Beyond Inspired

I'm starting to see some familiar faces...Not it's not déjà vu. (crappy film or mind game) Sitting in the theatre, waiting for Esperando, Gordo, and Beyond the Call, I recognized several familiar faces from past screenings-not just filmmakers, but also film enthusiasts. That's not to say I didn't recognize some filmmakers in the audience. I saw Jose Lemus (the director of Suckerfish) and Hoku Uchiyama (the director of Rose) sitting in the audience. And I've been running into directors in the parking garage across the street from The Palm. As odd as it may sound, seeing these incredible artists in an ordinary setting gives me something of a thrill. Maybe I'm starstruck...not in the moronic, panty-throwing sort of way but in a quieter admiring-them-from-afar fashion. I think I'm still having a difficult time reconciling the fact that the amazing things I see on the screen were born from actual human beings.

The first of the three films that I saw today-Esperando, which means hope...or at least, I think (hope) it does, was black and white with dialogue in Spanish and English subtitles. The director, Michael Flores, mentioned that he was a Cal Poly student who actually attended a film class at The Palm...it's amazing to think he started dreaming of a career making films in the same theatre that everyone got to see his beautiful creation. His enthusiasm for film even excuses the fact that he is a USC student (a generally unpardonable crime).

Gordo, the second short film, also had subtitles. This was a hilarious movie. It's about a guy (Gordo) who owns a taco stand in Mexico and uses a secret ingredient (tamarind) to make the stand wildly popular. To support his pregnant wife and almost-born daughter, he sneaks across the border into the US only to find that an illegal immigrant can't get the necessary papers to open a taco stand in the US. So, he does the next best thing and begins working for a chain store that sells taco-utterly without soul and with questionable ingredients, but cheap. On the sly, he begins to add his own secret salsa to the tacos, and the store's sales skyrocket. I'm not going to give everything away here, because I think everyone should try and find a way to watch this amazing film; let's just say that when the little guy stands in the way of corporate profit, he tends to get run over. But at least he still has his wife and daughter in Mexico. Director Vince Navarro had some really funny stories about filming-describing the entire crew set up in tents in his aunt's backyard in Watsonville. Primo Gonzales, who played the main character, agreed to cut his hair, gain weight, and grow a mustache for the role. All in all, it sounds like a group with a lot of heart and that came across in the film.

The final film, Beyond the Call, was the shocker of the afternoon. I attended this tri-screening because I was really interested in Gordo, and I didn't give Beyond the Call too much thought. In fact, this 80-minute documentary nearly brought me to tears. Three men-Ed Artis, James Laws, and Walt Ratterman use their private funds and time to travel around the world for various humanitarian causes. They bring a solar-powered oven to a girls' high school in Afghanistan and donate funding so that the teachers at another girls' school in Afghanistan can get paid. They bring food to refugees in various countries, not sending the food, but literally traveling (by an necessary means) to hand-deliver the resources to people in need. They bring medicine to heal the many wounds and ailments (many war-related) to citizens. And believe me, this is not your average non-profit humanitarian organization. These guys are cowboys, total badasses, who are so kind and generous and determined that I wish the world was chock-full of these huge-hearted, bad-ass cowboys. They don't question anybody's religious or political convictions. Their aid comes completely without clauses.

Beyond the Call began with one of the men stating that "When I was younger I knew I wanted to be something but I didn't know what..." He did, however, know that he didn't want to be lazy or watch the world pass him by. And he's right...Few of us know, absolutely, what we're meant to be doing but that doesn't mean that we should sit on our asses while we figure it out. And these guys aren't the annoying saint type either. They're playful, intense, and human. One stock-piles things he might need in the event that he can't get out of his house (toilet paper and freeze dried food) and uses solar power to generate energy for his house. Another plays with an 18th century cannon sitting in his yard (and by play with, I mean sets off) and rides his miniature locomotive. Did I mention that he has a death mask of Napoleon? And a third describes his goofball youth, commenting that if he were a child now they'd probably drug him up or put him in a straightjacket. These are very humorous men. But they also mean business. When necessary, they are armed. They've been shot at, Ed was kidnapped. You name it, and they've done it or seen it.

