Doc/Fest through the lens, Part 2
by Ray Pride
In its third year under Festival Director Heather Croall (she of quiet banter and bold socks), Sheffield Doc/Fest was very much aware of both the pitfalls and possibilities for documentaries in coming months and years, even with statements like this from One Day in September producer John Battsek: "Most stories don't have the legs to get into cinema. And all of us make our films too long. Every second over 80 minutes you are pushing your luck."
But for five days (including wee hours nailbiting before Barack Obama's win was called), intelligent, informed optimism suffused almost every conversation and encounter. All in all, Sheffield has to be the tastiest buffet in the Yorkshires.

Journalist-programmer Agnes Varnum pauses with Jem Cohen and a young, fully bearded young filmmaker.

The festival's center, directly across from the rail station, incorporates gleaming new university spaces and the converted Showroom/Workstation space, which includes four screens, a café and bar, all of which should be the envy of cities encouraging the arts community. But a short distance away, double-decker buses and tramcars traverse a city that immediately suggests the industrial revolution past.
In its third year under Festival Director Heather Croall (she of quiet banter and bold socks), Sheffield Doc/Fest was very much aware of both the pitfalls and possibilities for documentaries in coming months and years, even with statements like this from One Day in September producer John Battsek: "Most stories don't have the legs to get into cinema. And all of us make our films too long. Every second over 80 minutes you are pushing your luck."
But for five days (including wee hours nailbiting before Barack Obama's win was called), intelligent, informed optimism suffused almost every conversation and encounter. All in all, Sheffield has to be the tastiest buffet in the Yorkshires.

Journalist-programmer Agnes Varnum pauses with Jem Cohen and a young, fully bearded young filmmaker.

The festival's center, directly across from the rail station, incorporates gleaming new university spaces and the converted Showroom/Workstation space, which includes four screens, a café and bar, all of which should be the envy of cities encouraging the arts community. But a short distance away, double-decker buses and tramcars traverse a city that immediately suggests the industrial revolution past.

Stone archways are among the spookier elements to the architecture. Sheffield is largely an old city, depressing in parts, moody in most.

The café and bar at the Showroom Cinema were crowded day and night. Hot buffet, dozens of brews, with intermittent showers of 3-D glasses.

Michael Jones is the film festival editor at Variety.com.













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