One which will undoubtedly leave me with an even greater appreciation of the beauty and diversity of the South. Not to mention the need for a jumbo tube of Clearasil.

Onwards!