Those hoping to score seats for Love Means Zero early at Jesse Hall started appearing sparingly around 2 p.m. The waiting area at this time was quiet with only the faint voice conversations of the concessions staff. But by 4:10 p.m. roars with the conversation of those in line, both stranger and known.
A man in a black and white lighting costume that included a silver hair horned hat, a long black coat detailed with silver/white hairs that tightly holds a pillowcase with Christmas light features symbolizing a storm cloud; black tights with silver colored glitter outline the lighting coming out of the pillowcase cloud. It comes thundering through the silence with a contagious gleeful smile and a can-do spirit that could make the cloudy weather outside seem like sunshine.
This, however, is not long before a woman with crutches scurries along in weary of the long walk from Ninth Street to Jesse Hall. Taking rest on a nearby bench with a hefty book in her hand, she waits patiently for her moment to see the final movie of the festival she plans to see. While only temporarily on crutches she remains considerate and kind to fresh incoming movie-goers eager to take their momentary rest while waiting for the Queue to open up.
She offers her comfortable sprawled out body position on a bench to people she only communicates with a pleasant smile. Soon after the hordes of eager viewers come for the Queue lottery which is surprisingly run by none other than the lighting black coat silver horned monster who took the chance to meet the early queue line members.His enthusiasm and charm faithfully match his creative and well thought out outfit.
For some of these Queue line members, the 4:30 p.m. showing of Love Means Zero is their first; for others it’s their 11th. The line increases to a new found size. It’s no longer a line of strangers meeting strangers but rather old acquaintances reigniting conversations long retired. A college senior talks to his old friend’s parents whom he meets in the line. The conversation begins with how the school year has been and future hopes of a potential profession only to be cut off with the furry lighting black monster shifting the Queue line down.
When queue tickets are handed to people they fuse with the rest of the crowd of impatient festival goers until 20 minutes prior to showtime at which point the queue line comes back to fruition with people holding up their pink numbered queue tickets in order to compare with others finding their place in line that they left. The line goes in order of most excited to most worried as the queue line ticket reaches into the upper fifties making many wonders as to will there be enough left over seats for them?
Did you Q? What was your experience?