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25th Northwest Film & Video Festival All Ratings Northwest Film Center at the Guild Theater 829 SW 9th Ave., 221-1156 Nov. 5-12, call for schedule $6 Riot grrrls, vegetarians and Native Americans--haven't Northwesterners grown tired of them? Not yet. True to form, the Northwest Film Center's 25th annual Film & Video Festival contains works by and about the aforementioned groups, and they often make for predictable, boring and obnoxious film subjects: We know you have girl power/rage; we've heard enough about the evils of meat; and yes, yes, dear God, the native people really were screwed over! Aren't there any other distinctively Northwestern types, philosophies and disenfranchised groups to be found in the visual medium? Thankfully, there are. With an eclectic bunch of features, documentaries and shorts, the series serves up an array of delights that range from the visually impressive to the pretentious yet entertaining. It's not entirely successful. There are a few stultifyingly dull documentaries, the worst being Backbone of the World: The Blackfeet, a chronicle of filmmaker George Burdeau's journey back to his Native-American roots. Also on the downside are the technically interesting but affected shorts. The Living, an artistically photographed piece ruined by the uncreative use of Zapruder film clips (oooohhh, history) and the musings of a guy with Buddy Holly glasses (oh yeah, college film class 1992), is the most annoying example. Otherwise, the festival contains works of both assured talent and great potential. With vivid contrast and complement, many of these films and videos would be outstanding to watch against each other, like Jennifer Abbott's animal-rights documentary, A Cow at My Table, and Ian Barbour's gleeful poultry-carnage short,Young Turkeys. With a conviction that will make even die-hard meat eaters think twice, Abbott's Cow is a one-sided but expertly reported indictment of the factory-farmed meat industry. After learning that a chicken's beak is as sensitive as your fingers, you will wince with pity when you watch a clucker being de-beaked. But Turkey can leave you with conflicted feelings. With perversely nerdy narration and an icky fascination with murder, this documentation of two guys who kill, pluck and cook a turkey is a beautifully filmed "how to" piece that is gross yet commendable: At least the guys are killing the bird themselves. Also of note are the more personal works, some of which manage to be incredibly moving without falling into the abused abyss of self-pity and overused irony. Honorable mentions include Todd Korgan's Johnny Bagpipes--a wonderful short that humorously celebrates the music of a Portland bagpipe player who wants to join a rock band--and Heidi Bollock's Attic Secrets, a short work about incest that has some of the most gorgeous, disturbing and compelling images ever put to film. The best of the self-confessional lot, however, is still Portland's own John Callahan. Appearing on the festival's special bill Animated Worlds--Two Decades of Portland Animation (Mission Theater & Pub, Nov. 11, $3), his classic 1993 short I Think I Was an Alcoholic is a hilarious and touching work of frank revelation. Conveyed with his irreverent, bizarre wit, Callahan's ordeal with alcoholism brings more insight to the problem than any overly earnest Clean and Sober-like account could. But out of all the festival's films, the one screaming for exposure
is Vancouver, B.C., director Gary Burns' fantastic Kitchen Party.
By far and away, Burns' picture is not only the best feature here but
one of the best movies about teenagers that I have ever seen. The title
hints at what occurs: While his parents are away at an overnight get-together,
high-school senior Scott (Scott Speedman) throws a party. But because
Scott's anal-retentive parents will not allow their son to set foot
in the living room in their absence, his shindig is strictly confined
to the kitchen. There are traps: To enforce the rule, Scott's mother
has made intricate vacuum cleaner patterns in the carpet; one fiber
out of place and he's busted. When his friends arrive, all sorts of
mishaps occur. Tammy (Laura Harris) leans a chair leg into the living
room and indents the carpet; Steve, Scott's older brother, escapes from
his pot-smoking hovel in the basement. Speaking in the clever, realistic
dialogue of teens, the film's unknown cast is superb. None of the young
actors appear forced, and all of them are likable and intelligent. Most
films that dissect suburbia are obvious or overly dark; Burns' film
is fresh and new. If you only see one of the festival's offerings this
year, make sure it's Kitchen Party--and don't feel guilty because
it's from Canada. - - - - - - - - - - - -
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