The International Corporate Governance Network, with members who oversee more than $77 trillion in investment capital on behalf of working people, presented lifetime achievement awards to governance pioneers in Washington DC on March 7. One of the awardees was RogerEbert.com Contributing Editor Nell Minow, who is also a lawyer working on behalf of shareholders for the past 38 years. In her presentation, ICGN CEO Kerrie Waring, quoted Fortune Magazine, which called Nell Minow "a CEO killer" and Business Week Online, which called her "the queen of good corporate governance."
In her speech following the presentation, she said, "In this century, for the first time in history, the borders on maps are near-irrelevant in addressing major problems. A country could have the best environmental laws possible but its citizens will still be breathing the air from the countries with the worst. The same is true for disclosure laws – companies can just switch domiciles. And for worker safety and wage protections – they can just switch operations to another location. That means that global investors will play the defining role, based on their fiduciary obligation to assess long-term investment risk, than governments. I could not imagine entrusting this responsibility to a better group than the members of ICGN, and I look forward to continuing to work with you all to do our best for the people who entrust us with their future."
]]>It’s Time to Give a FECK: Elevating Humanity through Forgiveness, Empathy, Compassion, and Kindness, launching on May 7, 2024, is a book by Chaz Ebert, publisher of RogerEbert.com. In it, she combines personal stories, academic research, news events, and practical steps, and warm encouragement on how to make the world more humane and connected. She also explains the surprising impact practicing these qualities has on our own sense of purpose and happiness.
It was a great pleasure to interview my friend and colleague about this heartwarming and inspirational book.
For a serious, even spiritual subject, your book has a very lighthearted title. Why did you chose that
FECK is an acronym for Forgiveness, Empathy, Compassion and Kindness, all pretty weighty concepts. Most people don't think of fun when taking steps to help elevate humanity. But if applied in the right spirit these things can absolutely bring us joy! And besides, the title is a bit catchy and makes people laugh when they think it can be good to Give A FECK!
Your book has a very engaging combination of your personal experiences and references to news stories, academic research, and even a Broadway musical. Why was it important to include your own stories?
I was told by other published writers that when you include your own stories it personalizes your message and makes it less preachy. I had to put some skin in the game, so to speak. And believe me, it wasn’t easy, I would rather write and talk about other people. However, I know that when I read another writer’s work I appreciate them letting us in and allowing us to get to know them better. It makes for a more authentic experience. I have to admit it was emotional to relive some of the personal experiences.
What discovery surprised you most in your research?
I was the most surprised and touched by the stories of “Forgiveness.” It makes me weep when I think about people whose family members were killed, and yet they found that very profound capacity to forgive the perpetrators. Whether it was the congregation at the Emanuel African Methodist Church in Charleston, South Carolina, or the Nickel Mines Amish Schoolhouse in Pennsylvania, discovering that you forgive for yourself as much as for the other person was a revelation. It frees you and keeps you from being imprisoned by the pain and resentment. Forgiveness is really difficult and really important. That fact was brought home when we hosted Israelis and Palestinians at Ebertfest after the showing of the film "Disturbing The Peace" about their paths to forgiveness.
You make an important point in your discussion of Archbishop Desmond Tutu that forgiveness is not only a spiritual obligation but in the most practical sense “political expediency.” Many people might think that because an act helps to achieve a political goal it is somehow less “pure.” What do you think?
Yes, that’s a good observation. Because Archbishop Tutu was a man of the cloth you would think that his basis for forgiveness would be only the bible. And yes, he does talk about the biblical basis, but he also expounds on the political expediency. He and President Nelson Mandela led the Truth and Reconciliation Commission to unify South Africa after the abolishment of apartheid. He said he lost many friends over it because some people wanted revenge more than reconciliation. However, they knew that after a publicly remorseful confession of wrongs by the offenders under the old apartheid system, there had to be a road to redemption in order to avoid bloodshed. That is no less pure than any other type of forgiveness.
Roger famously called movies “empathy machines.” Do you have three or four favorites you found especially powerful?
I loved Roger's emphasis on empathy. One of my favorite movies when I need a good cry is “Terms of Endearment.” Shirley MacLaine’s character is tough and not very warm, so at first you shy away from her. But you empathize with her pain when she is at the hospital bed of her daughter played by Debra Winger. One of the movies that I mention in the book is Ava DuVernay’s “Selma.” She found different ways to help us empathize with characters, even those like Dr Martin Luther King,Jr, (who was portrayed by David Oyelowo) who is usually presented as more of an icon than a real-life man. She humanized him. But you don’t have to have a serious movie to exhibit empathy. One of the best empathetic movies is the animated feature “Inside Out.” There, they literally label each emotion of the little girl Riley, and let you experience those emotions along with her.
