This was posted from my hotel room in San Francisco...

This experience that I am currently living is... quite honestly one of the most unique experience that I believe someone of my generation can go through.

We have all had those... holidays with the Grandparents... Perhaps even gone shopping with them.... or even a vacation.

It seems to me that too many people have friends only in their own immediate age group... the same generation.

Being a film freak... I have never had a problem of conversation with any age group, because.. film is a common point of reference that transcends age.

Currently I'm on a boat that is... in the Pacific Ocean. The average age on this boat is probably in the sixties. There are perhaps a half dozen people under my age on the boat... and close to a thousand that are double it. And I'm loving this.

There is no internet. No telephones. I can't drive to a regular hangout with my friends. As I lay in bed, it rocks slowly back and forth. I step out on my balcony, and in the black inkiness of the night I can hear the crashing of waves, far off floating lights... somewhere... unseen is a bell dinging back and forth in the distance... I don't know where for sure. As I lean out onto the bar I can see lights illuminating the wake of the ship.... the churning white water parting to let this vessel pass by.

I can see the lights of the different rooms reflected in the ocean.

I visit a piano bar... the tickling of the keys... the music... a bit of Scott Joplin, a tinge of MY FAIR LADY... I pass the little Quartet room, and... my oh my... It's all music from another time... echoed most often in film.

There's a style and class aboard that is typically not apart of the universe that our generation participates in. Fine clothes, fine wines, fine companionship. Manners, a lack of four letter words and a sense of ease.

And as I ease around this ship... the M.S. MAASDAM... I find friendship with a different timeperiod. Talking about travelogues before feature presentations. Folks that remember the Holocaust as more than a subject in books and films. People that are trying to understand the conflicts and furor of the current generations.

Aboard this floating time machine I am visiting with over 200 fellow 'floaters'. These are Dusty's People. The friends and film goers that visit the TORONTO FILM FESTIVAL... This particular crowd are the 'youngsters' aboard. I think the average age drops to perhaps 58 or so here. They are film goers.

The films aboard are everything from TWO FAMILY HOUSE, the movie that won the audience award at SUNDANCE to THE TERRORIST... a haunting film that John Malkovich has been trumpeting.... to a film of violent fury like AMERICAN PSYCHO.

Now... One might feel that this crowd couldn't handle a movie of violence like AMERICAN PSYCHO... but you see... this is the same audience that first discovered and heralded... THE SILENCE OF THE LAMBS... Now that doesn't mean that AMERICAN PSYCHO will be a good or even great film... but this audience will watch it... and discuss it... and for that I am very very happy.

The driving force behind the festival is Dusty Cohl, the man most responsible, as far as I can tell, for the astounding success and vision of THE TORONTO FILM FESTIVAL.

Dusty, a character that... well you just kind of have to meet. You see... Let me describe how I first came to see this visionary cigar chomping man...

There I was, being led about on board.

"You have to meet Dusty!"

Well, I suppose I must. As I get led around, up 11 decks from where I first walked aboard. Past chandeliers and artifacts and treasures from around the world... past slot machines and blackjack tables... past the bronze dolphin adorned swimming pool, past the buffet lines and the bottles of fermented pleasures... Through motion sensor activated doors and atop the whole ship... wind blowing, beneath a giant deck umbrella... wearing a cowboy hat, a Floating Film Festival t-shirt, a old west looking weathered sun-tinted face adorned with a piercing gaze with flashlit eyes and a chesire smile chomped upon a blazing cigar... This was Dusty.

I tell you, after the trip through all this extravagance... being flown to a different hemisphere... pairing up with the DUDE... Coming aboard to meet with Roger... I had no mental image of what to expect from a 'Dusty'.

I know every other person that runs a film festival looks as if they have advanced colon cancer that is actively rotting away at them while also having a fair share of gut-wrenching strokes. NOT DUSTY.

All smiles... not a tense bone in his body. Completely at ease. He greets me... offers a seat, begins by asking me if the Dude and I had started the party without him. Indeed we had, as I'm sure you are aware from my previous chronicles.

I'm presented with a pin, a pin that I am quickly informed elevates me into the sacred society of... 'The Friends Of Dusty' and it must be worn at every festival... As of yet I am unaware of any code phrases or sacred handshakes... but then... even if I were aware of such fraternal and masonic-like activity, wouldn't I be forced to say that I have not heard of them, nor am I aware of any such things? And I would continue to say... Who is this Dusty that you are asking about?

Being bestowed with the rather terrible infliction of not being able to ever remember anybody's name ever, unless they are a relative, I've slept with them, or they are a personal friend of at least 6 months of constant interaction.... I will constantly be using a short hand... (P.S. This is one of the reasons why I give people Spy Names. It helps keep it all straight in this rather shrivled grape of a noggin I try to operate out of.)... to describe the people and the interactions of the folks I have met aboard this incredible odessey.

First there is Roger. He is so loose and in his complete most comfortable element aboard this ship that it's quite stunning. When he steps up to the mike... he just effuses energy and fire.

