One evening last week I packed a bag with snacks and a beer and headed out into the night. I brushed what felt like 18 inches of snow off my car and slipped inside, headed downtown to the Big Sky Documentary Film Festival.
I arrived to find a packed lobby, everyone buzzing around talking about the film they’d just seen or the one they were about to see. When the doors to the theatre opened I walked the worn aisle of the Wilma Theatre, found a seat close to the front and got comfortable.
Read More »