Your book has many wonderful examples of acts of forgiveness, empathy, compassion and kindness, and often the smallest gestures are the most meaningful. My favorite is the one about the health care professionals putting photos of their faces on their PPE garb. Another was just about saying, “Hello.” Why do those actions make a difference?
We think that unless we have the majesty of a Nelson Mandela or an Archbishop Desmond Tutu, our actions don’t count, but they do. Even the smallest gesture of compassion or kindness can change someone’s life for the better. I spoke with neuroscientists while researching this book who told me that more and more research is proving that acts as simple as saying hello to our neighbors have an affect on our state of well-being. And there is no doubt that the healthcare workers who cared enough to tape photos of themselves on their PPE gear so that their little patients felt a connection to a real human being provided a measurable uplift. It made those patients feel less isolated and afraid. And that is what is the most exciting about the stories in the book. You will find that you don't have to be "born" with it, you can develop the muscles of empathy, and compassion and kindness and even forgiveness by practicing them in ways big or small on a consistent basis.
How do we get better at deep listening?
Nell, it is partly intentional. Our lives are all so busy that it is not always easy to stop and take the time to put ourselves in the shoes of another. But when we do we often find the benefits of truly listening to another is a two-way street. The listener is rewarded as much as the person we are listening to. When I was growing up my mother told me that if you took the time to really pay attention to people you will find something amazing about even the most ordinary-seeming person. And so I guess another answer to that question is to develop a curiosity about what amazing thing you may find out. That helped me to become a better listener. Now, the truth is you don’t always discover that “amazing” thing right away. Ha! But you do find that by giving someone the respect of your attention, there is an exchange of “feel good” hormones. You make the person feel honored by being seen and heard, and you feel good by discovering that light in another human being. It also goes far in our efforts to Give a FECK!
I love your description of your mother. To be so sunny and loving is quite a challenge with nine children! You say everyone has a mission. How would you describe your mission?
I am only now putting all the pieces together about the image I have of my mother, and how that helped shape me. Sometimes I wonder if I am painting too saintly a picture of my mother, but when I talk to the people in my family or even my friends who knew her, they say it is an accurate picture. She really did bring the sunshine with her when she walked into the room. Now she was also very human, but she just seemed to have been gifted with an inordinate capacity to love. When she looked at you she made you feel as if you were better than you thought you were. It was so healing. We see so many who may have a "child within" who is yearning for that kind of healing. Or just in our everyday interactions whether at work or in politics, we see a need for a renewed decency and unity. And so I see that as part of my mission on this earth. I want to Give a FECK and make the stories and exercises available to help others do this too. My mission is to help spread some of that compassion and joy and kindness that she exuded. In the end, it is really all about love.
To pre-order It's Time To Give A FECK: Elevating Humanity Through Forgiveness, Empathy, Compassion and Kindness, click here.
]]>I was delighted to attend the event at the Music Box in Chicago this week promoting the new book, Black Caesars and Foxy Cleopatras: A History of Blaxploitation Cinema, by our former Film Critic Odie Henderson, who is now the head critic at The Boston Globe. Odie is one of the people who never fails to make me laugh out loud at his humor, and the crowd joined me in laughter as he held forth onstage for a Q&A with Brian Tallerico, the Managing Editor of RogerEbert.com, after the screening of the film "Super Fly." At his book signing I bought a book for myself, but I also bought several others to give away as gifts. If his book is even half as well-written as his verbal humor, it will be a gift many will be happy to receive. And in true Odie fashion, he signed my book to the "The Baddest One-Chick Hit Squad in Town!"
It was thrilling to see so many of our film contributors in attendance. But one I was particularly happy to greet was our Far Flung Correspondent, Michał Oleszczyk. Michał has represented RogerEbert.com in Cannes, but I had not seen him for a few years, and so his professorial visage complete with a beard and the confident mien of a learned man made me interested to learn more about his current life. I was proud to discover that he is in Chicago as a visiting Fulbright Scholar. As such, he is teaching Polish film at the Polish, Russian and Lithuanian Studies at the University of Illinois at Chicago.
Michał is based in Poland, where he was named the Critic of the Year by the Polish Film Institute in 2012. He wrote the first Polish book on the films of Terence Davies and has published a translation of J. Hoberman and Jonathan Rosenbaum’s “Midnight Movies." After having defended a Ph.D. thesis on the work of Pauline Kael, he has taught film at Polish universities. And he works in the Polish film industry as a script consultant and screenwriter.
A film he co-wrote, "All Our Fears," can be seen on Amazon Prime. It tells a story inspired by the life and art of an openly gay Polish artist, Daniel Rycharski, whose work was covered in The New York Times.
