by Larry Richman
October 13, 2006 10:34 PM

Hello from the Woodstock Film Festival! I almost said bonjour when it hit me that the Toronto Film Festival ended a couple of weeks back. I barely had time to unpack my bags, and...if it's Friday, this must be...about as far removed from the big city as one can get. "By the time we got to Woodstock..." played incessantly in my head the entire ride up, and this time the New York State Thruway was open, fortunately. And although there aren't "half a million strong" as there were almost 40 years ago (has it been that long?) there's still quite the crowd here spilling across several towns throughout the Catskill Mountains region. Although Woodstock is where the action is centralized, the festival venues are actually spread out like the spokes of a wheel. Imagine Woodstock at the center. To the northwest is Hunter, to the southwest is Rosendale, and to the southeast is Rhinebeck. The distance from Woodstock to each town is about a half hour. So one must plan one's schedule carefully. I actually chose to stay at a hotel in Kingston, which is situated to the south of Woodstock by 15 minutes, so it's 15 minutes to Rosendale and 15 minutes to Rhinebeck for me. It didn't take me long to get the lay of the land, and what a land it is. So many adjectives come to mind -- bucolic, peaceful, majestic -- they all apply. As if that wasn't enough, it's the peak of the fall foliage season when the colors are changing. Imagine all reds and golden brown and yellow all around surrounding winding mountain roads. It is in this setting that the Woodstock Film Festival takes place.

After settling into my room, I briskly walked past the pool, whirlpool spa, game room with air hockey and ping pong (sigh), and all the wonderful amenities of a cozy ski lodge since, well, I ain't here for schussing, I was off to the Woodstock Playhouse where the main box office is located. It's hard to get lost up here since there's basically one road that connects each town. "Just go that way and keep going..." and you'll get there. It was at that moment, as I arrived at my first destination, that I realized just how different this festival is. The roads were empty. There was a huge, free parking lot right in front of the box office. There were a few people milling around buying tickets and other merchandise, and it was all on a porch. Yes, a porch. No big sleek glass-walled tower, no storefront converted into a ticket office, no, just a couple of outside windows, as if walking up to buy a custard or some lemonade. I had some gaps in my schedule and wanted to pick up some last minute tickets. Unlike the other festivals, I was able to get what I wanted. Now, some screenings are sold out, but those were the ones I'd already purchased tickets for in advance. Everyone was friendly. It was all so, well, unhurried. A festival on Valium. And I mean that in the most complimentary sense. After Sundance, SXSW, Philadelphia, Tribeca, and Toronto, this is downright homespun.

I only had one film scheduled for tonight, but I still knew I needed to arrive at the theater an hour beforehand. That's the way it's been at all the festivals. So off I headed to the Rosendale Theater in Rosendale. It's a quaint little town, with just one main street. And...you guessed it, it's called Main Street. I almost drove right past the theater because it just looks like another storefront on the block. The 15 minutes I'd allowed for parking were moot since a large free lot sat right behind the theater. I walked up to the line to wait. But wait...there is no line? Am I in the right place? Lovely Ann Osmond of the Festival met me in the lobby. "Where is the ticket holders line?" I asked. She just smiled and said, "Welcome to Rosendale." So, as it turned out, I could have arrived over an hour later and just wandered in. Fortunately, I chatted up the locals working in the theater and we shared tales of festivals past. As I looked off to the left at the ancient candy machines, and to the right at the old wooden doors which don't really stay closed enough to block out the conversations in the lobby from the theatergoers inside, it was as if I'd been transported back to the 40's through some freakish Twilight Zone-like time warp. I quickly learned that somewhere along the way the organizers of the Woodstock Film Festival wanted to remain as true to the roots of the legendary Music & Arts festival of the same name.

I've come to this theater tonight for the East Coast Premiere of "Off the Black," which I've been highly anticipating ever since it had its World Premiere at Sundance. I had a conflict and was unable to attend. At Tribeca in March, after seeing the World Premiere of "Local Color" (see my review elsewhere on this blog), I had complimented Trevor Morgan on his performance in that film. "Have you seen "Off the Black" yet?" he asked me. "No, not yet," I replied, to witness a look of horror on his face followed by, "you have to see it." And so the quest began. The film was picked up for distribution shortly thereafter by ThinkFilm, and will be rolled out to cities nationwide beginning December 1, but I'm not one to wait. So here I am. Trevor couldn't make it, but writer/director James Ponsoldt, producer Scott Macaulay, and editor Sabine Hoffman did, and I briefly chatted with them in the lobby before the screening. Ponsoldt introduced the film, smartly pointing out to the audience of mostly area folk that it was shot on location in Suffern, right down the road. So it's a "local film," to which the audience rightly cheered. He's made short films for years, and was here a couple of years ago for that reason, but this is his first feature. And so the lights went down, and I finally had the chance to see what I'd waited all year for. I'll be posting my thoughts about the film next.