Breaking News Breaking Down

So this morning I jump on the Internet before I head out the door for work. I have to log some tapes, and write today. I’ve got a project I need to finish up. So I look at the lengthy list of emails, and there it is, stuck right in between a facebook notification and an HP newsgram.

This is how you learn your fate. A short note. The notes go one of two ways.

Here is note number one…and it pretty much sucks!

“We were overwhelmed with entries…we got something like 6 billion films, (who knew there were that many movies made each year!) and while we wish we could accept every film (do you really believe that?) we can’t. So we had a difficult and painful decision to make, and even though your film BREAKING NEWS, BREAKING DOWN is terrific, we regret to inform you that it’s not accepted. Please keep us in mind when you produce your next film (this is the caveat in case they are rejecting the next Martin Scorsese…they want to make sure they can keep the door open.) because we want to continue to follow your progress.

I know what you are asking, did I get a note like that from Cannes? Please!!!! Are you kidding, in their note it’s probably more like 16 billion films. I didn’t even try with Cannes.

Note number two is much better and can actually make your day. I got note number two today from the folks at the Dark River Film Festival!

Congratulations! Your film has been selected to play at the festival. We do not have the show times exactly worked out as of yet, but will inform you as soon as we have them. Thank you for submitting a wonderful film that we can present to our audience.

Naturally I was pleased, but then I did a little digging. The festival only accepted four Documentaries. In some categories they didn’t select any films at all. Why? Well it’s spelled out in their mission statement. The Dark River Film Festival is truly an indie fest. It’s whole mission is to showcase the creatively defiant independent filmmaker. On their website they say their mission is to promote and award films that excel in form, technique, and to also showcase stories that challenge and transcend expectations. The website shouts:

The Dark River Film Festival is dedicated to recognizing and awarding the best films period! Unlike other festivals that show bias to locale, budget, or personal interests, Dark River looks for the best film with the best story.

And it’s the only fest that offers free judge and audience feedback!

So needless to say I’m stoked. My film will play at the Film Festival next month. If you are anywhere near it….buy a ticket, and grab some popcorn. If you do, you will be supporting me, the film, and the type of film festival all of us can appreciate.

I’m at home and watching the American League Series and starting to fret. I grew up in Southern California and have been a fan of the Angels since the days of Tom “Satch” Satriano and Jim Fregosi. I can remember going and watching the mastery of Nolan Ryan. I’m hoping the Angels can turn this series around.

When I was in College in the broadcast department, a friend and I got this hare brained idea to go to an Angels game. We thought we’d get press passes and pretend to be the real thing at the game. To our astonishment, we got the passes. We were able to get on to the field and mingle with the players. I remember getting my picture taken next to Brooks Robinson, and doing the same for my friend. Two college kids with eyes as big as the moon as they walked along on the field before the game in the company of big time ballplayers with the Orioles and Angels. Life couldn’t get any better, could it?

Now years later I watch the game and I think about my college friend. He took his place up in the stands with me in the nose bleeds on that day. As the game got underway, two teens took turns pretending to be Vin Scully or Dick Enberg. We had a little tape recorder and we took turns being the play by play announcers for an audience of no one. I suspect we weren’t very good. I’m not sure if the audio tapes still exist, or if he has them. Now all these years later , my friend is not at my side, now it’s my dog sitting next to me showing no interest in this game.

I’m thinking about my college friend. Because now while I watch the game I know that the exercise was just fun for me, but for my friend it was a taste of the future. So tonight I watch and root for the Angels and think about my college friend Rory Markas. He isn’t sitting in his home, he’s sitting in the broadcast booth at the stadium, he’s the voice of the Angels. He’s also proof that dreams do come true. I’m rooting for the Angels and my friend, and thankful he’s around. Almost a year ago we all feared he was going to be doing his announcing for those other Angels. He had a blood clot and was in intensive care for 10 days. So tonight I say go Angels…go Rory!!

I arrived early to just make sure the equipment was working right. I had been burned before by faulty equipment. Lena Jakobsson, ever the producer arrived at just about the same time. Both us were armed with our DVD’s. We wanted to play them during our SPJ session in Indianapolis. There is nothing worse than coming to a session carrying DVD’s and then finding out the machines simply don’t work right. You better have a plan B! Luckily we wouldn’t need one, the equipment worked perfectly.

So we had time to kill, and so we began to chit chat. I mentioned to Lena that I had just learned that the documentary about the Dart Society and Target New Orleans had just been accepted at the Flimmer Film Festival in Sweden. I saw Lena’s eyes light up, and she began to laugh. Flimmer, one of the most renowned Film Festivals in Southern Sweden, was also staged in Lena’s hometown of Norrkoping.

Suddenly all this extra time we had to kill was used for brainstorming. Deirdre had told me a few months back that she wanted to stage more of the screenings with panel discussions involving Dart Society members. Just a few months back Natalie Pompillio and Kelly Kennedy had joined me for a panel discussion at the National Press Club. It was a huge hit. Perhaps we could do the same in Sweden? I floated the idea with Deirdre and Dart Society President Scott North. Before long they had given the green light.