To welcome him to our city, I have put together a compilation of some of his work that has been published on our site over the years. Click on each bolded title, and you will be directed to the full article. Welcome to Chicago, Michał!
What makes the movie work is the consistent, comical self-pity of Marius, who at one point even professes mad love for Otilia and says they should get back together again. It's a great moment for the actress Mihaela Sirbu, who manages to convey that tiny glimmer of amusement still dancing inside her, letting us know that Marius and Otilia were probably a great couple long ago. In this moment, the film plays almost like a kitchen-sink version of "His Girl Friday," with madcap Marius trying to save Otilia from a lifetime of boredom with Aurel the fuddy-duddy. He even quotes poetry to her and her expression makes it clear that no one has done it in a long, long time.
The film introduces a dozen or so characters and shifts the narrative between them in an effortless, natural way that gives us a good idea of the group dynamics, as well as some individual backstories. Even though the whole of "The We and the I" is set inside the bus, Gondry peppers the film with innovative flashbacks, shot on low-def video and serving as visual footnotes: some real, some imaginary. The whole movie feels like a breeze and has the lively rhythm of the kids' talk, which sounds totally authentic and was actually improvised in a workshop Gondry ran with his actors prior to the shooting.
"Stranger by the Lake" is the sexiest and most elegant thriller in years, and it's a damn shame it stands so little chance of traveling beyond the niche of a "gay film" it will probably get squeezed into. This French movie, written and directed by Alain Guiraudie, is set in a single location and has a dreamy quality to it: a mixture of allure and menace that's quite intoxicating. We never leave a sunny gay cruising area the characters are frequenting—a lake, a beach, a nearby boudoir of bushes—but our imagination is kept alert at all times: every image and every cut is underlined with tension.
Far from a standard-issue indie in its basic premise, Harrill’s first outing as a writer/director is very mature in its treatment of a subject from which movies often shy away: the awakening of a religious impulse in a secular, educated adult. Unlike such recruiting posters as the recent “Heaven is For Real” or the 1943 chestnut “The Song of Bernadette”, “Something, Anything” is close in spirit to Fred Zinnemann’s great 1959 “The Nun’s Story”, in which a particular woman’s religious vocation was treated with all the attentiveness and respect one would hope for when dealing with anyone’s sense of purpose in life.
Love & Money with James Toback
Since I’m 68 now, I don’t have an overwhelming sense of anything beginning. To me, everything seemed part of youth until I was about 50. At that time, it occurred to me I wasn’t going to live forever. As a result, I don’t give a fuck. I don’t think of the future in terms of long-distance planning, but only in terms of the next move. I don’t want to live too long; I feel there’s a limit I wouldn’t like to cross. Let me put it this way: There’s not an 85-year-old man on this planet that I would like to be.
Coming to America: A Conversation with James Gray
The whole idea was to show something that makes Ewa realize that transcendence exists. It was very important to me. If all you have is bleakness upon bleakness, there's no point in watching. In "Survival in Auschwitz," Primo Levi says that even in Auschwitz there were moments when he felt joy. I don't even understand that, at least not emotionally. I can, sort of, understand it intellectually and that's part of what I was trying to do here. Also, maybe you could see the strings enabling Jeremy to levitate if you weren't in the state of mind Ewa is at that point in the story. She needs this magic to survive.
I really like to work with intelligent actors who understand what the characters are going through in the scene and why they say the things they say. This is how it becomes organic. In "One Floor Below”, the main character runs into the guy he suspects is a murderer, and they have a long conversation about registering a car – but that’s not what they really talk about. I gave the actors specific instructions on what the characters are thinking at any given moment, so it’s really a step by step process of creating a moment. I think that big battles in life happen exactly like this: they are not frontal in nature, they happen between the lines.
No Safety Net: Eugenia Yuan on “Revenge of the Green Dragons”
In a way, actors are just like immigrants: plunging into something new and scary in order to emerge as different human beings. On the other hand, changing doesn’t mean that you stop being yourself. There’s an anchor somewhere deep down that keeps you and makes you into who you are. You don’t even realize it’s there, and it’s usually when you hit your lowest point that you discover what that anchor truly is. It’s sad that it takes so much, but I think that your lowest point can also be the point at which you become strongest.
Serenity Now: Paul Harrill on Light from Light
I think our obsession with work and multi-tasking make introspection and spiritual work very challenging. But, in terms of the difficulty in discussing it, I also think it’s fear of embarrassment. We live in times in which more of us are seeking than are willing to admit. We don’t want to talk about it. It’s scary to talk about it, because when we are seeking we don’t have answers, we don’t understand what’s happening in our lives. I tried to represent that process in my two movies. The meaningful moments that happen between people in the films occur when they allow themselves to be vulnerable and honest about their own experience, their questions, their searching. It’s very hard to do, but it’s something we should strive to do.
