Late night ramble: On 6/6/06, “Quinceañera” taught us some sh---
Well, since it was, up until about forty minutes ago, allegedly the day of the devil (6/6/06), I thought the title of my first blog entry ought reflect that. And what better way than with a fragmented, bastardized quote from a Morphine song (“On six-six-sixty-six, I was little I didn’t know sh—“). Here we are, in New England, and Mark Sandman, front man of that incredible Boston band Morphine died onstage in the nineties. (Tenuous connections, but it feels appropriate at this hour). They were a band that seemingly came together in a musical epiphany, with the hand of God pointing at them. “You will make this music for the people,” God may have been thinking. Assuming that’s how God works.
Being the devil’s day and all (even though scholars have suggested the real devil’s number is “616,” merely mistranslated over all of these years), I’ve been expecting something somewhat spiritual or at least oddly synchronous, to be in the air for the start of this Newport International Film Festival. When art, earnestness and kismet come together, well, miracles are possible. In ‘yo face, Satan!
(I’ll tell you about the miracles in a moment – forgive me for jumping around. It is late and I was just at the opening night reception at the Colony House where the fruity tequila drinks flowed freely and the “band” played loud, well, fruity music. But I digress, fair reader).
Oh, yeah - and the party ended long before the ice sculpture melted but right around the time I blinded the bartender as I took a picture of it:
So, miracles. I don't know whether programming director David Nugent and the NIFF powers that be had in mind that it would be 6/6/06 when they decided to run “Quinceañera” as the opening night film. Perhaps its Christian themes would bolster against the frightening number of the date. More likely is that they just had to show it – it’s that good.
Earlier this evening the packed house at the Jane Pickens watched the wonderful “Quinceañera,” a film based in Echo Park, California, about a Latino community being infiltrated (among other things) by what hardworking real estate agents refer to as “an up and coming community.” Basically, white people are buying up the neighborhood for big bucks and cooking their bland cauliflower soups in their expensive Le Creuset pots (in “flame”) while old men selling the best soup you could ever taste are being evicted in the holy name of gentrification. It is interesting to see the process from the other side.
“Quinceañera” refers to a girl’s coming-of-age party, for her fifteenth birthday. It is a ritual wherein the young Latina lady becomes a woman (and if she can help it, be ushered into womanhood by a Hummer limousine). There are fancy dresses, blooming roses and waltzing. When the adults aren’t watching (or are drunk) there is wild booty dancing, a limousine with a stripper’s pole inside and well, other things that you’ll just have to enjoy once the film is distributed by Sony Pictures Classics.
Virginal Magdalena, the main character, gets pregnant. It is a rare case, but scientifically explainable. Her father, though, a pastor, is much more comfortable believing it a miracle. Magdalena lives with her uncle Tomas (probably the most touching character in the film), as does her cousin Carlos, presumably disowned by his immediate family. Their relationship develops through hardship, and as a testament to the filmmakers, not sappily.
The characters are complex and the acting real. Some of the actors are non-actors, bringing to the film successful neo-realism similar to that of Cassavetes. Some of the scenes are ad-libbed, since the writers weren’t sure how these fifteen-year-old girls in Echo Park would normally converse. It makes these scenes ring true.
The writers of “Quinceañera” answered questions after the screening. One of them explained (answering the last question of the night) that it was miraculous that this film came about because of having “the right people, at the right place, at the right time.” What better way to start a weeklong festival of pieces of art on celluloid (and video, like this film) by ardent individuals and groups? (Again, take that, Satan!)
Also after the screening the women swooned when handsome Jesse Garcia, who plays Carlos, graced the stage. When asked if in real life he has the tattoos his character sports in the film he answered, “maybe.” The women tittered. He revealed the back of this neck which doesn’t have his character’s “213” tattoo.
One woman even told Jesse Garcia, instead of asking a question, that he is better looking in real life than in the movie. The activity onstage threatened to turn into a strip tease when he provocatively lifted his shirt to reveal that the “TRAVIESO” tattoo on his character’s stomach is also faux. "Oh well," the ladies collectively sighed. Still, I think the ladies appreciated that Jesse is a little bit of a troublemaker, as his character's tattoo suggests, translated.
More tomorrow. Mwah. The rain is coming down and it’s time for everyone in Newport to sleep well.
