It was my first day attending the Los Angeles film festival and I really didn’t know what to expect. I found a parking lot, grabbed my festival map, and wandered through Westwood in search of the designated theater. I turned onto Broxton Ave and there it was; the street had been closed off to traffic and a huge “Los Angeles Film Festival” banner heralded my way into this new adventure. In that first moment I must have seen hundreds of volunteers with their big smiles and telltale badges shepherding patrons here and there. I had reached my destination; a 2:30 screening of the Brazilian Film “Love For Sale.” A pretty girl tore my ticket and handed me a voucher. The title of the film was printed in the middle of the voucher and on each of the four corners was a number and its corresponding attribute: 1 for poor, 2 for fair, 3 for good, 4 for great. We were instructed to tear off a corner at the end of the screening and return the vouchers to the volunteers. I’ve got to admit that I really dig this audience empowerment thing.

Right before the screening began I scanned the theater. It was a fair turn out, but the audience wasn’t packed. Frankly, I was grateful for the breathing room. Then the lights came down, the movie began and I was transported into a different world. “Love for Sale” captivated me; I relished every minute of it. As soon as the credits began rolling I tore the “4 for great” off of my voucher and, like a schoolgirl, sat in eager anticipation of the post screening Q and A with writer Mauricio Zacharias. This is what makes the “Los Angeles Film Festival” so unique and invaluable; in the context of this festival both films and their creators are accessible to the public.

After all my questions had been satisfied, I hurriedly ran out of the theater and down the street to my next destination; The Mann Theater festival screening of “What We do is Secret.”

This time the theater was packed. I spent a few moments contemplating the movie’s eclectic fan base. People of all generations and types sat around me; to my left a typical California bleach-blonde-surfer-dude, to my right sat a man in his forties with a Mohawk and safety pin earrings. As the lights came down a few individuals began to clap. By the time the title of the piece was revealed, the audience was roaring and clapping with the fervor of concert patrons. Considering the subject matter I found this raucous behavior quite appropriate; “What We Do Is Secret” is a biopic on Darby Crash, lead singer of “The Germs” and (according to Director Rodger Grossman) the “founding father of Punk Rock.”

A thunderous applause met the film’s end. The audience remained packed for the Q and A. I stopped the director for a few photos before heading out to the press check in at the “What We Do Is Secret” premier party in Hollywood.

The premier party was wonderfully intimate. The venue was club Element in the heart of Hollywood. Gorgeous actress Bijou Phillips was the first to arrive and graciously posed for pictures on the red carpet with Lorna Doom (the woman whom Phillips plays in the film). Cast mates Shane West and Ashton Holmes, along with Director Rodger Grossman, gingerly chatted with fans and the press as they filed in to the party.

The guests for the “What We do is Secret” premier were as diverse as the patrons who attended the screening. Stunning women in beautiful dresses seemed as appropriately clad as the punk rock kids with their mesh shirts and full body tattoos. Only in Hollywood, I thought to myself.

As I left the party I reflected back upon my experiences. There are few places in the world where one can go to see the premier screening of a film, meet the cast and then immediately engage the artists in a discussion of their work. I feel fortunate to live in a city with so many opportunities. Events such as the ‘Los Angeles Film Festival” make L.A. a remarkably interesting and exciting place to live. Don’t miss next year’s film festival; it is a truly unique experience.

For full reviews of the films I’ve mentioned please visit the arts section of this website.