TIFF 07: Day 1 "super model pizza: our crust is as thin as super models."
Long, long day.
The sleep last night, for whatever reason, consisted of me waking up at least 6 times, probably more. Once awake, I'd rush to the sink to get water, since my entire body somehow managed to dry itself out completely. Before I knew it the sun was up and in my eyes (no curtains here), so on top of being dehydrated, it took forever to fall back asleep.
Finally, around 10am, I gave up on sleep and decided to get ready for the day. My plan was to go to the bike shop and buy a new tube, so that I could bike around today. On the way I'd get breakfast, and maybe exchange my currency so I could pay for said breakfast.
Knowing almost nothing about bikes, and unable to find out what type of tube I'd need, I decided to just take the whole tire off and bring it with me. Which mean finding the proper tool (an allen wrench, buried at the bottom of the toolbox), and removing the tire (which mean undoing all the work my shower had just done).
But it's the start of the day, so I decide that things can only get better, forget about being covered in grease, and start walking in the 90 degree heat. Half an hour later I run into a bank, get the money changed (the exchange rate is awful), and continue. Finally, 45 minutes after starting, I arrive at the bike shop. I get the tube, ask the guy how to put it in, and head back. In a severely stupid move, I skip breakfast (never doing that again). I get back to the apartment, walk the 5 flights, and begin to take the tire apart (I've never replaced a tube). The guy at the store said to inflate the tube some, so that it fits in properly and all. After a thorough search, I realize that there's no pump in the apartment. I ask a neighbor, who points me to the car wash across the street, where there's air.
So grudgingly, I walk back down the 5 flights, across the street to the pump, and then realize that I have no quarters. After a brief panic, I make my way to the Portuguese cafe across the street and get a dollar changed. The tube gets inflated, and by some miracle, I install it correctly.
Back across the street, another 5 flights, and I put the tire back on the bike. I decide that damn, I need food, so I better get going. Down the 5 flights, carrying a bike this time.
So the new goal was to go pick up my tickets, and get breakfast on the way (since the road is long, and there are tons of places to eat). Naturally, I forget the breakfast part, and go straight to the box office for my tickets (another 20 minutes or so, by bike). I wait in line for what felt like 20 minutes or so (and may have been longer) to get my tickets. That goes smoothly, and again my focus shifts to breakfast (by now it's lunchtime).
Being the dietary moron that I am, the ideal breakfast today is a chocolate croissant and some chocolate milk from Tim Horton's. There are two of them in the building where the box office is. Neither has croissants.
So I forget about food again, and decide to go find all the venues where I'll be seeing movies. I get lost (which was the point), and finally run into a place called Pizzaville (super model pizza was on the way downtown, I wish I had stopped). I go in, order a slice, and eat. Life is good for a minute. The pizza slices here are always big, and cut in two, so you feel like you're getting more. I am pleased.
After that, it's time to go to the North-end venues. Another 20 minute bike ride later, I've seen the places I'll be, and I stop in the park to just sit for a while, since going back to the apartment would make no sense (I've got to wait in a rush line later, and it's nearby).
Freshly rested from half an hour in the park, I head toward the last venue on my list and get another slice of pizza (sidenote: I haven't had an amazing slice of pizza yet. I'll keep looking). It's now something like 6pm, and I decide that it's as good a time as any to get into the rush line for the 7:45 showing of Young People Fucking. The rumors I heard about total strangers starting conversations in the lines of the festival prove true. I talk to this older guy about what he's seeing, what looks good, how I broke down my selections, and so on. I'm about 26th in line for this particular showing, and since I have nothing better to do, the wait doesn't bother me. The guy next to me told me he hasn't been let down by a rush line yet, so I've got some hope.
More time passes. and passes. and passes. Soon it's 7:30, and the director and his huge entourage show up for the screening. The line slowly crawls forward. At about 7:50, the two girls next to me get handed tickets (one of their professors just happened to be giving away two tickets at that exact moment). I'm starting to get frustrated. The movie may have started, and we're still waiting. Finally, I'm 3rd in line. It's probably 8:10, maybe 8:15. At about 8:25 they tell us that it's closed. There are no more seats.
....
