IFF '07 (jay's contribution)

The collaborative film debut of acclaimed stage director Peter A. Maritson and edgy, avant-garde cinematographer Eve Quick documents an existential journey in winter-dark northern Norway in TAKE A BUS TO ALTA (2006), the much-anticipated entry in this year’s Imaginary Film Festival. A young man, Nils, played in a dangerously disarming way by newcomer Collin Eric Peterson finds himself thousands of miles removed from friends, family and home in a strangely familiar, yet oddly unsettling place. His search for nourishment and human warmth at Christmastime becomes something quite unexpected.

The sinister issues of man’s inhumanity to man, and peace and conflict edge like knives into the mind of our protagonist as the dark and claustrophobic hours pass on a six-hour bus trip. Passenger interactions play out dramas that eerily reflect all that happens in our world in a larger sense. Are the images in the bus window ghostly apparitions, or simply reflections of other passengers . . . ? or both? The usually reclusive Director Maritson, in an uncharacteristically outspoken interview commented, “I was just so sick of that Hallmark Christmas crap that I felt compelled to bring my own vision to the iconic Christmas journey story.” In the end, our hero Nils, finds what he was looking for. But was he looking for what he finds?

IFF '07 (mj's contribution)

THE MESSAGE (2006) Can one message change the course of your entire lifetime? The question that many don't dare to ask is challenged in this small-budget movie. The story takes place in a small town in Northern Norway in the year of 1981. A small yellow post-it note is posted on the cubicle wall of our lead actress. The note simply says: "I think you smell nice". Her thoughts start galloping at the speed of light as she ponders who the mystery man could be. The story builds up on the post-it note relationship that blossoms as the notes start appearing on a regular basis. Our anonymous leading lady decides to take a chance and leave her own note on the cubicle wall of the man she suspects of courting her with the notes. This is a story of miscommunication and misinterpretations, of smiles and suspicion, but also ultimately of discomfort and shame. A tale of how things can go desperately wrong in a town where shyness is a virtue.

The movie is a part of a larger group of movies fighting for the removal of janteloven.

IFF '07

It is with great pleasure and excitement that I announce the first annual Imaginary Film Festival (IFF)!

I have been so inspired by my work with the Nordic Youth Film Festival (NUFF) and the Tromsø International Film Festival (TIFF) that I have decided to start my own film festival...namely a fake one. Here's how is works: Make up a movie - one you'd really like to see - and write a short, one-paragraph description for the IFF catalogue. Allow me to illustrate:

DO NOT COVER (2006) is director Juliaana Nypponen's first feature film. Shot over a three-month period in the frigid climes of arctic Finland, this film tells the remarkable and semi-true story of Scoot and Stiven, fraternal twins separated at birth and recently reunited. For the brothers, what begins as an obligatory journey across the frozen tundra in search of a forgotten piece of family land ends up as an expedition into the depths of their hearts - to a place neither knew existed...a place called brotherhood. Nypponen's film gracefully tackles such melancholic subjects as separation, death, and loss, leaving us with but one thought in our minds: DO NOT COVER.

Ok, now you try. This is gonna be the greatest imaginary film festival ever!

trucks!

I saw a picture of a truck recently that reminded me of the Stephen King - AC/DC collaboration Maximum Overdrive. It's a movie.

If you haven't seen it, do.

I have had the same weird, inexplicable reaction - laughing uncontrollably while at the same time being totally embarrased and terrified - to two things in life: Maximum Overdrive and the time in seventh grade when I took our cat, Pete, to the animal clinic and watched him scratch and bite the hell out of vet. I'm not sure why I had this reaction, but as far as I know, I haven't had it any other time.

Poor vet.

that's why they call me Mister Fahrenheit

I've been listening to a lot of Queen lately and decided that "Don't Stop Me Now" is gonna be my theme song for a little while. Not because I'm on a role or anything, but mostly just because as soon as I hear it I suddenly feel like I'm in a movie and that people are watching me and thinking "She's in control!" Even if I'm just walking to the busstop or trying to decide between orange juice and tropical juice (the former being healthier and the latter tastier) - suddenly I'm taller, I'm faster, I'm wittier, I'm.....I'm.....
Like a tiger defying the laws of gravity.
I'm a racing car passing by like Lady Godiva.

Watch out. Don't stop me now, fools!

the secrets and the signals and the system

Our Prayer of Thanks by Carl Sandburg

For the gladness here where the sun is shining at evening on the weeds at the river,
Our prayer of thanks.

For the laughter of children who tumble barefooted and bareheaded in the summer grass,
Our prayer of thanks.