Rob Garver on What She Said: The Art of Pauline Kael
The thing about Pauline is her writing is so consistently good that it’s hard to pick one. One of my favorite pieces is definitely The Come-Dressed-as-the-Sick-Soul-of-Europe Parties, where she criticizes three arthouse films [Michelangelo Antonioni’s “La Notte," Federico Fellini’s “La Dolce Vita” and Alain Resnais’ “Last Year at Marienbad”] as being about not much more than the “bored rich.” This is just pure Pauline—so much fun to read, even if you like those movies (which I am not huge fan of). Camille Paglia says in my film that Pauline was attacking exactly what Paglia loved about those movies. And Paglia loved her for it. There’s a kind of magic in pieces like this.
At night, the ski slopes of Park City, Utah, are lit so beautifully they look like screens awaiting a projection from the sky. A moviegoer attending Sundance Film Festival couldn't wish for a better backdrop for a long trek home after the final movie of the day is over. Even if the film happened to be lousy, those huge mid-air patches of white seem to hint that the good stuff is yet to come.
Costing No Less Than Heaven: Terence Davies' "The Long Day Closes"
For on the most basic—not to say shallow—level, "The Long Day Closes" is yet another "love letter to the movies"; a séance of sorts at which Davies is summoning the ghosts of films past and offers an immersion into his own childhood love affair with the moving image. Seeing the film this way (as a kind of Liverpudlian riff on Giuseppe Tornatore's "Cinema Paradiso") is at once justified and completely wrong. The movie does contain images conveying its main character's utter delight at movie watching, and one of them—that of Bud leaning against the balcony of a movie theater, with the projection beam shooting from behind his back and framing his face with a halo—even became Museum of Modern Art's still of choice, used to advertise movie screenings offered in its program.
The way the whole thing works is this. I play the movies with the hard of hearing English subtitles on. I both listen to the dialogue and see it displayed, so that I can process the lines instantaneously. The joy of the task comes basically from having to act out the movie’s script—cusswords, witticisms and all. I uttered many lines while translating that I would not dare weave into a regular conversation with my mom (still, I usually censor crude sexual humor). When the dialogue is especially impassioned, I find myself completely identifying with the character speaking it, and so I will never forget the experience of translating "A Raisin in the Sun", when the Sidney Poitier character’s frustration hit me with more force than ever before—for the very reason I had to deliver his angry, anguished monologue of complete powerlessness myself.
Life Unspooled: On Watching "Life Itself" in the Middle of Polish Winter
Among a myriad things "Life Itself" does (and it has to be said the movie works remarkably well on multiple levels, not least as a love story between Roger and Chaz and the love/hate story between him and Gene Siskel), it reveals just how open Roger was to new people and new ideas. It's no coincidence that he was the first one to embrace both TV and the internet as natural environments for film criticism—he didn't see any reason for the field to shut itself off from the widest possible audience. It may well be that Roger's greatest passion was for human contact: for sharing, giving and engaging with others (as his famous Movie Answer Man interactions always testified to.) Unlike some other great movie critics, he genuinely gave you the impression of a regular guy turning to you from his seat and striking up a conversation about the movie you just saw: "So, what did you think…?". His revolutionary approach made it possible for the seats to be located on the opposite ends of the world—without making the conversation any less real and heartfelt.
Finding the Meaning of Tenet: On Watching the First COVID-19 Era Blockbuster
For a film that opens with a deft visual metaphor of democracy in crisis (the Kiev opera audience, drugged into a coma, sits passively as international spies and thugs duke it out in plain view, all looking alike), “Tenet” is a highly individualistic work. Whether “Tenet” has anything to say about humans as a community, though, I seriously doubt. There is no class diversity in the film. It takes place wall-to-wall in a world where a Brooks Brothers suit literally means dressing down. For all the Cold War mumbo-jumbo and references to atomic destruction, the film is almost quaint in averting its eyes from actual tensions that tear apart our present world. Not that this comes as a surprise. With this film, Nolan confirms himself as the ultimate technocratic classicist: a David Lean of mind-game sci-fi films, aristocratically weaving the world’s impending doom into a tantalizing, high-priced brainiac pretzel.
Click here to find all of Michał's work published at RogerEbert.com.
]]>Hollywood Movie Corp. CEO Mikel Ravenscroft and Jerry Greenberg of Mirage Records announce that they have hired Lou Weisbach to exclusively represent the major global motion picture, "The Jerry Greenberg Story: Man Behind the Music." Jerry Greenberg is the American music executive who at 32 was the youngest president of any major record company in the recording industry and received that title in 1974 as President of Atlantic Records. He started his career in the music business as a drummer in the band "Jerry Green and The Passengers," which he founded. The band recorded for Atlantic Records, Roulette Records, United Artists, and DCP Record labels. By the age of 18, Greenberg already had his own record label, Green-Sea Records.
