Twelve months ago we started planning True/False 2015, beginning with the quotidian. We braced ourselves for the temporary loss of Jesse Hall, our biggest venue, and the transition to the full digital projection throughout the fest. All that work funnels down to four days of celebrating an art form that plays with time like no other. Movies expand and contract history, placing us in a moment that seems to stretch forever, then snapping back like a rubber band and hurtling us into the future. It's the closest to time travel we ever get. 

Through those travels, we're told stories - tales of good guys and bad guys, and we comfort ourselves that our side will triumph over the other. Americans are utopian at heart who don't stop believing in the next exalted tomorrow. This hopefulness serves us well, even when we're faced with overwhelming evidence to the contrary. But these time-worn narratives, smoothed with successive retellings, aren't quite the fixed facts we imagine. 

That's where T/F icon Adam Curtis comes in. Curtis' films rearrange the fables of our era with astonishing dexterity, and transcend the simple morality tales told by politicians and the media. Other T/F films also revel in the messiness of shattered assumptions, from the "he said/he said" sparring of Best of Enemies to the muddy moral terrain of Cartel Land

But here at True/False, we remain wary optimists. And with good reason. In our twelfth year, we have more support than ever from a growing band of experienced core staff, sponsors, techs, and 850+ volunteers. Each of them has helped arrange and rearrange the thousands of details that comprise the narrative of this year's fest. 

This past gives us confidence that we can make things happen, the future beckons us to think bigger. But for now, let the movies, music, art, and community help us lose track of time. With some luck, we'll be too busy basking in the swirl of sensation to notice an hour disappear early Sunday morning. 

Spring forward,

Paul, David, and the rest of the T/F conspiracy

In memory of Malik Bendjelloul, who, in two visits here, was a whirling ball of energy and enthusiasm, and one of the kindest souls in the doc community.