Philadelphia Weekly

D Tour


Ben Gibbard, Nada Surf, John Vanderslice, Ryan Miller, the Moore Brothers—they all came together for a benefit for Pat Spurgeon, Rogue Wave’s drummer, who needed a kidney. The music—if you like Death Cab for Cutie and similarly inclined indie rock—is great, but this film about Spurgeon’s search for a donor is powerful even without the soundtrack. Spurgeon himself is a great anchor: With a wild afro and a sweet, genuine demeanor, you’ll root for him to be well, and root for the people around him—all funny and engaging—to find their place in his life. Most important, the film makes an urgent plea for organ donation. If you don’t have a sticker on your driver’s license now, you’ll have one after you see this film. (Liz Spikol) 


Don’t Know, We’ll See: The Work of Karen Karnes


Filled with shots of water pouring off rocks against Bach and the like, Lucy Massie Phenix’s film offers an intimate and gentle portrait of acclaimed clay artist Karen Karnes. Now 82, her wrinkled, hued skin is often the same color as her art; during the many loving shots of her working, you nearly can’t tell what’s the clay and what’s her hands. No mere 101 on Karnes, Don’t Know portrays her as a dying breed: a cloistered artist who lives for nothing else but her art. (Matt Prigge)


I Love My Bicycle: The Story of FBM Bikes


If you’re into BMX, you already know what FBM is: the bike company that was founded by riders as a sort of fuck-you to the mainstream bike industry. Think of this film—by Temple grad and area resident Joe Stakun—as the BMX Dogtown and Z-Boys with more cursing and less polish. If you always watch the X Games, you’ll like Bicycle . (L.S.) 


I Cannot Be Silent


Director Vic Compher tries to address the violence that plagues Philadelphia by seeking lessons from the past: He finds elderly activists—men and women who marched for civil rights, peace and economic opportunity—and asks them to tell their stories. The results can be poignant: When Henri Parens, a concentration camp survivor, speaks to a young African-American woman who survived a fight that shattered her jaw, he seems touched and bewildered. After a lifetime of working for peace, the endurance of brutality must be heartbreaking. Maybe the next generation will get it right. (Joel Mathis) 


Mellodrama


Director Dianna Dilworth thoroughly portrays the rise and fall and inevitable 
re-rise of the Mellotron, the eerie-sounding electro-keyboard that was
the first to reproduce sampled sounds. Intended for Lawrence Welk types, it became a fad via the likes of King Crimson, the Beatles and the Moody Blues, only to fall off thanks to bad business practices and the ’tron’s fragile build. A surprisingly fascinating but standard-issue primer, Mellodrama does occasionally go deeper: 
Using the example of the instrument’s comeback in the ’90s, Dilworth shows how 
trends can quickly curdle into cliches. (M.P.) 


Momz Hot Rocks


This film documents the trials and tribulations of small-time rock bands composed entirely of women who happen to be moms. Momz Hot Rocks shows how this particular generation of women (now in their 40s) are mediating the identities of “mom” and “rocker” and shifting them at the same time. It’s best viewed while keeping in mind that male musicians have historically enjoyed the freedom of being as punk-rock as they want to be without the question of whether they’ve had a child being relevant. The documentary brings to light some juicy feminist questions about autonomy, female archetypes, generational differences and deeper cultural values and assumptions. Or, failing that, it features a few MILFs. (Becca Trabin) 


No Family History


Directed by UPenn research fellow Dr. Sabrina McCormick, this short doc on today’s breast cancer research is, if anything, too short and has all the aesthetics of an educational video you’d rent for free from Blockbuster. But it makes a compelling case in showing how certain cosmetics have infected its patrons. (One company put out a lipstick for cancer patients ... which itself contained cancer-causing carcinogens.) And it has Robin Caslenova, a sufferer who’s frank and funny and very much deserving of a longer, more focused documentary of her own. (M.P.)


Seasons in the Valley


Adam Matalon’s documentary about the relationship between white apple farmers and Jamaican pickers who work their farms touches on a lot of issues, including immigration, racism, agriculture and the global economy. But it does so by sort of dancing around, which Matalon says is intentional, and in fact why he relies on his score so heavily. The music can really get in the way, but if you ignore that and Elliott Gould’s awkward narration, there’s a lot to be learned from the numerous 
Jamaican men interviewed here. (L.S.) 


Shooting Beauty


Photographer Courtney Bent never imagined she’d get completely caught up in the lives of her students at a United Cerebral Palsy program in Watertown, Mass. She started out just taking photos of them, but quickly realized her photos told a story filtered through sadness and stereotype. So she gave cameras to the people who live with disability every day and asked them to chronicle their lives. The result is this mixed-bag film, which drags a little in its second half but is—unsurprisingly—moving and heart-warming. (L.S.) 


Sounds Good to Me: The Making of College a Capella


Everything you never wanted to know about a capella but didn’t think you should ask. Even in our post- High School Musical world, a room full of guys making U2 from scratch feels like the fringe of the craze. But Paul Marcus’ doc doesn’t contextualize its popularity, just explains and explains and explains how it works. How is an all-guy group different from an all-girl? Or a co-ed group? And is it better recorded or live? It’s more interesting than you’d think, but not as interesting as its filmmakers think. (M.P.) 


Song of Ourselves


If you’ve never heard of ’60s-era folksinger Chris Iijima, it may be because of the very things Iijima sang about—the alienation of Asian-Americans in the U.S. Iijima’s message was essential during Vietnam, when people who looked like him were consigned either to victim or villain roles. Iijima and the community of Asian-Americans who rallied to get their message out using visual art and music created a revolutionary movement. This short doc makes good use of stylized visual effects, and feels like the perfect way to pay tribute to a man who had such an incredible impact on his people. (L.S.) 


Strawberry Fields: Keeping the Spirit of John Lennon Alive


An early title card: “The Beatles are far and away the world’s largest selling artists.” Gee, really? And things only get worse from there. The latest shill for the cliche of Lennon as a fuzzy peacemaker, this risible “doc” marries a basic 101 on his life to rambling fan testimonials, baseless conspiracy theories on his murder and, as the only (only!) significant talking head, convicted murderer Phil Spector. A sequence dryly recounting his death against photos of his later years is genuinely stirring, but it’s too little way, way too late. (M.P.) ■

Thurs., June 25-Sun., June 28. For venues and showtimes, go to philadelphiaindependentfilm
festival.com