PART 4 - SUNDAY: “Game Day”
The morning was upon us, Donan and I met up for breakfast and could talk about little else than how nervous we were about today’s screening. Luckily we had befriended many filmmakers, had seen a lot of films, and were always sure to let the filmmakers which project we were here with. Cecilia soon joined us, which was a welcomed distraction from the butterflies in our stomachs. We had attempted, after returning to the hotel last night, to located our elusive 3rd and 4th posters on the wall somewhere, but to no avail. But we had been assured that all the posters were at the hotel, and up on the walls, but we doubted it.
Donan and I snuck into the screening room for the 24-Hour Film Challenge (a competition for some of Marbella’s local filmmakers) and put “Chronicles” postcards on every single seat. We had befriended a lot of filmmakers, were sure to introduce ourselves to everyone whose film we attended and invite them our screening, plus the short film showing before ours was a marketing machine. They had big vinyl stand-up banners, teams of people in t-shirts, posters, postcards, bookmarks, the works. I had met the filmmaker on the first day of the festival, he seemed like a nice guy, but we didn’t have much to talk about (other than the pairing of our films and that we were looking forward to seeing each others work). My fears of premiering the film to an empty room had gone away, and the thought of screening it to only 15 people didn’t seem so bad either as I knew the 15 people whose opinions Donan and I were most interested in would all be present.
But still... calm as we might have looked, we were both total wrecks inside.
It reminded me of one day on the set of “Chronicles”. We'd spent the entire day, prepping for one shot. It was a meticulously crafted overhead shot which Donan would run into and completely destroy everything we’d set up. Simply put, we had one take. It didn’t matter how good or bad the shot turned out, because there was no way we had time to set up for a 2nd take. As we got closer and closer to being ready I could tell peoples’ nerves were beginning to get the better of them. Silly mistakes were being made, small things being forgotten, the little things that only helped to raise stress levels.
So, I put on my director hat, pulled everyone outside, and before doing The Shot gave my best attempt at an inspiring speech to calm down my cast and crew. I assured them that everything looked amazing, and I was confident that we could get this shot in one take and it would be perfect. I also assured them, that even if it wasn’t exactly what we planned, that that was okay. Whatever we get will be perfect, even if it's imperfect, because it’s the only shot we have. I told them I was proud of them, and believed in them, and deeply humbled by their hard work and long hours spent on what will be about 3 seconds in the film. Everyone felt much better and went inside with restored enthusiasm.
It was then that my friend, Erik (also producer and director of photography on the film), quietly approached and said, “That was a nice speech, Pete. How are you doing?”
“Me? I’m fine, I’m great.”
“You sure?” He looked at me skeptically, “because your left hand was shaking during the entire thing.” I grabbed my hand, which was still trembling.
“Okay,” I confided, “I’m nervous as hell and feel like I could puke at any moment... Do you think anyone else saw my hand?” He assured me that no one else had seen.
We went inside, got the shot, and it was perfect.
So, that’s how I felt now. Knots in my stomach and ready to puke, but putting on the smiles and handshakes for everyone in Marbella.
We skipped one of the documentaries Donan and I had been planning to see to go to the short films program instead. As I mentioned before, a lot of attendance was based on filmmaker commradery. The festival hadn’t done much for publicity. I didn’t see a single sign, banner or posting in historic Marbella, nor anything in the mighty Antonio Banderas Plaza. But a community had been built over the past few days and you wanted to support the people you’d been spending so much time with and vise-verse.
A couple more highlights:
PART OF ME (director: Mihaal Danziger) SYNOPSIS: Haunted by the betrayal of the closest person in her life, Nathalie searches for an outlet to her grief, but finds herself bound in dependency and suffocating love.TRAILER: http://www.imdb.com/video/wab/vi2974221849/
ANOTHER NIGHT (director: Zaira Brilhante) SYNOPSIS: A shabby old cleaner and a beautiful young woman. A chance encounter created by the love of cinema will lead to a charming and unlikely friendship. TRAILER: http://www.imdb.com/video/wab/vi3277128729/ 
AWAITING HER (director: James Joint) SYNOPSIS: Francisco, Jeffrey and Lula: a day in their life, their life in this day. In this world of men, we are still awaiting her... TRAILER: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U5E6EfOOSNA 
My absolute favorite short film of the festival was EL RÍO by Peruvian director Adrian Sabas. SYNOPSIS: A man stuck between his dreams and his memories struggles to find his lost wife. TRAILER: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D90DPXoiAhc
Not only was I was struck by this film’s beauty, but there were 3 or 4 shots that were almost composed almost identically to shots in “Chronicles” and I spent the 15 minutes between the shorts program and the screening of my film to track down the director, introduce myself and invite him to our screening. I figured by this point whatever mass numbers were going to be there were going to be there, but I really wanted this one guy to see our film.
In retrospect, I probably should’ve just stood by the door and told every single person I saw to go see my movie, herded them in, but I didn’t. I only wanted to find this one guy. Walking from group to group, asking if any of them had directed the film, or knew where he was. Alas, he could not be found. No one seemed to know who he was. Or, what he looked like.
