And this was why I found myself in a restaurant booth across from the Culver City filmmaker Bill Wynn, an easy-going gentleman, for the best part of yesterday afternoon.

The story about the first 5-day Downtown Film Festival Los Angeles (dffla.com), running Wednesday through Sunday, and headlining 23 feature-length movies and 100 shorts, is that it is being staged in downtown Los Angeles, which emptied out 45 years ago but has been making a comeback.

The “Audacity of Hope” is not a description of that fellow running for President on the Democratic ticket. It’s daring to host an ambitious — multi-ethnic — film spectacular at 6 different downtown sites, and people are going to come.

Except for the intriguing Mr. Wynn, whom I met last year, there was hardly another name I recognized on the lengthy “Special Thanks” list. That is because the big boys in entertainment are not going to bet their on money until the scramblers prove it can be done.

Getting to Know a New Hometown

But first, Mr. Wynn has a Culver City story to tell.

A third-year resident, the filmmaker harbored ambitious plans of his own when he moved here, an international film festival. He spoke first with Ross Hawkins, founder of the annual Backlot Film Festival, soon determined they had different visions and moved on. “The idea of an international festival ,” Mr. Wynn said, “would be to celebrate the film history that Culver City is known for.”

Why hasn’t it happened yet?

“Because it is new, and everything new takes time,” he said. At City Hall, Mr. Wynn was referred to Culver City’s leading icon, the highest profiled gentleman in town, the former Mayor Albert Vera. “Albert said he would help me in any way he could.”

Next up was a chat with Susan Obrow, the Cultural Affairs lady at City Hall.

Mr. Wynn said it as he who suggested the concept for last year’s 90th birthday celebration, a film-centric event known as “Made in Culver City.”

As for Credits…

“I gave them the idea, but they didn’t give me credit for it,” Mr. Wynn said, evenly. “They are doing it again this year (Saturday, Sept. 6). I also gave them the idea about the celebration. I came to a City Council meeting and talked about a celebration of the city’s 90th anniversary. The city didn’t have anything planned. I gave them two ideas, and they incorporated them into one.

“This year, I see where they are going to have ‘Made in Culver City’ again, but they didn’t contact me.”

Shifting his gaze back toward downtown Los Angeles, Mr. Wynn talked about this week’s festival in which he, as a board member, played a significant hand. He is executive producer of the African and African-American film division — and if you hurry, you have just enough time to catch a pre-festival screening, at 8 tonight, of the showcase film, “Afrique 360,” at the Cinema Village Theatre, Barker Block, festival headquarters, at 510 S. Hewitt St.

Mr. Wynn explained that the Downtown Film Festival Los Angeles is an outgrowth of the Silverlake Film Festival. One of the objectives of this new version is to show off the gentrification that has transformed downtown, gradually, over the last two decades.

Back in Culver City

One year away from his 70th birthday, touting the vigor of a much younger man, he has plunged with verve into his new community. Last winter, one might say he became the conscience of the most successful Martin Luther King Day tribute yet, and he probably will top that in January because he is chair of the next program.

“Culver City, to me,” says Mr. Wynn, “is like a little oasis. I am glad I came when I did because I understands there was a little tension (around the King Day Committee) prior to my coming here. I heard that from people who had been here for a number of years.”

But not everything is perfect. His son, who formerly lived in Culver City, told his father about being stopped by Culver City police for no apparent infraction — Driving While Black, father and son suspect.

A Red Light in the Rear Window

If you knew the elder Mr. Wynn, you would quickly stamp him one of the nice guys in your circle.

Even he could not escape the long clutches of you-know-who for you-know what.

Mr. Wynn is a distinguished looking gentleman. One evening last year after leaving a late-night post-play reception at the Odyssey Theatre, he was driving home along Sepulveda Boulevard. Only a moment had passed after turning out of the parking lot. “They asked me where I was going,” he said. “They said I had a nice car. I guess I was stopped because I am an African American.

“I was by myself. I’m not a hot-rodder.”

Mr. Wynn shook his head. He insisted he was not mad and certainly did not bear a grudge.

“It is the climate we are living in,” he said, with a sense of resignation.