Tag Archives: Wing-It Productions

Short reviews of short films at STIFF

STIFF, Seattle True Independent Film Festival, opens tonight and runs through next Saturday with a bunch great films, both short and feature length and as many zombie fuckfests as they can program. It’s the last year that STIFF is STIFF as we’ve come to know it as next year it rebrands as “Seattle Transmedia International Film Festival.”

I watched a handful of short films, where I only knew the title, to get a sample of what kinds of films one can expect at STIFF. You can find more info and get tickets on the festival’s website, of course.

Absent, dir: Malcolm Badewitz (4 minutes, Saturday, May 3 at 6pm, Grand Illusion Cinema)

Powerful, silent film that deals with the two families involved in a police shooting when a daughter wants to confront the police officer who shot her father. It’s a moving narrative that is made all the more poignant when there’s no sound, forcing you to react to it on your own terms.

Deadbook, dir: Richard Scobie (15 minutes, Thursday, May 8 at 10pm, LUCID Lounge)

Deadbook is a social network that lets people stay in touch with their loved ones for all of eternity. I’m not sure if it’s meant to be a parody of The Social Network, but it is a clever concept, and is still better than getting “poked” by your friends from the grave.

A Dose for Dominic, dir: Ruth Gregory, (7 minutes, Saturday, May 10 at 4pm, Grand Illusion Cinema)

Raising a five-year old child with severe autism and violent outbursts, two parents turn to medical cannabis as a means of treating their son’s condition. It’s an interesting movie that handles the subject deftly, and includes interviews with the doctors on how they developed a treatment that would work their son and how it worked out for them (spoiler: pretty good!).

Drive-Thru, dir: Georgina Higgins, (4 minutes, Wednesday, May 7 at 10pm, LUCID Lounge)

A claustrophobic comedy where two friends from a London suburb re-connect with a long-lost friend for a night in the Big City. It leads them to being chased when that friend turns out to be trouble. Their big night out takes a funny turn when they get hungry.

F’ing with Burlesque: PCP, dir. Tony James (20 minutes, Friday, May 9 at 8pm, Grand Illusion Cinema)

Popular local cult production features Gaydolf Hitler and his Mirror trapped in Gay Hell and they want to get out, so they decide to tempt Beelzebub with pot laced with PCP. It works out about as well as that sounds. The movie feels like it’s trying to recreate (or be an addition to) using hallucinogens. Loved the campiness, though.

I Am Not a Weird Person, dir: Molly McGlinn (5 minutes, Monday, May 5 at 7:30pm, LUCID Lounge)

A sort of twee short with a protagonist who needs to leave the house eventually because she’s out of toothpaste but doesn’t want to because she experienced a traumatic experience outside (someone told her to get out of his way, impolitely).

Meet My Rapist, dir: Jessie Beth Kahnweiler (7 minutes, Friday, May 9 at 8pm, Grand Illusion Cinema)

Dark, low budget comedy about Jessie who has a chance encounter at a farmer’s market with the man who raped her and shows how he’s shaped much of her life since then, and how it affects how people perceive her.

Sixnineteen: A Short Documentary, dir: Brian Nunes (27 minutes, Tuesday, May 6 at 6pm, Wing-It Productions)

This short doc would make an excellent companion to Razing the Bar, a documentary playing at SIFF about the demolished rock club the Funhouse. 619 Western Ave. was the home for artists for about thirty years before having to be tore down to make room for Seattle’s now-troubled tunnel project. It was inexpensive for artists to rent space there, and there hasn’t been anything to replace it. It was a dilapidated building to be sure, but it raises – and answers – some important questions that people anyone concerned with arts in Seattle need to grapple with.

Throwing Punches, dir: Rosalie Miller (13 minutes, Wednesday, may 7 at 8pm, LUCID Lounge)

A short documentary on martial arts instructor-turned-stuntwoman Leanne Hindle. It nicely summarizes the determination that propelled her career, and it’s a portrait of Hollywood (exported to Vancouver, where Hindle is from) that we only get to see on the rarest of occasions.

