Mammoth Lakes Film Festival – Powerfully OnLine for 2020

Mammoth Lakes Film Festival Virtually Vibrant
MLFF founder Shira Dubrovner on Zoom
Paul Sbrizzi, MLFF Program Director

Mammoth Lakes Film Festival was back in force for 2020, taking on the “mammoth” job of transferring the entire festival – full length features and docs, shorts, cocktail power hours, a party, awards ceremony, and Q and A’s with filmmakers – from real life to virtual life.

It’s unsurprising in a way that MLFF took on this transition with style; the festival has always been uniquely cutting edge, perhaps more so than any other film festival I’ve had the pleasure of covering.

Films are dynamic, exciting, maybe even “out there” and always innovative. If any festival deserved the reputation for being “different,” for being inclusive, global, unafraid, it would be Mammoth Lakes.

Entering its 6th year in these pandemic times was not easy, and yet the festival covered a vast amount of ground, adding a showing for films, allowing online pass holders to access films for a five-day period past the premiere, and above all else, not hesitating to show films that are entirely unique and push the envelope. The times may be difficult, but that doesn’t mean films have to be facile and easy.

Under the sure-handed guidance of Festival director Shira Dubrovner, who also serves as the artistic director of the Mammoth Lakes Repertory Theatre, and innovative programming director, LA-based filmmaker and film programmer Paul Sbrizzi, Dubrovner started the film festival in 2015. While she has faced challenges before, they were surely nothing like those experienced this year in getting the festival up and running and interactive – online.

According to Dubrovner, “Thanks to the virtues of technology that can host a communal film going experience, we were excited to bring these works into people’s homes and promote the exchange of ideas and storytelling these films evoke.”

Sbrizzi described the line up as “wonderfully eclectic and thought-provoking films,” and that was an accurate assessment.

While I watched the programming live in most cases, viewing only a few after the fact and missing only two offerings, we were unable to offer our usual day by day coverage, due to, well, an uneven pandemic work-load colliding with festival timing. In “normal” years the festival runs over Memorial Weekend; this year scheduling was in September, in the initial hope it could safely run live.

In any event, life happened, and although the films and programming were thoroughly viewed and appreciated, daily coverage of each day’s programming did not take place. So in lieu of that, we are offering the same type of coverage, consolidated into two separate articles and an upcoming filmmaker interview for the new year.

Let’s dive into the excitement of the first three days of the five-day festival.

Opening night, the selection shown this year was Residue, in its West Coast Premiere. Directed by Merawi Gerima, the film was recently acquired by Ava DuVernay’s ARRAY and will be released on Netflix. But you could’ve seen it first here. It’s a complex story inside a deceptively simple package: Jay, a young African American filmmaker, returns home to Washington D.C. with his girlfriend Blue after years away to write a script about his childhood. But he discovers his neighborhood is in the process of a transforming gentrification, his childhood friends mostly scattered and gone. But the true core of the film is its confrontation of violence: the violence perpetuated on the soul by unaccepted change, unacknowledged loss. A relentless invasion is still that, even if it is couched in the guise of “betterment” for a community. When all that remains is the residue of a life, life itself can turn in an instant into moments of rage and confusion, violence and fear. Change, in short, isn’t always a wonderful thing or an exemplification of progress.

Welcome Happy Hour; Flula Borg – second from the end, top row

Prior to the film, a filmmaker welcome happy hour ran on Zoom, hosted by the always funny and engaging Flula Borg. Filmmakers introduced themselves, attendees, while primarily remaining muted, nonetheless got to say hello and hear the intent and passion of the filmmakers along with Borg’s wit.

Thursday, as always, marked the first full day of festival programming, with Shorts Block 1, the locally oriented Mojave to Mammoth block of programming, and perhaps my favorite film of the entire festival, this year, Marlene. I missed seeing one film, documentary The Reason I Jump.

Starting backwards, Marlene, from German director Andrea Resch, is a devastating, fascinating, and richly compelling study in suspense, psychological drama, and eventually, horror. The slow build is wonderful in this story of a restoration specialist who moves to Berlin to begin a new life with new friends due to personal issues. With everything so new, she finds it difficult to set boundaries with an upstairs neighbor, Flo, who is pushy at best, and deeply threatening at worst. To call the film masterful is to underestimate it: it’s one of the best “scary movies” and the smartest that I’ve seen in any year. Resch discussed the film in an outstanding – despite a time difference in Germany that made it the wee-hours for the director and his star – q & a after the screening. In the lead, Cordula Zielonka had a tough emotional and physical role, and on her fell the burden of making us care as much as the film made us scared of Flo, played by the also terrific Thomas Clemmens.