I did have a backup plan though. So I rushed to another venue (getting honked at, and lost). When I get there, I can't find anything to lock my bike on. I'm flipping out cause I don't want to get stuck waiting in a rush line for nothing, again. I lock the bike to a tree and run over to the line. I ask the volunteer how the odds are looking, and thankfully they're good. It's a 1500 seat venue, so there's bound to be some extra seats. Another set of conversations in line arise, this time between myself, a peruvian who's into Joy Division, graphic novels, and artists being more creative when they're bipolar, a woman from Connecticut (I think), who doesn't really say a lot, and an opinionated Indian guy from Chicago who's been attending the festival for like 7 or 10 years. Most of the conversation was the Peruvian and the Indian going back and forth about whether medication affects creative artists, my awful rush line story, and general small talk. And then, the moment of truth. After only waiting in line about 20 minutes, I get to buy a ticket and go to my first screening of the festival. And I get a student discount.
Which brings me to the movie:
PERSEPOLIS (dir. Vincent Paronnaud & Marjane Satrapi, 2007):
I was pleasantly surprised. It was more enjoyable than I thought it would be, but it was about as good as I expected as well. Basically, it's the life story of Marjane Satrapi (from her graphic novel of the same name), told at lightspeed. For the first 20 minutes I didn't really have an idea of what was happening, and to be honest I still don't quite know. It was a rush, and it left a sort of blurred impression of Satrapi's lifetime. What I know is that there was a lot of conflict in Iran, she went to Europe, there was loud music and boys and hippies, she came back to Iran, there were still problems, she left again, and there were more boys. Oh, and her grandma was pretty cool. The whole family was a bunch of independent spirits, which inspired her. And there was a lot of the oral tradition going on. She's telling us a story and other characters tell their stories and so on.
The animation was pretty sweet, and for this film, it worked. Paronnaud and Satrapi took advantage of the flexibility of animation. I would have disliked it if it were live. In fact, it would've sucked.
Music played too big a role. In moments where I should have been moved by what I was seeing and being told, I was too busy noticing how hard the music was hinting at how I should be feeling to actually feel that way.
It was funnier than I expected. And more interesting than I thought. Satrapi's got an interesting life, what's even more interesting is that I'm sure she's not the only Iranian who's had the same experience. But that's a whole other thing.
Final Grade: B (solid, interesting, but with distractions)
And also, the Elgin is a great theater. It's huge, ornate, and classy. It reminds me of the landmark in Syracuse, or an old Broadway theater. Great venue.
After that, I biked back. It's took forever. But I did finally get my chocolate croissant and chocolate milk. And then I lugged the bike up 5 flights of stairs. I'm taking the transit tomorrow.
The sleep last night, for whatever reason, consisted of me waking up at least 6 times, probably more. Once awake, I'd rush to the sink to get water, since my entire body somehow managed to dry itself out completely. Before I knew it the sun was up and in my eyes (no curtains here), so on top of being dehydrated, it took forever to fall back asleep.
Finally, around 10am, I gave up on sleep and decided to get ready for the day. My plan was to go to the bike shop and buy a new tube, so that I could bike around today. On the way I'd get breakfast, and maybe exchange my currency so I could pay for said breakfast.
Knowing almost nothing about bikes, and unable to find out what type of tube I'd need, I decided to just take the whole tire off and bring it with me. Which mean finding the proper tool (an allen wrench, buried at the bottom of the toolbox), and removing the tire (which mean undoing all the work my shower had just done).
But it's the start of the day, so I decide that things can only get better, forget about being covered in grease, and start walking in the 90 degree heat. Half an hour later I run into a bank, get the money changed (the exchange rate is awful), and continue. Finally, 45 minutes after starting, I arrive at the bike shop. I get the tube, ask the guy how to put it in, and head back. In a severely stupid move, I skip breakfast (never doing that again). I get back to the apartment, walk the 5 flights, and begin to take the tire apart (I've never replaced a tube). The guy at the store said to inflate the tube some, so that it fits in properly and all. After a thorough search, I realize that there's no pump in the apartment. I ask a neighbor, who points me to the car wash across the street, where there's air.
So grudgingly, I walk back down the 5 flights, across the street to the pump, and then realize that I have no quarters. After a brief panic, I make my way to the Portuguese cafe across the street and get a dollar changed. The tube gets inflated, and by some miracle, I install it correctly.
Back across the street, another 5 flights, and I put the tire back on the bike. I decide that damn, I need food, so I better get going. Down the 5 flights, carrying a bike this time.
So the new goal was to go pick up my tickets, and get breakfast on the way (since the road is long, and there are tons of places to eat). Naturally, I forget the breakfast part, and go straight to the box office for my tickets (another 20 minutes or so, by bike). I wait in line for what felt like 20 minutes or so (and may have been longer) to get my tickets. That goes smoothly, and again my focus shifts to breakfast (by now it's lunchtime).
Being the dietary moron that I am, the ideal breakfast today is a chocolate croissant and some chocolate milk from Tim Horton's. There are two of them in the building where the box office is. Neither has croissants.
So I forget about food again, and decide to go find all the venues where I'll be seeing movies. I get lost (which was the point), and finally run into a place called Pizzaville (super model pizza was on the way downtown, I wish I had stopped). I go in, order a slice, and eat. Life is good for a minute. The pizza slices here are always big, and cut in two, so you feel like you're getting more. I am pleased.
After that, it's time to go to the North-end venues. Another 20 minute bike ride later, I've seen the places I'll be, and I stop in the park to just sit for a while, since going back to the apartment would make no sense (I've got to wait in a rush line later, and it's nearby).
Freshly rested from half an hour in the park, I head toward the last venue on my list and get another slice of pizza (sidenote: I haven't had an amazing slice of pizza yet. I'll keep looking). It's now something like 6pm, and I decide that it's as good a time as any to get into the rush line for the 7:45 showing of Young People Fucking. The rumors I heard about total strangers starting conversations in the lines of the festival prove true. I talk to this older guy about what he's seeing, what looks good, how I broke down my selections, and so on. I'm about 26th in line for this particular showing, and since I have nothing better to do, the wait doesn't bother me. The guy next to me told me he hasn't been let down by a rush line yet, so I've got some hope.
More time passes. and passes. and passes. Soon it's 7:30, and the director and his huge entourage show up for the screening. The line slowly crawls forward. At about 7:50, the two girls next to me get handed tickets (one of their professors just happened to be giving away two tickets at that exact moment). I'm starting to get frustrated. The movie may have started, and we're still waiting. Finally, I'm 3rd in line. It's probably 8:10, maybe 8:15. At about 8:25 they tell us that it's closed. There are no more seats.
....
I did have a backup plan though. So I rushed to another venue (getting honked at, and lost). When I get there, I can't find anything to lock my bike on. I'm flipping out cause I don't want to get stuck waiting in a rush line for nothing, again. I lock the bike to a tree and run over to the line. I ask the volunteer how the odds are looking, and thankfully they're good. It's a 1500 seat venue, so there's bound to be some extra seats. Another set of conversations in line arise, this time between myself, a peruvian who's into Joy Division, graphic novels, and artists being more creative when they're bipolar, a woman from Connecticut (I think), who doesn't really say a lot, and an opinionated Indian guy from Chicago who's been attending the festival for like 7 or 10 years. Most of the conversation was the Peruvian and the Indian going back and forth about whether medication affects creative artists, my awful rush line story, and general small talk. And then, the moment of truth. After only waiting in line about 20 minutes, I get to buy a ticket and go to my first screening of the festival. And I get a student discount.
Which brings me to the movie:
PERSEPOLIS (dir. Vincent Paronnaud & Marjane Satrapi, 2007):
I was pleasantly surprised. It was more enjoyable than I thought it would be, but it was about as good as I expected as well. Basically, it's the life story of Marjane Satrapi (from her graphic novel of the same name), told at lightspeed. For the first 20 minutes I didn't really have an idea of what was happening, and to be honest I still don't quite know. It was a rush, and it left a sort of blurred impression of Satrapi's lifetime. What I know is that there was a lot of conflict in Iran, she went to Europe, there was loud music and boys and hippies, she came back to Iran, there were still problems, she left again, and there were more boys. Oh, and her grandma was pretty cool. The whole family was a bunch of independent spirits, which inspired her. And there was a lot of the oral tradition going on. She's telling us a story and other characters tell their stories and so on.
The animation was pretty sweet, and for this film, it worked. Paronnaud and Satrapi took advantage of the flexibility of animation. I would have disliked it if it were live. In fact, it would've sucked.
Music played too big a role. In moments where I should have been moved by what I was seeing and being told, I was too busy noticing how hard the music was hinting at how I should be feeling to actually feel that way.
It was funnier than I expected. And more interesting than I thought. Satrapi's got an interesting life, what's even more interesting is that I'm sure she's not the only Iranian who's had the same experience. But that's a whole other thing.
Final Grade: B (solid, interesting, but with distractions)
And also, the Elgin is a great theater. It's huge, ornate, and classy. It reminds me of the landmark in Syracuse, or an old Broadway theater. Great venue.
After that, I biked back. It's took forever. But I did finally get my chocolate croissant and chocolate milk. And then I lugged the bike up 5 flights of stairs. I'm taking the transit tomorrow.
posted by js munoz at
12:39 PM
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