Day 8: Friday, March 14

We figured that a good way to spend our last day at the festival would be to go watch “Doomsday” at a multiplex somewhere. It opened in wide release today without having been screened for critics, and it had to do with a deadly virus and a post-apocalyptic wasteland, and what the heck, why not? It’s not like we were already at a film festival or anything.

I suggested last night that we catch today’s noon showing, as this would enable me to be back downtown in time for a 3:30 SXSW film I wanted to see. But Weinberg insisted noon would be far too early, considering we were about to stay up too late watching movies, so we planned on the 2:30 showing instead. Indeed, noon came quite early after our 4 a.m. bedtime. Honestly, even 2:30 was pushing it. Also honestly, why were we in such a hurry to see “Doomsday”? We make no sense.

Weinberg, Eugene, Goss, and I took a cab to a multiplex a few miles south of downtown. We did indeed watch “Doomsday.” This happened without incident.

Afterward we sauntered over to the nearby Barnes & Noble to do some browsing, the other three in the sci-fi/fantasy/nerd section, me in the magazine aisle. (Long-time readers may recall that I get kind of obsessive about finding the current Entertainment Weekly when I am away from home.) Then we walked to Arby’s for lunch — not because any of us particularly like Arby’s, but because it was the only reasonable choice within our immediate field of vision. I would guess this is how Arby’s gets a lot of its business.

It was after our meal that we began to discover the pickle we were in. You can’t hail a cab anywhere in Austin except right downtown, and even then your prospects are dicey. Your best bet is to call the cab company and have them dispatch one to you — but when we called, one company told us it would be at least an hour, and the other company didn’t even answer their phone.

We started walking up South Lamar Boulevard, figuring we might see a taxi that way. At the very least, we knew we’d come to a bus stop eventually and could get downtown by means of public transportation (as if we were common poor people!). We found a stop, and a woman waiting there said a bus should be along in about 15 minutes. Goss called Austin Cab Company again and was met with great annoyance when he could not provide the exact street address of our location. Giving the dispatcher five obvious, unique, unmistakable landmarks and an approximate address was insufficient for Austin Cab Company, an outfit that, despite its name, apparently has no knowledge whatsoever of the streets of Austin. Maybe “Austin” is just the name of the guy who started the company. At any rate, Austin Cab Company refused to do business with us and has thus forever earned our scorn and condemnation. Their competition, Lone Star Cab Co., shall be our sole taxi service in Austin henceforward. SUCK IT, AUSTIN CAB COMPANY. We hate you, and we hate your ass face.

The four of us were grumpy and sweaty by now. I sat in an abandoned shopping cart (as photographed by Goss) and read Entertainment Weekly while we waited for a bus to show up. When it did, we learned that it would only take us up South Lamar, leaving us to walk another mile or so east to the SXSW venues. We accepted this as the best offer we were going to get, exited the bus at 6th Street, and trudged toward our final destinations. Weinberg’s fury at the bus’s failure to stop at 3rd Street (where he wanted to get off), and then at his inability to hail a cab, grew to Incredible Hulk proportions. We feared he would lay waste to the city of Austin with his wrath.

Eventually we made it to Congress Avenue, where Eugene went to secure a place in line for the 7:00 movie while Goss, Weinberg, and I headed to the hotel near the Convention Center. Goss and I had left our festival badges there, thinking we’d be back from “Doomsday” with two hours to spare rather than 30 minutes. We retrieved our badges and trudged back to Congress Avenue. Weinberg stayed in the room to write and pout.

SXSW’s music festival was in full swing by now, with 6th Street closed to automobile traffic so that the hundreds of skinny identical-looking hipsters could wander aimlessly and drunkenly from one music venue (read: bar) to the next. 6th Street takes on a carnival-like atmosphere during the music fest, with bands competing with each other for the eardrums of passersby and the streets clogged with revelers. It strongly resembles Mardi Gras, only with less boob-showing and bead-acquiring.