Their announcement states that during his tenure as president of several major labels, Jerry signed such acts as ABBA, The Blues Brothers, Foreigner, Genesis, T. S. Monk, Whitesnake, Chic, Nile Rodgers, Dr. Dre & Eazy-E (Production Deal), Motörhead, Brownstone and 3T. Jerry also introduced Mariah Carey to Tommy Mottola. In addition to signing acts, Jerry has worked with some of the greatest artists in music including Michael Jackson, AC/DC, Aretha Franklin, Bad Company, Bee Gees, Crosby Stills Nash & Young, Dr. John, Dusty Springfield, Eagles, Emerson, Lake & Palmer, Eric Clapton, Led Zeppelin, The Rolling Stones, Shannon and others.
Lou Weisbach is the CEO of In Tickets We Trust, LLC., a unique sports stadium/concert venue finance company. He was the founder and CEO of HALO, which became the largest promotional products company in the world with 55 offices in 11 countries. He was named Man of the Year by Counselor Magazine, and has served on numerous foundations and charitable boards. He has represented entertainers and athletes, and along with Dr. Rick Boxer, runs the American Center for Cures initiative dedicated to preventing and curing disease with a unique model.
"I’m so appreciative and proud to team with Jerry and Mikel in the producing of a major global motion picture about the life of such an iconic man who has had an amazing historic effect on the world of music and changed the landscape for artists and fans FOREVER," said Weisbach. "I believe this will be one of the most anticipated films of our time, given the incredible, inescapable momentum of celebrities and the industry at large in our current reality. Most importantly, it’s a privilege to work with my friend Jerry and the special human being he is."
"Lou Weisbach is a great friend and amazing man," said Greenberg. " feel grateful and comfortable knowing he will maintain my life story with accuracy and honesty giving me the peace of mind that we will see a spectacular movie."
]]>Matt Fagerholm has been a gem to work with at RogerEbert.com, and I am simultaneously sad to see him go, while overjoyed for him about the project he is undertaking. This Farewell Article contains some of his best work. Onward and Upward Matt!—Chaz Ebert
It was on February 28th, 2014, that RogerEbert.com publisher Chaz Ebert gave me the green light to publicly announce that I had been hired to join her team. My initial job title was Assistant Editor at Ebert Publishing, a role designed to assist in the publication of new books compiling the work of the site’s namesake and my lifelong hero, Roger Ebert. Over the decade that followed, my duties gradually shifted toward editorial duties for the site itself, where I had the privilege of contributing reviews, interviews and various features. I covered film festivals and events in New York, Los Angeles, San Diego, Washington D.C., Indianapolis, Bend (in Oregon), Toronto, Karlovy Vary and Reykjavík, while securing a seat in the press room of the Academy Awards three years in a row.
At Ebertfest, I had the immense honor of moderating post-screening Q&As with some of my favorite people in modern cinema including Thora Birch, Derek DelGaudio, Rick Goldsmith, Kogonada, Ben Lear, Morgan Neville, Frank Oz, Rebecca Parrish, Mykelti Williamson and Terry Zwigoff. I also returned twice to the festival’s venue in Champaign, Illinois, to cover, and occasionally participate in, the sorely missed Pens to Lens Gala in which films written by students ranging from kindergarten age to twelfth grade were brought to life by local filmmakers. Throughout it all, I was fortunate enough to have the unceasing support of my fellow editors—Chaz Ebert, Publisher-in-Chief; Brian Tallerico, Matt Zoller Seitz, Nell Minow, Robert Daniels and Nick Allen—as well as the Vice President of Development of The Ebert Company, Sonia Evans, and the Project and Office Manager, Daniel Jackson, who has become like a brother to me.
Thus, on the precipice of my tenth anniversary at the site, it seems like a fitting full circle moment to bid this extraordinary chapter of my life farewell. Other projects that were birthed directly from the work I was able to publish as a result of this site are now demanding of my full attention, and I must ensure that they will cross the finish line. I am leaving at the end of this month overwhelmed with gratitude not only for every opportunity I was granted because of this site and its unequaled team, but because of everything that it has made possible for me in the years to come. Having the opportunity to champion cinematic work that I believe in on this platform has been and will forever be one of the greatest joys of my life, and I am humbled to have played a part in helping extend Roger’s legacy into the decade following his passing.
