Moose Dreams

Q: What do you get if you mix the urge to make movies, a 48-hour deadline and a big, furry costume? A: You may want to avert your eyes

Kirk Mangels's lips crease into a thin line. He squeezes one forearm behind his back and waits for his turn to pluck a piece of paper from a hat that will make or break his weekend.

At the head of the line, a man representing Anjou Films reaches into the hat and, with dismay, announces the result: silent film. Kirk grins -- he was dreading that genre. Others in the crowd at Washington's Warehouse Theater clap wildly, taking delight in the tough draw of a competitor.

The next filmmaker, from Team Soul Story, pulls horror. "Damn," Kirk mutters. That's one he wanted for his team, Worthy Foes. Mockumentary is next out of the hat, going to Resilient Young Asian Network. Kirk looks crestfallen to see that genre slip away. "We're getting dangerously close to musical and western," he says. Choosing either of those genres would be a dagger. "The things that define westerns, big expansive spaces and horses, you just can't replicate here in Washington." His distaste for musicals is more succinct: "That's just the booby prize."

This is Kirk's fifth year trying to win the 48 Hour Film Project, a breakneck moviemaking contest that started in Washington but has now gone international. About 1,100 filmmaking teams in 35 cities from Portland to Paris are participating in this year's round of competitions. That's roughly 18,000 actors, makeup artists, camera operators, scriptwriters, directors, producers and editors. Participants are a mix of amateurs and film professionals, looking for fun or a chance to network.

Finally, Kirk, a 42-year-old freelance video producer, stands before the floppy orange top hat. He reaches inside, snags the first paper to tickle his fingers and shows it to the emcee, who leans into the microphone and calls out, "Fantasy!"

Kirk smiles. Fantasy is just fine with him. "Cool," he says. "We'll totally deal with that."

Now Kirk and his 24-member team -- mostly friends and friends-of-friends willing to work for free -- have two days to write, shoot, edit and score a seven-minute fantasy film that will wow a three-judge panel and beat out the movies made by 99 other teams. Shooting the film will cost about $3,000, with the bill being footed by a friend and the father of producer Brad Mendelsohn.

The 48-hour time limit will be doggedly enforced, so Kirk got a head start this afternoon, renting sound and lighting equipment. He also stopped by a costume shop and impulsively hauled away a six-foot moose outfit. He had no clue what purpose a moose could serve in his film. In fact, the raggedy brown costume, with a missing clump of head fur, seemed at odds with his plan to create serious cinema. "I don't want this to be just some silly little film," he'd said.

But now his costume selection seems prescient. "The moose," Kirk says, "it fits perfectly with fantasy!"

Everyone has finished selecting genres. Team Diamond, 11 students from Oakton High School in Vienna, has gotten stuck with musical, which Mark Romano, the team's 17-year-old first-time director, later acknowledges is the worst possible pick. Only one chore remains before the clock starts, and the filmmakers scatter. Mark Ruppert, one-time executive director of the Silver Spring Chamber of Commerce who created the 48 Hour Film Project as a high-speed artistic lark, announces the three elements that must be included in every film. The mandatory character, prop and snippet of dialogue are designed to give extra zing to the contest and block prewritten scripts.

"Your character is Tim or Tina Tate, gay glass sculptor extraordinaire," Ruppert tells the crowd. "The prop is a fire extinguisher . . . And your line of dialogue is, 'This is absolutely the last time.' "

"Now that's funny," Kirk says, reacting to the line. He deems the prop "heavy and stupid." But Tim or Tina Tate really bothers him. "To make the character gay, that's just inviting stereotypes," he grouses.