Telluride has never felt more changed, at least to me. This will be my 14th and probably last year covering the film festival. Where it used to be a retreat into a world of comfort and joy among friendly people and a welcoming atmosphere, it doesn’t feel that way to me now. There is a coldness here. There is competition between bloggers all fighting over a tiny piece of whatever riches this industry provides, not to mention status measuring contests — who got invited to what, who knows what publicist, who gets to hobnob with the famous at the Patron’s Brunch.
Gone is the innocent time when the film industry was thriving, before the bottom dropped out. Back then, Telluride was like escaping into paradise. Sooner or later, you knew you’d have to get back to reality. Now, it seems like another theater in an ongoing war. The climate of fear that has blanketed Hollywood might take some time to work its way through. If the worst thing people had to talk about these past few weeks was little old me then you know things are fairly dire. Everyone is afraid to say what they really think but they are quick to point fingers at others. Accuse lest ye be accused.
Until the ongoing hysteria dissipates, until people can see each other as people again, until everyone can relax and start making good movies again, I fear for the future of this industry. There is a rising tide of dissent and a growing counterculture that looks a lot like “barbarians at the gate.” Where all of this ends up, I do not know. But I do know that creative paralysis doesn’t make for exciting scripts. There are too many rules and not enough freedom, and everyone is measured on a scale of what is fair and what is verboten.
And so it begins anew — another four days of seeing films, attending tributes, writing reviews, and assessing what it may portend for the Oscar race. All that really means is a negotiation between bloggers who are paid by the studios and publicists pushing movies they hope will get gold statues by the end of it.
Every so often, there is a disruption in the pattern, like when the high-status film critics decided to slice and dice a film that deserves a lot better, as they did with Sam Mendes’ Empire of Light. Every so often, they seem to need a power flex as if to say, “The studios are not paying us, so we’ll destroy your Oscar hopeful if we want.” And they did.
We heard that A24 has landed distribution for Luca Guadagnino’s Queer. There were rumblings about the running time. But that seems to have been settled. Then we heard Netflix acquired Pablo Larrain’s Maria, starring Angelina Jolie.
Here is Jolie on whether she cares about Oscar buzz:
Angelina Jolie on how she feels about the Oscar buzz for her role as Maria Callas in “Maria” #Venezia81 pic.twitter.com/yGbicYqbl3
— ʙᴇʟʟᴀᴅᴏɴɴᴀ🩱🍉 (@canyou_sonicme) August 29, 2024
Early tweets are positive but the embargo won’t lift until later tonight.
Pablo Larrain hasn’t disappointed yet. He makes films about beautiful butterflies in a jar.
A still from Queer:
I realize this is all Venice news and nothing about Telluride but that’s because this festival has yet to start. With so many people here covering it, you’ll soon hear the avalanche of opinions. There are murmurings of a movie not on anyone’s radar. The official lineup will be announced later this morning.
Driving to Telluride from California meant seeing abandoned dogs at gas stations at The Res. I fed as many as I could, fretting over them. I asked people about them. No one seemed to care. They are not predators who can hunt down their food but scavengers. They’re not domesticated animals and are wary of anyone trying to snatch them, but they also know their food depends on the kindness of strangers.
I looked at my dogs all comfortable in the back of my car with fresh water and food and a safe place to sleep at night. I couldn’t help but think of these wild dogs in the harsh winters. What would become of them?
At a gas station, a woman was looking for a small dog that had run under her car. Once she picked him up I said, “he’s so cute.” She said, “You want him?” And I was confused for a minute. Did she really mean that? “I have too many dogs at home,” she said. “We picked him up on the road.”
“Well, okay,” I said, and she handed him to me. The look in his eyes was fear. “He has fleas,” she said.
“When did you pick him up,” I said.
“Oh, last winter,” she said.
The dog started shaking, and I said, “You’ve had him a long time. He’s bonded to you.” And she held out her arms and took the dog back.
It’s rough out there for everyone, for dogs, for kind people who take care of dogs. And when you think about that, and then you think about the petty dramas of people at the Telluride Film Festival, it puts things in the proper perspective.
