And the winners are …

Kudos to Sam Green’s “Lot 63, Grave C,” which won the Sterling Award for best short. And big-time props to Yoni Brook’s “A Son’s Sacrifice,” voted by audiences as the best short in town.

Both flicks were freakin’ awesome!

Hit the AFI SilverDocs website for a full list of winners in all categories.

Short-attention-span theater, day 3

Sunday morning’s shorts were clumped as stories about faith, but not all of them addressed religion directly.

A Son’s Sacrifice

Don’t let this flick’s austere title scare you. It’s got all the right elements — humor, love, blood — and documents the rift between first-generation immigrant Americans and their US-born kids.

The Penguin scores another freebie!

I had all intentions of paying $10 in loose change for Sunday morning’s short program. But by the time I’d reached the theater, the show was already sold out. So I went for the standby option.

While waiting outside on the standby line, another moviegoer and I began to chat about the flicks we’d seen. Her fave: “Enemies of Happiness,” a feature on the first woman elected to Afghanistan’s parliament. She also dug the feature “A Walk Into the Sea,” about a dude from Andy Warhol’s inner circle and his unsolved disappearance.

After half an hour, the standby line was allowed into the theater vestibule. As I reached into my pocket for pennies and nickels, my fellow moviegoer handed me a piece of paper the size of a baseball card.

“Would you like this voucher? It’ll get you in for free,” she offered.

Are you sure you don’t need it? I said.

“It’s okay, I’ve got more,” she insisted.

So this post, and the upcoming review of the shorts, are courtesy of the kind woman who handed me the voucher.

Thanks, lady, whoever you are!

Spending some “me” time

My coverage of Friday’s outdoor screening was canceled due to a skull-shattering headache. (You didn’t think I could stare at a computer screen for 16 hours straight and not pay a price, did you?)

So I’m guessing this is how “Neil Young: Heart of Gold” went down:

• Young sang “Old Man” and possibly “Long May You Run.”
• Director Jonathan Demme gave the viewer that on-stage intimacy only he can deliver.
• One could almost feel the plaid.

If anyone attended the free screening and would like to share their impressions, holler back.

Big brother, watching

After Friday’s screening of “Freeheld”, I spoke with Charles Hester, whose sister Laurel was the subject of the short movie. It was the first time he’d seen the flick, filmed during Laurel’s last weeks of life before succumbing to lung cancer a year ago.

Short-attention-span theater, day 2

Friday’s free nooner at AFI showed two shades of gay/lesbian life: one in the closet, the other in the spotlight.

Monsieur Borges and I

Here’s the straight dope: I missed the first 10 minutes of this 23-minute film. My loss, because the remainder was strangely hypnotic.

An older French man (I’ll call him Buddy) talks about his friendship with the late author Jorge Luis Borges. Their artistic collaborations were passionate and sensual, and they shared a very deep friendship.

But were they gay?

The next Mary Hart?

On Wednesday, I emailed local big wigs for their impressions of Tuesday night’s opening gala, held at Discovery Communications. Susan Hoffmann, special-events manager with the Silver Spring Regional Center, today emailed this reply:

They’re here. They’re queer. Pass the popcorn.

This afternoon’s agenda includes another free (yippee!) lunchtime screening of shorts. Today’s theme: Gay rights.

And tonight, another free outdoor screening drops on Ellsworth Drive: Jonathan Demme’s “Neil Young: Heart of Gold.” Bring your own plaid workshirts.

Sick! Sick! Sick!

Damn, I’d almost forgotten how freakin’ cool the Talking Heads were.

The oversized gray suits. The bad-ass rhythm section. These mofos combined punk attitude, phat beats, and Warhol weirdness to become one of the few truly original things to come out of the 1980s. (Not to take anything away from A-Ha.)

So of course I jumped at the opportunity to catch a free screening of their concert film, “Stop Making Sense,” on Ellsworth Drive. Talking Heads? Free? Perfect.

Short-attention-span theater

This afternoon’s AFI freebie was all about ass kicking: who’s doling it out, who’s been on the receiving end, and the collateral damage that comes with it.

