It’s a Wrap: MV Film Festival 2016

IMG_4857Okay, so it wasn’t exactly Sundance or Cannes, and the outdoor “café” was comprised of hay bales and picnic tables inside a tent that was “heated” against the chilly, up island breezes, but the three-day Martha’s Vineyard Film Festival was a huge hit due to its people—filmmakers, fans, and the folks from Morning Glory Farm who provided fabulous food—and, mostly, to the terrific selection of over two dozen quality documentaries.

Take Wolfpack, for example. A riveting, disturbing, yet oddly inspirational story of six boys who were kept locked up for 14 years in the family’s Lower East Side Manhattan apartment, the film chronicles the boys’ ability to survive thanks to the creativity of their souls and the magic of movies. It won the Grand Jury Prize for U.S. Documentary at Sundance Film Festival last year.

By popular demand at MVFF, the film was shown three times. And, as if it wasn’t mesmerizing enough, at the end of each screening, out walked four of the Wolfpack boys who graciously answered audience questions.

I had a chance to speak with two of them between their appearances. We stood near a bale of hay; they were articulate, engaged, startlingly relaxed, and self-confident. They told me they’d been looking forward to coming to the Vineyard. “JAWS was one of our favorite movies,” Mukunda, the eldest, now 28, said. Good thing they stayed in Edgartown, where much of that film was shot.

It you have a chance, rent the DVD. The ways in which these boys grew and blossomed in an environment that would make many of us simply curl up and die is astounding. It is guaranteed—by me—to make you look at your own life differently . . . and with gratitude.

Though I didn’t get to watch (I sold t-shirts, mugs, and more to a bustling, happy crowd), the films covered a wide variety of topics that included the rising heroin epidemic on Cape Cod; the intriguing story of Anderson Cooper and his mother, Gloria Vanderbilt; and the chronicle of a Sri Lankan man who escaped that country’s civil war with a two strangers—woman and an orphan. Titled Dheepan, the film won the Palme d’Or at the 2015 Cannes Film Festival. Another unique screening was Presenting Princess Shaw, the story of Samantha Montgomery, who, by day, is a caregiver for the elderly; by night she’s Princess Shaw, a soulful singer who turned into a viral sensation.

Samantha/Princess was at MVFF, too. On the last day of the festival, I spotted her sitting on a picnic table bench, staring across the expanse of lawn between the Chilmark Community Center and Chilmark School.

“How are you doing?” I asked.

She smiled wistfully. “This has been such an amazing experience,” she said. “I’ve been trying to figure out if the Vineyard can possibly be a real place. And if the people are real people.”

I laughed. “Maybe we’re just another movie,” I said.

She nodded.

I walked away, completely understanding how she felt.

Not so fast, lady.

Jumping BridgeThe sun was bright and warm for November, the water sparkled as if it were August. In the distance a fishing boat bobbed on the surf, a lone ferry chugged toward the Vineyard from the Cape. It was a spectacular, picturesque day, all blue and green and gold, the kind reserved for brochure photos that lure tourists into booking passage, rooms, and tables in restaurants. But, of course, I’m in this story, so there is a twist.

As I cruised along Beach Road on the stretch between Edgartown and Oak Bluffs (not another car in sight), I was mesmerized by the beauty and the peace and the serenity all around. I praised myself for having moved here; I’m sure that I was smiling. I almost reached the Jumping Bridge that most folks recognize from JAWS (cue the soundtrack) . . . when suddenly a blue flashing light lit up my rearview mirror.

“Was I speeding?” I asked the nice officer in the blue-and-gray outfit.

“Yes.”

I was horrified. “I guess I was daydreaming. I was so distracted by the water . . .”

“License and registration, please.”

Well, there’s no need to elaborate. Suffice it to say I sat in shame while he called in my info. I hoped nothing vile showed up on my record if I have a record beyond the red light I ran back in Hadley when I was trying to rush home before my groceries defrosted.

And now, with hands folded, head hanging, I suddenly thought about a friend who once won the lottery. He was delirious until he learned that 14 others would share the jackpot, resulting in a much-diluted sum after taxes. He said, “The worst part is that was my only ‘first chance.’ I mean, who hits Megabucks more than once?”

Being stopped for speeding is hardly like winning the lottery, but it crossed my mind that this had been my only “first chance” at getting a moving violation on the island. I couldn’t believe I’d used it up after living here just two months.

The good news is that the nice policeman only gave me a warning. Perhaps he’d been mesmerized by the gorgeous day, too. Whatever the reason, I was grateful.

On the way home I obeyed the speed limit. And I stopped and bought a Megabucks ticket.

Town Meeting Tonight!


Town Meeting tonight! Town Meeting tonight!

When I was a kid, my family went to Cape Cod on vacation. I clearly remember going to Provincetown, where a Town Crier – dressed in colonial garb – marched through the streets, ringing a brass bell, making all kinds of important announcements. I can’t recall what he said, but I was mesmerized by him.

I keep looking for a Town Crier to march up and down Main Street in Edgartown now, telling all who can hear that tonight is the Town Meeting at the Whaling Church! (Where is a brass bell when I need one?) Anyway, I’m told that the meeting shall be a memorable experience.

And if the banner itself looks familiar…well, remember JAWS? A eerily similar banner was stretched across the street – practically the same location – announcing the 4th of July Celebration. Yikes. I hope no great whites show up tonight.