For the sunset and the stars, the women and the white arms that hold us,
Our prayer of thanks.

God,
If you are deaf and blind, if this is all lost to you,
God, if the dead in their coffins amid the silver handles on the edge of town, or the reckless dead of war days thrown unknown in pits, if these dead are forever deaf and blind and lost,
Our prayer of thanks.

God,
The game is all your way, the secrets and the signals and the system; and so for the break of the game and the first play and the last.
Our prayer of thanks.

art exhibit going national

The Redd Barna art exhibit we spent 11 hours setting up last Friday is going to be featured in a segment on Frokost TV (think Good Morning America, just Norwegian) this Friday. That's pretty exciting. We had the opening yesterday - a very low-key affair involving two fifth grade classes singing a song about tolerance and respect, lots of Redd Barna flag-waving, and a speech by the mayor that was drowned out by a big garbage truck.

So far, nobody has gone to the bathroom, thrown up, or fallen asleep on the exhibit (which is precariously perched next to taxi line (aka: lots of drunk people on Friday and Saturday night)) but I'm preparing myself for the worst and hoping for the best. Such is life!

t-giv in h-sink

I got two emails today (one from my sister in Mpls. and one from Miss Bliss in Finland) that contained a couple of the greatest word abbreviations I've seen yet.

In summary, I'll be celebrating T-giv in H-sink this year.

(I won't actually be celebrating Thanksgiving in Helsinki, but it sure would've been rad.)

long friday

In Norway, they call "Good Friday" "Long Friday." Maybe it's just me, but I don't often associate crucifixion with a word like "Good." "Bad Friday" or "Painful Friday"... even "Freaky Friday"perhaps, but definitely not "Good." I think "Long Friday" makes more sense. But it also conjures up a hilarious image in my head of J.C. debriefing with the Big Man when it was all over - putting his feet up on the coffee table, takin' a swig of beer - saying something like "Man, it's been a long Friday."

Why, you might ask, am I writing about this? Easter is months away! Yes, but Friday the 17th was one LONG Friday. I spent approximately 11 hours in the freezing cold rain helping to set up this art exhibit. We built a house. Well, a shack. And I got an electrical shock, a free hamburger, ten frozen toes, and intense pain in every bone of my body. It sounds horrible, but it was actually quite fun. The company was good, and I also got to climb like a monkey and perch myself on top of some scaffolding in order to hoist some gigantic pictures up into the air. The photos are really beautiful.

As I sat up on that scaffolding, fearing for my life everytime the North Wind came tearing through, I realized that I wouldn't have an experience like this anywhere else on earth. Only here. Only in the Arctic.

It was a long, but great Friday. And I (re)met someone really fantastic.

a crane, some scaffolding, and a carpenter

I've been put in charge of organizing the construction of a big art exhibit for Save the Children that involves some huge photographs, some slightly less huge photographs, and a house. Knock on the table (as they say in Norwegian) but everything has gone pretty well so far. The day of construction is set for Friday and I have located an enormous container that went missing in Kristiansand for a couple weeks, a crane, some scaffolding, electricity, volunteers, and step ladders. But where, oh where, might I find a carpenter? One skilled carpenter who is willing to donate five hours of time to a good cause is the last piece of the puzzle.

Heck, at this point I'd settle for any kind of carpenter.

it's all in the name

Here's Collin Peterson, the guy from Minnesota's 7th Congressional District who shares 2/3 of my name. He looks like a reasonable fellow. But with a name like that, he's gotta be, eh?!

see no evil

my absent absentee ballot

I forgot to send in an absentee ballot - which makes me feel kind of crappy. But did you know that they only count the absentee ballots if it's a really tight race? And since I expect the democrats to take the republicans to the cleaners this time around, my ballot wouldn't have been counted anyway. If you ask me, this whole "not counting absentee ballots in a close race" thing is probably just another republican gimmick when you take into consideration the fact that people who chose to live abroad probably lean more to the left than they do to the right.

my left eye

Ok. Here's another poem.
This one's called My Left Eye


My Left Eye

I stabbed my left eye last night
with a mascara brush.
It hurt so bad,
I thought I might go blind.
But I think I just scratched
the cornea
or conjunctiva
or something.
I can still see.
So that's good.

walt disney resort

I zoned out during a classmate's presentation the other day - sorry, Simon - and I wrote a poem called Walt Disney Resort.


Walt Disney Resort

Win me a trip to a Walt Disney Resort on the Price is Right.
I don't care which one.
Just take me to the palm trees and buy me a pina colada.
You can have one, too.
Then we can swim all day long and get wrinkly like chicken McNuggets.
Like two chicken McNuggets in the sun.
Thank you.