Chaz asked me about some of my favorite articles that I have published at this site, thus leading me to compile fifty from the past decade—twenty reviews, twenty interviews and ten features—that I hold especially close to my heart. Click on each article title, and you will be directed to the full piece. I want to thank Chaz for having faith in me every step of the way. I also want to thank all of my colleagues and you, our readers, for helping keep film discourse alive and well. And thank you, Roger, for your endless inspiration. I hope I did you proud.
“A Light Beneath Their Feet” is a triumph of empathetic filmmaking. It will enthrall viewers merely seeking a coming-of-age yarn, and it contains one of the loveliest prom scenes in recent memory. But for those viewers who, like myself, can personally relate to the story and have been forced to answer the same questions, the film will bring catharsis, tears and perhaps a few epiphanies. I didn’t “get” this film so much as it “got” me.
Perhaps the film’s most singularly haunting image is that of Ye and her daughter abandoned on the side of the road, surrounded by their belongings stacked in boxes. In the last moments of the film, we learn that these boxes have been transferred in their entirety to an Ai Weiwei exhibition in New York City, where they are put on prominent display. A friend of mine once said that “a person’s very existence can serve as a protest.” Regardless of their ultimate fate, the existence of Ye Haiyan and every soul she has ever sought to protect are undeniable, and thanks to filmmakers like Wang, immortal.
This Is Everything: Gigi Gorgeous
We’ve already entered the age of Fahrenheit 451, where “friends” primarily exist on screens that take up the majority of our attention. Yet the best YouTubers are the ones who encourage their viewers to turn their attention inward and engage with the world existing outside of their laptops. When Alexis G. Zall comes out by saying she “likes girls,” or when Brad Jones opens up about surviving a suicide attempt, they aren’t just providing a diversion, they are changing lives through the empowerment of truth.
Though Donald Trump is never mentioned by name in all 140 minutes of Ai Weiwei’s new documentary, “Human Flow,” the picture is, quite simply, the most monumental cinematic middle finger aimed at his scandal-laden administration to date. In its galvanizing account of the global refugee crisis, this film is a scalding rebuke to Trump’s desired wall along the U.S.-Mexico border, his abandonment of immigrants protected under the now-defunct Dreamers program and his willful ignorance of climate change.
Consider the scene where Manana enters a family’s apartment, posing as a gas meter reader. The shot begins over her shoulder as her eyes lock with the boy who answers the door, but only gradually do we realize the child’s identity. By the scene’s end, the framing has flipped, causing us to peer over the boy’s shoulder at Manana, whose carefully modulated expression now speaks volumes. Nearly every scene is anchored by Shugliashvili’s face, which unceasingly fills in the blanks intentionally left by Ekvtimishvili’s deftly nuanced dialogue.
In a brief yet potent flashback, we see that the child Duras had with Robert turned out to be stillborn, a tragedy that may have irrevocably stunted the growth of their marriage. Some truths are best left implied, as demonstrated by a stunning moment early on when Duras welcomes her husband home, and walks to the kitchen to retrieve a drink for him. The camera continues to follow her down a hallway as her pace begins to slow, and the dream evaporates before our eyes without a single cut or line of narration.
Without ever spelling it out, Esparza shows us how our treatment of one another as members of the same human family is a direct rebuke to the divisions enforced by tyrants to keep us frightened and isolated. In its poetic simplicity, the film’s deeply moving final shot suggests that our estrangement can be mended the moment we choose to lock eyes and listen to each other, allowing our voices to rise above the deafening cries of our presumptions. Andrew’s teacher may believe he knows the family of his student, having schooled himself in their criminal records, yet the boy is entirely correct when informing him, “You don’t.”
I’ll confess that I became so enamored with Behrman’s film that when it came to a perfectly pitched conclusion, cutting to black at the precise right moment, I felt like applauding. This is not a film that ends with contrived reunions and shared, meaningful nods. It acknowledges that some frayed bonds may never be mended, while arriving at a deeper level of satisfaction, enabling its hero to not only find forgiveness within his grasp, but also self-acceptance. I imagine many young people will feel an enormous weight lifted off of them after watching this movie, as the stigma limiting their own personal expression starts to dissolve. What a gift.
Bianco and her ace cinematographer Ava Berkofsky make subtly artful use of recurring motifs, most notably the lights morphing from murky blue to clear white that assist a therapist in unearthing any buried memories Mandy may have of the fateful night. The colors race across the screen, mirroring the passing streetlights she recalls from her otherwise forgotten ride home, where she ended up on the lawn. As the lights illuminate Mandy’s face, they fade back to blue, signifying her fragmented recollections that have long since eroded.
