Ava DuVernay is the writer/director of the Sundance Film Festival selection “Middle of Nowhere.”*
For the majority of independent filmmakers the world over, Sundance is the brass ring of American film festivals. It’s the one they want. The one where at least one Cinderella story unfolds just about every year. The one where studio honchos congregate and truly pay attention to your film, even for 97 minutes. And, the one that has programmers known fabulously by one name. When you hear “Cooper” in the indie film world, its pretty much like someone saying “Arianna” in the digital world or “Oprah” in, well, the rest of the world. Yes, I just compared Sundance Film Festival head John Cooper to Oprah. But when you hear your film has been selected to unspool in Park City, it does kinda feel like, “You get a car! You get a car!” Except the car is the coolest looking laurels in town.
When I got the acceptance call from prolific senior Sundance programmer Shari Frilot before Thanksgiving, I didn’t have an Oprah audience reaction. It was a quiet moment. A slow-motion moment. My film’s submission to the festival certainly meant something to me, but in the way that a long-shot means something to you. You want it. It’d be so, so lovely to have. But don’t take things too far, kiddo. You know this is not going to happen. Just play it cool. Submit and forget. And that’s what I tried to do. Shari’s call brought an unexpected joy.
One of the things that I love about having the Sundance experience at this point in my filmmaking journey is that I was really happy before that call. Where I was before Sundance selected my second feature, was a beautiful place. My previous work had been embraced by other wonderful festivals – African-American and majority culture fests. I’d seen my previous film, “I Will Follow,” open theatrically to packed houses in New York, Los Angeles and beyond through the black distribution collaborative known as AFFRM. I’d talked to moviegoers at my screenings and really listened and learned from them. I’d read the good reviews – and the not-so-good ones – and dealt with how both make you feel. So while I absolutely love that Sundance will be the space where many of my fellow filmmakers debut their first features as an introduction to a specific film community, I feel fortunate to have a film community of my own that supported my stories early on and hope will continue into the future. I go to Park City feeling free, focused and grateful for the “before Sundance” part of my journey. I love the film we made and simply what to share it. Whatever happens after that, I can’t control and shouldn’t try.
So instead of getting caught up in the sales frenzy and the anxiety that naturally comes with being judged, I’ve been busying myself with the mammoth adventure that is the festival itself, and all its mythology. There is terrificly wacky lore and ritual around the fest, to which I’ve been nine times as a patron and former publicist. Where to stay. How to finagle tickets. Zeroing in on the best parties. Filmmakers who have superstitions about screening in certain venues at certain times. Hollywood execs who book their condos a year in advance. Fest attendees in ticket lines quizzing each other on what the other has seen, inviting actionable critiques. One must drink plenty of water to acclimate to the high altitude. One must always wear your jacket inside the Library Theatre, because it will be freezing until they turn the air off when the film begins.
All leading to the moment when you settle in your seat, and the lights go down and a new world begins. A storyteller spins her or his tale, and invites you to go along for the ride. People who love film, love that moment. The moment right before the first frame appears. In that moment, the film is the only thing that matters. Not the place you watch or the way you watch. When a film seeps into your bloodstream and grabs your heart and imagination, there’s little else greater for a movie buff. I hope that happens to a few folks watching my picture. It’s called “Middle of Nowhere” and it’s been selected for U.S. Dramatic Competition at Sundance 2012. Its about a brave woman whose dream has been deferred – and how she makes something beautiful out of her life despite her circumstances. We shot for 19 days in and around South Central Los Angeles and other parts of my fair city. I’m proud of it, both now and before the reddest, most delicious cherry called Sundance was put on top. I’m proud because, in the end, the film is the only thing that matters to filmmakers. The film is truly the thing we want. We want it to be deeply felt. We want it to be remembered. We want it to illuminate the corners. We want to be heard. That feels even better than a new car.
*You can also check this out on Wall Street Journal and share with others!!
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