VENICE DIARY 3. BOOOOOO!
VENICE – The 72nd Venice Film Festival is on the Lido in Italy and we’ve managed to infiltrate the Studio Exec onto the narrow island in order to bring you the biggest stories. So shut up, put that hot dog down and read.
In all my life as a studio exec I’ve met a whole series of assholes. And some of them weren’t relatives. But there is a type of asshole that has been getting my goat more than others recently. That’s the one who boos a film at a film festival. Don’t get me wrong I’ve often booed a film, or even better micturated in the direction of the screen – once at Cannes it was from the balcony (and I was in the Jury that year). But the time has come to stop.
You see I’m allowed to boo, because I get up in the morning and go and make films. I know what the hard work is like because I’ve done it myself, but these asshole critics haven’t. They have their reviews to write and they have their blogs to post, so they really don’t need to boo a screening with the director and the actors all sitting there in their Sunday best.
If I had my way booers would be taken to the Excelsior and ritually slapped with the scaliest fish in the kitchen. I’m betting it’ll be lobster.
What has raised my gall is the fact that the films booed this year have been among the best. The Childhood of a Leader and A Bigger Splash both got boos. Sometimes a lone voice will use the two second fade to black that often signals the end to shout out his (and it is always a he) abhorrence as if anyone could give a flying f*ck. I particularly hate that because it is a moment of sensitive reflection and some jumped up bozo of an arrogant shit for brains just stamped on it with his shit stained brain farts.
So behave. Learn some civility. Have some respect for the people who put in some hard words. And even if it is bad, remember the words of Billy Wilder, ‘Even if it’s a piece of shit, you still have to get up at some Goddamned awful hour in the morning to make it.’