He tells stories of first meeting John Wayne upon the set of THE GREEN BERETS. There was a helicopter shot of the camp that day, and everyone not in uniform had to stay in buildings or beneath the trees... Well, Wayne was told that the 'young reporter from Chicago' was there. So Ebert began to see John Wayne move towards him. Dressed in full military uniform... complete with grenades, rifle, knife, gunbelt, etc... And as that gigantic screen icon reached out a hand to shake Roger's... Wayne said... and Roger said he'd never forget what John said.... Wayne said, "JOHN...WAYNE..." and shook his hand... as Roger stammered in a shaky staccato.... "I.i.i...i..I... na.. na. KNOW"

Story after story... I'll place them in front of the reviews... as part of the introduction.

When doing the show with Roger, usually our conversations have to be a bit... guarded as we can't talk about the immediate films on mind... As... those words and phrases must be saved for the camera... for the audience, but here... Here we are unbound in our enthusiasms and there is no timed end to the conversations. Not to say that I spend all my time on board this ship with Roger... quite the contrary. Roger is here to watch films and vacation a bit with his lovely wife.

Instead, I have been mingling with various other folks aboard this floating keg of life.

One chap is inventing basic social systems to test behavior using computer engineered models.

One beauty is the lady in charge of marketing for BLOOMINGDALES... including product placement in scores of film, exclusivity of of said product and so on.

A venture capitalist that is investigating the world of film, for his daughter (of 16) in Toronto wishes to go into the world of film, and he is trying to understand this, and to do some advance investigation into what that world may hold for a young woman.

There is a younger lady who is a part of some Toronto production company, for whom she is a development executive vacationing with her mother.

There is Richard Corliss and his wife Mary Corliss... well... perhaps I should explain how this festival works.

First off, there is a very interesting and different route taken to this festival. You see, the entire festival is programmed by film critic types... so you have films and presentations by Roger Ebert, Richard Corliss, Jim Emerson, Hannah Fisher, Kathleen Carroll, Mary Corliss, George Anthony and even me, Harry Knowles.

How are the results?

Well, we have indies, a lot of them. We have a film from India, Hungary, France, Scotland, Tibet, Iran, and Poland. 2 from China and England. 4 from Canada and 5 from the United States including... CITIZEN KANE presented FRAME BY FRAME by the dear Mr Ebert.

Now, does this format of having Critics pick the films for a festival guarantee nothing but top quality films? Well, that is always a matter of opinion, even if the choices are coming from paid connieseurs of cinema... That doesn't mean that you will like their latest curry dish or anis flavored flank. You may not have the tongue for it, the taste buds may be registered differently. But then... such is the way of film. It takes different things to float one's boat, but the one thing that is assured, is something... probably quite a few of the films will put some wind in your sails.

Before each film, a critic... one of the above... introduces the film... a fairly brief intro.... or an extensive one from Roger.... Whichever it may be... they tend to be the precise introduction to begin each film with. There are some questions from the audience... and the film begins.

There may be walkouts during the movie... most often it seems during subtitled features... Some are referring to these 'walkers' as being heathens.... The thought has crossed my mind though that perhaps... the lettering may in fact be hard to read for some tired eyes... which... knowing my own grandparents... can and is often the reason they choose not to watch foreign films.

When the film ends... there is always, it seems, a very lively film conversation about symbolisms, parallel thoughtlines... various interpretations that the audience goes back and forth with the various critics with. And... I find this actually far more interesting than the usual filmmaker-post-film conversations that I have attended, because... here... you don't have the questions like:

"What was the budget?"

answer: Not enough!

"Do you have a distributor?"

answer: Lion's Gate, Artisan, Fine Line, Sony, Miramax, USA Films or.... NO.

"How long did it take to make?"

answer: I wrote the script about 4 years ago, but it took a while to find someone to get behind it. But we shot it in 24 (or 36) weeks and post took about 5 months.

"What was it like working with such-n-such?"

answer: An absolute pleasure. I had no idea what to think going into the film with him/her, but he/she just brightened the set each day and we've become close friends with whom I won't work with again unless the financing is right.

"Where do you get your ideas?"

answer: I don't really know how to answer that question. Sometimes I'm on the toilet... Sometimes it's in the car... I just try to wrangle them all into a logical order with which to make a move that hopefully some of you could enjoy. (followed by applause)

"Would you read my next script?"

answer: You know... if you could see me after the Q&A I'll tell you how you can get it to me.

and so on.

However... HERE... at this FLOATING FILM FESTIVAL, the post-screening conversation are on film theory... thoughts of the plot, what worked and didn't work for various folks, and by the time you reach the end of this... I found myself quite ecstatic with the audience participation which quite often at other festivals, that I'm usually bored with.

And... because the attendees of the film festival are exactly the same number as there are seats in the theater... Well... heh. There are no lines to get in. You also get to be part of a very unique family of filmgoers.

It's strange... at first I thought.... "Whoa... not my crowd!" But as the festival is coming to an end... I find myself all set to miss these faces. And bound and determined to head up to Toronto this year for the TORONTO FILM FESTIVAL, to not only take part in the festival... but to again get to hang out with the Toronto crowd on this Festival.