Silverdocs is dead. Long live, uh, AFI Docs presented by Audi?

Say what? The acclaimed local documentary film festival and industry confab announced that it is changing its name and adjusting its focus, adding venues inside the District line and cutting a few days from its schedule.

Did nobody at AFI see Morgan Spurlock’s cheeky doc, Pom Wonderful Presents: The Greatest Movie Ever Sold? Which shines a bright and damning light on the world of corporate sponsorship, product placement, and movie marketing—and is itself a much better title than AFI Docs presented by Audi. The AFI’s press release feels the need to point out right away that “[t]he official festival name is ‘AFI Docs presented by Audi’ and should be referred to as such at least once within a story.”

OK, done.

It’s understandable that the American Film Institute, AFI, wants more blatant branding. But tossing out a decade of recognizable branding and good will, along with the much more mellifluous name Silverdocs, seems like brandicide—which is a word I just made up and am now trademarking for all my future branding needs: Brandicide®.

Even without Audi’s moniker attached like a corporate remora fish, “AFI Docs” just doesn’t roll off the tongue and is simply bland. The “silver” in Silverdocs could be read as an homage to silver nitrate film stock, but more directly to the AFI’s beautifully-restored Silver Theatre and Cultural Center, as well as Silver Spring, where all the action takes place.

Or did. Now much of that action will occur at the Newseum, the National Portrait Gallery, and other D.C. venues. Irritatingly, much of the coverage has pitched the story as the festival “expanding into D.C.”—as if a retail chain from the Midwest were opening a new branch. Indiewire got it completely wrong with the headline, “AFI Announces Expansion of Documentary Fest AFI Docs Into DC Area.” Note to everyone: Silver Spring is already in “the DC area.” From under the marquee of the Silver Theatre it’s a fairly short walk down Colesville Road to the District line, or a slightly longer but totally manageable stroll up Georgia Avenue and into George Pelecanos novel territory.

I call this cosmopolitan provincialism, the notion that hipsters seem to have that anything that occurs beyond their particular sphere of coolness—Columbia Heights, Penn Quarter, NOMA—is literally beyond the pale. My pal and Washington City Paper colleague Mark Jenkins once bemoaned in a review that walking from the Silver Spring Metro to the Silver Theater was some kind of burden. In fact, it’s one block from the station, a walk that takes you past the beautiful, LEED-certified Discovery building. It is slightly uphill, but you can see the theater marquee when you step off the train, so the trek shouldn’t seem too hopeless. Note to cosmopolitan provincialists: it’s a quicker walk to the Silver Theatre from the Silver Spring Metro than it will be from any Metro station to the Newseum, where the AFI Docs conferences will now be held.

Or the Catalyst Sessions, the new name for what used to be the fairly traditional though always interesting and helpful industry conferences and symposiums of past festivals. Sounds like organizers may be going for something more TED-like. Which might be cool. Or, like many latter-day TED Talks, insufferable. I’ll wait and see.

Why this extreme makeover is happening was hinted at in Ann Hornaday’s Washington Post story. Discovery Networks, the original co-founder and major funder of Silverdocs, wanted out. As Hornaday put it, “shifts in Discovery’s corporate focus…resulted in a decline in the channel’s support in recent years.” Discovery began as an outlet for documentaries and science-based programming—largely from Australia, as I remember from those early days when cable TV was new and exciting and you’d watch anything, including documentaries from Australia.

But the network has long since traded uplift for downright degradation, with cheap tabloid “reality” fare such as Amish Mafia and Moonshiners. And Discovery’s hideous offspring, TLC (where, please recall, the L used to stand for “Learning”) is given over to even more soul-destroying shows such as Here Comes Honey Boo Boo and various hoarder-exploitation series. That’s corporate focus.

Standing in the dizzying multi-story atrium of the Discovery building at the opening night party for the 2008 fest, I was surprised to learn from a Discovery employee that the cable network lost money on Silverdocs. How can you lose money, I thought. This place is jammed, and jamming. The opening night film that year was More Than a Game, featuring LeBron James. Who showed up, briefly, I’m told. Money didn’t seem to matter back then. Towering ice sculptures built to dispense fancy vodka drinks (still have the battery-powered light-up martini glass), a special Stella Atois bar as cool as in the commercials, and outside in the lush courtyard, DJs pumping out the beats late into the night—good times.

But the parties became quieter and last year there was no opening gala to speak of.