The Mojave to Mammoth block provided two fascinating shorts and one “featurette.” Nature’s serenity and man’s poetic attempts to preserve it through art were the subject of the beautiful loose documentary of Passing Through, in which a printmaking-artist discuses living an intentional life filled with the wonders of nature.  Ravage, a briefer short, was a fictional tale of revenge, with a squirm-worthy confession in a church and the ultimate trap it leads to in a well-directed, high-concept piece.

The longest segment was the hour-plus documentary of Accidental Climber, a true story of survival and a revelation about what a life-changing experience can really mean. It charts the course of Jim Geiger, a retired forest ranger and amateur mountaineer from Sacramento, who at 68 years old, attempts to become the oldest American and first great grandfather to summit Mt. Everest. And he may have made it, too, were it not for an avalanche that changed his life and his view of living it. The story was as exciting as a scripted narrative, and the outcome unexpected.

And circling back to the start of the day, Shorts Block 1 proved packed with innovative and surprising films. 5 films encompassed an array of styles and stories, and were followed by a Q and A. It began with a laugh in Cabin Stories 1, part of a series of short-shorts involving friends at a weekend cabin. In this “episode” friends expressed amusing over-the-top reactions to the simple pleasures of their temporary abode.

At a 25-minute runtime, Kiko’s Saints was a truly intense and involving story, and one tailor-made to stretch to feature length. Possibly my favorite short of the festival, the Japanese/French film, directed by the entirely assured, quite wonderful Maniel Marmier was a redemption story rich with metaphor.

Kiko, a Japanese illustrator on assignment in France, finds wild inspiration from spying on a gay couple on the beach next to the chapel where she’s working. Drawing them secretly leads her to an encounter with the duo, one that changes her life. It’s magical and transformative for Kiko and the viewer. A breath of pure oxygen.

A Woman offered the fascinating story of a young wife and mother in changing Ajerbijan, giving us a country and a relatable protagonist struggling to address and fully embrace both past and future.

Follow Me was a wonderfully enigmatic portrayal of an alluring woman and a young man with life or death responsibilities. The Israeli film from director Elinor Nechemya follows youth hotline volunteer Omer to a party in search of his seeming “last chance” with the girl he desires. The essential and trivial of life both hang in the balance in a suspenseful and evocative night.

Equally riveting was the story of Tryphon and Pharailde from French director and screenwriting pair Casimir and Edgar VERSTRAETE. Haunting and enigmatic.

On Friday, MLFF served up even more variety, with the brilliant documentary, The Wind, two fascinating shorts block, a riveting documentary, Feather and Pine, and a surreal and poetic thriller in Desire Path. Plus Q &As of course. There was also a wine tasting, but I had to content myself with an iced coffee.

Feather and Pine took on the enigmatic subject of the logging industry – enigmatic because the recession and the industry’s passing left residents in a small town at loose ends. Heartbreaking in an unusual sense, it evokes a quintessential longing for what might best be described as “an American Way of Life.”

Equally evocative, the Polish doc, The Wind is thriller and an immersion into place; the annual Halny Wind can be vicious; man against nature is vividly depicted in an achingly memorable film.

The narrative feature Desire Path is a vampire story about possession and desire, with little dialog and resonant images, it is more a canvas for feelings and fears than it is conventional storytelling, although it works in that way as well. According to director Marjorie Conrad, her inspiration for the film was “Slow Cinema.” It was her second feature, her first having screened at Slamdance, Chemical Cut. Casting via Instagram, the biggest challenges to creating the film she cites as “money, ice, and time.” She created her vision in 13 days; asked what’s ahead for the artistic filmmaker, she relates “Piracy. It’s the future and it’s future-proof. See Piracy Is the Future of Culture: Speculating about Media Preservation after Collapse by Abigail De Kosnik.” Okay, then.

Shorts Blocks Two and Three each had many gems.

In shorts blocks two, there was another amusing episode of Cabin Stories; a fight following a wedding over an engagement between another couple grew extreme in the comedic They Won’t Last; and an elevator ride became a Cage Match in a hand-drawn animated work. Roseline, Like in the Movies was a graceful, black and white French language film about the lines crossed between art and life; while “On Task” explored the dedication of a young teacher.