Goss and I were weary and cranky and in no mood to be jostled by indie-rock fans. Someone representing Dentyne Ice was handing out free samples of the gum to anyone who passed him. We took some. Then the guy wanted to take our picture holding the gum. This seemed like a strange thing to want to do. Had there been some question back at Dentyne headquarters about whether people would accept offers of free gum? Did this intern need proof? “See, guys?” I imagined him saying when he got back to the office. “I told you people would take free gum if you offered it to them!” Goss and I dutifully stood still long enough to have our photo taken, but we did not smile or in any other way indicate that the free gum had brought us any amount of pleasure. I do not think these photos will appear in any Dentyne promotional materials.

At this point in the film festival, it is easy to get a seat, even for big premieres. Many of the festival-goers have gone home already. We joined Eugene in the Paramount Theatre and watched “Assassination of a High School President,” a film-noir-detective-comedy-drama about a school newspaper reporter investigating the theft of some SATs. Childress saw it at Sundance and HATED it, but it turns out he was orndorfing us: We all found it quite suitably funny and entertaining — not a classic, perhaps, but certainly not bad.

(By the way, the new Rolling Stones concert film “Shine a Light,” directed by Martin Scorsese, was allegedly screening at SXSW tonight at 7:30. However, all the SXSW website and printed film guide had to say about its location was that it was on an IMAX screen. There was no indication where this alleged IMAX screen was. Was it like a treasure hunt? Did anybody find it? Were the raisiny, emaciated corpses of the Rolling Stones in attendance? I have no idea.)

I went back to Weinberg’s hotel room after “Assassination” to write my “Doomsday” review and hang around until our midnight movie. It was a documentary called “Not Your Typical Bigfoot Movie,” about a couple of very devoted Bigfoot researchers who live (of course) in the Southern backwoods somewhere. They have lots of “pictures” of Bigfoot that are actually pictures of various wooded areas in which there are shadows that sort of look like the shape of something that could be Bigfoot, if they weren’t just shadows and if Bigfoot existed. I never tire of watching documentaries about idiots. Never.

This was a very short documentary (62 minutes!), which is nice for a midnight film. Afterward a whole bunch of us wound up at party headquarters, aka Weinberg’s hotel room, with some of the people from “Dance of the Dead,” which had its third and final screening tonight. The screening went well, and the filmmakers have been in talks with some people about getting it distributed theatrically. They couldn’t tell us anything definite, but it seems promising. It’s definitely a film that could do good business with the horror crowd.

At around 2:30, I was pretty tired and wanted to head over to Casa de Greg to get some sleep. I made my farewells with everyone and headed downstairs to catch a cab. None were to be found. The woman at the hotel’s front desk said that with the music festival in full swing, getting a taxi would take at least an hour. I gave up and went back to Weinberg’s room to doze for a while. Finally, at about 4, I went down to the street to try again and was glad to find a Lone Star Cab rather than the hated Austin Cab Company. At this point, I probably would have forsaken my principles and taken whichever one showed up first, so I’m glad it was Lone Star.

* * *

And thus ended my 2008 South By Southwest experience. I can’t overstate how much I love almost every aspect of this festival. I love the programming, which includes some serious movies but mostly focuses on fun, non-stuffy titles like “Forgetting Sarah Marshall.” (Sundance would program something like that only over Robert Redford’s dead, leathery body.) I love the Alamo Drafthouse. I love seeing my friends. I love the SXSW audiences, which are generally good-natured, well-behaved, and fun to interact with. I love SXSW’s tireless producer Matt Dentler, even if he does introduce every film by saying, “The minute I saw this film, I knew we had to get it for South By Southwest.” His vision of the festival — of its identity and its place among other film festivals — is perfect.

Long live Matt Dentler and SXSW! Long live the Alamo Drafthouse! And long live me, Eric D. Snider! I’ll see you in 2009.

This entry was posted on Friday, March 21st, 2008 at 1:19 pm and is filed under SXSW Film Festival. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.