In Praise of the Traverse City Film Festival

A few weeks before it began, my buddy Zac and I were talking about the Traverse City Film Festival. As a person who attended at least three screenings over the past three years, I was trying to articulate to Zac the"coolness" of the whole thing. As I was attempting to do so, Zac scrolled between Netflix and the film festival's website, saying "I usually check to see what movies are playing, then end up renting them," as if seeing great films was what the film festival is all about (to be fair, the festival's motto is "Just Great Films"). Well, seeing the movies doesn't even begin to explain the festival's appeal.

Yes, the Traverse City Film Festival shows good movies (and also some bad ones), but its appeal is much broader. Perhaps the only way I can explain its appeal to Zac without having him experience it for himself is by saying this: "The Traverse City Film Festival is the National Cherry Festival for Traverse City residents."

Anyone from Traverse City reading that statement knows the power of the sentiment.

Some background: The Traverse City Film Festival was founded in 2005 by filmmaker Michael Moore and co-founded by photographer John Robert Williams and writer Doug Stanton. Each year, the festival shows between 30-50 films at five downtown Traverse City locations: Lars Hockstead Auditorium, the Old Town Playhouse, the State Theatre, the Traverse City Opera House, and free evening outdoor screenings at the Open Space. The films range from classics (usually at the Open Space) to American independent films, documentaries, foreign films, and overlooked "classics" (can an old film that "bombed" be a "classic?"). Films show at 1, 4, 7, and 10 pm at all four indoor venues Wednesday through Sunday, with panel discussions, opening and closing night shows (this year was "Once" and "Moliere," respectively), and other special events scattered throughout the first week in August (this year, July 31-August 5). As far as the quality of films, that can obviously vary, but as a showing of the festival's previous success in picking winners, last year if a person in the Midwest wanted to see either "Little Miss Sunshine" or "Borat" months(!) before they broke nationally, the Traverse City Film Festival was the place to go.

(Ben's Note: Tomorrow's blog will feature short reviews of the six films my wife and I watched at the 2007 festival.)

But concentrating on the films would merely concede Zac's Netflix argument, which completely misses the point of the film festival. The simple fact is that Zac (and all my other friends from Traverse City who have since moved away) need to come see the film festival AS SOON AS POSSIBLE, because it is everything they would like to see from Traverse City in the summer without the crappiness that has become the Cherry Festival.

What do I mean by that? Well, if you have to stand in line for something during the Cherry Festival, you have to listen to some idiot talk about how awesome his "TC cherries" (they're actually probably from Washington state) are. If you have to stand in line for something during the Film Festival, chances are you're standing next to someone you know and haven't seen in years. You'll end up talking about what their kids are doing, and the new pizza place (Pangea's; it's very good). During the Cherry Festival, a person will have to wait two hours for a table at North Peak; during the Film Festival, five minutes. The point is that while Traverse City is way too busy, and full of "fudgies," during the Cherry Festival, it is only moderately busy, and full of locals, during the Film Festival. As Frank Costanza would have said in 1995, "It's a festivus for the rest of us!"

What makes the local flavor of the film festival so great is that the festival itself is so well put together, and, well, (to us the words of the previously mocked "fudgy") awesome. From the local bands playing before the showings, to the funny public service announcements that are filmed right in good 'ole TC, the MC's revving up the crowd, the programs, the sectioned-off seating for the jury, the recognition the local sponsors get from the audience, and the panel discussions with Hollywood big-wigs (and how those big-wigs then show little patience with our local, idiot reporters). Going to even one showing of the Traverse City Film Festival is making the realization that: wow, this is a BIG deal, and it's really cool.

Side Story: Not everyone realized how big this was going to be when it first opened in 2005. In protest of the inaugural film festival, a few local conservatives tried to produce a competing festival during the same week (the idea that the TC film festival might be liberal propaganda is so ridiculous it's not worth mentioning). They showed some "alternative" documentaries at different locations, culminating in a showing of "Michael Moore Hates America" that was so poorly planned the "children friendly" festival got an un-edited cut of the film that included graphic language, an oversight that begs for so many jokes I'm just going to leave it alone. What the protesters didn't realize with their "film festival" in 2005 is that they were competing against the "Real Deal," and there is no way to compete against that. My analogy at the time was it was like a person who hated Starbucks getting back at the mega-corporation by selling "real" coffee from a stand in their front yard. It's not really a protest, just pathetic.

And, of course, this gets us to the urgency for my friends to visit the Traverse City Film Festival now. Because, like the Cherry Festival used to be, all good ideas eventually become too big and too good to be left alone to their local populations. The Traverse City Film Festival can really only go in two directions: it can get really huge (like Sundance) and lose all its local charm (although it would be cool to see our local paper try to interview George Clooney and Steven Spielberg), or it can slowly die. It's a dilemma as old as time, and one that the Cherry Festival fought for a long time before finally becoming the behemoth it is today.

So, Zac, come see the Traverse City Film Festival before it gets too big. It's the local event you've been waiting for since carnival rides started making you sick.