foray into film
Today is the day of the 78th Annual Academy Awards presentation. The Oscars! in all their hyped, magnificent, overwrought glory.
Over a week ago, I made my own little trip into the aura of the cinematic by volunteering at the Canadian Film Centre's annual fundraising gala. All I had to do was show up wearing basic black and comfortable shoes, and sell raffle tickets for a couple of hours to the powerbrokers and their affiliates, as they sat in their $400 seats dining on fine food prepared by master Cuban chefs.
There was even a red carpet -- and a photographer. The tables, lit by candles hanging from centrepiece palms, dazzled. The men, in their dress tuxedos, were urbane. There did not seem to be as many women as men, and they did not shine as much as their male counterparts, sure with their Cuban cigars and credit cards at the ready.
Hundreds of items at the silent auction, with bids ranging from the low hundreds to the thousands and thousands of dollars. At the live auction, bids of $10,500 for a shopping spree at Holt Renfrew, $18,000 for a trip for two to Paris, $250 for a magnum of champagne. The raffle tickets were a good deal at $40 a piece or three for $100, on three chances for custom-made jewellery.
The end result of cinema I understand; the finances behind it, making it possible are more difficult to comprehend. Not only the finances behind cinema, but the finances that make our society and economy prosper, are a foreign world to me. Seeing such apparent financial freedom is a culture shock, yet surely it is how the world turns.
This week I signed on to volunteer with the Toronto International Film Festival Group. I've never attended any of the TIFF festivities in the past as I've been busy with school. Now, I can get involved with them from the inside.
First on the agenda, the children's film festival in April, called Sprockets. Tonight, sitting down to watch the Hollywood glamour of the marketing of the stories told in celluloid.
And, my predominant impression of the gala? Unfortunately, that of swollen, sore feet from not taking the 'comfortable shoes' memo to heart.
Over a week ago, I made my own little trip into the aura of the cinematic by volunteering at the Canadian Film Centre's annual fundraising gala. All I had to do was show up wearing basic black and comfortable shoes, and sell raffle tickets for a couple of hours to the powerbrokers and their affiliates, as they sat in their $400 seats dining on fine food prepared by master Cuban chefs.
There was even a red carpet -- and a photographer. The tables, lit by candles hanging from centrepiece palms, dazzled. The men, in their dress tuxedos, were urbane. There did not seem to be as many women as men, and they did not shine as much as their male counterparts, sure with their Cuban cigars and credit cards at the ready.
Hundreds of items at the silent auction, with bids ranging from the low hundreds to the thousands and thousands of dollars. At the live auction, bids of $10,500 for a shopping spree at Holt Renfrew, $18,000 for a trip for two to Paris, $250 for a magnum of champagne. The raffle tickets were a good deal at $40 a piece or three for $100, on three chances for custom-made jewellery.
The end result of cinema I understand; the finances behind it, making it possible are more difficult to comprehend. Not only the finances behind cinema, but the finances that make our society and economy prosper, are a foreign world to me. Seeing such apparent financial freedom is a culture shock, yet surely it is how the world turns.
This week I signed on to volunteer with the Toronto International Film Festival Group. I've never attended any of the TIFF festivities in the past as I've been busy with school. Now, I can get involved with them from the inside.
First on the agenda, the children's film festival in April, called Sprockets. Tonight, sitting down to watch the Hollywood glamour of the marketing of the stories told in celluloid.
And, my predominant impression of the gala? Unfortunately, that of swollen, sore feet from not taking the 'comfortable shoes' memo to heart.
posted by Kathy O'Brien at 1:21 pm
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