And what of Silver Spring? Despite the happy spin of the press release, this move is a loss for the community.

Yes, I complain because I’m something of a provincialist myself. I like that I could walk to Silverdocs. But I also complain because I love the festival and want it to succeed.

My relationship with Silverdocs goes back to its beginning. City Paper was one of the first sponsors and, in addition to a free pass to all the swell parties and a cool logo-imprinted messenger bag, I was honored to introduce a film one year. In 2008, as an independent writer, I blogged the hell out of the program. For the last few years (though not this year), I was a volunteer screener, watching as many as 40 films each spring and offering comments and recommendations to the review board. Silverdocs receives upwards of 5,000 entries, each hoping for one of the hundred or so spots, so this work was essential. I saw a lot of junk but also a lot of great films. It’s a testament to the quality of Silverdocs that only a few of the films I recommended actually made it into the program.

So Audi drives to the rescue, for now. But when car sales slip or “corporate focus” changes, then what? AFI Docs presented by Jiffy Lube? AFI Docs presented by Google Street View? AFI Docs presented by the Law Firm of Ashcraft & Gerel?

Well, I still have my Silverdocs messenger bag.

This was a pretty darn great year at the movies. Very few clunkers on this list. And it’s not that I choose wisely (re: Underworld—I’ve seen ‘em all with my good friend O’Leary and we had to complete the set), there really were a lot of wonderful movies. From mainstream studios we got Argo and possibly the best James Bond movie ever. And then there were small gems such as Safety Not Guaranteed and Goon.

Of the 248 movies released in 2012 I saw 41 in theaters and 47 via Redbox—including the Mark Wahlberg film Contraband, which gave me deja vu until I realized it was a remake of a 2008 Icelandic film, Reykjavík-Rotterdam, by the same director, which I reviewed for Filmfest DC. I like Wahlberg, but the original is better.

In fact, a couple Filmfest and Silverdocs films from years past showed up in theaters, a good sign. Look for the French drama Monsieur Lazar and you will not be disappointed. And it was great to see the Silverdocs documentary Beware Mr. Baker get a theatrical run.

In 2012 I saw four films in 3D, none of which dazzled me the way Avatar did. This idea directors have that “it can’t be about the effect; the story comes first” is all well and good except—why the hell did you make a 3D film if you’re not gonna make it 3D?! Even my good friend Mr. Sam Raimi was unusually restrained with the technology in his film Oz the Great and Powerful. He only gave into temptation a few times, throwing stuff at the audience’s heads. (Coulda used a lot more of that, Sam. Or just thrown more stuff at James Franco’s head. Mighta woken him up.)

And throwing stuff at the audience’s heads is the whole point of 3D, despite what Martin Scorsese says. (Side note: Can you imagine if Raimi had made Evil Dead in 3D? Actually, that’s perhaps the most 3D non-3D movie ever.)

Some of the films released in 2012 I didn’t get around to seeing until 2013, including Flight, Not Fade Away, This Is 40, Hyde Park on Hudson, and Quartet, I woulda given the Oscar to Denzel for Flight. I needed a drink after watching that.

The Theater Breakdown

I saw three movies out of town. Two were in Richmond, one at the Bowtie Cinemas on Boulevard, built in a converted railroad factory, and one at the glorious Byrd, a 1928 showplace. I not only saw Ted for $1, but also got a follow-the-bouncing-ball singalong of Christmas carols by the organist.

I saw Lincoln on the Jersey Shore at the second-run Beach Cinema. The kid in the box office was dressed up at the president. He already had the beard, so why not?

I only got out once to the new Angelika in the, uh, “Mosaic District,” by which they mean Merrifield, Va., a mosaic of one-story warehouses and fast-food joints. But it’s a fine addition to the area, bringing D.C.’s number of art-house and indie screens to around 33. While I didn’t sample the “global menu” at the cafe, I did lounge in the loft bar. While its an impressive space, it’s also incredibly wasteful. The first two floors are pretty much empty, dedicated instead to stairs, escalators, and elevators to get you to the screens on the third floor. Perhaps the architect thought he was designing a museum, because that’s the vibe of the place.