In “Hidden Pictures,” a Mental Health Doc Confronts Global Stigma

Sonal is in a private garden, tugging at her necklace; a weariness in her eyes, she tells us, “I sometimes think, Is there a monster in me?” She’s a young woman with thick black hair and a kind face softened by big brown eyes. She lives in New Delhi with her mom, who worries that her daughter won’t find a husband. Sonal leaves home only when her mom takes her — over two hours each way — to see her psychiatrist: Sonal has schizophrenia.

In Hidden Pictures, physician and Seattle filmmaker Delaney Ruston takes us around the world and introduces us to individuals like Sonal who live with mental illness. The film screened at STIFF in early May, and was voted “most moving documentary” by the festival’s judges. Ruston says it will air on PBS stations soon. (Her documentary, Unlisted: A Story of Schizophrenia, which recounted her experience of her father and his schizophrenia, also aired on PBS.)

Delaney Ruston

Through her lens we travel to five countries: India, South Africa, China, France, and the United States. We see glimpses of what life is like with a mental disorder, and how mental illness is viewed and treated in different parts of the world. The film is a patchwork of people with varying illnesses in assorted cultures, and as the personal stories unfold, we see that stigma permeates all borders. In this pioneering documentary, Hidden Pictures exposes us to an intimate view of mental illness on a global level.

In South Africa we meet Buyisva who has been diagnosed with depression and bipolar disorder. Like Sonal, she isolates herself from her community. “Maybe they will laugh,” she says. On the other hand, in Beijing, Tang Lei (“Jeff”) has been institutionalized for eight years with a diagnosis of schizophrenia, though he doesn’t appear to have a mental disorder.

Comparatively, France has one of the best health care systems in the world. All mental health care costs are covered, including therapy sessions for family members, but despite tremendous federal support, societal stigma remains. To treat his depression and anxiety, Steve spends six months at an inpatient hospital on the government’s dime, but after his recovery, he feels he has to hide his mental illness to find work. Steve’s mom doesn’t know what to tell people about her son so she avoids social events. The barnacle of shame that clings to mental illness affects more than the afflicted.

Anecdotally at least, it’s apparent that stigma against mental illness runs rampant. Regardless of culture, the shame associated with mental disorders exists in all demographics. Ruston “found it nearly impossible to find someone affected by mental illness — even leaders in mental health activist groups” she told Global Pulse, who was “willing to appear on-camera.” Stigma, Ruston concludes in her film, is found in “poor countries, rich countries, and countries known for strong family ties.”

Over 450 million people across the globe have a mental illness, but this number only represents incidences that have been reported, notes the World Health Organization. Almost half of those reported to have a mental disorder live in a country where there is one psychiatrist or less to serve 200,000 people. That’s like eight psychiatrists serving the 1.6 million people living in Manhattan, explains Global Pulse’s Emily Judem: “Worldwide spending on mental health is less than US$2 per person, per year. In low-income countries, that number drops to less than 25 cents per person, per year.”

In fact, claims mental health advocate Vikram Patel, “the treatment gap between developing and developed countries is 90%, and 50% of people in Europe don’t get care.”

If you see Hidden Pictures, it will be hard to ignore the role that stigma plays in the dire state of global mental health care. The degree of support that can be provided hinges on how high the stigma barrier climbs. Ruston aims to arm viewers with the knowledge and awareness needed to continue to break down the stigma barrier. The shame and misunderstanding surrounding mental illness must be dispelled, she argues, for effective progress to be made worldwide.

Bumbershoot 2012: Beyond the Music

While Seattleites tend to think of Bumbershoot as a great music festival, about half the events on the schedule are non-musical in nature, including comedy, symposia, theatre, film, visual arts, and items less easy to classify. This year, the visual arts were as good a reason as any to get to Bumbershoot, while the theatre provided well-timed respite from standing in the sun.

Highlights of the visual art included the exhibition of atmospheric urban landscapes by the late Christopher Martin Hoff. Vast wastelands of highway, dereliction, and construction alternately assume hard clarity and hazy intangibility on his canvas. Precise lines of color leap out of the beige in pieces such as the Floating Worlds series, while features fade into a blurry taupe in others such as the Infrastructure paintings. Altogether they feel cold, empty, and foreboding. A series on Ground Zero construction captures the sacred attention in the context of emotionless reconstruction.