The longest film of the set was my favorite, All That You Love Will be Carried Away was based on a Steven King story and set in a frigid Nebraska. A lovely and evocative character study, it was also a thriller as an obsession with graffiti led to chance encounters and a life saved. Director and screenwriter Thad Lee created a haunting piece.

Things skewed darker in Shorts Block Three. In the deft and lightly humorous Melancholy Hunters, a man and his ten-year-old cousin look to hunt down and literally vanquish melancholy. The brief and brilliantly animated Urges took on just that; David Henry Nobody Jr. drew viewers into the world of a zany and opinionated artist; the Spanish-language Asalto Chido took on the dramatic lengths to which a pair of friends would go to raise money for a film. Last Day was a moving and somewhat enigmatic film about a Chinese sex worker receiving news that she absorbed rather than letting it devastate her. In Cool for Five Seconds, making amends as part of a 12-step recovery program is not as easy as it looks for one woman around the holidays. And, in a burst of comic relief, two Lesbian moms worry about their daughter dating in the Rain Poncho.

Saturday and Sunday slates coming soon. Stating the obvious: Mammoth Lakes Film Festival took it to the limit – and not for the last time.

  • Genie Davis; photos provided by MLFF, Zoom shots Genie Davis

Valerie Wilcox: In a Year Where Nothing Seemed Possible – “A Bridge to Possibilities II”

Mixed media artist Valerie Wilcox works with common, salvaged materials creating what she calls “connections between our everyday lives and ideas about how we construct our physical and psychological space. I like to push the surreal with ambiguous shapes that hover between a two-dimensional plane and a three-dimensional structure.”

Her dimensional works play with space and perception, using the effects of light and shadow. She turns the objects with which she shapes her work into canvasses of sorts, emphasizing the materials as well as the painted and textured surfaces she creates.

“I form these hybrid dimensional constructions/paintings using discards, found elements and humble materials. Ideals of perfection versus inherent human fallibility are fundamental in my work. I embrace the mistakes,” she says.

Following the ideology of Wabi Sabi and the acceptance and beauty of transience and imperfection, she rejoices in the anomalies arising from the process of construction, she relates, saying they add elegance to the final work.

Wilcox says she is always experimenting with different materials throughout Constructs, her continuing body of work, enjoying the freedom to explore a wide variety of materials. “I started working with found discards and humble materials when I found myself with a lot of remnants leftover from my design work and previous projects. I was looking for the opportunity and resources to develop more sculptural 3D compositions while still working as a painter.” She adds “This way of working continually opens up new possibilities…Starting with the materials becomes e a meditation on form and shape. It’s like working with puzzle pieces that don’t fit together, but at some point, they make themselves awkwardly happy collaborators.”

Wilcox used these techniques in creating a vast commissioned piece, “A Bridge to Possibilities II.”

Creating the work, she employed her usual process, with one large difference involved: she had to start from scratch with the pieces she used to create it, as she had no scrap to work with and she needed to do specific design sketches for approvals, and pieces cut to fit the layout.

“This is not how I normally work,” Wilcox attests. “I’m very process oriented and usually start from the inspiration that the materials provide me, not from a pre-ordained design.”

The biggest challenge however was creating an extremely large work in her studio space. “The sculpture was made with 26 individual pieces combined to make the finished size of about 6 ft x 17 ft. I made it in 4 sections so it could be easier to transport and install.”

Because her studio isn’t large enough to work on all the pieces together, she purchased three 6 ft. tables and set them up in her home’s tandem garage. Using this system, she could paint the work all together when laid out flat.

According to the artist, “It was a new challenge for me to work this large, however, because of the way I work in general, which is to work on the separate pieces first and then combine them together, I was able to work like a production line and prepare the individual pieces separately in my studio and in the garage. In order to see how the piece was working and provide progress photos to the client, I had to lay it out in our driveway and shoot it from our rooftop to get it all in one photo.” Next time, perhaps, a drone.

While many of the techniques she used to create the work remained consistent with her work on other pieces, in this case she used a stronger but just as lightweight material called Gator Board to make the work easier to install.

“I also worked with a fabricator to create a wood cleat system on the back for hanging. They did the installation using a matching cleat system on the wall. This was hung in 4 sections that fit into each other like puzzle pieces,” she says.

