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It's not quite midnight, but it's close enough. "Blood Car" is stupid, cheap, disgusting, demented, and probably evil. Round the time a kindergartner took it in the face, I knew that we had reached a whole new level. It's every bit as fun as it sounds. Like the very best midnight movies, it's not exactly a cinematic treasure, but I wouldn't trade the experience for a handful of Oscar pics. Anna Chlumsky of "My Girl" fame' is the least of its offerings.

Those audience members who spent the day consuming more challenging fare couldn't have picked a better means of decompression.




' Am I the only person who remebers being traumatized by this movie? At least I saw "Blood Car" coming. As a ten year old who was already prone to depression, the death-by-a-thousand-bee-stings of young Macauley Culkin haunted me for days.

I haven't even seen a film yet.  I was chasing a deadline all day yesterday, missed my chance to hang with the guvnah at last night's gala, and drove into town this morning and straight to the Clinton Library to see the screenwriter's panel.  Arkansas indie hearthrobs Jeff Nichols, Ray McKinnon and Graham Gordy dropped knowledge in spurts, attended by a game Brendan Foley (The Riddle) and the old hand Steve Marshall ("WKRP in Cincinnati"(!)). Still, screenwriting will remain an unwieldy beast. I wasn't expecting Robert McKee.

The Charles B. Pierce/Harry Thomason conversation followed, and despite audience interaction, played out like something that might occur on a drowsy front porch in either the late evening or the very early morning.  At times, the talk was digressive to the point of incomprehensibility.  Endearingly, Pierce's lovely wife kept butting in with fragments of this story and that, though the conversation rarely stayed on track. 

Thomason occasionally managed to reign it in enough for us to hear about his childhood friend's knee-high cashflow, two ferraris, erstwhile frog-training skills, and honest-to-God belief in the Fouke monster. (Choice quote: "I saw it run so fast that its hair stood on end and trailed off behind it.") We also got a chance to hear a little about Clint Eastwood and the Arkansas origins of one of the most famous quotes in cinematic history.  Apparently, Dirty Harry's catchphrase was a favorite threat of Pierce's grandfather.

After the talk, a beaming Brent Renaud presented Pierce with a lifetime achievement award and revealed that from now on the prize for best in festival from the Arkansas Program would be called the Charles B. Pierce Award.  I can think of no greater way to honor a man who created so much from so little. 

Up next: The results of the music video competition and Blood Car.

ARKANSAS MUSIC VIDEO COMPETITION
7:30 p.m., Revolution. $10.

In conjunction with the Little Rock Film Festival, the Arkansas Music Video Competition gives top billing to the local music scene's latest obsession — locally made music videos. From 16 or so entrants, the field has been narrowed down to four (full disclosure: I was a judge). These got the most votes: Epiphany's “Can't Tell,” the Moving Front's “Zombies,” Ace Spade and the Whores of Babylon's “Ice Crystals” and Bryan Frazier's “Unwise.” A smidge of background: Epiphany's video was shot entirely in Rumba-Revolution, where the finals will be held. There are zombies in the Moving Front's “Zombies.” Ace Spade and the Whores of Babylon cook meth in a trailer B-movie-style in “Ice Crystals,” and Bryan Frazier is possibly a ghost in his video. A cocktail reception opens the evening, followed by a screening of the videos and an awards ceremony at 8:30 p.m. The finalists will then all perform short sets. Plus, a boon to any local show, rapper 607 performs, and in the headlining slot, Technosquid Eats Parliament, the long defunct Little Rock-based power pop band, reunites for a special appearance.

Previously: Arkansas videos

BUZZ-B-Q
11 a.m., North Shore Riverwalk. $5 (free for children under 12).

Now in its fourth year, Buzz-B-Q pairs together the key ingredients of any good party: barbecue and live music. On the barbecue side of things, contestants in two divisions — Pro Joe and Average Joe — will start cooking bright and early. Hosted by 103.7 "The Buzz" and benefiting the North Little Rock Firefighters Local 35 Fallen Firefighters Memorial Fund, the event opens to the public at 11 a.m. and as the meat gets done, most contestants will be offering up free samples. Some $5,000 cash and prizes will be up for grabs in the Pro Joe division, where the judging will be somewhat rigorous. All the Buzz dudes—Tommy Smith, David Bazzel, Justin Acri, Pat Bradley and Joe Franklin will be on hand to host and emcee the event. For kids, there'll be a a Family Fun Zone with a rock climbing wall, super slide, obstacle course, the Twisters Football Toss, 3D miniature golf and a hunting simulator. Plus, for grown folks, age 21 and up, the "Buzzeritaville" area features T's Tunes karaoke, pool tables, TVs to watch the Preakness and Stinky Gringo margaritas.

The Little Rock Film Festival's Gala was typically Arkansas, if only because a whole slew of folks ignored the words "semi-formal" on the promotional material. 

Wearing everything from carpenter shorts to ball gowns, roughly 200 film buffs, Arkansas-connected industry insiders, and local celebrities joined television and film producer Harry Thomason and Governor Mike Beebe at the Clinton Center's Grand Ballroom Friday night for the festival's otherwise swanky fundraising event.  

Optimism for the future of Arkansas's film industry seems to be an underlying festival theme.   Judge Reinhold touched on the topic at his introduction to " Fast Times at Ridgemont High" Tuesday night. He will host a panel titled "Keep it Natural! Building a Film Industry in Arkansas," Sunday at noon at the Little Rock Chamber of Commerce.