The LA Film Festival came and went in a flash, leaving behind the faint flicker of some memorable Indie films that (hopefully) get seen again on cable channels like IFC. One of these films was "I'll come Running," written and directed by Spencer Parsons. The film is a poignant example of one my favorite axioms in life, penned by the late great John Lennon: life is what happens to you when you're busy making other plans. In the case of the film, a casual one-night stand has life-changing consequences for two young people. Pelle is a young Danish man at his wits end while backpacking through Texas (hey, who can blame him?) and Veronica (Melonie Diaz) is a young pretty American waitress working at a Mexican restaurant. The two meet at the restaurant during what's supposed to be Pelle's last night in town. Veronica is sassy and playfully challenges Pelle's air of superiority. They connect through their shared knowledge of "The Simpsons." Pretty deep connection, huh?

Pelle seems ready to get back to Denmark where he plans to start a new job. His plans, however, derail; instead, life leads Veronica to Pelle's door in Denmark. This "casual" fling shakes life to the core for Veronica, Pelle's best friend and family. Comedy and tragedy are dished out in equal parts in "I'll Come Running." Parsons' little film can be described as a broken romance about what happens when strangers change each other's lives forever. The performances in this lovely little film are very organic. It's truthful in the sense that life is messy, emotional and there are no clear-cut endings. It also demonstrates the complexity of human beings-how we often do the unexplainable and how we are often better served by thinking things through. For me, Parsons took a hopeful look at the human condition. In other words, we're doing the best we know how as we go along. Sure, we fuck up plenty but, at times, we actually grow and evolve from life's many foibles, twists, and turns.

All writers out there, I would imagine, spend a lot of time trying to put
themselves in someone else's shoes. That's not always a pleasant experience,
especially when those are the shoes of a young mother and politician held captive in the jungles of Colombia for six years. I first discovered Ingrid Betancourt in 2002, when she
announced her candidacy for the Colombian presidency and published "Until Death Do Us
Part; My Struggle to Regain Colombia." As a child, I had left Colombia in 1981,
a year that marked the end of a brief but peaceful time in my country. The new
era post-1981(not coincidentally the same year that Reagan became president)
was marked by violence, kindnappings, explosions...chaos suddenly seemed to rain
down on a people known for their celebration of life, family, religion, music,
etc.

In 2002, Betancourt quickly became my hero. First, she was a woman saying
incredibly daring things against corrupt politicians, FARC...no one was spared.
Second, Betancourt was incredibly articulate, beautiful, cultured, and
passionate. She was waging a very public battle against corruption, fighting to
save her countrywhich had fallen to drugs, bribery and corruption from all
sides. In her autobiography, she recounted incidents where she managed to talk
her way out of life-threatening situations. Betancourt seemed to be
indestructable, fearless, untouchable. So when word of her kidnapping spread in
2002, it sent chills down the spine of every Colombian...a chill across the world
really.

Six years later, Betancourt was freed on July 3, 2008, along with fourteen other hostages who had been held captive for years by Colombia's brutal rebel forces known as FARC. I cried from joy...unspeakable emotion as if it had been my own mother liberated! I felt the whole world, certainly Colombia and France (Betancourt has dual citizenship), breathing a sign of relief when word of her liberation was announced. It was the end of a long suffering for Betancourt, her family and fans the world over. Word of her condition had worsened in recent years; she was said to be suffering from deep depression. I spent nights trying to imagine her despair; her calculating a way out; her fighting off frightening bugs from the rain forest, and even more frightening FARC soldiers. At times, it seemed as if the world had forgotten about her and the rest of the hostages.