The piece was commissioned through an art consultancy formed hired by a New York-based designed firm that renovated the hotel. The team liked Wilcox’ original “A Bridge to Possibilities,” and sough a larger iteration of it that used colors fitting well with their interior design.

The piece will have to wait for the pandemic to – finally – end to find its audience. It was commissioned by the Manchester Grand Hyatt San Diego, located in the downtown San Diego harbor area, and it’s installed in the main bar. The bar is of course closed until restrictions are lifted.

That makes Wilcox’ large and lovely artwork another gem to look forward to experiencing in the coming new year. It will be a “Bridge to Possibilities II” indeed, for most of us.

  • Genie Davis; photos, Genie Davis and courtesy of the artist

Shockboxx Rocks

Shockboxx Gallery, Minimalism exhibition; featured image “Freeway” is by Alison Corteen.

Pandemic or no pandemic, the show must go on. The art show that is. Shockboxx has been providing exciting new shows for by-appointment viewing in the gallery’s airy space, as well as offering virtual opening and closing events and artists’ talks since the pandemic first began. If establishing a community is more important to the art world than ever before, then this Hermosa Beach gallery is upholding that important mandate big time.

As we face a new wave of both viruses and restrictions, we would do well to visit gallerist Mike Collins’ “shockingly” good space in the South Bay whether virtually or with a visit IRL.

I am remiss in my coverage: I have seen two virtual and two live exhibitions here, and they have all been fantastic. Living in the Beach Cities myself, where there is a dearth of excellent art spaces (Torrance Art Museum aside), Shockboxx is all the more vital a space.

Let’s take a look around:

First up for me online this summer was a solo show by Brazillian-born, Hermosa Beach-local artist Drica Lobo, whose swooping, lush, brilliantly vibrant paintings were placed in a custom setting as awash with the sea and moon and female energy as you can get. The lovely, peaceful look of the exhibition was matched by a powerful sense of color and urgent motion.

It would be impossible to take in this truly gorgeous solo show without feeling as if you were swept up by the sea, enveloped by the aura of mermaids, magic, and moonlight — but in an entirely fresh and original way. Iconic local images were approached in gracious and brand new way, offering a new way of seeing familiar landscapes that rendered them as an entirely different world.

Transcendent use of color and light created a pattern that mesmerizes the viewer; Lobo’s lovely use of the gallery space made a visit a respite for pandemic-wearing souls and eyes.

Next up for me was the semi-response to Lobo’s astute, pastel-driven, meditative aura: the rowdy, darker, prankster-laden visuals of the all-male group show Swordfight. Described more as a distaff companion to the all-female artists of the gallery’s earlier Powerhouse show, it nonetheless was a wonderful counterpoint to Lobo’s solo as well.

Jack George

Here there was a rich counter-play of images that expressed a wonderful energy, one that was also tinged with angst, anger, fun, and an edge of frustration infused with hope.

Online – the opening included performance art

Terrific curation and a great conversation between artworks fueled a show both fast and furious – for an adrenaline boost to the eye and the spirit that was not without its darker, introspective moments.

Scott Meskill has art in and curated the splendid Swordfight
Mike Collins
“Le tournoi des meurtres,” Mike Collins
Glitter Shark – Paul Roustan
Scott Meskill
Preston Smith

Following the passionate Swordfight came the group open show, 2021? – an overflowing feast of art, with a wide range of mediums, perceptions, and textures.

Tanya Britkina, “Eve and Her Cat”
Karrie Ross
Justin Prough
Chloe Allred

As inclusive as it was cutting edge, there were not only a broad selection of tastes and palettes, but a sense of connection and intimacy between the works and viewers. Some group shows seem haphazardly curated, but not this one: works were positioned to truly interact – from Aimee Mandala’s giant boot to MUKA’s fabulous teddy bear.

Routine Traffic Stop by Jonathan Crowart

Glancing from side to side or traversing back to front in the gallery space, it had an immersive, museum-quality aesthetic that actually took viewers on a journey from the more realism driven to the more fanciful and back again – as if the exhibit itself represented time spent in our own heads, planning for the future, regretting the past, working through the ongoing roadblocks of the present. In short, the ultimate group show for pandemic times.

Monica Marks

Like a palette cleanser if you will, the current Shockboxx exhibition, Minimalism, is just that – subtle and suspended, allowing the windows and doors of the mind to open and travel through these powerfully limited landscapes.

Mark Eisendrath
Joy Ray
Young Shin
Frederika Roeder – “Whiteout – Whiteout”

Mimialism will close physically this coming weekend, but you can continue to view works online.

