The hectic frenzy of another festival visit is finished and I'm now holed up in some small town I've never heard of... Paris, I think it's called. We've travelled over to these parts to be in Biarritz to attend the Festival International des Programmes Audiovisuels where 'murundak - songs of freedom' was screening in competition and, in the midst of meetings and madness we encountered an incredible bunch of filmmakers from Colombia, Hungary, France, Israel, Holland, Austria, New Zealand (eggs) and Sweden.
After three days of being shacked up in the hotel finishing off a script draft, I think I kinda threw myself on the other directors like a frisky terrier, but it was a rare pleasure to spend so much time drinking and talking and watching their films. A film festival, for me, feels like Disneyland must feel to a ten year old. I go crazy to the point of paralysis. I don't want to miss a thing so I eat too much ice cream, throw up on the first rollercoaster and then miss almost everything else. But, amid all the anxiety of films I might never see, it ended up being a beautiful experience (Cue: tears and post-bandcamp nostalgia). There were some incredible films, incredible stories, and a crew of incredibly passionate filmmakers whose desire to connect was inspiring.
Here's some photographs...
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