Rambow Greg Nickels: SIFF 2007 Opening Night
posted by May 25 at 13:20 PMon
Everybody I spoke to seemed to love the opening-night selection Son of Rambow, a movie about Will and Lee, two British kids in the ’80s respectively afflicted by smothering or neglectful home lives, who overcome all sort of obstacles (from falling in an oil pit to being crushed by enormous steel pillars) to premiere their adorable prequel to Rambo: First Blood in a theater showing Yentl. Whew.
The movie must overcome an initially forbidding level of cutes, which it does mostly through supersize but not wholly cartoonish violence. It also takes some ill-advised detours into social commentary: Will’s fundamentalist Christian mother shucks her veil to symbolize a newfound freedom. But mostly, it’s lovable. Son of Rambow will open theatrically sometime in 2008 and will not play later in the festival.
Before the movie, there was an awkward VIP reception, where topics included the best parties last year, Greg Nickels’s wayward son, the most promising parties this year, Greg Nickels’s wayward son, the picked-over fishbones at the party occurring right now, and—did we mention? Greg Nickels’s wayward son. Greg Nickels did not put in an appearance, though a wild ‘n’ whiskery Tom Skerritt did.
The only thing notable that happened during Carl Spence/Deborah Person/Gary Tucker’s famously long intro was that Stranger Genius award winner (and Academy Award nominee) James Longley was given an award by the city—something about bringing attention to the film infrastructure available in Seattle. Longley dutifully gave some shoutouts to the great postproduction facilities here—Alpha Cine, Modern Digital, Bad Animals, 911 Media Arts, etc.
And then, the gala.
There were blue drinks supplied by Bombay Sapphire:
There was delicious fried chicken supplied by Ezell’s:
There were crowds and long lines and cupcakes and projections of John Hughes movies on the walls. Much to Greg Nickels’s entirely imagined relief, topics of conversation shifted from Jake Nickels to the best Madonna song. Despite the copious free alcohol, this is the closest anyone came to debauchery atop the white tablecloths:
And then we all went home.
(Photos by Tim Wind)