My fourth year covering SXSW was one for the ladies.
“Stranger Things’” Sadie Sink delicately eases out of the iconic ensemble and audaciously plants two feet center stage. And the spotlight, with the crackle and hiss of a liquor store neon, seems to radiate from within her incandescent performance, giving the context of her portrayal an LED lackluster. O’Dessa, streaming on HULU Mar. 20, is the matriarch-led tale of sovereignty so many of us have a particular sense of longing for these days. The film’s pivotal scene, likewise, uses a severed finger to illuminate the perils of cultural and systemic “numbing” and elegantly employs the film’s score to emphasize how both silent and deafening excruciating pain can actually be.
Portland’s Trash Baby gives a steady voice and lowered tone to the guts it takes to survive in a
marginalized community. It opened my eyes to how innocuous grooming can appear. When the older girls in the trailer park paint your nails and dress you up, aren’t you mostly just having fun? The film’s graphic sexual assault made me beg to differ. And suddenly, my understanding of consent and autonomy became called into question. Because, at the end of the day, we were all once a 13-year-old girl who has been marginalized in some way. Esther Harrison’s flawless facial performances are gut wrenching. And the conflict between self preservation and humanity is palpable from curtain to credits. Hand to heart.
The documentary feature Sally, exploring the life and legacy of Dr. Sally Ride through the lens of her 27-year romance with Tam O’Shaughnessy, was like sitting down with an old friend to finally hear what “really” happened. The aforementioned 13-year-old in me thought it was pretty cool to see a woman in an astronaut outfit. The 48-year-old woman in the theater at the Hyatt was painfully humbled by the circumstances that kept her from being open about her sexuality. Intensely private, at first glance I wondered if she fashioned her mask in an attempt to control her legacy. But when Tam asks her how to explain, at Sally’s own funeral, who she is… the astronaut empowers her life partner to make that decision. The ability to simply be whoever it is we want to be. Wonder what planet we’ll all find that on?
Words like “home” and “paradise” get a thorough chewing in MOLA – A Tibetan Tale of Love and Loss. The story of Kunsang Wangmo a100-year-old exiled nun’s challenge in returning to the religious paradise of Tibet to die is a gorgeous endeavor. The stunning simplicity of the filmmaker’s visual choices allowed for Kunsang’s sweet spirit to playfully entertain us. And in eloquent juxtaposition to that, her daughter and caregiver’s unflappable vulnerability is gripping. And at times quite heartbreaking. Watching the film endowed me with a great appreciation for the idea that you can tell a story that honors someone impeccably without turning a blind eye to their flaws and failings. I left with a gentler conviction. I do hope that it hangs around for some time.
Marlee Matlin: Not Alone Any More was a stunning window into the world of disability. Shoshana Stern’s intentionality with when to (or not) employ sound was brilliant. Subtitles are tough for me. It’s a struggle to watch and read at the same time. But in this case, the director’s choices actually technically assisted me in empathizing with the protagonist. I found myself wishing that I knew ASL and attempting to read lips. Which was stunningly beautiful for my spirit, allowing me to experience a momentarily visceral piece of what I imagine it’s like to live in a world that defines lack of hearing as an impairment but does not define lack of ability to sign and read lips as such. And in that way, being unable to communicate is universal. So it’s not about sound at all. It’s about the intention to “hear” someone in their own language—be that ASL or Italian. And while we’re at it: body language, eyes, tone. Getting outside of yourself so that you can meet someone wherever they are.
“Mix Tape,” a tale of teens in Sheffield who seem to have—as adults—always wondered if their connection was deeper than tracks compiled on blank cassette tapes was something I’d happily drop anything and everything to binge. Teresa Palmer (A Discovery of Witches, The Fall Guy) and Jim Sturgess (Cloud Atlas, Across the Universe) are a slam dunk even though, two episodes in, they’ve yet to share the same screen. Even the mister wanted more, and I can typically only get him to watch a single episode of any show.
Bulldozer, an Andrew Leeds (“The Morning Show,” “Veep”) directed entry to the Independent TV Pilot Program, is hysterical. Mary Steenburgen as a Tetris-obsessed mother was true genius. In a promo piece played during previews, Seth Rogan pointed out that the festival has become a frontrunner in debuting comedies. And this entry is certainly proof in the pudding.
I’ll probably have to surrender my “local” T-shirt when I admit this, but I assumed Five Eight was a photography term when I started following Sean Dunn on Instagram. I have an art addiction, and his images really hit the spot. But, eventually, I got the memo. Then Chicken Ranch Records via Weirdo – The Story of Five Eight got me entirely straightened out last Thursday. It almost felt like I’d been given exclusive all-access to a “no girls allowed” institution. So let me tell you, there’s an awful lot of story in their story. And I’ll stand all day long to applaud the telling of it. Athens’ locals, specifically men and more specifically musicians, get a good bit of heat for their youthful exuberance and hesitation to… launch, we’ll say. But each of these guys’ commitment not only to survive their story but to tell it in painstaking detail was nothing short of heroic. To say that I “get it” would be trite. Bravo!
The summit of this year’s South By was meeting up with Gabriella Wilson (H.E.R.) on the red carpet for The Makings of Curtis Mayfield. I don’t typically get starstruck—was cool as a cucumber when I ran into Susan Sarandon last year and made fast friends of “Stranger Things’” Natalia Dyer backstage at the Georgia Theatre. But there truly is JUST something about H.E.R. So when she appeared in front of me, I was shaking like a leaf. I’ve always been energetically sensitive, but typically I’m picking up fear, anxiety, loathing, etc. This was power. I have never in all my life experienced another human with such a potent positive force of energy. It felt like what I imagine happens just before a champagne cork is liberated. And I’m proud to report that this fangirl even got both of her alotted questions out:
Ashley Smith: With so many awards, accolades, momentum and (I imagine) options… what specifically brought you to this project? Has it been a desire for some time? Or something that found you? I’d love to know more about that context.
AS: Is there musical theater in the near future for you? Specifically, we’d love the idea of you collaborating with Donald Glover on stage to pursue the EGOT together.
H.E.R.: Oh man, you know, if the opportunity comes, I probably won’t say no because things that scare me usually excite me so I would probably definitely, you know, take the opportunity if it came but… uh… (enthusiastically) I don’t know. We’ll see, we’ll see. You never know. I have a deep respect for people in musical theater because it’s a whole other discipline. That is a whole other life and a whole other world. But you know, even if it’s just making music in the theater world—we’ll see!
She nailed it. The film was insightful, funny, funky and endearing. At one point in the documentary, Mary J. Blige was describing “the darkness” of those days and added “it wasn’t yellow or gold yet.” Making it all the more poignant for a 27-year old Emmy, Grammy and Academy Award winner to be standing in front of us in a yellow snakeskin suit.
Speaking of stepping the game up—activations were on point this year. Tico Canato was adding graffiti to anyone who stood still at Sao Paulo House. The Museum of the Future was dropping Dubai Chocolate via the adorably teensiest tote bags I’ve ever seen, and a tailor was embroidering bandanas at the Paste party, where you could also choose to indulge in a complimentary flash tattoo. For all you know, there’s a ménage of rabbits getting randy somewhere on my skin. But the best was indeed reserved for last. At the Athens in Austin Party at The Continental Club I got to cop a squat with a cowgirl in Gold Lame that caught my eye at dinner: @SheReturnsFromWar. Thank me later.
Explore the full list of participating films from this year’s SXSW here.
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