But here’s the thing: whatever is next on the walls at Shockboxx, go get electrified by it – whether you’re Zooming in or stopping by after a brisk walk on the beach, you can bet that this gallery will get you plugged in.

The gallery is located at 636 Cypress Ave. in Hermosa Beach; visit online at Shockboxprojects.com

Genie Davis; photos: Genie Davis, and courtesy of Shockboxx/exhibiting artists. Note: Featured image is by Alison Corteen

Light and Space Infuse the Photographic Art of Alice Esposito

Portrait of the artist by Ashleigh Castro

Creating a portrait of people is what inspires photographic artist and filmmaker Alice Esposito but surrounding her subjects with light and space is what informs her work. Calling her subjects her “community,” and explaining her work as a response to and documentation of her life, Esposito’s still images appear visually entwined with her film work.

“I grew up watching, Italian Neorealism, Nouvelle Vague and Film Noir; they all influence my work greatly in  photography and film,” she says. “In my movies I like more of an experimental approach, exploring existential themes. I’m interested in the  change in the psyche and approach of everyday life and  its conditions, from social issues, oppression, injustice,  especially the use of irony as a tool to  explore these themes.”

Both bodies of work are poetic and lyrical and evoke a sense of connection with the viewer. “I rarely photograph people without having a conversation with them, I want to understand the person I’m about to photograph, their mannerisms, their posture, what makes them laugh, cry, and think. I love to see the place where they live, to know what they’re passionate about, what kind of energy surrounds them.”

Viewing one’s home as a personal “temple,” she frequently uses this setting in her work, saying this is where her subjects are most comfortable in expressing themselves, and revealing an intimate sense of their spirits.

“When you understand the soul, the essence of a person, it becomes easy to capture their attitude and presence with the camera,” Esposito explains. “Having and using a camera should be seen as an honor, you are put in an extremely privileged position. It’s like having a friend that will never abandon you, and it has a special gift to see things that otherwise you could not.”  She adds “It’s basically like having a superpower, when the shutter goes down inside the camera, you don’t actually see what’s going on, everything can happen in 1/1000 of a second.”

She terms the best photographs “happy accidents…you can set up at the scene perfectly and try to control all  the elements of it, but you need to be ready for things to  go wrong and play with it, you need to have a sense of  contingency, you need to be willing to transform your expectations and reshape your initial idea.” 

That sense of spontaneity, her love of light, and her engagement with her subjects is vividly present in her work, as is her love of storytelling. “I want the full life experience of the person in front of me. Sometimes,” she admits, “I become obsessed with this method, before taking a portrait of a person it takes me days, weeks, to find the perfect moment, or sometimes, it’s after 5 minutes. It depends when I see what I want to capture, then I’m ready to get behind the camera.” 

From a personal standpoint, Esposito admits “I think camera offers me some kind of protection, but it also gives me courage. I don’t only appreciate and love the camera as a tool for my work, but also as an instrument for me to come out of my shell without being too scared, I guess.”

As an admirer of Fellini and Antonioni, Goddard and Truffaut, Diane Arbus and Nan Goldin, both her films and photographs have a quality of dreamy imagination; they are tinged with both a touch of magic and the surreal.

“I want to create a unique and bizarre atmosphere, I love using both natural light and stark artificial lighting effects, to achieve a particular feeling. I often play with double exposure when using film…I want to navigate between the reality at the surface of life and bring a dreamy nostalgia [to it].”

As her process has become more methodical over time, she says today she’s most interested in expressing allusions and subtle meanings, creating a more analytical approach to her work – while still welcome the unpredictable moments, she asserts. Her work itself has been a spiritual evolution, she adds “Photography gave me a freedom to be who I am without being scared or worried.”

That openness of self-expression has not changed due to the pandemic, though certainly her subjects have. “I haven’t had many chances to see people, apart from a window of social distancing. This has been the chance for me to complete or reprise some unfinished work, and in my editing work, I’m spending a lot of time on the computer and I’m building a huge archive, conceptualizing ideas I could apply now to my work now or later, when I’ll be finally free to leave my studio.” 

Esposito recognizes that when she does so, it will be as if emerging into a changed world, altered in terms of many intimate relationships, as well as through pandemic restrictions and changes. Undoubtedly she’ll capture it all through her camera.

  • Genie Davis; photos from Alice Esposito