Reeling in the films

Young Chang

NEWPORT BEACH -- Tom Nolan leaves his steady and predictable life for

two weeks every April and jumps into what he lovingly calls “organized

chaos.”

For 50 weeks of the year, Nolan is a manufacturer of a sports therapy

product called ProIce. He holds 30 trade shows annually and knows, by

now, that nothing ever really goes wrong.

He’s usually in bed by midnight.

It’s the remaining two weeks of the year that flip his life

upside-down.

As the print traffiker for the Newport Beach Film Festival, Nolan

ensures all 200-plus films get where they need to be every spring.

He’s not in charge of bringing the films to Newport Beach. But once

they arrive, that’s when Nolan’s fortnight of “bedlam” begins between the

Lido Theater, Edwards Big Newport, Edwards Island Cinemas and the ever

crammed-and-slammed festival office.

“There’d be nothing worse than for the theater lights to go down and

nothing play,” the 57-year-old said.

Once the films screen, Nolan returns them to their senders (who are

spread across more than 27 countries) or jockeys the movies to different

theaters for repeat viewings.

“That is a monumental task,” said Todd Quartaroro, director of

marketing. “I can say that Tom Nolan keeps the entire festival running

smoothly.”

But the traffiker’s job description far exceeds that of a messenger.

Over the years, he’s learned to go from traffiker to engineer with

projectionists asking about a film’s aspect ratio, its sound requirements

and what sort of millimeter the piece is shot on.

“When you’re a volunteer, everything’s your job,” Nolan said.

He’s set up food platters at opening and closing galas, he’s carried

tables, he’s answered a page mid-screening and run out to tend to small

festival emergencies.

He’s even found himself far from his Laguna Hills bed at midnight. The

Hard Rock Cafe, Wolfgang Puck and the Four Seasons Hotel -- he’s a

regular face at these party headquarters.

In his fourth year of trafficking films -- he started with the Jeffrey

Conner version known as the Newport Beach International Film Festival in

the late ‘90s -- Nolan has learned that the best thing to wear every day

is a big smile.

“You just try to speak in a calm, patient voice and know that

everything will be OK,” he said.

Which is hard, sometimes, considering all the things that could

possibly go wrong.

About 65% of the films arrive in the mail well before the festival

begins. No, they don’t all come in sophisticated canisters -- some get

thrown in everything from supermarket bags to laundry hampers -- but they

get here.

Others are hand-carried by the directors to the screening the day it’s

supposed to show.

Yet others are overnighted, coming straight from another festival.

“We hope and pray,” Nolan said.

There are films that arrive with trailers from a previous festival

still attached. There are films that get sent without cores -- the middle

section to which the projector is attached.

Nolan laughs describing each mini-catastrophe. Everyone means well, he

concludes. After all, festivals everywhere are run mostly by volunteers.

“It might’ve been a doctor from Wisconsin,” he mused, about how a film

arrives without cores.

But it’s this volunteer spirit that brings Nolan back for 18-hour work

days every year to celebrate filmmaking. The hectic office, the fact that

six different things always happen at once and the almost-humorous

guarantee that everything might go wrong challenges him to help make the

screenings happen.

“You just learn that your own personal needs and wants are going to go

on the back burner,” Nolan said. “Everything’s for the good of the

festival. The festival always comes first.”

* Young Chang writes features. She may be reached at (949) 574-4268 or

by e-mail at o7 young.chang@latimes.comf7 .