Why should anyone bother seeking out independently produced films when Hollywood films, entertaining and exciting, are advertised and shown frequently at every franchised cinema in the country? If you're a UNH student, you can see the films the second time around at the MUB for two bucks. So why go indie?

I'm an X-Men and X-Men II fan, I like Russell Crowe, The Matrix, and occasionally I sit through one of Governor Arnold's flicks, but I find something particularly pleasing about films that are created without a marketing plan. Films produced by people or organizations other than MGM, Miramax, Warner Brothers, Universal, Paramount, and Sony Pictures, are independent films. They are also commonly grouped with films produced internationally. Independents are frequently less advertised, less conventionally pressured, and less censored. Unfortunately, they are also frequently less viewed. For these reasons, many independent films present unpalatable social critiques, unconventional narratives, and fresh variations in cinematic construction.

Few people want to pay to see Nicole Kidman playing a woman who is raped and exploited in a depressing and desolate landscape (Dogville), or a ten-year-old Afghani girl, bleeding and scared, sentenced to marriage under the oppressive rule of the Taliban (OSAMA), but stories like these are our reality. These stories are not ones you'd expect to catch in the next Jack Black movie. An independent film is a direct line to an artist; an artist who is willing to put herself on the line to tell a story inspired by passion. Like Hollywood films, Independent films can be disturbing, comedic, touching, or simply entertaining, but independents, devoid of corporate sponsorship and consequent censorship, tend to expose and critique our world and it's culture in a way that Hollywood can't. In some indie films, like your favorite multi million grossing action film, they blow things up. Not all independents are depressing social commentaries.

I recently attended the Telluride by the Sea film festival at the Music Hall in Portsmouth and learned more about the people and machinery that make it the leading venue for seacoast independent film viewing. Originally built in 1872, The Music Hall has been providing entertainment to greater Portsmouth and the seacoast for over 125 years. The institution, located at 28 Chestnut Street, just off of Congress Street in downtown Portsmouth, predates paved roads, automobiles, electricity, and the films it now screens. Thus, the various owners of the ancient building have had to adapt the facility to the changing technologies and tastes of the times.

Patrons, private donors, and the non-profit organization Friends of the Music Hall now financially maintains the building. Most recently in 2002, the staff sunk over $40,000 into sound and projection upgrades. These various supporters combine with the historical charm of the hall making it an inviting venue for independent films on the seacoast.

Some technical improvements include, a ten-channel Dolby Digital processor that feeds info to an impressive array of JBL speakers including huge subs located behind the screen. The system was designed by Eastern Cinema Supply and Service Co. Inc. to meet the specific requirements of the 900-seat opera style auditorium. In Kevin MacDonald's Touching the Void, I was blown away from 27,000-foot mountaintops in South America by the Music Hall's awesome sound system. Despite acoustic challenges faced by designers, viewers on the main floor of the auditorium are able to hear, with clarity, both explosive avalanches and quietly rustling leaves. The picture quality is just as impressive-provided by the recently overhauled twin projection units, and the large drop down screen.

Although it has proven a technically worthy place to catch regular season international and independent films, I found the Music Hall's "Telluride by the Sea" Festival to be a disappointment. The films, the projection, the sound, or the popcorn did not disappoint me: I was disappointed by the event's atmosphere. Surrounded by, pretentious, aristocratic, and overwhelmingly rude people, I sat through five of the six films included on my weekend pass.

This past summer I attended two film-screening festivals, the Cambridge Film Festival in England, and the Edinburgh Fringe Festival in Scotland. Perhaps the summer experience tainted my taste in festivals-you can't go from caviar to sardines and be impressed, but I have to say that however grand my expectations for the Telluride By the Sea may have been I could not have lowered them to a level that would have left me pleased with the atmosphere of the Portsmouth festival.

To begin, the Music Hall divided the general audience into 3 classes. Those who held passes to all the shows were designated weekend pass holders. "Patron" pass holders were those who held passes to all the shows and made an additional $100 donation to the organization. Those lowly and unfortunate few who held no passes and waited in line for available tickets were little more than "available ticket scum".

I felt privileged to be a weekend pass holder. That is, until I found myself on Congress Street, color-coded and shuffled into the secondary seating line. The first night I was fortunate to have stumbled into a nice conversation with a woman twice my age, but that was my last pleasant experience. I was shuffled in to the theatre where volunteers peddled $30 Telluride T's, I witnessed adults arguing as patron pass holders attempted to reserve seats for available ticket holders, and I was repeatedly asked to accommodate members of the patron pass holding class in lines and in the theatre. Overall, it was a far cry from the artist led discussions, unsegregated ticket sales, and friendly community feel of the Cambridge and Edinburgh festivals.

While at The Telluride By The Sea I got an idea for a great movie: a film festival, put on by bourgeoisie white guys for bourgeoisie white guys, that presented challenging social commentaries to viewers more interested in attending a prestigious "independent art film" festival and purchasing imported chocolate, espresso, and $30 T-shirts, than connecting with individuals interested in discussing the films and their social repercussions. Thankfully I have not had this same experience during any of the regular season screenings and therefore I don't take issue with urging you to attend upcoming films. Involve yourselves in this entertaining and valuable form of expression.

For a listing of future screenings go to http://www.themusichall.org or call the box office at (603) 436-2400. Also, be sure to look for post screening discussion groups as advertised by the hall. Hope to see you there.