War Torn: Stories of Separation

An interesting yet predictable flick, this 20-minute British joint is a slide show (literally) of families whose sons or husbands have fought in Iraq. Anxious mothers provide narrative voiceovers that stitch together banal photos of home.

Enter the Penguin

Alas, the press-pass bitching ends! I finally made it into the AFI Silver Theatre for a free nooner.

This was my first forray into the place, and I was stunned by the auditorium’s gaping size. The room seemed to swallow the audience, and rows of seats stretched endlessly. It was like watching a movie inside the Grand Canyon.

Even the screen seemed too small and nearly square, like a television. However, this may have been intentional. This afternoon’s flicks were 5- to 10-minute shorts shot with 35-mm or digital video cameras. No wide screen necessary.

I’ll hit you with details of the short flicks a little later.

Revenge is a dish best served with raw onions

At last, I get to report something from inside the AFI! At noon, I hit the lunchtime freebie, a collection of short pieces with a shared theme. Today’s deal: the Iraq War.

Of course, infiltration of the theater also gives me the opportunity to deliver a dose of revenge. Here’s the game plan:

• I’m packing my own candy. The AFI can take those $5 Junior Mints at the concession stand and shove it.
• I’m also packing a sandwich, maybe curried tuna on an onion roll. Something with an odor that will linger inside that auditorium for days.
• My cell phone’s ringer will be set at super-high volume. I’ll also program it to play “The Star-Spangled Banner” so that each time it rings, everyone in the theater will feel obligated to stand at attention.

The AFI will feel, smell and hear my wrath!

Plotting my revenge

If I had a ton of money (which I don’t), I would run a film festival to compete directly with SilverDocs. I would call it:

SilverMocs
Miscellaneous mockumentaries from downtown Silver Spring

I’m thinking three days of flicks so real, you won’t believe they’re fake. So far, the imaginary lineup includes:

It’s hard out here for a pimp

So I’m having lunch at the local Burmese restaurant with Valerie Ervin and Ben Stutz, the councilmember’s right-hand man, when he says:

“I can’t believe AFI didn’t give you a press pass! I mean, SilverDocs is a festival for small, independent films. Yet they won’t recognize the small, independent press.”

Raindrops keep fallin’ on my head

This afternoon’s curbside coverage of SilverDocs has been postponed due to inclement weather.

Also, I will attempt to title all SilverBlog posts with the names of Academy Award-winning songs. Give yourself two points if you know which movie used “Raindrops Keep Fallin’ On My Head” as its title song.

Score a five-point bonus if you can name the dude who sang it. Ten bonus points if you can name its composer.

The show must go on

Alas, AFI has put the kibosh on any dream of unfettered SilverDocs access. Their last (and probably final) email read:

We are still unable to accredit you for this year’s festival. We recognize the importance of local coverage — your web site looks great — and we hope you will of course attend and write about the festival.

Attend the festival at $10 per flick? I suppose I could put off some restaurant reviews. Or go without health insurance for another month. Whatever.

Write about the festival? I guess it’s my journalistic obligation. But if that sidewalk is hot or if it rains, I am gonna be pissed.

The documentary-film gods mock me

Screw tonight’s curbside coverage. It’s raining, I’m hungry and I still don’t have a press pass.

For now, let’s just assume that

• The AFI crowd is beautiful and damp
• The movie is a cinematic tour de force (whatever that means)
• The food at Discovery’s after-party sucks (or doesn’t suck)
• The drinks are watered down
• I am warm, dry and noshing on a tuna sandwich

Let’s see a press pass bring on that degree of self-satisfaction!

Reporting from outside the AFI Theatre

I got the email from AFI last night:

Thanks so much for your interest in SilverDocs. Unfortunately, the press office only accredits press from a recognized outlet.

Nonetheless, I would encourage you to attend. Perhaps you can even wrangle some filmmakers for an interview.

So The Penguin isn’t the New York Times or the Washington Post. That doesn’t make its content — or its readers — less legitimate. So I wrote back: