Last Saturday night at the Tampa International Film Festival at Madstone Theater in Old Hyde Park, festival founder Rob Tregenza introduced the French film A La Petite Semaine, and its director, Sam Karmann, then said, basically, roll 'em - and the film came on with no sound.
Groans in the audience.
Tregenza called for sound, and when it didn't come, he stalked up the aisle, came back and asked us to be patient. They would start the film at the beginning. The film came back on - and it snapped.
Tregenza again asked for our patience, and explained why it would take a while to rewind. He offered refunds to anyone who didn't want to wait.
"I'm sorry, Sam," he said to the film director who was sitting across the aisle from me. He sounded like he meant it.
A couple dozen people got up and walked out, but most of them returned with popcorn.
In about 20 minutes the film came back on.
It was very good, wry and sophisticated but not the least bit inaccessible. It had ex-cons, a bumbled stick-up and plenty of funny scenes. One difference between France and here is that in France when a petty crook gets out of jail he goes directly to the bar where he used to hang out, and everyone toasts him with champagne.
After the movie, Sam Karmann took some questions. He looked the part of a French film director - tall with a Gallic nose and dressed in dark neutrals, maybe black, gray, brown; who could tell in a semi-dark theater? He was likable, charming and when asked how to get a movie made in France, it sounded pretty much like here, except there are fewer places to go to get money to make a film. Karmann said to save money he made the movie in Romania.
The Tampa International Film Festival is in its second year, and this time it runs for nine days. Except for opening night, there are three films shown a day from 14 different countries including Iran, Cuba, Turkey and the Czech Republic. The festival is a real coup for a city that wants to be known for the arts. Today is the last day. There's a free screening at 4 p.m., but the film's identity is secret, so go if you dare.
Wednesday night, an international scene went on at the Madstone ticket counter. An attractive, dark-haired woman was talking in Spanish into her cell phone. "Helas Pour Moi," she said, repeating the title of the movie, pronouncing "moi" as if it rhymed with "toy."
"Moi," her friend corrected her, pronouncing it "mwah."
Then the woman on the cell phone started spelling the title in Spanish.
I felt very first world going to another French movie; I'd rather have seen Marooned in Iraq at 7, but it didn't fit my schedule.
Tregenza, the festival's director and a University of Tampa professor, didn't look any worse for wear after presenting films - and presumably fixing more inevitable screw-ups - for six days. He introduced Helas Pour Moi, telling us that the film's director Jean Godard - apparently he's on a first and third name basis with the director known as Jean-Luc - is really very playful but about profound things, and we shouldn't try to understand the movie. I know I didn't, and I saw the movie.
In it, God or Zeus is played by Gerard Depardieu who also plays somebody else. It's full of puzzling scenes, obscure references I didn't understand and non sequiturs. This is probably one for the serious cinephiles.
When the film's credits started rolling and people were getting up to leave, Tregenza called out amiably, "It's not over." And called out again when it looked like it was over, "It's not over."
When it finally was over, no one moved.
"It's over," Tregenza called out.
- Sandra Thompson, a Tampa writer, can be reached at tampa@sptimes.com City Life appears on Saturday.
