By Michael E. Miller
By Ryan Yousefi
By Kyle Munzenrieder
By Sabrina Rodriguez
By Michael E. Miller
By Carlos Suarez De Jesus
By Luther Campbell
By Kyle Munzenrieder
I am watching all this from the lobby downstairs. This is supposed to be my interview time, but I am not the one who published pieces last year excoriating the 2002 fest for empty seats, dismal sales, and films that arrived late or not at all. I'm not the one who at the end of last year's festival blasted Florida International University president Mitch Maidique for his hire of 2002 director David Poland, an Internet journalist with no experience organizing a festival. And I'm not named in the letter the much-maligned Poland sent to New Times and, he says, a "few friends" in an effort to counter what he considers the "mythology" about his six-month tenure.
Poland's screed makes for a riveting he-said, she-said read. Delivered just before the opening of the 2003 festival, the letter details Poland's version of his derailment by nefarious university forces and the exaggeration of his festival's failings by a series of what he calls "attack pieces" in the Herald, all written, he claims, by "one inexperienced, cranky, flu-ish critic."
That's right: Rene Rodriguez.
"Yeah, David, I ruined the film festival," says the critic, who otherwise seems maybe not so cranky this year. He rolls his eyes when asked about the accusations. "He sent that letter everywhere," Rodriguez claims, shaking his head. "I'm really that powerful."
The conversation is cut short by the arrival of Guillemet, who has followed Rodriguez down the stairs to the lobby and pulls him aside to show him one last thing. The two of them nod again, but before I can get over there and insinuate myself, Guillemet is off, walking and talking fast with director Jacques Perrin, whose Winged Migration she will introduce across the causeway at the Gusman Center for the Performing Arts in 45 minutes.
Programming a documentary about the flight patterns of birds at 1:00 p.m. on a perfect Sunday afternoon in Miami at the cavernous 1700-seat movie palace -- at the same time festival award winners are screening at additional sites at the Regal South Beach Cinema and the Intracoastal Cinema in North Miami Beach -- is one of Guillemet's biggest gambles. But the director-ferrying SUV, on loan from sponsor BMW, pulls up to a full house, and at the end of the breathtaking film Perrin receives a standing ovation.
Guillemet filled the house this year with wonderful programming, which ranged from the risky Winged Migration to the hard-hitting documentary The Day My God Died (about sex slavery in India), to the brutal dramatic feature Irreversible (it begins with a nine-minute rape scene). She began and ended, though, with fun and safe crowd-pleasers -- El Otro Lado de la Cama (The Other Side of the Bed) and Jet Lag. So though her film selection abilities were formidable, perhaps her impressive sense of public relations is equally responsible for her unqualified success.
First there's Rodriguez. Whether or not the Herald critic does have the power, as Poland puts it, to "bury" a festival director, Guillemet took no chances, courting him with her balance sheets and irresistible French charm.
She also wooed back many of the supporters of Nat Chediak, the festival's founder, who -- after eighteen years at the helm -- resigned over "artistic differences" with FIU in 2001. Guillemet led what one staffer calls an "effort to re-engage the core," hosting a prefestival series of films at the Gusman featuring question-and-answer sessions with directors and talent, giving interviews to practically anyone who'd ask questions. She proved herself as genuinely taken with filmmakers and audiences as she is with her film selections.
The campaign climaxed on opening night with what can only be described as a Nat Chediak love fest. Even FIU president Maidique, who by many accounts had been none too sad to see Chediak go, saw fit to observe the twentieth anniversary of the festival by paying tribute to the sainted, iconoclastic founder -- drawing perhaps the loudest and most sustained applause of the festival. The other speakers piled on. Director Emilio Martínez Lázaro (director of El Otro Lado and a frequent participant in the festival under Chediak), called himself both a friend and an admirer. Guillemet, in her soothing Gallic accent, thanked Chediak for his work building the festival over nineteen years. With that simple, willed mathematical error (so François Mitterrand!), David Poland and the traumatic 2002 were erased.
Despite all the love flowing from the Gusman, Chediak himself may well have forgotten all about the festival -- attending a tribute to U2 singer Bono in New York City as a prelude to winning a Grammy for his first album in his new career as a record producer. And if friends called to let him know how his name was praised in Miami on opening night, he's not saying anything about it. "At the risk of repeating myself," he says, as he has whenever questioned about the film fest since his resignation, "no comment."