And so, our screening began.
There were probably 40 0r 50 people in there, which I was very happy with. The back 2 rows were all wearing t-shirts of the short film that plays before my film, and I was happy to see that my comrade-in-arms had brought a good number of people to our mutual screening. Donan and I stood nervously in the back, fighting the urge to pace.
The short film ended, the crowd applauded, and then I felt my stomach shrivel to the size of a pomegranate seed when half of the audience stood up and walked out of the room.
Everyone who was there for the short film, was only there for the short film. Today, as I sit down to describe this, I have a much higher level of understanding, and therefore empathy. It was a festival, people wanted to see a bit of everything, walking in and out of screening rooms had been going on a bit. The filmmaker had brought a bunch of people, who had all worked hard to push his film, and after his screening he wanted to take his team out, grab a drink, unwind.
But in the moment, I was not so empathetic. It was a disorienting mixture of heartbreak and anger, like waking up early in the morning and finding you're out of coffee. Damn frustrating.
But the truth of the matter is that everyone who I wanted to see the film, everyone who promised me they would be there and who’s feedback I was looking forward to there. Butts in the seats, mostly in the front few rows. Again the festival reflected comradery and solidarity, on both sides of the fence. But, as experience often shows, solidarity need not come from every single filmmaker you meet and it never will. It only needs to come from the ones your respect, and who respect you in return.
And just for good measure:
CHRONICLES OF A LOVE UNFOUND (director: Michael E. Peter) SYNOPSIS:
The life and disappearance of Benjamin Douglas Shaw, revealed through interviews with every woman he has ever loved, dated, or spent the night with. TRAILER: http://www.straydogproductions.net/CLU_TEASER_B.mp4
I discussed the film later with everyone who had seen it and got tremendous feedback. Everyone seemed to really enjoy it, all the UK based filmmakers said they liked it a lot and Olly and Zaira (who I had met the day before and recommended the cheeseburger joint for me--Zaira directed the aforementioned short film called ANOTHER NIGHT) encouraged me to send it out to more festivals in London. It was great to discuss the film with filmmakers who had no history with me or the production. I can easily talk about why a scene was written or shot a certain way with my friends back home, who read rough versions of the script, were present for some or all of shooting, saw rough cuts of the film, or played a major role in the photography, music or performances. These were people who had no history with me and no reason to pretend that they liked it. Donan and I certainly hadn’t pretended with anyone. When we liked a film we told them, and when we had criticisms we told them that too.
We all dispersed to unwind a bit and clean up before the closing night Gala.
The evening went much like the past few. A lot of drinks, good food that in no way resembled Spanish cuisine, and brilliant conversation. “Chronicles” didn’t win Best Feature, neither did 180°. In the end, DO ELEPHANTS PRAY? won the grand prize, but I was very happy to see my new friends Justin take home Best Documentary for ABSENT and James Joint won Best Short Film for AWAITING HER. Daisy Lu-Wen had won Best Animated Film for her beautiful film OUT ON A LIMB.
After the awards ceremony, when everyone was taking pictures and mingling, someone grabbed my arm, called out my name, and as soon as turned thrust a young man in front of me and said “EL RÍO!!!” It was Adrian Saba, the filmmaker I’d sought after so tenaciously before my screening. I introduced myself, told him I loved the film, and how much I’d been trying to track him down. We mentioned that we was thinking about visiting Los Angeles soon, and remarked “I know, in LA you can throw a rock and you’ll hit a filmmaker.” I could not contain my glee upon hearing that. It is an expression I have used many, many times back home. Now, someone I had never met, whose film I loved, which has a few shots very similar to my film, and he even uses the same stupid expressions I do.
We all went to a bar afterwards, an army of impassioned, kind of drunk filmmakers in suits and dresses. As usual, we closed the bar out.
As people retired and the hotel turned down the lights there was still one order of business that needed attending. So it was that in the wee hours of the morning, still dressed up from our night out, Cecilia and I stood on chairs in the lobby stealing our posters from the wall.
EPILOGUE: “The Final Day”
We had one more day in Spain, although the adrenalin that managed to drive us through the hours of walking, watching, meeting and drinking was finally leaving out systems.
But, not at first. Once I went to bed I only slept for a couple hours. I got up with the sun, my body still in overdrive.
I had the most pleasant breakfast. It was, for lack of a better word, perfect.
I tried to sleep again, but failed. My heart and mind were racing too fast. I just lay on my bed, staring at the window. Watching the curtains tremble in the slight wind, the sun creating flares through the glass.
So, I went swimming.
Finally the adrenalin was starting to leave. So, I rousted Donan (who had slept all morning) and we changed rooms (from our fancy singles we booked through the festival, to a comfy twin we'd booked for the last day). I finally fell asleep, Donan quickly went back to sleep, and we did not move until 7:00pm.
We did the long beach-side walk to historic Marbella, and found a restaurant with actual Spanish food and a waitress who knew about three words in English. It was the restaurant we'd been looking for since the moment we landed. It was perfect.
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