The film would screen three times at Flimmer. Because of the demands of her job Lena would only be able to be there for just one of the screenings. Her attendance was quite welcome, as she brought along family members to swell the audience. The films were well attended, since people in Sweden seem to have a keen interest in this subject matter.

After Norrkoping we would head to Stockholm. We were excited to enlist the aid of the Dart Center’s Liselotte Englund in Sweden. We were also lucky to have Kelly Kennedy getting us in touch with Johanne Hildebrandt, the premier war correspondent in Sweden. Between the two of them we quickly got in touch with Ulrika Knutson of Publicistklubben. It looked like we had the perfect venue for a screening and panel discussion. Everything looked etched in stone for October 12th, until Ulrika notified us that the Publicistklubben had a full agenda and they just would not be able to squeeze us in.

If it was in the States I would have gone into scramble mode. But I was overseas, and I didn’t know the language! Now both Lena and I had traveled all this way hoping to parlay the screening at the film festival with another event in Stockholm. This is where the plan to have Lena really paid off. With her language skills she was able to immediately jump on the phone and do what producers do. She worked the phone until she was able to line up a screening at Stockholm University. She had contacted the dean of the journalism department and he quickly put together the screening for us.

Johanne agreed to go along with us to the screening. The film and our discussion afterwards was a hit. So was Johanne. She candidly spoke about her time in the Balkans. She was hit by shrapnel, she had guns placed in the back of her head, she had dodged death so often that the numbing effect had really gripped her. She described what it was like hitting the wall, as she put it. Her story was so compelling, and she was so open about her experiences and her fears. She admitted to being reluctant to come to the screening, for fear of what it might stir up trapped inside her. But she said she really liked the film. She felt like it was a message of hope. She was also quite taken with the Dart Society, and the fact that there is an organization like ours out there. The Dean of the Journalism school was smart enough to invite her to come back to talk at length about her experiences as a War Correspondent in November. She agreed, and said that she would screen the film for a second time at the University, because she liked it that much.

I left Sweden encouraged by what I see as one of the true benefits of the film, and of being a part of the Society. I love the fact that the film allows journalists to talk about their own experiences. I also love the fact that after it screens I can talk to these journalists and tell them that there is a home for them in the Dart Society. That is why I am so excited that we will move in the near future to expand our membership.

The Dart Society is a great place for all of us to collaborate; it is also a great networking organization. I am also certain we have recruited a potential future Dart Ochberg Fellow in Johanne. Because of the people in the Society, from the folks at the top like Deirdre and Scott, to great friends like Kelly and Lena we were able to pull off a great event in Stockholm. Upon my return I got an email from Johanne. It said in part, “It was really great to have you here, and I was enjoying myself a lot. I was actually starting to talk about my job, which is a big step so the film was kind of a therapy for me.” That alone made the trip well worth it.

So I am standing there and they say…”Go”….and I begin to stroll down the red carpet. To say that the feeling is odd is an understatement. I used to be on the other side. Years ago I was in Houston….I was shouting….I wasn’t alone. I was the first to shout it, but not the last. “Clint over here, Clint just a few moments please!” Of course I’m not Clint Eastwood, not by a long shot….and to be honest no one is shouting my name. As I stroll down the red carpet, I am only eliciting odd looks. Sure some people are taking my picture, but if you asked them, they wouldn’t be able to tell you why.

It seems so funny 6 months ago I was an anchor. I was working Monday through Friday at the CBS station in Washington D.C.. I was at the pinnacle, but the pinnacle was about to take a plunge. I would anchor the news and breezily chat with my co-anchor as the 2 and 1/2 minute commercial break spit out ad after ad for Obama and McCain. But then it all ended. Hope, and change were just words in a commercial. The commercial wasn’t airing any longer. For me hope was fading, and change was just around the corner. Now if I needed to get to the bathroom during the break I had to dart. The commercials had vanished along with the voters.

A few months later, my documentary “Breaking News, Breaking Down” was complete, and it was time to take it out on the film festival circuit. News was broken, and broke, there wasn’t any revenue coming in, and a high priced news anchor was the last thing the station needed. I used to say that a newscast is really a Christmas tree, and management will tell you it’s the ornaments that really matter. The ornaments were car dealerships, and furniture stores, and they were hurting…and so their commercials were gone. The Christmas Tree was barren, and the layoffs were on the way.

So now I’m on the other side of the camera, I’m the guy that’s interviewed on the red carpet. Although I can’t help but see what I used to see in myself. The person interviewing me is engaged, but if you look closely you can see their eyes dart furtively. I know what they are thinking, maybe, just maybe Clint is coming down the red carpet next. They don’t want to miss him. So I dutifully answer the questions and then duck inside. It’s a whole new world, and a lot of fun. It’s intriguing to be on the other side of an interview. So the journey continues.