ZANZIBAR INTERNATIONAL FILM FESTIVAL (part 3)

     
First of all, today is my birthday, so I'm in a particularly cheerful mood. Turning 30 does not, as some have said, make you start feeling like the Crypt Keeper. I think I have a good five years or so before that happens.

Yeah, I'm stoked about being a 30something. It's going to be my decade. I can feel it.

Anyway, here's part three of my ZIFF experience. Please note that at this point in the experience, my snark is really starting to come out. But I still had a blast.

And check back in sometime this week for the final wrap-up. In the meantime, I'm going to check my eyebrows for gray hairs.

ZANZIBAR INTERNATIONAL FILM FESTIVAL (part 1)

       
Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to my complete film festival experience. For those of you who don't know, I spent nine days watching literally dozens of films Clockwork Orange-style. My eyes are killing me, but I can't wait to share my experiences with all of you.
      
Here's a basically meanless teaser to tie you over:
        
I saw some good films and some bad films. I saw at least three films that desperately wanted me to cry. I saw a movie about Beyoncé that didn't include Beyoncé in it. I saw a cartoon about World War I and short films about clothes, salt, rock music, and brothers punching each other for the greater good. I saw lots of movies about race, and even more about women's right. I saw a movie with a magic doll in it, and another movie about lady soccer players.
      
Nine days, hundreds of hours, thirty films. It was an experience.