The Sarasota Film Festival 2018: The Greatest Show on Film

by Gus Mollasis

When the Sarasota Film Festival wraps, I always get a twinge of melancholy. The 10-day spring event is a time when the city stops to focus on film. It is a time for film lovers, art lovers, and lovers of this wonderful town to get their best duds on, do a last-second makeup check and get ready for their close-up, while taking in some films, parties and celebrating the magic of cinema.

It is a time I look forward to every year. In many ways it is my trip to Cannes without the time change or long flight. It is a time I await with great anticipation and a time that, sadly, goes by too fast.

I am a film fan. A filmmaker. A film teacher. And someone who spends a lot of time getting lost in the magic of cinema. So, for me, someone who has attended each of the 20 Sarasota Film Festivals as either a reviewer, reporter, filmmaker or fan, when the Sarasota Film Festival ends, I’m a little lost. 

It feels a little bit like when the circus leaves town after the big show. I feel like the Little Tramp in that final scene of the classic 1928 film, The Circus, where the circus has left town and Charlie Chaplin is left alone contemplating the good memories and memories yet to be made as he leaves the scene and heads alone down the road. 

My film pals, mainly gals named Amy, Becky and Ann, are dear friends who I share much of the ten days with, but for much of the rest of the year, we hardly see each other. I take comfort in knowing that the clock is ticking toward next year’s festival and I will once again get lost in the stories, share laughs with my cine-friends and meet the filmmakers of yesterday and tomorrow. 

As I sit in a surprisingly busy Sarasota restaurant in early June awaiting “The John Ringling of the Sarasota Film Festival,” Mark Famiglio, to arrive for our appointment, my mind went to flashbacks of the recent festival. 

I recalled the wonderful conversation series at Florida Studio Theatre with Eric Stoltz, Steve Guttenburg and Virginia Madsen. I attended all three and was impressed not only with their frankness and approachability, but also with their humility. All were very grateful for their chance to make it in the business and all recounted personal stories of their love of film, their big breaks and great roles, as well as the roles that got away. 

I could relate. 

A highlight for me was meeting and interviewing the spectacular Virginia Madsen. Her work in Sideways with Paul Giamatti is one of those films I can never turn off when it’s on the tube. It’s one of those films that no matter how many times I’ve seen it (at least 50 times!), I see something new and fresh with each screening. I wanted to convey that to Miss Madsen and tell her how appreciative I was of her authentic work in the film, especially in “the scene.” You know the scene? When she talks about “the life of wine as a living thing.” That scene gets me every time. To thank her, I gave her a Gardenia bud that I handpicked that morning. To be honest the Gardenia had seen better days but being the actor and nice person she appears to be, she accepted the once living thing with grace and gratitude while inhaling its fragrance and shooting me a smile saying, “It’s beautiful. Thank you. I’ll put it in water and it will be just like new.”

New memories. New films. New relationships. That’s what this festival has always been about to me.

I’ve met so many new friends here over the years. Acquaintances who have become good friends, some who have become collaborators, like my pal Mark Reese, who I met years ago. Today he’s my producing partner on our PBS series Diamonds along the Highway which we’re bringing back for a third season. I met Mark and his bride Patti as they were doing the festival circuit promoting their wonderful documentary film Boys in Winter, which captured the iconic 1955 Brooklyn Dodgers, including Mark’s daddy, Pee Wee Reese, as they went from being the boys of summer to the winter of their lives. This poignant film helped me mourn the loss of my own father. 

I’ve seen so many wonderful films over the years that become like friends to me. Films like The End of The Tour, Locke and Mimmo and Paulie. And this festival provided a diverse range of good and great films, several of which will undoubtedly be new friends to me. This festival, I made my way through about 75 films that included documentaries, shorts, narratives and one of the best and most important films I have ever seen anywhere – a film called The Sentence.

The neat thing is I saw it on the last day at a screening at the remodeled Hollywood 11 that I wasn’t even going to attend. Here’s the lesson: Go. Go see film. Because you just never know.