Well, since it was, up until about forty minutes ago, allegedly the day of the devil (6/6/06), I thought the title of my first blog entry ought reflect that. And what better way than with a fragmented, bastardized quote from a Morphine song (“On six-six-sixty-six, I was little I didn’t know sh—“). Here we are, in New England, and Mark Sandman, front man of that incredible Boston band Morphine died onstage in the nineties. (Tenuous connections, but it feels appropriate at this hour). They were a band that seemingly came together in a musical epiphany, with the hand of God pointing at them. “You will make this music for the people,” God may have been thinking. Assuming that’s how God works.
Being the devil’s day and all (even though scholars have suggested the real devil’s number is “616,” merely mistranslated over all of these years), I’ve been expecting something somewhat spiritual or at least oddly synchronous, to be in the air for the start of this Newport International Film Festival. When art, earnestness and kismet come together, well, miracles are possible. In ‘yo face, Satan!
(I’ll tell you about the miracles in a moment – forgive me for jumping around. It is late and I was just at the opening night reception at the Colony House where the fruity tequila drinks flowed freely and the “band” played loud, well, fruity music. But I digress, fair reader).
Oh, yeah - and the party ended long before the ice sculpture melted but right around the time I blinded the bartender as I took a picture of it:
So, miracles. I don't know whether programming director David Nugent and the NIFF powers that be had in mind that it would be 6/6/06 when they decided to run “Quinceañera” as the opening night film. Perhaps its Christian themes would bolster against the frightening number of the date. More likely is that they just had to show it – it’s that good.
Earlier this evening the packed house at the Jane Pickens watched the wonderful “Quinceañera,” a film based in Echo Park, California, about a Latino community being infiltrated (among other things) by what hardworking real estate agents refer to as “an up and coming community.” Basically, white people are buying up the neighborhood for big bucks and cooking their bland cauliflower soups in their expensive Le Creuset pots (in “flame”) while old men selling the best soup you could ever taste are being evicted in the holy name of gentrification. It is interesting to see the process from the other side.
“Quinceañera” refers to a girl’s coming-of-age party, for her fifteenth birthday. It is a ritual wherein the young Latina lady becomes a woman (and if she can help it, be ushered into womanhood by a Hummer limousine). There are fancy dresses, blooming roses and waltzing. When the adults aren’t watching (or are drunk) there is wild booty dancing, a limousine with a stripper’s pole inside and well, other things that you’ll just have to enjoy once the film is distributed by Sony Pictures Classics.
Virginal Magdalena, the main character, gets pregnant. It is a rare case, but scientifically explainable. Her father, though, a pastor, is much more comfortable believing it a miracle. Magdalena lives with her uncle Tomas (probably the most touching character in the film), as does her cousin Carlos, presumably disowned by his immediate family. Their relationship develops through hardship, and as a testament to the filmmakers, not sappily.
The characters are complex and the acting real. Some of the actors are non-actors, bringing to the film successful neo-realism similar to that of Cassavetes. Some of the scenes are ad-libbed, since the writers weren’t sure how these fifteen-year-old girls in Echo Park would normally converse. It makes these scenes ring true.
The writers of “Quinceañera” answered questions after the screening. One of them explained (answering the last question of the night) that it was miraculous that this film came about because of having “the right people, at the right place, at the right time.” What better way to start a weeklong festival of pieces of art on celluloid (and video, like this film) by ardent individuals and groups? (Again, take that, Satan!)
Also after the screening the women swooned when handsome Jesse Garcia, who plays Carlos, graced the stage. When asked if in real life he has the tattoos his character sports in the film he answered, “maybe.” The women tittered. He revealed the back of this neck which doesn’t have his character’s “213” tattoo.
One woman even told Jesse Garcia, instead of asking a question, that he is better looking in real life than in the movie. The activity onstage threatened to turn into a strip tease when he provocatively lifted his shirt to reveal that the “TRAVIESO” tattoo on his character’s stomach is also faux. "Oh well," the ladies collectively sighed. Still, I think the ladies appreciated that Jesse is a little bit of a troublemaker, as his character's tattoo suggests, translated.
More tomorrow. Mwah. The rain is coming down and it’s time for everyone in Newport to sleep well.
posted by Jenn Sutkowski at 12:40 AM
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