Anyway, here’s the breakdown of how many films I saw where:

• AFI Silver—16
• AMC Mazza Gallerie—2
• Angelika—1
• Avalon—1
• Landmark Bethesda Row—2
• Landmark E Street—3
• Regal Majestic—13
• Uptown—1
• West End Cinema—6

The Regal and Silver are in the neighborhood so of course I’m there the most. I’m sorry I only saw one film at the Avalon, as it’s one of my faves and I’m also a member. But that one film was Silver Linings Playlist, which might be my favorite of the year. I hope to get back to the Angelika. I notice that DC Shorts will be screening some of its films there this year, so my chances are good. I also should get to the Uptown more often, because I worry that, as a single-screen theater, it’s days are numbered.

The List — Films I Saw in Theaters:

1. 48 Hour Film Project (4 out of 10 screenings)
2. 48 Hour Music Video Project (I was also a producer)
3. Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter 3D
4. Arbitrage
5. Argo
6. The Avengers
7. Beasts of the Southern Wild
8. The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel
9. Beware Mr. Baker
10. The Bourne Legacy
11. Comic-Con Episode IV: A Fan’s Hope
12. The Dark Knight Rises
13. Diana Vreeland: The Eye Must Travel
14. The Extraordinary Voyage and A Flight to the Moon*
15. God Bless America (a Bobcat Goldthwait outrage)
16. Goon
17. The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey 3D
18. Jiro Dreams of Sushi
19. Lincoln
20. Looper
21. The Master
22. Men in Black 3
23. Mission Impossible 4: Ghost Protocol
24. Moonrise Kingdom
25. Pitch Perfect
26. Plimpton! Starring George Plimpton as Himself
27. Portrait of Wally
28. Premium Rush
29. Prometheus 3D
30. Safety Not Guaranteed
31. Searching for Sugarman
32. Seven Psychopaths
33. Silver Linings Playbook
34. Skyfall
35. Ted
36. This Must Be the Place
37. Time Zero
38. Ultrasonic**
39. Underworld: Awakening 3D
40. Wanderlust
41. The Watch
42. Withnail & I
43. Young Adult

* An amazing documentary on George Melies and the restoration of his 1902 classic.

** Ultrasonic is a not-bad local film from a first-time director, shot all around Northeast and Northwest using the Canon T2i, an entry-level still camera that shoots hi-def video. It’s part of the HDSLR revolution. A preponderance of last year’s 48 Hour Film Project movies were created with Canon DSLRs.

My profile of artist Bradley Stevens is in today’s Washington Post.

I was completely charmed by his paintings of the insides of various museums, many familiar but all having a sense of deja vu. I wanted to write about Stevens’ work because I felt it was the kind of serious-but-not-fashionable art that goes mostly unmentioned. For one thing, Stevens is a representational painter, a style that’s been losing credibility with critics since photography came along. But Stevens has been making his living with his brushes for a long time, and I felt that effort deserved some notice. I fully expected someone at the Post to pooh-pooh the idea. Perhaps the pooh-bahs weren’t looking.

There may be some unsold paintings from his “Museum Studies” series available at the charming Warm Springs Gallery in also-charming Charlottesville, Va. And, Brad has an upcoming show beginning April 10 at the Buchanan Partners Gallery, part of the Hylton Performing Arts Center in Manassas. While that show features other Stevens works, some of the “Museum Studies” works will be on display as well.

After 14 years of work, my documentary, The Bayou: DC’s Killer Joint, airs Monday, Feb. 25, at 9 p.m. on Maryland Public Television stations (channel 22 in most of the D.C. area).

Produced by Dave Lilling through his Metro Teleproductions company, with expert and tireless assistance from Bill Scanlan and Vinnie Perrone, the program brings together the entire musical history of the Washington, D.C., area from the past 60 years as seen from the vantage point of one of the city’s most important and longest-lasting nightclubs. From gangsters in the ’40s, Dixieland, burlesque and murder in the ’50s, the introduction of rock ‘n’ roll in the ’60s, the first U.S. gigs by Foreigner and U2 in the ’70s and ’80s, right up to acts such as the Dave Matthews Band in the ’90s — everyone played the Bayou.

Because Mr. Lilling never takes no for an answer, the film will also screen on nearly 20 other PBS stations across the country. As they say, check your local listings.

Part of the funding came from a successful Kickstarter campaign. If anyone needs consulting on their Kickstarter project, drop a line.

Outtakes and other info here.

Anyway, the store was moving across the street to a larger space so I thought I’d try to capture the magic that was Barbarian, an oasis of analog splendor in a world soon to vanish into bits and bytes. Aw, now I’m gonna cry.

More months ago than I care to admit, a nice young fellow sent me, just out of the blue, a book he’d written. The book was Your Wildest Dreams, Within Reason and the nice young author was a former Rockvillian, Mike Sacks.

