08/07/2006

Beginning with believing

BY BOB DARROW
Local columnist

Michael Moore is running late. It's half-past noon and he still has to squeeze in lunch with a group of guest filmmakers before introducing a movie at 1.

He's trapped in a hallway at the City Opera House, hands tapping him on each shoulder, questions flying from every direction. There are logistics to be coordinated, star-struck fans to be placated, notepad-wielding reporters to be dealt with.

And in the doorway stands a young blonde-haired girl, dressed in the buckles and rags of the anti-establishment. I'm a film student, she tells Moore, but I don't know how to get started. I'm wondering if I've made a mistake. On the verge of tears, she asks, is there anything you can do to help me?

No, I can't help you, he says. But you can help yourself.

So Moore stops for a solid five minutes to give this semi-hysterical girl a pep talk.

He says forget about all these other people in the room and listen to me, and looks her directly in the eye. It took me 15 years to get a movie made, he says, you can't let them get the best of you.

Need a camera? Here, you can have one of mine. What's your address? I'll send you a camera. You just have to promise me you're going to make a movie.

Moore doesn't want anyone publicizing the exchange, and turns around to tell us journalists so. I hope he'll forgive me, because I need this little anecdote to make a point.

Last week I saw a lot of strange things in downtown Traverse City, whether it was an audience erupting in feverish applause for a polite little Italian woman who could hardly find the English words to thank them, or lines of people stretching down Front Street and around the block to see a movie. It has been, in turns, interesting and inspiring.

Michael Moore deserves a lot of credit, but not because he lobbied and sweated and did everything short of tear tickets, park cars and sweep floors to make this festival happen. Not because he convinced a handful of Hollywood folks to spend the week in northern Michigan.

It wasn't the economic impact on downtown merchants or even just great movies that made this festival work.

The most important thing Michael Moore did for Traverse City was believe in the town. He bet there were people in this city who wanted to think about big ideas, who wanted to be challenged by their art. He bet he could sell tickets to movies with subtitles. He bet that the people of Traverse City would not only accept this festival; they would embrace it as their own.

Doug Stanton, John Williams and the host of volunteers who tore tickets, parked cars and swept floors deserve a lot of credit, too. They were the first people who stepped up and said, yeah, this sounds like something we can pull off. This sounds like something we can do in Traverse City.

Turns out that kind of thinking is contagious.

Let me quote from the Record-Eagle's Film Festival blogger, Beth Milligan (http://blogs.record-eagle.com), who wrote last week about a "shared feeling of community goodwill and excitement that exists right now in the city." I doubt she's the only one who felt that way.

And "excitement" is the right word. I saw a lot of excited people in Traverse City last week. Excited about flicks no one will ever talk about on "Entertainment Tonight." Excited about the drive-in atmosphere under the stars at the Open Space. Excited about what was happening in their town.

It's amazing what can happen when people start believing, and investing in an idea. That's how we start to make the changes we want to see in our town, our country, our world — by believing that what we think matters, that we can be part of something meaningful.

Wonder what that film student is going to do with Mike's camera.

Bob Darrow, a senior majoring in professional writing at Michigan State University, is a Record-Eagle newsroom summer intern. He was part of the Record-Eagle team covering the Traverse City Film Festival.