CIFF 2004: Forty Years of Traveling the World in Chicago

OH, THE PLACES YOU'LL GO is the title of a children's book, and I hear those words in my head, as I eagerly page through the 2004 Chicago International Festival program. I become as giddy as a kid anticipating all the places I'll go: the new eyes I'll be privilaged to see with, fresh angles on the human experience as lived in so many different places and ways, conveyed through so many different artists. Inevitably, many of the films from around the world during "these difficult days" (to borrow a euphemism from one) concern people under incredibly difficult circumstances: and often the best of humanity comes out under pressure of the worst. Other times, just merely being able to talk about the difficulties of our lives offers its own kind of hope. People around the world are struggling with so many of the same things — not just terrorism or globalism, but even more local issues: love, sex, dreams, death, the pursuit of happiness and meaning — all the assorted universal stuff of life, lived out under their own rich particular circumstances. An international film festival is a chance to join a worldwide community in conversation, to be fed by the stream of life, to experience the personal enrichment and expansion that comes of travel without going anywhere. Or, rather, without leaving your theater seat. For going places is the actually the essence of the film festival experience.

In 1965, CIFF founder Michael Kutza maxed his credit cards and launched the wild ride that has carried him and all who've jumped on the bandwagon to so many places they'd never have otherwise been able to go. For CIFF's 40th anniversary, Kutza has promised a the biggest and best fest ever. This year's festival features 164 films from 44 countries, with new Special Presentations that include special guest directors and actors, with CIFF honors going to Annette Bening, Christopher Walken and Robert Zemeckis. To show our appreciation for being allowed to come along for the ride the past few years, Flickerings will do our part to help celebrate with our own expanded coverage of CIFF 2004. We'll open the fest with more than a dozen reviews and add to the total as the days go by. Among these we'll include a few of the "Flashback" and "Critic's Choice" selections: films that have made an particular impact at the festival or for various local critics over the years. Hopefully, we'll hit a few of the "buzz" films from Cannes, TIFF and elsewhere, definitely the new Godard and the Flashback screening of Iranian director Deriush Mehrjui's The Cow. What I'm looking forward most, though, is my favorite festival experience: the unexpected discovery, finding a film that seems to have slipped under the radar that turns out to be among my favorites.

Meanwhile, let me introduce this year's rating-system: not stars, but baseballs. Last year, for the first time in the history of cinema, there was a collision between the Chicago International Film Festival and postseason baseball here on the North Side. Suddenly, there were unexpected choices to make, and parking problems around the Music Box Theatre at the edge of Wrigleyville. This year, of course, it's a non-issue — and not just because the Music Box isn't participating in the fest this year (and will be much missed, hopefully next year both the Music Box and the Cubs will be back!) But while the possibility of postseason baseball was still a possibility for this October in Chicago, I came up with a film-rating system based on the relative value a fan of both baseball and cinema might assign to going to a movie versus staying home to watch the game. If this dilemma holds no tension for you, consider that the Cubs have not won the World Series since D. W. Griffith was making one-reelers for Biograph, and you'll get a sense of how serious the question of such an exchange rate would be for many of us.

So here's the system. (Sorry the little baseballs are a bit dodgy. I'll replace them if I come up with nicer ones.)

 Easy call. Skip the movie and watch the game. Real life can be better than a movie.
 Watch the game. Not the worst movie ever made, but not worth missing the playoffs.
 You make the call: from where I sit, it's a tossup between the movie or the game.
 Go see this film. There is more to life than baseball.
 Extraordinary, maybe even masterpiece. As in, "Baseball? What is baseball?"


Of course, since there won't be any competition with championship baseball this year in Chicago, the film festival is the only game in town. But there's still choices to be made, and hopefully our reviews will be helpful for some in making them. For those readers who aren't in Chicago, our coverage of CIFF will give you a chance to see what you're missing, and give you a heads up on films to watch for as many come (cross your fingers) to nationwide theatrical release or eventually on DVD.