Growing up in the All-America City, Mike says he noted my byline in various publications and thought I might be a kindred spirit in the écriture drôle business. And so I am!

And it also turns out that I already owned a Mike Sacks book, the unexpected but wildly entertaining/educational And Here’s the Kicker: Conversations with Top Humor Writers About Their Craft, which contains so much comedy gold, including an interview with then-nonagenarian Irving Brecher, who wrote for the Marx Brothers. (!) (I grabbed the extra interviews that didn’t make the hard copy from McSweeneys. You should, too.) Fortunately for us all, Mike is working on a second volume. Read his recent interview with the reclusive humor genius Henry Beard here.

Of course, Mike was not merely being nice in sending the book. He also was, politely, interested in securing my review. I was flattered and eager to help. But wasn’t it Bismark who said, “First, kill all the eager ones”? A truism, because my help turned out less than helpful. My pitch to the Washington Post — local boy makes good, writes book containing items of local interest — was turned down with a curt reply that they don’t do “those” kind of books. That is, collections of funny stories. Sigh.

And there was no love from Washington City Paper, either. The Potomac Patch managed to smile on Mike. Sigh, sigh.

So, I said I’d put the review on my own damn site. And, finally, finally, finally, here it is.

But it’s more than a review, and less. I conducted a brief Q&A with Sacks. And during my unpardonable delay, Sacks was tapped by the Funny or Die conglomerate to run its new humor book imprint. (Stories here and here.) So I asked him about this new endeavor:

“I’m not into the idea that the only humor books that will work are by stand-up comedians or by famous bloggers,” he said. “I think the humor section of bookstores can be far richer and deeper than it is now. I guess it’s similar to the difference between pop radio and altnera-radio, which is more willing to go out on a limb.”

And as this is definitely the 21st century, e-books will be part of the imprint’s business plan. Says Sacks: “A lot can be done with electronic books when it comes to humor—it hasn’t been tapped yet. This is true especially when famous actors, comedians are willing to get involved with video, audio and other mediums that will only help with the book’s humor.”

Well, there’s another reason to get a Kindle!

Turns out, I had read some of the stories from Wildest Dreams on McSweeney’s. And I laughed a second time, which is the benchmark of quality jokewriting. Many other pieces were originally published in the New Yorker, Esquire, and Vanity Fair, where Sacks works.

As I noted quite a while ago, print-based, word-rich literate humor writing is a continuing casualty of our mod-a-go-go digitized, Instagrammed world. Which is why it’s both a delight and surprise that young Sacks bothers with the form, and succeeds so well. Wildest Dreams sustains a consistent tone and Sacks has a keen eye for the droll and absurd. Just reading the story titles, it’s not hard to imagine they come from an updated Robert Benchley book: “Rules For My Cuddle Party,” “Dr. Margaret MacLeod: Daydream Tutor,” “A Few Things I’ve Discovered About Teenagers.” Especially amusing is a running series featuring clueless aspiring author Rhon Penny (the H is silent), who pesters famous authors in hopes of collaborating with them. Just high-minded idiocy throughout.

Sacks notes in his intro that the stories are not linked in any way. But in fact what links them all is Sacks’ affection for his hometown, Rockville, USA. Wildest Dreams is riddled with references to this area. The dedication page name-checks Poolesville and on page 25 we find “Starbucks in the Congressional strip mall, Rockville, Maryland.” Another tale takes us to the intersection of Falls and River Roads. I stopped counting there are so many. How many will you spot?

Some of the local color is routine, others are part of the gag, as in the story “Shaft in the Suburbs,” subtitled “Groove Time in Potomac, Maryland.” Yes, the concept of plunking the super-funky Shaft into a tame cul de sac is solid in and of itself. But us locals get an extra charge out of the piece because we know exactly how Potomac is the perfectly wrong place for anything super-funky. Likewise, reading the word “Hammerjacks” provokes a special frisson hereabouts.

One hopes that Sacks will continue writing humorous prose, and putting out his own books, in addition to whatever is to come from the Funny or Die venture. And now, a few Qs and As with The Author:

Q: Do you find yourself using D.C. references because of an intrinsic humor value or to amuse yourself?

MIKE: I think it’s mostly to amuse myself. Growing up, I could never find books that took place in the D.C. suburbs. There were plenty of stories about silly cats living in the White House, or society mysteries that took place in Georgetown, but nothing really outside of that—beyond boring political nonsense. And it’s fun to write about locations where I once dreamed about writing books.

