So, the festival. Essentially it was a small cockt…
So, the festival. Essentially it was a small cocktail party for a group of expatriates in Taipei. Most of the selections there were of dubious quality, I have to say, but ranging from impressive to cringe-inducingly bad. The fratboy contingent was strongly represented. The best thing there was a clever pencil animation called “Ah-qiu”, but most of the films were either sickeningly repetitive abstract exercises in futility or attempts to display to the world how little creativity certain individuals could muster in their films, while at the same time including every single wipe transition in their freeware editing programs. The coolest thing about the event was the venue; I have to say that the whole things is a good idea and definitely has potential. Hopefully by next year, if they continue, they’ll have a lot more to work with. Perhaps I will have something done by then as well, but I also hope to enter more substantial festivals.
Kirk and I went to Danshui today and walked around some of the old school campuses there. As always, we spent a few minutes drooling over what Kirk calls “our house“, a beautiful white house with a full veranda on a hill overlooking the river. It seems that Danshui is finally realizing that it has quite a bit of potential. They’ve cleaned up a lot of the streets and have reconfigured the waterfront into a pedestrian walk rather than a road for cars. It should be rather nice when it’s done. We watched the sunset and then had dinner at a restaurant on the waterfront. The view was great, but the food was mediocre and the people at the other tables were the typical obnoxious “Oh, let’s speak English and try to appear fashionable” types. I almost felt that I was back at the office.
Afterwards we took the MRT to the last night of the film festival, but they didn’t bother showing any of my films, so I retrieved my tape and we left. On the crowded subway home, Kirk took the only empty seat in the car next to a guy bent over his bookbag. I looked down and noticed that the book bag not only contained various books and papers, but was filled nearly to the brim with what looked like hot and sour soup. As I watched the guy heaved, and the level of what I realized was not actually soup rose and began to spill onto the subway floor. I moved to the other end of the car and canceled any thought of a late-night snack.
I’ve finally created a page for the Damn Book and included a sample chapter for all of you desperate publishers out there.
