Fast Forward
This piece is getting too long. My second festival was in Stuttgart. This was really the “satori” for me in animation. No suit this time, but did fly to Charles de Gaulle again. Had to spend nine hours there waiting for the two-hour or so flight to Stuttgart. Ended up dazing on a bench and missing the flight… so make it three more hours. Finally got to Stuttgart and passed out on the bed, exhausted.

Next night I hooked up with Jayne Pilling. We were chatting away when this freaky looking guy with shaggy hair, big glasses and a black leather coat took a seat with us. This was Gerben Schermer from the Holland Festival. I’d like to say that we hit it off immediately, but we were so pissed that I can’t recall much… except that we sat around talking all night and then the three of us headed back to my room at the Maritim (the best festival hotel!) and drank some whisky. I passed out and spent the next 24 hours in my room trying to recover.

Okay… maybe this wasn’t the worst… but since I was in a foreign country… this hangover seemed like the worst. Oh God… I remember twisting, turning and vomiting … watching Jackie Chan films in German on TV… and then FINALLY venturing outdoors at about 1:00 am where I got a bit of whatever program was on.

Things got much better. Met some Brits (Ruth Lingford, I think) and a real sweet Scottish girl. Ended up palling around with her all week. Met Peter Dougherty, the New York-born MTV Europe creative director. Acidic sense of humor. Right up my alley. But beyond that… I remember one competition screening above all others. This was the year of Hilary by Anthony Hodgson, a film I loved so much (it ended up getting three awards in Ottawa)… and a crazy film by some Estonian guy. My Scottish pal and I took seats in the balcony so we could drink our beers in peace.

The Estonian film was first, I think. Man… I just remember being jolted out of whatever the moment that film started. Until I saw Ring of Fire and Son of Satan, it was really my big “satori” in animation… I had NO idea what the film was about… it was just loaded with cinema references… a sarcastic British narrator… and really sloppy drawings. It was so smart, alive, funny and unpretentious. I had never seen anything like this film… and was just in stunned silence the whole time. Oh man… this was life… I just felt so good about life… I wanted to embrace people. I was buzzing with energy. This is what animation could be!! It didn’t have to be so damn cute… or so cartoony… and perfectly drawn… of course… being a film studies major…

I felt some comfort in the film… it was about, sort of, the history of cinema… there were references to Bergman, Godard, Truffaut… I really had no idea what the film was REALLY about (not sure I do fully grasp it today)… but whatever it was, it lured me right smack into animation… it gave me a home in a sense… a connection… I found my center.

After the screening I saw Otto. I excitedly asked him about this film. He asked if I’d like to meet the filmmakers. Holy shit… yeah... that would be great. Later that night… or maybe the next night… we went to their room. They were these older guys, dressed in shirts from the film… they were just sitting around having some vodka or whatever hard liquor. They invited us in… I was introduced, “Chris, this is Priit Parn and Janno Poldma.” I’m sure I was like a kid meeting a hockey star. “I loved your film. I have no idea what it was about, but I just loved it. It was funny and smart and just great…” Parn said thanks… and offered a drink. Before I left…. Parn, like a hockey player giving a boy an autographed pictures or free tickets, gave me a cel from the film. Oh man… that was amazing. I still have that cel of Jean Paul on the walls.

Funny… during the closing ceremonies I remember seeing this young man with flowers in his hair collecting the best student film award. He struck me as a bit arrogant. Only later did I realize that this was Andreas Hykade who had won for a film I didn’t see then, We Lived in Grass. Two years later that film would finally grab my soul.

The night after the festival ended, oTTo, Priit and Janno and I went to dinner at a small German restaurant. It was, even now, the most memorable dinner I’ve had. The place (which no longer exists) was locally owned. We had, Christ, about 4-5 courses… and the rule was that you had to finish everything off your plate. Meantime… we kept drinking something or other — real sweet, delicious, dangerous stuff. We laughed so much that night. I was finally learning to relax a little and be myself (whoever that was)… that was the night I earned a nickname that sticks today.

This strange older guy who worked at the restaurant part time kept sitting with us and pouring us drinks… at one point he called me “Sepp.” No idea why. But the name stuck until this day oTTo and the Estonians call me Sepp. When Jarvis was born in 1998, it became Papa Sepp (if you look at the end credits to Parn’s film The Night of the Carrots, you’ll see a “Papa Sepp” in there).

For years I really had no idea what the name meant. Sepp in Estonian is like Smith… maybe Blacksmith.

Oh, and the film was called 1895.

What’s it about really?

A guy trying to figure out who he is and what he’s supposed to be doing with his life. (Reminds me… yes... when I program the OIAF, I pick films that I think are worthy… but it’s also clearly subjective… and there are pieces that will undeniably reflect my life/concerns of that moment.)

My almost brotherly relationship with Gerben Schermer was born there and my long, long road down the path of Estonia started in that Stuttgart balcony.

That year in Stuttgart was when I, literally, entered the tent (I say literally because Stuttgart does have a tent!). Everything clicked. So many relationships that are important to me today (Pilling, Alder, Dougherty, Lingford, Schermer, Parn, Poldma, Hykade) all have some link to Stuttgart ‘96. I left Stuttgart with confidence. I could run the festival.

The downside? It was also the period that elevated my drinking habit. I was like a kid at camp. We had fun everyday. There were films to watch, people to meet, sights to see. I was actually sad to leave Stuttgart. One of the only times I remember feeling that way after a festival. I didn’t want the feelings to end. I wanted everyday to be like the festival. So when I got home I started drinking more. For the next four years I became increasingly lost in the festival, in animation, in booze.

Last fall, when I was staying with Hykade, I asked him about the name. He told me it was like “Joe’ but usually used to describe sort of a dim guy.

Ha, I was the village idiot.

Chris Robinson is little more than a man. In his spare time he cares for the elderly. www.animationpimp.com.