Watching Films Off The Grid

In the three or so years I’ve lived in Salisbury, I’ve made some amazing friends, none of whom happen to be under the age of 40. Generally, I’m okay with that. When I need a dose of millennial drama, I can pack a duffel on a Friday night and trek down to New York or Philly, where most of my 20-something friends live, spend the weekend analyzing our uncertain futures and eating too much lox (my squad knows how to rage), then return to my hermitage in the woods on Sunday, hungover and mostly grateful for the quiet life I lead. 

But about six months ago, I was starting to get sick of feeling like I had to leave town to find young people with whom I could engage. (Also, when I say “young,” I mean 40-ish and under. Sorry if that offends anyone, but more than an arbitrary age cutoff, I’m referring to a set of common experiences: for instance, having just one home, not two, and preferably a rental. Not being permanently settled. Hearing the words “happy hour” and “no cover” and still feeling vaguely enthused. Etc.) Age is just a number, but when you’re 26 and living alone in a cottage — yes, a cottage, like Snow White — within spitting distance of not one, but two retirement communities, it’s hard not to feel a bit out of place sometimes. I’ve always suspected that there were smart interesting young people hiding in the hills up here, kept apart by badly plowed dirt roads and Puritanical social norms that tell us it isn’t cool to go knocking on neighbor’s doors. And then, at a Wassaic Project opening last October, I met a young couple who had shared my suspicion, then actually decided to do something about it. 

Cindy Heslin and Jeff Palfini, who moved to Cornwall from San Francisco two years ago, refuse to believe that the only way to have fun and meet people is not to hang out around here, and they missed the spontaneous intermingling that happens naturally in a city. So they started Boondocks Film Society, a monthly-ish series of film screenings in eclectic venues throughout the Berkshires, with themed food, drinks, and music. 

“The goal was kind of selfish at first,” says Heslin, 33, who has a day job as a studio assistant to artist Philip Taaffe. “We know there are cool, creative young people up here, and we wanted to find a way to meet them and get them to come out. But it’s really hard to do that when you live in the middle of nowhere.” 

Part of the problem, Palfini says, is that most of the art and film events in the area are a) geared toward the Metropolitan Opera-going set and b) largely attended by the Metropolitan Opera-going set. But, aside from a smattering of blogs, there’s no curated calendar of events that would appeal to a less well-heeled demographic — and, more to the point, there aren’t many of those events in the first place. 

Last May, Boondocks Film Society hosted its first event at Canaan’s decommissioned Colonial Theatre: a screening of “Arizona Dream,” a 1994 indie cult classic starring Johnny Depp and Lili Taylor. Since then, they’ve shown seven movies, including “Dazed and Confused” at the Four Brothers drive-in in Amenia, “Porco Rosso” at the Great Barrington airport, and “Nothing Lasts Forever,” an unreleased Bill Murray flick from 1984, also at the Colonial Theatre (Heslin and Palfini are partial to its art-deco vibe and comfy seating). The screenings often involve collaborations with local restaurants and artists; their most recent event, “Better Off Dead,” held in a ski lodge at Catamount, featured TV dinners catered by The Prairie Whale in Great Barrington (for those unfamiliar with the film, Better Off Dead involves both skiing and microwaveable frozen meals). So the appeal isn’t just the movie; it’s feeling like you’re part of a neighborhood, a phenomenon that’s hard to create without the democratizing rituals of city life. 

Boondocks is still just a two-person operation, and Heslin and Palfini generally plan only  one screening at a time. The best way to find out about upcoming events is to check their Facebook page or website, www.boondocksfilmsociety.org. These guys may still be mostly underground, but there’s clearly an appetite for this type of experience: Boondocks events often draw upwards of 70 or 80 people; “Porco Rosso” brought nearly 150 people. The audience is fairly diverse in terms of age, but Heslin and Palfini have managed to connect the youth diaspora precisely because they aren’t trying to cater to some abstract idea of “youth culture.” Instead, their choices reflect their own taste in film, which leans quirky, dark, and a bit surreal. The result is that the whole thing feels genuine and unpretentious which is the most reliable way to get the kids to come out of their cottages.