And, frankly, we do give a damn

Notes from the opening-night gala of SIFF 2005:

The people who take the stage of this, the 31st festival, keep calling it the “31st annual” festival. No. As former festival director Darryl Macdonald once stressed to me in an interview, at least one year went by in the 1980s in which a festival didn’t happen. And so, the modifier “annual” doesn’t fit.

As in years past, the Seattle mayor, Greg Nickels , takes the stage to brag about the festival, and about the city, and to thank everyone for coming and contributing money, etc., etc. And not for the first time am I reminded that politicians don’t talk like real people. They always talk as if they’re running for office. And Nickels is no different. But then I’m from Spokane. I shouldn’t be talking about other cities’ mayors.

Second-year festival director Helen Loveridge explains why two of the past venues, the Pacific Place and Cinerama, opted out for this year. “Hmmmmmm,” she says, “ ‘Star Wars.’ ” Then, after a pause, she adds, heavy with irony, “I wish them well.”

Loveridge also points out that the opening-night film, Miranda July ’s “Me and You and Everyone We Know”: It’s the first time in the festival’s history that a woman director’s film has opened SIFF.

Not that we get to the film quickly. After the speakers, for of them including Loveridge and July, the film doesn’t start until 8:20 p.m. – even though the house lights had gone down at 7:30. Some European wars have felt shorter. When they do finish, though, we watch July’s movie – and it turns out to be one of the best opening-night films I’ve ever seen.

At the after-screening party, which takes place in the old Seattle Public Library, the crowd stands in line – as usual – for food and drink. This time, however, old films such as “Nosferatu” and a “Godzilla” movie and something that looks like a Charlie Chan movie, play on the walls. And on a stage on one side of the room, the Posies play their brand of pop/rock/country music.

And so the first night is over. But that’s not hardly a bad thing. For as Scarlett O’Hara has been saying since 1939, “Tomorrow is another day.”