It’s always so quaint to listen to the resounding sentiment of crowds and critics alike who lament their fatigue after four days of SXSW music. Sure, if you don’t know how to pace yourself, four days can wear on you, but keep in mind that, by this same time, us cinephiles have already been covering movies for nine solid days.
Fittingly, things kicked off with the (allegedly) Austin-set Song To Song, Terence Malick’s ode to this city’s nouveau-rich who dine gleefully on its soul, which had the most awkward post-screening pause I’ve witnessed. It’s customary to clap after a film festival screening, but on this particular night, there were a good 4 seconds of uncomfortable silence, like no one was really sure if they should clap.
That general sentiment seemed to be echoed by two women I overheard at the bar at the very next screening. When one asked the other if they’d planned on buying some wine, the other replied “Well, I need something to wash the taste of that movie out of my mouth.” Ouch.
Song To Song wasn’t the only film set in Austin to that made the rounds at SXSW this year. Noël Wells’ Mr. Roosevelt, which she wrote, directed, produced, and starred in, also took place in Austin, and felt more like an earnest representation of the city even on accident, especially considering her movie could have taken place anywhere.
Speaking of Mr. Roosevelt, I ended up at a screening with our own Danielle Houtkooper (or Koop, as we call her), and the two of us got loudly shushed by a woman to my left. Several minutes before the movie was even starting.
Although once the actual movie was playing, this same women kept repeatedly checking her phone (which even rang at one point), and as Wells’ character, Emily, pulled her bicycle up to a vacant coffee shop, she somehow felt it was appropriate to yell out “Oh, I know where that is!”
Due to some technical difficulties, the film was stopped a handful of times, and at one point started playing about 15 minutes back from where it had last left off, meaning we had to re-watch a very small part of the movie. Amazingly, this very small part happened to include the same shot where Emily pulled up to the vacant camera shop, which afforded me the golden opportunity to repeat her exasperated announcement of “Oh, I know where that is” at the exact same moment.
That wasn’t the only incident involving someone blurting out something stupid during a screening, either. For some reason, movies filmed in Austin are guffaw-inducing novelty for some attendees, (too many, really) and during Bob Byington’s Infinity Baby — which was filmed here but didn’t necessarily take place here — there was a shot of the Alamo Drafthouse theater. Yes, the same one that happened to be playing the movie that same afternoon.
“Boy, that looks familiar,” said the complete fucking stranger sitting next to me. Right in my fucking ear. It’s amazing to me how this glazed-eyed rube had somehow evaded every life lesson to not talk during the movie (especially at an Alamo Drafthouse theater), but somehow thought talking to a complete stranger sitting next to them, during the movie, was a good idea. Someone like me, who was trying to watch a fucking movie without the awe and amazement of someone so easily impressed.
It’ll always be a mystery to me how people can attend any screening, let alone at a festival, while assuming the entire theater needs to be privy to their personal commentary track.
But if I spent all my time what kind of crowd felt the need to talk during a screening only to loudly applaud once the credits rolled I wouldn’t be able to try and take advantage of everything SXSW had to offer.
For example, the two pop-up restaurants put up in honor of Twin Peaks and Better Call Saul, respectively. While Twin Peaks’ Double-R-Diner had a massive line wrapped around a couple blocks (I showed up early, too), I was able to get a few seconds in for a (very quick) photo opp at Better Call Saul’s Pollos Hermanos.
Though I was not, unfortunately, able to try their new curly fries.
Anyway, here’s how my week broke down in list form.
Number of movies seen: 11
Total free meals: 6 (Including one afternoon where I crashed a party at some tech incubator downtown.)
Movies I missed that I wanted to see: 5
Of those, the ones I missed due to scheduling conflicts: 3
The ones I missed because of simple exhaustion: 2
Total amount of paintballs that hit me: 3
Number of times I almost lost my sunglasses: 3
Total red carpets covered: 2
Number of lines stood in: 2 (Although one of those turned out to be unnecessary.)
Pairs of sunglasses that ended up destroyed: 1 (On the last day, too. Ironic.)
Actual bands seen: 1 (Har Mar Superstar Friday afternoon at Spider-House while I frantically tried to catch up on work).
Number of times my high-wire act of a schedule collapsed on me like a house of cards: 0 (Much to my amazement, though there were some close calls.)
Finally, without further ado, here’s my definitive ranking of SXSW films this year. Please note, even the worst film on this list was still great. Except for Song To Song, which is last on the list because it is a very, very, very bad movie.
11- Song To Song
10- Flesh & Blood
9- Bill Nye: Science Guy
8- This Is Your Death
7- Fits And Starts
6- Infinity Baby
5- Lucky
4- Baby Driver
3- The Big Sick
2- Mr. Roosevelt
1- Free Fire
The South By South Rest: Looking Back On 2017’s SXSW Film Festival
It’s always so quaint to listen to the resounding sentiment of crowds and critics alike who lament their fatigue after four days of SXSW music. Sure, if you don’t know how to pace yourself, four days can wear on you, but keep in mind that, by this same time, us cinephiles have already been covering movies for nine solid days.
