Ouch.
And True.
Service and Five Points.
Imagine Riverside Gator working the lemonade booth at the Global Climate Change Conference sponsored by the Committee for International Communism.
http://www.jacksonville.com/tu-online/stories/052008/enc_280637304.shtml
QuoteRather, the city's moviegoers could choose among investigative documentaries, original ideas, film with thought, international efforts, student projects, the freshest of the fresh, all screened at the gorgeous Florida Theatre, our beloved Times-Union Center, the enviable downtown library, and, um, Fuel.
For those who don't kick it in Five Points, Fuel "multi-room entertainment complex" is a self-proclaimed "thorn in the Jacksonville fabric since 1999." Owner Jim Webb's initial iteration was a dark and rough-edged coffeehouse, with bakery snacks, pool tables, video games plus Internet accessibility long before anyone was posting "Free WIFI" signs. The venue has hosted everything from concerts, beer pong tournaments and burlesque shows to poetry slams and church services.
Over the years, the coffee dripped dry, and beer took over. Fuel ceased keeping regular hours once business picked up at Webb's other venture, the neighboring Ragland's restaurant. Now the space is mostly an all-ages live music venue for punk-esque bands.
It was Jesse Rodriguez, new this year as executive director of the Jacksonville Film Festival, who saw potential in Fuel's bare-bones atmosphere as a film venue. Diversity is an important part of the festival spirit, and he thought Fuel could complement some of the more cutting-edge films - like the ones about illegal Japanese tattoos, Iranian sexual reassignment surgeries and the "therapy" people undergo in attempt to turn from gay to straight.
Rodriguez perhaps saw potential, but Fuel was disappointingly slow to realize it. I turned up to Fuel Friday for the documentary A Nashville State of Mind, the second film the venue showcased, and had such a poor experience I left early. Festival volunteers made me wait outside in the gross humidity while they let in guests with advance ticket purchases. The dude selling bottled beer and chips was clearly grumpy, not welcoming and did not let me trade in my not-even-approaching cold beer for another, stating they'd all be that way. The sound was the worst of it: way too loud no matter where you sat and so treble-heavy it made my ears ache.
Seating was a mix and match of old banquet chairs that squeaked to varying degrees, which may have been nice and padded in their heyday, but now were just miserable places to sit and try to enjoy a feature film. Try as they did to black out the windows, light peeped through cracks in the crushed velvet drapes, marring the screen image. I had planned to see two more pictures there over the weekend and scrapped those plans after my Friday mess.
Trouble continued into Saturday, and during Shorts of Epic Proportions, director Debs Gardner-Paterson's We Are All Rwandans, didn't air due to technical difficulties, and she had traveled from England to screen her film.
I checked in with Rodriguez Monday to hear what happened with the Fuel screenings. Trouble was, Webb was away for the weekend, and his mice, who didn't adequately anticipate the size and speed of the film festival express, failed him and moviegoers rather miserably. Rodriguez assured me conditions have improved since Webb's return, and filmmakers were happy with their Sunday screenings. The director of The Birthday (aforementioned Iranian sex change film) was so overwhelmed by response, she's arranging to send DVDs to her audience.
The quality will continue to be controlled for tonight's documentaries. At 6 p.m., catch 90 Miles, an exploration of Cuban music. Back-to-back screenings of Under the Skin, an extremely rare peek into the secret Japanese society of Tebori tattoo-by-hand artists (no gun!) start at 7:30.