For the remake of “Ferris Bueller’s Day Off,” filmmaker Marissa Chastain did not have the money that the original production spent on replicas of stunt cars for the famous scene where parking lot officials take a 1961 Ferrari 250 GT California Spyder for a ride.
Having lost his job as a comedian and yoga instructor during the Covid-19 pandemic, the maximum that the 36-year-old Chicago resident’s budget allowed was a $ 9 remote control toy.
What she had were two roommates willing to be her co-directors and cast, access to the same Windy City locations as the original and a sense of humor. The latter proved to be the most important to secure one of the 11 finalist slots at the Swedish Film Festival for Creative Recreations.
“We have this desperation to create,” said Chastain. “The pandemic has definitely made that clear among the three of us, that no matter what happens, we are still here creating – even if there is no money behind it, it is something that moves us as humans.”
Now in its fourth year, the Swedish Film Festival for Creative Recreations is a celebration of homemade versions of film classics. Among the other short films shown that exchange CGI for tape and cardboard are the lovely recreations of “Air Force One”, “Die Hard” and “No Country for Old Men”. For this edition, the Pittsburgh-based festival has become national and virtual, both as a concession and as an opportunity born of the pandemic.
Even if this film festival doesn’t exactly carry the prestige of Cannes or Sundance, there is a serious cause behind these ridiculously cheap production values.
Half of the $ 3.99 ticket price for virtual screenings starting on February 12 will go to relief for participating independent cinemas devastated by Covid-19’s economic downturn.
“It’s about alleviating pent-up demand,” said Brian Mendelssohn, owner of Row House Cinema in Pittsburgh and founder of the festival. “The fact that we can’t really go to the movies, enjoy the cinema experience and love movies the way we traditionally love them – this is an outlet for people to enjoy movies, even though they can’t watch a movie at the cinema. “
Mendelssohn, whose theater was closed during the pandemic, had some success raising money for the cause last June with the Quarantine Cat Film Festival. This cat video show raised $ 75,000 for participating independent cinemas, he said, with the same 50-50 split as the outlet.
Every dollar now counts for these cinemas. Only 35.4 percent of the 6,037 cinemas in North America are currently open, according to Comscore, a media analyst.
Those who manage to keep the doors open are far from thriving. The studios have repeatedly increased big-budget films, which take viewers to theaters, either for later release dates (such as the Bond film “No Time to Die”) or straight to streaming (“Wonder Woman 1984”).
The domestic box office plunged 81% in annual returns from 2019 to 2020, reported the National Association of Theater Owners. Losses range from 70 to 100 percent, depending on location and state restrictions, a spokesman for the trade organization said in an e-mail.
The longer the pandemic continues, the greater the chance that many independent cinemas will not reopen.
“The owners of these independent cinemas have a deep love and affection for films, but not necessarily big pockets to withstand the devastating impact the pandemic has had on the industry,” said Paul Dergarabedian, senior box office analyst at Comscore. “They don’t have the kind of financial fundamentals that will allow them to be inactive for months on end.”
The first Swedish Film Festival was launched in 2016, two years after Mendelssohn opened Row House Cinema.
“When we opened a cinema in 2014, we showed mostly older films, and many of them had no trailers or the trailers were really out of date,” said Mendelssohn. “So we kind of made our own trailers after a while, just with the crew as actors.”
The inspiration came from Michel Gondry’s 2008 comedy “Be Kind Rewind”, starring Jack Black and Mos Def as video store salespeople forced to recreate movie scenes they accidentally deleted. The term “suecado” comes from a joke in the film, when customers are told that replacement VHS tapes are coming from Sweden.
“So, our audience kind of wanted to get in on the action,” added Mendelssohn, “so we decided to go ahead and run a small contest.”
A total of 17 cinemas in 13 states have registered to host this year’s Swedish Film Festival, although organizers expect the number to exceed 100 by February 12.
One of the participating theaters, the historic Lincoln Theater in Mount Vernon, Washington, is of great interest. The version of “Stop Making Sense” by manager Roger Gietzen is one of the finalists.
Shot with real instruments, the 3-minute, 45-second film is an ode to the 1984 concert film – only with cardboard cutouts with bulging eyes taking center stage, instead of the real Talking Heads.
“I don’t think we all got together as a team, except via Zoom in the 10 months before we shot the video [in December]”Said Gietzen.” So, everyone was thrilled. “
The clippings were part of an earlier fundraising initiative at the Lincoln Theater, in which customers sponsored cropped versions of themselves to sit in the audience during live shows filmed locally and screened virtually. With the theater closed since March 9, Gietzen and his team, many of whom were discharged earlier this month, need to be creative to have a chance to return.
Gietzen said that the Swedish Film Festival gate will not solve the theater’s financial problems on its own, but it has an equally important function.
“I hope the audience will see the joy that involved making these films,” said Gietzen. “To see how dedicated we all are.”