Since the premise directly evokes Henri-Georges Clouzot’s 1953 nerve-shredding classic, “The Wages of Fear,” we find ourselves flinching along with Vlada every time we hear a suspicious noise emanating from his truck. Like Clouzot’s doomed protagonists, is he transporting nitroglycerine that could blow his vehicle into smithereens if it hits a pothole? Though Glavonić keeps the shipment a mystery for as long as possible, there are many indications early on that his film doesn’t aspire to be a remake a la William Friedkin’s 1977 “Sorcerer.” Just as a blocked bridge forces Vlada to reroute his journey, the narrative consistently veers off into unexpected territory, and the more it frustrates our expectations, the more it has us hooked. This is a film hinging not on cathartic explosions but rather, the gradual discovery of horrifying, self-implicating secrets.
Both men are now full-blown alcoholics, swerving at diagonal angles down the path of their lives while wounding passersby in the process. Yet neither Daniel nor Tillman is a cardboard villain on the order of the awful husband in “War Room,” prior to his sudden salvation courtesy of affair-disrupting food poisoning. They are the products of a system breeding toxic masculinity by dealing the Get Out of Hell Free card of forgiving-and-forgetting, brushing under the rug what should be dealt with out in the open.
When Anthony is strapped to a crucifix-like chair and given his lethal injection, it’s as if his pain and anguish is injected directly into Bernadine. In a breathtaking three-minute shot on par with the finale of Céline Sciamma’s “Portrait of a Lady on Fire,” the camera holds on Bernadine’s face as the primal horror of the procedure she has overseen for years finally sinks in, breaking through her hardened exterior until he flatlines, prompting her own body to go limp. For the first time, she finds herself at a loss for words, just as Anthony was during her feeble attempts at interaction. You can literally spot the moment when her soul appears to have left her body.
Along with his brilliant 24-year-old cinematographer, Kseniya Sereda, Balagov sports the confidence to tell his story chiefly through the faces of his characters as well as their placement in the frame, thereby making the dialogue of secondary importance. His use of long takes never calls attention to itself, while allowing his actors to engage in a subtly choreographed dance that tells us more about their relationship than words ever could. It’s crucial not to cut between emotional beats, since it is in those lingering pauses and unspoken shifts where the heart of the film lies.
By looking directly into Pearl’s eyes via the concealed camera and seeing her own disillusionment and bewilderment reflected within them, Rosa is able to free herself from the prison of unearned shame, in much the same way that Mudd felt “less stupid” after seeing Fuhrman’s performance. When the two women finally embrace, the moment is tantamount to any survivor of abuse—many of which we hear from in the film’s final moments—achieving a newfound sense of wholeness through the empowering strength of community. “Tape” isn’t just a movie. It is a rallying cry.
Beyond the Visible—Hilma af Klint
Halina Dyrschka’s debut feature, “Beyond the Visible - Hilma af Klint,” is one of the best films I’ve seen about fine art. It casts an entrancing spell that allows the staggering depth of its subject’s work to consume us, while showing how her trailblazing vision left an unmistakable imprint in over a century of iconic art spanning various mediums, resounding through history like a drop of colored paint in a pitcher of water. This is one of many metaphorical motifs Dyrschka poetically utilizes to convey the essence of af Klint’s artistry and the magnitude of its unsung influence.
The ability to read a great work of cinema is not all that different from psychoanalysis, since signs of trauma are often conveyed through nonverbal behavior rather than expositional monologues. I found myself drawing upon the same instincts I utilize for processing nuanced visual storytelling as I regarded young Sasha’s piercing stare, radiating the pent-up agony he is not yet ready to articulate. Apart from its numerous profound achievements, Neulinger’s picture is an extraordinary work of film analysis, inviting the viewer to study certain encounters frame-by-frame as a way of revealing their unspoken subtext.
A Choice of Weapons: Inspired by Gordon Parks
The great achievement of John Maggio’s latest HBO documentary, “A Choice of Weapons: Inspired by Gordon Parks,” is the depth with which it delves into the nuance of indelible images such as these, which served as both vividly realized slices of life and artfully profound meditations on race. Maggio doesn’t simply gather a line-up of distinguished talking heads to inform us that Parks was important—he shows us why.
There are times in which the score by Danny Bensi and Saunder Jurriaans swells, but never in a way that overrides the emotional truth embedded within the footage. It also knows when to preserve the sacred silence of moments where we are able to feel the weight of the family’s loss. I could write a great deal about what occurs in the film’s last half-hour, but I’d rather have you discover it for yourself. What I will say is that “Torn” elicits tears in a way that is raw, unexpected and wholly earned. By inviting viewers to share in the most private of transformative periods for his family, Max Lowe scaled the Mount Everest of the soul, creating a cinematic gift that cuts to the heart in ways few films ever do.