Fittingly, things kicked off with the (allegedly) Austin-set Song To Song, Terence Malick’s ode to this city’s nouveau-rich who dine gleefully on its soul, which had the most awkward post-screening pause I’ve witnessed. It’s customary to clap after a film festival screening, but on this particular night, there were a good 4 seconds of uncomfortable silence, like no one was really sure if they should clap.
That general sentiment seemed to be echoed by two women I overheard at the bar at the very next screening. When one asked the other if they’d planned on buying some wine, the other replied “Well, I need something to wash the taste of that movie out of my mouth.” Ouch.
Song To Song wasn’t the only film set in Austin to that made the rounds at SXSW this year. Noël Wells’ Mr. Roosevelt, which she wrote, directed, produced, and starred in, also took place in Austin, and felt more like an earnest representation of the city even on accident, especially considering her movie could have taken place anywhere.
Speaking of Mr. Roosevelt, I ended up at a screening with our own Danielle Houtkooper (or Koop, as we call her), and the two of us got loudly shushed by a woman to my left. Several minutes before the movie was even starting.
Although once the actual movie was playing, this same women kept repeatedly checking her phone (which even rang at one point), and as Wells’ character, Emily, pulled her bicycle up to a vacant coffee shop, she somehow felt it was appropriate to yell out “Oh, I know where that is!”
Due to some technical difficulties, the film was stopped a handful of times, and at one point started playing about 15 minutes back from where it had last left off, meaning we had to re-watch a very small part of the movie. Amazingly, this very small part happened to include the same shot where Emily pulled up to the vacant camera shop, which afforded me the golden opportunity to repeat her exasperated announcement of “Oh, I know where that is” at the exact same moment.
That wasn’t the only incident involving someone blurting out something stupid during a screening, either. For some reason, movies filmed in Austin are guffaw-inducing novelty for some attendees, (too many, really) and during Bob Byington’s Infinity Baby — which was filmed here but didn’t necessarily take place here — there was a shot of the Alamo Drafthouse theater. Yes, the same one that happened to be playing the movie that same afternoon.
“Boy, that looks familiar,” said the complete fucking stranger sitting next to me. Right in my fucking ear. It’s amazing to me how this glazed-eyed rube had somehow evaded every life lesson to not talk during the movie (especially at an Alamo Drafthouse theater), but somehow thought talking to a complete stranger sitting next to them, during the movie, was a good idea. Someone like me, who was trying to watch a fucking movie without the awe and amazement of someone so easily impressed.
It’ll always be a mystery to me how people can attend any screening, let alone at a festival, while assuming the entire theater needs to be privy to their personal commentary track.
But if I spent all my time what kind of crowd felt the need to talk during a screening only to loudly applaud once the credits rolled I wouldn’t be able to try and take advantage of everything SXSW had to offer.
For example, the two pop-up restaurants put up in honor of Twin Peaks and Better Call Saul, respectively. While Twin Peaks’ Double-R-Diner had a massive line wrapped around a couple blocks (I showed up early, too), I was able to get a few seconds in for a (very quick) photo opp at Better Call Saul’s Pollos Hermanos.
Though I was not, unfortunately, able to try their new curly fries.
Anyway, here’s how my week broke down in list form.
Number of movies seen: 11
Total free meals: 6 (Including one afternoon where I crashed a party at some tech incubator downtown.)
Movies I missed that I wanted to see: 5
Of those, the ones I missed due to scheduling conflicts: 3
The ones I missed because of simple exhaustion: 2
Total amount of paintballs that hit me: 3
Number of times I almost lost my sunglasses: 3
Total red carpets covered: 2
Number of lines stood in: 2 (Although one of those turned out to be unnecessary.)
Pairs of sunglasses that ended up destroyed: 1 (On the last day, too. Ironic.)
Actual bands seen: 1 (Har Mar Superstar Friday afternoon at Spider-House while I frantically tried to catch up on work).
Number of times my high-wire act of a schedule collapsed on me like a house of cards: 0 (Much to my amazement, though there were some close calls.)
Finally, without further ado, here’s my definitive ranking of SXSW films this year. Please note, even the worst film on this list was still great. Except for Song To Song, which is last on the list because it is a very, very, very bad movie.
11- Song To Song
10- Flesh & Blood
9- Bill Nye: Science Guy
8- This Is Your Death
7- Fits And Starts
6- Infinity Baby
5- Lucky
4- Baby Driver
3- The Big Sick
2- Mr. Roosevelt
1- Free Fire
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