RiverRun Film Festival Dispatch

By Jeff Reichert

The first time you attend a new film festival, you never know quite what to expect, especially when it’s one that’s run a little under the radar, like Winston-Salem’s RiverRun International Film Festival. Though it’s roughly the same age as Sarasota, I hadn’t heard much about it until I was invited down to participate on the documentary shorts jury and run a panel on DIY Filmmaking. Their invite left me with the obvious questions: would the lodgings be crud, the transportation scarce, the festival disorganized and the films on offer mediocre at best?

Luckily the answer to all of these questions was a resounding “no.” Much of their programming jibed with Sarasota’s–the inclusion of Troll Hunter, Potiche, Uncle Boonmee, A Screaming Man, and a surprise screening of Sundance prizewinner Another Earth suggests that distributors, at least, are hip to RiverRun’s charms. Great programming is a start, but the real measure of a good festival is how warmly the town embraces the film selection. No problems on that score: a late Thursday afternoon screening of Armadillo drew solid matinee attendance while a Saturday evening show of Jean Renoir’s great, overlooked French Cancan introduced by Peter Bogdanovich was standing-room only. Even the aforementioned Another Earth sneak, which was added mid-festival, drew a healthy crowd and the quite strong documentary shorts program (there were no real duds in the bunch, further suggesting a festival with its head on straight) practically sold out a lunchtime screening on Friday.

Even though its handful of venues are spread all over town, RiverRun never feels big, which isn’t just a function of its host city’s size. You still have the same Sarasot-ean pleasure of running across the staff (here Tom Hall and Holly Herrick were replaced by the equally welcoming Andrew Rodgers, Mary Dossinger, and Chris Holmes), your friends, and assorted familiar faces. Much of this smallness may be due to the festival’s secret weapon: Jerry in transportation. A big man with a slow drawl, Jerry is a proud retiree, aficionado of youth competition Odyssey of the Mind, oddball museums (his recommendations included the Spam Museum in Austin, Minnesota), and master of moving festival guests all over town. Unlike many fests who staff these crucial positions with plucky wannabe filmmakers who couldn’t organize their way out of a paper bag, Jerry run transpo as if it were military special ops.

Due to jury duties (our gang of four gave the prize to a nice short called Surpriseville) and other festival events I wasn’t able to see as many films as I would have liked during my time there. In four days there I only managed: Armadillo, the documentary shorts, Summer Hours (always good to catch up with an old friend), French Cancan, Crab Trap, the animated shorts, and Another Earth. Not a bad haul in the end, especially when when the festival kindly organizes a beautiful, outdoor family-style barbecue replete with pulled pork and small batch moonshine or an Eighties Prom and Karaoke party that was kitschy and fun. On the tail end of a relaxing Sarasota trip, I was a little unsure about heading to North Carolina. I shouldn’t have been. RiverRun’s a terrifically run, intimate fest, one that I expect to hear a lot more about in the coming years.

Check out a video shot during the festival with Cold Weather’s Aaron Katz at his alma mater, the North Carolina School of the Arts.