They're real live knights (they've been knighted by different countries) and they act the part...they even had a Betty Crocker bake-off with some students at the girl's high school in Afghanistan...using the solar powered oven they brought, of course. As I watched this film, with growing admiration, sadness, and anger (there are so many problems in the world and so few people seem to care), all I could think was "Damn, these men know how to live!" The organization that they started, Knightsbridge International, have a web-site at www.kbi.org. You can e-mail them at KnightsBrg@aol.com and you can buy this DVD at www.beyondthecallmovie.com. Also, and this is VERY important, there is another opportunity to see Beyond the Call at the Palm at 12:00 on Sunday (with the time change, it'll feel more like 11) and I urge you to go and see it, if you possibly can. You'll laugh. You'll probably cry. And you'll get to meet real live cowboy/ knight Ed Artis in the flesh and talk to him about his upcoming project to bring aid to Darfur. What could possible be better?

Three generations of shredding surf film makers!

Okay, first of all, What the hell? Bruce Brown smokes? I guess I was a bit naive about that because after last night’s (3/8/07) Mission Grill reception for three generations of surf filmmakers—Bruce, Dana, and Wes Brown—I expressed my “Bruce Brown smokes?” incredulity to New Times’ sales rep and hardcore surfer Lars Neshime, who exclaimed, “Have you ever seen his teeth?” Apparently not, Lars, but hells bells! The man spent a lifetime chronicling hardcore athletes! How could he … SMOKE!?! It’s bad for you!

Let this be a cautionary tale to you, young grommets! Don’t smoke or you may become an aging, highly revered surf filmmaker mobbed by fans demanding autographs at a tribute for you organized by an up and coming film festival. Shame, Bruce, SHAME! Nice job on the progeny, though.

Not only is Bruce the famed auteur behind the proto surf flick Endless Summer, but his genes have spread into two more generations of surf film raconteurs, who like their forebear, have woven narratives tales of the Sport of Kings. Dana’s film, Step into Liquid, chronicles the many forms surfing takes, from Midwestern Great Lakes wind chop surfers, to guys in Texas who follow around huge ships to surf their wake, to the shores of Ireland and Rapa Nui and other places we normally don’t think of as surfing meccas. The film screened to a less-than-full-but-still-appreciative house last night at the Fremont.

The youngest Brown, Wes, co-directed (with T.J. Barrack) last night’s second feature, Chasing Dora, which basically tells the story of a wild goose chase as three surfers—Robert Weaver, Marc Andreini, and Mickey Muñoz—go in search of the legendary and enigmatic (and possibly psychotic and criminal-minded) Mickey Dora, the famed “Cat of Malibu,” who in the ‘60s was the best surfer around but who eschewed and condemned surfing’s growing commercialism. Reputed to be living near J-Bay in South Africa, the three head off in a fruitless search for Dora.

These two films were preceded by the pre party for the Browns at Mission Grill, which was a real mob scene. From the moment Bruce was ushered into the patio, he was bombarded with requests for autographs on Endless Summer memorabilia. I haven’t seen that many aging surfers since that weekend I spend in rehab. All three generations of Browns also signed a custom surfboard that was raffled off at the screening. Out in front of both the grill and the theater were beautifully restored woody wagons. It was a real nostalgia fest. Local surf rock cover act The Dentures (like The Ventures, but they're all over 50 ... get it?) entertained the crowd. A fine time was had by all.

Alright, people. Don’t forget, there’s three days of films left, so check the festival web site at www.slofilmfest.org and hit some of these movies, and also keep in mind you can rub shoulders with some stars—or at least one—when James Cromwell is given the King Vidor Award on Saturday, March 10 at the Fremont, after which you’ll see a screening of L.A. Confidential, the 1997 crime and corruption flick that perfectly captures classic film noir. I’ll see you at the movies!