As I made my way to the front row of the sold-out movie theater, three seats away was a wonderful actor, movie star and friend of the Sarasota Film Festivals since the beginning, Penelope Ann Miller. She acted in The Artist, Chaplin, Carlito’s Way, Awakenings, The Freshman and many other good films. Heck, for me she’s Hollywood royalty, having made a film with Marlon Brando, Al Pacino and Robert De Niro – the three “Godfathers.” 

Did I mention that I have a Godfather problem?  I have seen The Godfather at least 150 times, The Godfather: Part II 100 times and The Godfather: Part III at least 25 times. 

I mentioned my Godfather problem to Dominic Chianese at SFF some years ago. “Dominic, I have a Godfather problem. I’ve seen The Godfather over 150 times.” Taking my cue, like a scene from a movie, he lifted his champagne glass while pinching my cheek. “Don’t worry kid, it’s the greatest film of all time.” He should know. Who was I to argue with the man who played Johnny Ola in The Godfather: Part II or Uncle Junior in the iconic mob series The Sopranos? 

Film memories. 

That’s what this festival has always been about to me. Like films, memories too must first be made before you can remember them. And I’ve made plenty of them during the Sarasota Film Festival.

I was hoping to make another one on this last day of SFF 2018.

As I settled into my seat, I had no idea what I was about to experience, make that what we were all about to experience as one collective audience. 

I was stunned by The Sentence. Moved to anger. Empathy. Sympathy. I’ve never experienced anything like it. The man next to me was exhausted but moved by the authentic, painful and inspiring story. He wasn’t alone. The guy in the back row. The lady in the middle row. The movie star in the front row. They all had similar reactions. It isn’t often a film totally takes over an audience. You could almost hear everyone breathing, laughing and crying as one. 

This documentary, created by Rudy Valdez, was more than a film. It was community outreach. It was government reform. It was like being in church when you are moved by the spirit. We were all moved by the spirit of this film, reminding us of the power of film. When done right, films that have something to say, like The Sentence, are truly something to behold. It tells the tragic real-life story of Cindy Shank (the sister of the filmmaker), mother of three, serving a 15-year sentence in federal prison for her tangential involvement with a Michigan drug ring and former boyfriend years earlier. It is a poignant and intimate portrait of Draconian minimum drug sentences and the devastating consequences that they brought upon this family. The Sentence is masterfully captured by Cindy’s brother, Rudy Valdez, and the story covers the loss of time, relationships and the things that matter most caused by an unfair sentence. We watch as a family, over the course of ten years, is pulled apart and finally put back together after the sentence is served. 

As the film closed, the audience took a collective sigh, deep breath, dabbed their eyes and got ready for an enlightening question and answer session with the filmmaker. 

Between thoughtful questions from moved audience members, I merely made a comment to the filmmaker. “This is exactly what a camera is made for – to capture stories like yours. Congratulations. This is the most moving film I have ever seen at this Festival in my 20 years of coming here.” 

I really meant it.

Looking over at Penelope Ann Miller, who was visibly moved to tears, I asked if I could get a brief interview. Dabbing her eyes, she obliged, saying “Yes, but let me get myself together first.” Outside one of the Hollywood 11 theaters, I interviewed the movie star who shined her light on the film and the festival. 

“The film was heartbreaking, powerful and shows the need for reform in the justice system. I was a blubbering mess. I couldn’t stop crying through the whole film. And I think that everyone felt the same way. There was not a dry eye in the audience. It’s for reasons like this that festivals are important. Films like this show how important the medium is in getting messages out that can motivate and inspire people to make changes.”

 “I’ve been coming here since the beginning twenty years ago. It’s amazing to see its growth and all the films, filmmakers that have come through and the impact they have had over the years. It’s a wonderful festival and I was honored when Mark (Famiglio) asked me to come back this year to be a judge.”

Mark Famiglio arrives, and we get a table in the crowded restaurant. We are both more relaxed than during the often-frenetic festival days. 

