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Kim Voynar

By Kim Voynar Voynar@moviecitynews.com

Looks Like a Swell Swell Season

The film I most wish I was seeing at Tribeca right now is Swell Season, which Peter Knegt just wrote up for indieWIRE. The doc follows Once duo Marketa Irglova and Glen Hansard (my super-secret musician boyfriend) during their three-year tour following their Oscar win, in a film that started out to be a doc about musicians who won an Oscar, and ended up capturing the end of Irglova and Hansard’s personal relationship in the whirlwind aftermath of that glory.

I’m hoping (fingers crossed, fingers crossed) that Swell Season will be playing at SIFF next month, and that I’ll be able to write it up from here. Given that SIFF runs for something like 89,000 days, I should be able to squeeze it into my schedule, if it’s on their slate (which is due to be announced May 5, I think).

For now, though, here’s the trailer for Swell Season. A good trailer is about setting up the the story and creating a desire for “more” without being too long or giving away too much. And for me, the trailer for this little film does that just about perfectly.

More, please.

Also, if you’re interested in hearing about the behind-the-scenes action, here’s a video of the post-screening Q&A from Tribeca, from indieWIRE’s Peter Knegt:

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“I was 15 when I first watched Sally Hardesty escape into the back of a pickup truck, covered in blood and cackling like a goddamn witch. All of her friends were dead. She had been kidnapped, tortured and even forced to feed her own blood to her cannibalistic captors’ impossibly shriveled patriarch. Being new to the horror genre, I was sure she was going to die. It had been a few months since I survived a violent sexual assault, where I subsequently ran from my assailant, tripped, fell and fought like hell. I crawled home with bloody knees, makeup-stained cheeks and a new void in both my mind and heart. My sense of safety, my ability to trust others, my willingness to form new relationships and my love of spending time with people I cared about were all taken from me. It wasn’t until I found the original The Texas Chain Saw Massacre that something clicked. It was Sally’s strength, and her resilience. It was watching her survive blows to the head from a hammer. It was watching her break free from her bonds and burst through a glass window. It was watching her get back up after she’d been stabbed. It was watching her crawl into the back of a truck, laughing as it drove away from Leatherface. She was the last one to confront the killer, and live. I remember sitting in front of the TV and thinking, There I am. That’s me.”
~ Lauren Milici On “The Final Girl”

“‘Thriller’ enforced its own reality principle; it was there, part of the every commute, a serenade to every errand, a referent to every purchase, a fact of every life. You didn’t have to like it, you only had to acknowledge it. By July 6, 1984, when the Jacksons played the first show of their ‘Victory’ tour, in Kansas City, Missouri, Jacksonism had produced a system of commodification so complete that whatever and whoever was admitted to it instantly became a new commodity. People were no longer comsuming commodities as such things are conventionally understood (records, videos, posters, books, magazines, key rings, earrings necklaces pins buttons wigs voice-altering devices Pepsis t-shirts underwear hats scarves gloves jackets – and why were there no jeans called Bille Jeans?); they were consuming their own gestures of consumption. That is, they were consuming not a Tayloristic Michael Jackson, or any licensed facsimile, but themselves. Riding a Mobius strip of pure capitalism, that was the transubstantiation.”
~ Greil Marcus On Michael Jackson