by Kelli Ford

Standing in line at the Dobie...

After twenty minutes of sitting alone except for one poor badgeless soul, I'm almost there. Finally, there it is; the smell of popcorn -- pop, pop, pop -- Whee! The blue room borders suddenly light up the ceiling. Here I am, I'm one of them. "Kelli Ford, Austin Downtown Arts -- FILM" my purple badge boldly states for all of those SXSW ticket takers. Yes, I am official, and in line number one. Number two is reserved for those who have individual passes, and number three is for those with neither passes nor badges. After two missed attempts to see American Chain Gang, Xackery Irving's first feature length film, I am the third in line number one.

I look around. I see a big, shiny Gold Badge pass me...and another one. And then a Platinum Badge. I am third in line number one. ONE, damn it! I would have been first in line, but my press kits I was diligently looking over fell in the floor as I was trying to sprint to the assigned line place. Where are these people going? Do they have a special screening rooms with hors d'oeuvres and Guinness? I was on top of the world, and suddenly I find out I am third in line and at least third down the ladder of the SXSW Film hierarchy. I nervously enter the theater half expecting it to be filled with the secretive gold and platinum badge holders.

It's okay. I am in, and I have a good seat so Guineas and finger foods be damned. I'm gonna see a movie -- hopefully a good one -- for free so I can report back to you guys. The Heavens are a-shinin' today. Before this afternoon, I checked out Amerikan Passport, directed and produced by Reed Paget, and American Hollow, directed and produced by Rory Kennedy.

I knew nothing about Amerikan Passport before I moseyed into the theater just as the movie began. It looked interesting in SXSW guidebook, and I thought I could do a cute little American documentary motif for my reviews. Paget, who first called his film A Beer Drinker's Guide to Global Politics, takes you on his four year journey through sixteen countries with nothing more than a used 16 mm camera and a microphone. His narration throughout the film gives you the feeling that you are getting to see a personal dairy on the big screen. Which is exactly what you get, complete with hints and snippets of a love interest that developed in Costa Rica. However, the film is far from mush. Paget chose to seek the truth behind American foreign policy in some of the most dangerous places in the world, and we get to watch him -- from the comfort of a theater thankfully -- run from Chinese soldiers, sneak visaless through Cambodia, and brave civil war in El Salvador. Through interviews and personal experiences, Paget shows us the contrast of ideals -- from both the left and the right -- versus realities. This was my favorite film, and a major distributor will surely pick it up so you can catch it in theaters soon.

Next on my list was American Hollow. (Rushing to the theater, again I was late by SXSW time standards. I forgot my notebook, and the director didn't answer my last minute email requesting a press kit; so I have to pull this review from my memory.) American Hollow is a family portrait. Rory Kennedy takes us deep into the Kentucky hills to spend a year with the Bowling family. These are true to the phrase, "down home country folks." They don't have running water and exist with help from government checks and by selling herbs they gather in the hills. Kennedy does a good job of drawing us into the Bowling's lives and showing us that many of their day to day struggles are just like ours. Eighteen year-old Clint Bowling yells, "The school system sucks!" He yearns to get out of Mudlick hollow away from his unlces who, "don't do nothing but pick roots," and has his heart ripped out, picked up, and ripped out again by his girlfriend. Kennedy remarkably portrays the humanity of this family. Their humor is too. Without seeming urbanly condescending -- okay not too often -- the audience erupted with laughter throughout the film. If I hadn't seen Amerikan Passport first, this would have been my favorite film. Go see it.

And now, back to American Chain Gang. Irving, who directed, produced, and filmed the documentary, shows us to a side of America about which everyone has an opinion, and there don't seem to be any perfect solutions. He filmed inmates and prison officers at the Limestone Correctional Facility in Alabama and the Maricopa County Women's Prison in Arizona where both facilities had recently reinstated the use of the chain gang as punishment for the prisoners. Irving was careful not to pass judgement, and shows us both officers and prisoners. (By the way, the officers tend to be the ones who have the most obvious attitude problems.) Most effective, however, are the scenes of the prisoners working chained together surrounded by officers carrying shotguns and pistols. The only problem I had with this film is its shortness. At only 56 minutes, I was left wanting more. He covered all the bases, I think -- there could be no clear-cut resolution with subject matter such as this. I just liked the film so much, I wanted to keep on watching it. It would have definitely be my favorite if it I hadn't seen the other two first.

I saw three distinctly different documentaries, and left the theater contemplating and questioning each time. Not questioning the films; questioning our lives and how we live them. I think that one of the best things you can do in film or art for that matter -- help us look deeper within ourselves. No eye candy here, just three quality and honest films. Go see any or all of these films wherever they show up next.