Saturday, October 27th.
Directions: click here
It's that time of year again. Time to grab that special someone and cuddle up in the Mayor's driveway for a night of films. Bring a chair, a blanket, Y.O.B and dress warm.
Documentaries begin at 6:00.
6-7 Who is Boxo Texino?
7-8 Wild Wheels
8-9 Home Movie
9-10 Off the Record
10-? The worst Sasquatch films ever made.
Who is Bozo Texino? by Bill Daniel
Who is Bozo Texino? chronicles the search for the source of a ubiquitous and mythic rail graffiti-- a simple sketch of a character with an infinity-shaped hat and the scrawled moniker, "Bozo Texino"-- a drawing seen on railcars for over 80 years. Daniel's gritty black and white film uncovers a secret society and it's underground universe of hobo and railworker graffiti, and includes interviews with legendary boxcar artists, Coaltrain, Herby, Colossus of Roads, and The Rambler.
Wild Wheels by Harold Blank
This is a fascinating documentary about customized cars. I don't mean having flames painted on the side or those neon lights on the underside. Nope. We're talkin' full lawns growing on the cars, small multi-colored mirrors covering the chassis, and a number of other oddities that will make you seriously question the sanity of the cars' owners and the role of the automobile as a statement of individuality - in that order, as the film progresses. An excellent film.
Home Movie by Chris Smith
Chris Smith's documentary Home Movie offers several short portraits of real-life, far-out folks. This particular group of rule-breakers has in common the unusual dwellings they've chosen to call home. Meet the burly fellow with a Cajun accent living happily on a floating shack in Lousiana; the white-haired inventor in Illinois who's created a Jetsons-style electronic home; a Kansas couple who've turned a missile silo into a hippie haven; a California duo who give new meaning to the phrase Cat Fancy; and an aging cult film star who has retreated to a tree house in the jungles of Hawaii.
Off the Charts by Jamie Meltzer
For over 50 years, a small, strictly amateur music industry has thrived on the fine-print ads that appear in alternative newspapers and music-industry magazines, inviting would-be songsmiths to send in their lyrics (and perhaps even "earn royalties") when their songs--and we use that term loosely--are set to music, recorded by seasoned musicians, and returned to their creators as a kind of one-shot fantasy fulfillment of dreams that will never come true. What drives Meltzer's film is a uniquely American combination of pathos, fringe-dwelling ambition, and free expression by assorted misfits and "regular folk" who seek elusive immortality by turning their lyrical musings into trash-art that's simultaneously fascinating and pathetic. Off the Charts gives a memorable spin to the flipside of the American dream.