Dear Vancouver International Film Festival,
Oh, are you still around?
I'm sorry. I've disappeared.
I wish to apologize to you for the way I have slowly let you slip out of my consciousness over the last few years. I'm sorry, but I've had to let go of those glorious days with you. I've moved on. I've grown up. I don't have the time to see two movies a day anymore. I can't remember the last movie I saw in a theatre but something tells me it was of the lowbrow variety, well beneath your standards and taste, possibly Sex and the City, or Transformers.
But I just want you to know that I sometimes miss those times, VIFF, I really do. I invested so much in you, watched so many films, both wondrous and ghastly. Remember how I sat through the utterly incomprehensible Gozu, not even leaving when that woman on the screen gave birth to a full-grown man? Or the time I squirmed through the torture scene in Audition? But I also remember how my life felt changed after seeing Megacities, After Life, Hana-Bi (Fireworks), To Be and to Have, and Suzhou River. I miss your Dragons and Tigers films and talking about how mature Asian cinema had become, unbeknownst to all those "mainstream" moviegoers. Oh, how lovely it was to be a film snob, but being so tremendously entertained by South Korean movies like Attack the Gas Station and Volcano High (they were still foreign films!). I loved clapping in ecstatic raptures over some genius or another answering inane questions after their movie. And who could forget the time I made a drunken ass of myself to Don McKellar at the volunteer after-party because Last Night had just become my favourite film ever? Oh, Don, forgive me but it was my momentary brush with Canadian fame. I still think about it to this day, a decade later.
VIFF, I wish I could hold on to some tendrils of our past but I think its too late. Gone are the days when I could dedicate 32 hours of volunteer time to get a free pass. Gone are the days of attending matinee movies. I just don't have the time anymore. Maybe you can forgive me, and one day I'll come creeping furtively back into your arms, when my children are grown and I need a way of filling my empty days. You can cradle me in your uncomfortable movie seat arms, and rock me to sleep in front of a black and white film submitted by an unpronounceable Central Asian Republic. I promise to be engrossed.
Love and nostalgia,
Tina
posted by Tina on 10/02/2008 | 0 comments | #