A hopeful look was cast toward the Hawaii International Film Festival (or "Pacific Rim Festival," as it should be called), but as time went on, it became evident that no support was to be found in that direction.A million-dollar production studio is virtually unused. Local talents such as filmmakers Gregg Araki and Jon Moritsugu have been lost to the mainland, and they have scarcely looked back. What is this telling us?
It is, unfortunately, telling us that the patronage of film in Hawaii seems to exist solely in the hands of those who see film either as a business affair or as a proclamation of culture. There is little support for local filmmakers. Why should there be when there is no platform by which they can display their talents?
A hopeful look was cast toward the Hawaii International Film Festival (or "Pacific Rim Festival," as it should be called), but as time went on, it became evident that no support was to be found in that direction.
Although Hawaii's proudest annual event started as a free celebration of film, it has turned progressively elitist by catering mostly to those with money to buy memberships rewarded with tickets. (Does anyone else remember being locked out of "Shanghai Triad" last year?)
As with the empty studio that lies in wait for a big money production, HIFF has become a club for the privileged few who see Hawaiian film culture as something that should be formed according to national trends rather than local ones.
There's not much left in the wake of this corporate rubble, but there has to be a heart that beats there - a heart that diverges from the mainstream. Eventually, filmmaking is about film.
Editing, sound-synchronizing, genre, soundtrack and post-production can all be taught, but what about the love of film itself? Cinema has been an integral part of human culture for the past century, and it must be realized passion, creativity and love of cinema's history cannot be taught as easily as the technical aspects, if at all.
How sad it is, therefore, that the HIFF has become an example of corporate culture - with celebrities paraded in front of those who pay the bill - rather than an event geared toward the meeting of minds, including young people who might want to share in the glory of film's ideals.
So it is left up to individuals and their cameras. People with their own personal aesthetic, who can turn their visions into celluloid are the ones who will create a vital film industry in Hawaii, not big money studios and million-dollar budgets.
Organizations do exist to support local film, such as the Student Video and Film Association and the Film and Video Association of Hawaii, but where is the event that would inspire and welcome all to submit their works?
Salvation comes in the form of the Honolulu Underground Film Festival. Started by Marco Corrado and Chris Kahunahana, two filmmakers scorned; it is a breathless celebration of local film culture in Hawaii, and remains fiercely independent. This is the platform by which local film can come into being and proclaim itself as a palpable entity in Hawaii.