I ask the man, the ring leader of his circus, what his takeaway was from the latest SFF. 

“I was hoping that when the Festival drew to completion, I’d have a sense of where the independent film industry was moving. A sense that was maybe driven by the conversations I’d had with filmmakers, producers, directors and actors. And I didn’t really get that. I’m still trying to get that. I’m not really sure if the industry members themselves get it. I think they’re caught up in a little bit of a current. Cross currents. I’m not sure people know the direction that the industry is moving in. I know that commercially they’re dealing with things like Netflix and Amazon and Lord knows what’s going to be there two and three years from now. But things are definitely changing.” 

On looking back on the 20th Festival, the big man seemed pleased, especially with the various venues used and the many partners who came on board.

“As you know, at other festivals there are often multiple venues to take in films and events. We had a little bit more of that this past year. The Hollywood 11 was great. The new Art Ovation was a great partner. Florida Studio Theatre and the Opera House are fabulous venues and we’ve had some parties and outings in the block there. We’re grateful for their support. And in upcoming years we’ll be staging some exciting stuff at 322 Coconut, our new headquarters. We’re looking at a five-block area, where we should rename the street something like Cinephile Way or something similar.”      

Our conversation turned to film and the last day of the festival. I shared with him my experience of seeing the remarkable film, The Sentence, and interviewing Penelope Ann Miller.

He smiled and said, “I love Penelope Ann Miller. Penelope knows that I love her and I tell her. I will stop her in her tracks and hold her face, look her in the eyes and I say, no, Penelope, I love you and I mean it. She has been so supportive, so kind and is such a talent. I remember the first year she came to the festival and here she is coming to the 20th festival. She is not only a deeply talented woman, she is beautiful, funny and smart. I really love her.” 

I know what you mean Mark. I feel the same way. 

As our lunch winds down, I asked him what mark he wants to make with each festival. 

“I don’t know that it builds upon each year and don’t know if that’s relevant. I just know that each year it leaves a footprint. Some years slightly more ephemeral than others. I think with all the rapid pace of building and film-centric things in town, it tends to keep the spotlight off the film festival. But I think it has a serious impact. I think it’s imbedded in the town after twenty years.” 

“I also think that globally our footprint is more prominent. We’ve built on each preceding year to navigate the festival into a more pronounced and important position. People are coming from all over the United States. People who love the arts and film. They are choosing Sarasota and discovering it. And we know that the arts here are benefiting from that, and all the while that’s happening, the state support for the arts is being cut back and we’re very concerned about that.” 

He gave heartfelt praise for the crew that came on to work this festival.  

“We had a lot of new blood by design. The festival drew so many people that I have so much respect, reverence and affection for— people who rallied when it needed to happen. These are people who could have gotten very cynical when they were asked to go above and beyond. And they simply didn’t. These are people who I truly love and we are so, so, so lucky to have them work with us. These people literally made it happen. The whole crew was amazing. And I’d like to say they exceeded my expectations and I really didn’t have time to have expectations.”

“We just put one foot in front of the other. And that pace becomes quicker and quicker and quicker. And all of sudden you’re running, but you’re really not running. You’re just doing this weird dance at this incredible pace. So, the pace of the people that were working for the festival exceeded my expectations. The way they performed was literally superhuman.” 

Kind of like something you see in a great film or in the main ring of a circus.

Our meeting ends and our salutations are delivered sincerely under the beaming summer sun. The sundial and clock start ticking again for me and again I am left with that twinge of melancholy. And with a question. How many days until the 21st Sarasota Film Festival and the “greatest show on film” returns to town?

I smile as I pull away in hardly any traffic. My mind has wandered back to that place, that wonderful place, the movie theater and the film left me speechless—The Sentence. Just exactly what you’re supposed to do with a camera.

In twenty years, twenty crazy, wonderful, insightful and enlightening years in a sentence: The Sarasota Film Festival does exactly what a film festival should and can do. Counting the days until SFF 2019!

For more Scenes From an Interview, click here.