In the memorial project of this exhibit, a few unfinished pieces stood out, including depictions of the demolition of the Viaduct and the Elwha Dam. These gave a sense of Hoff’s body of work as a sound suddenly cut off–even while the music from the Tune-in Stage filtered in through the open garage doors. With so many pieces focused on memorial, the context of Hoff’s sudden death took prominence in the hushed conversations of viewers. The one downside to the exhibit was that too much was crammed into the space, making some pieces and their explanatory notes impossible to view without endangering other pieces.

An adjacent exhibit focused on studio glass. Here two of the most striking displays were by Edison Osorio Zapata. These featured blown glass objects etched and used as printing surfaces, displayed next to sheets of heavy paper covered in their prints. “Gringo Graffiti” has a conventional-looking roller with a glass cylinder, metal handle, and an all-over print, like wallpaper, while “Lagrimas de Marfil” features a teardrop-shaped roller. This “ivory tear” is covered in etchings which print onto its accompanying paper in a pattern that appears random and organic, sometimes narrow, other times wide, always meandering.

“Lagrimos de Marfil” by Edison Osorio Zapata, part of the This Is Glass exhibit at Bumbershoot; photo by Stefan D-W

The accompanying description noted the artist’ss interest in investigating the fractured and prismatic nature of communication across cultures, especially in the context of the immigrant experience. The medium seems a natural fit for such investigations, and Zapata heightens this quality by the pursuit of traditionally simple, straight-forward forms such as printing. Displaying both object and print highlights the distance source and expression.

The crowd favorite of the visual arts–outside of Flatstock, the rock music poster exhibition on the main floor of the Armory–was an exhibit linked to the Next Fifty celebrations in which artists tied their work to the same spirit of skyward futurism as the 1962 World’s Fair. Along with some interactive light and sound installations there were a couple of witty pieces that inspired the wonder created by that event. Most prominent among these were the silver animal automata of Cathy McCarthy, which unceasingly performed their little actions under plexiglass domes on cardboard mushroom pedestals that felt perfectly Jetsons.

As for theatre, the overall impression is that Bumbershoot did a fine job connecting events to audience. For the several young families at Seattle Center in the early afternoon of Saturday ACT’s youth theatre presentation of an abridged version of the theatre’s upcoming Ramayana (October 12-November 11) was a good fit. The instructors of this group have done an excellent job teaching mask technique and the basics of traditional dance. One hopes they’ll give more attention to the puppetry side of the production before they get to their official presentation, as its inclusion felt perfunctory in this performance. Nonetheless, this is clearly an excellent opportunity for these students and their families.

Wing-It Productions’ Election Show offered another preview of a soon-to-open run (September 6-November 2). A packed house watched comics enact a long-form improvisation that clothed the form in the tropes of the election season. Audience participation was managed with extraordinary care and a bit of humor. The cast also took pains to create a mostly de-politicized environment of Whigs versus the Bull Moose Party. The variations of theme and structure often came off as no more than repetitious, and there was nothing revelatory about this piece. People who like improv will enjoy this show; those who do not will find no reason to change their opinions.

As the crowd turned decidedly more adult and The Heavy brought a sustainable groove to Saturday’s anemic music offerings, the Washington Ensemble Theatre staged a brief revival of their summer offering, Bed Snake, to a packed house with some diversity of age and race.

Whether that diversity remained after the mid-show exodus–Hannah Victoria Franklin, as Kry$tal, led the actors in their triumphant response to this–one cannot say. A hip-hop Faust with a romantic twist, Bed Snake has greater ambitions than achievements, and these achievements were all the more muted, given the Center House Theatre’s abysmal sight lines. Still, the dancers did great work with a limited vocabulary, the acting was committed, and the projections were excellent (for those who could see them).

While it makes sense to stage this pop music-immersed show at Bumbershoot, the production suffers in comparison. The original rhymes in the piece are to hip-hop as Frank Wildhorne is to pop-rock: one can see that there’s a relationship, but in both form and, especially, quality there is a vast difference. Still, one hopes there will be more in this vein that crosses boundaries of form—more new theatre that takes its cue from the culture and vibe of Bumbershoot.