Plus, even though I’ve lived in New York for 10 years now, I still think of myself as a Washingtonian—especially this time of year, around Spring.

Q: There seems to be a renaissance (though, perhaps not a Renaissance) of humor books. Many people (me) point to the ’20s, ’30s, and ’40s, when Robert Benchley, SJ Perelman, and James Thurber were cranking out the comic prose, or the 1970s, when Woody Allen had a great run, as the heyday of funny books. Until recently, a walk through the “Humor” section of any non-bankrupt bookstore revealed mostly collections of cartoons and sad volumes from the Jokes for the Bathroom series. Why so many laughable books now? And/or, is this true? And what are your thoughts on Benchley, et. al.? Could Perelman get published today, what with his thesaurus-quality vocabulary?

MIKE: There does seem to be a tremendous surge in popularity of writing humor books, which I find odd, as there’s very little money in it. It seems that a lot of stand-ups want to write books, for whatever reason. Perhaps it’s a sense that they’ve made the big time. Or, perhaps, publishers and agents encourage comics to write these books. With that said, I don’t think the quality of most of these books is top-notch. There are some that are good, but I’m not too impressed with most of them. It seems that they’re produced very quickly, read very quickly, and then forgotten very quickly.

I like Benchley a lot, more so than Perelman, who I always thought was trying too hard. I think Woody Allen’s recent work wants to be Perelmen-esque, and I’m not a fan of it. Ideas can be complicated, but I don’t think the language has to be; and, in fact, a fancy style can often take away from the strength of a joke. With that said, I can see why Perelman’s work is popular and has lasted. It’s polished to a high gleam. He put a tremendous amount of care into the work. But if anything, I prefer the scripts he wrote for the Marx Brothers to his written work.

Could Perelman be published today? Not if he didn’t have his own HBO stand-up special. I think marketing counts for more today than talent.

Q: And how did you come to be so productive in this field? You seem to have a day job that should take up most of your time. Or does it?

MIKE: I just work [at writing] everyday and try not to take any days off. And I enjoy it. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t do it. I’d find an excuse to not do it. I work here in the editorial department of Vanity Fair. I can’t really write at work, but I do work on writing in the mornings and at nights. It’s a pleasurable distraction. And it is amazing how much one can accomplish by not watching five hours of TV a night (I only watch four).

One answer, a determining factor in the 1976 victory, and I quote: “The completion of a goals-setting program.” Another reason: A Bicentennial flower program. Totally true. Somewhere in the Nuttycombe Archives I have the city newsletter that divulged that information — and was the inspiration for this project.

But that is only hinted at in this video, produced for Storer Communications, the cable company for neighboring Prince George’s County. Titled “All Around the Beltway,” this was the first, and last, of a projected series that would, indeed, take viewers all around the Beltway. As I recall, I even shot an opening segment, where I’m standing up in a convertible while it is driving rapidly on I-495. That was crazy.

But as I said, this was as far as we got. I’m forgetting now the nice cameraman — Bill, I believe. This video comes from a VHS dub of the 3/4-inch tape master. Technology!

Hey, I’m on a podcast, which is a thing now. Bill Coughlan of the cleverly enterprising and interestingly named Tohubohu Productions, asked me to speak about the recent 48 Hour Music Video Project, which I was honored to co-produce with Mark Ruppert, creator of the original 48 Hour Film Project, of which I am a battered veteran.

The event, which brings together bands and filmmakers to create a music video over a weekend, started this year in Albuquerque, created by 48 Hour co-founder Liz Langston. The idea quickly spread throughout the 48 Hour film community — Paris, London, the Netherlands, India, South Africa — before the timing was right to bring it all back home to Washington, where the 48 Hour phenomenon began. As with most 48 Hour events, against the odds the results were delightfully entertaining. Expect a second show next year.

Here are a few of the award winners:

Cairo Fred and Bigger Boat Productions kept their senses of humor after being booted off their original location to produce the witty “Everything.”

Drew Gibson and the Charm City DSLR group were so excited about their efforts that they spent the following weeks polishing and perfecting the video for Drew’s haunting song “We Move by Wagon Train.” Not that it needed much tweaking.

The Best Video award went to the band Exit 10 and filmmakers DC Dogs for the sly “Tango With the Devil.”

You may listen to and/or download the podcast here.