Austin Film Festival: The Aftermath

I've never been on cocaine, but I imagine it feels something like being at the Austin Film Festival. Constant stimulation, moments of anxiety followed by moments of ecstasy immediately followed by complete and utter exhaustion. It would be unbearable if it weren't so terrific.

In another way it's like speed dating (also something I only know about through movies and television). Everybody has their best look on, playing themselves up with business cards and nice shoes and very general statements about what exactly it is they do for a living. And, of course, there's alcohol.

I did get to meet John August, I did see James Franco although I don't think he saw me (his eyes were closed for the most part) and even though I did not spot Bill Murray, after the pixie dust settles (cocaine reference?) I must say that there are a number of reasons the festival was a great personal success. And a number of reasons that it was a soul-crushing disaffirmation of my very hopes and dreams.

Why the AFF is the best/worst thing in the world:

Best: The People
What other opportunity do you have to be around such a concentrated large group of similarly motivated minds than at a film festival? I mean, these are your people. These are the people you go see a movie with and then sit at a bar and discuss and argue and use excessive hand gestures to get your point across about said movie. These are the people who understand why it's taken you two years to write your screenplay because they have a screenplay they've been working on for five years with no end in sight. Your people.

Worst: The People
Who are these people? Every one  is a producer, director, screenwriter, creative coordinator or locations-based cinematography - what does that even mean? Throwing names around, like really obscure names that only uber screen savvy people could ever hope to know about. Basically, there's no easier place to pimp your non-existent made up pretend-time shit than at a film festival. Distinguishing your people from these other people can be tricky, so keep a sharp eye out.

Best: The Panels
Watching the X-Files is cool. Watching the director's cut with the commentary on is way cool. Sitting in a room with Chris Carter as he talks about the X-Files is five metaphysical levels above cool. There are things the panels can't do for you: make you a better writer, get you an agent, teach you super secret-y secrets about making words happen. They can awe you. They can inspire you to sit down at your computer and actually move your fingers across the keys, subsequently making words and making you a better screenwriter.

Winner of the FDJM best panelist of all time ever: Lindsay Doran

Worst: Dumb Questions During Panels
"Um, yeah, so I was wondering if you could comment on your use of symmetry throughout the second act, and in particular could you expound on the symbolism of breaking the fourth wall near the end of the turning point in the third act blah blah blah blah." Just stop. You know big words; good job. Keep your mouth shut.

Best: Being Part of Something Cool
You get a badge, you get a bag, you get free drinks and invites to parties and there are for really real screenwriter/director/producers/actors(?) just waiting to talk to you. And to hundreds of other people, but mostly to you. And you're a part of it, and it's super cool. I mean, it's at the Driskill! Am I right?

Worst: Something Cool Has Nothing to do With Sleep
Panels start at 9am, parties don't start until 11pm. The first day it was over I took three naps.

This was my first time at the AFF. It was overwhelming and frustrating and inspiring, but mostly I met some people that I think could be my people and just knowing that you're not alone in this whole thing is worth something. It's worth sleep deprivation and the puny feeling that comes when the guy behind you is talking about Bruce Feirstein like they're best friends and you have to use your phone to look him up because you don't know who Bruce Feirstein is.

These big names, they don't matter. Not now; not while you're trying to build a catalog of semi-respectable stuff you wouldn't be horrified for someone to take a look at. Write movies. Watch movies, read movies and all that, but most importantly write the freaking thing. Write. Write write write! Just write already.