Who We Are: A Chronicle of Racism in America
“Who We Are” should be made required viewing in every American school as we find ourselves perched, once again, at a pivotal tipping point. The hope found in activists of all races demonstrating together in the midst of a pandemic is underlined by the joyous gospel music over the end credits. It is Robinson’s aim to guide our eye in seeing the truth of our past that is so often overlooked. This is perhaps most indelibly expressed by the fingerprints left in walls throughout Charleston by the enslaved people who built our cities, our economy and our country, brick by brick.
Though the tendency in this streaming era is to wait for documentaries such as this to arrive on an at-home platform, Shaw’s film provides an indelible reminder of cinema’s enduring power as a communal experience. If you’re fortunate enough to see this picture on a big screen with an engaged audience, you will be reminded of why we, as a species, go to the movies in the first place: to enter the lives of others and perceive the world through their eyes until our hearts have become intertwined with their own. With fascism posing a consistent threat to the future of democracy, here is an example of grassroots activism that manages to achieve what few had thought possible, while refusing to let the cries of the people be silenced. What a glorious sight to behold.
Parker Posey on “Irrational Man”
As an artist, I don’t want to compete with anyone. How can you measure one person against another? It’s very uncomfortable to go to a party and be around other actors or actresses who give you an attitude or are blatantly jealous. They don’t see the big picture and they want to compete. Art is how I make sense of my life. It’s given me a partner—the relationship to the material and to my life and how my life feeds into my art and the story. There’s a richness there, and it’s why you keep doing it.
Greta Gerwig on “Mistress America”
I like her flashes of a healthy ego. Every time I hear that line, “If I could get my look right, I’d be the most beautiful woman in the world,” it totally charms me because oftentimes female characters, particularly younger, ingénue-types, are somehow unaware of their own beauty or appeal. They’ll be like, “Huh? Am I beautiful?”, and I’m like, “You f—king know that you’re beautiful!” I love that Tracy knows that she’s beautiful, even if she hasn’t figured out what to do with it yet.
Gordon Quinn on the fiftieth anniversary of Kartemquin Films
I don’t think we, as filmmakers, are ever objective. You point the camera one way rather than another way and you’ve created a point of view. If you’re filming a demonstration and you’re standing behind the police lines, that is a point of view. If you’re standing with the demonstrators, you’ve got a different view of what you’re seeing. I don’t think any of us really claim to be objective. The point is that you want to get the different sides of the story and you want to be fair to people.
Werner Herzog on “Into the Inferno”
That’s a very good and unexpected example you have brought up. It has always been my aim to find that sort of passion and figure out how to transform it into cinema. Treadwell’s footage was almost like a diary, and he had always dreamt of becoming the movie star in his own gigantic production. He rightfully did that because he was, in a way, a star and somebody who brought us footage that nobody else has ever captured and never will again. That spirit of immersion and curiosity and awe and participation is something which Treadwell and I have in common, Clive and I have in common, and Roger Ebert had in common with us as well.
With the threat of the world becoming so misogynistic, I think it’s important to show women like this who avoid man’s weaknesses as much as possible. The men that Michèle encounters are mediocre or fragile or failures. In a way, the film takes place in a post-male era where men have faded into something that is very difficult for women to connect with.
Paul Schrader on “Dog Eat Dog”
Slow cinema isn’t really religious, it is more meditative and contemplative. I don’t know exactly how slow my film is going to be. There’s a whole buffet of slow techniques, and different directors select different items from the buffet. A Béla Tarr film is not the same as a Dietrich Brüggemann film. I’m now trying to figure out where my appreciation of slow cinema and my gut talent meet, so it can be my film, not just an imitation of somebody else’s film. There was a quote in my book from a Dutch theologian who said that art and religion are parallel lines which meet in infinity and resolve in God.
Frank Oz on “Muppet Guys Talking”
We’re fortunate to have had so many fans around the world for so long. It’s almost like the Muppets are a Trojan horse in the way that we want everyone to have fun with them, but inside, there’s something deeper. Without being didactic or saying some message, Victoria wants the film to champion the feeling of inclusion, of collaboration, of empathy and all those things that are hard to come by these days.
John Travolta on “The People vs. O.J. Simpson”
When you deal with Shapiro, you’re not just dealing with a lawyer, you’re dealing with the royal lawyer, and that comes across in his affected voice and demeanor. He used those characteristics in the way that an actor would use them. Those bits of behavior are tools that invite the audience to get very comfortable with my characters. Look at Vincent Vega in “Pulp Fiction.” So much of what one enjoyed about that character was watching how he behaved. [in Vega voice] His speech was slower, his shoulders were slumped when he ate, he rolled his cigarette and lit it in a certain way, and it looked as if he were sauntering through mud to get to a door.
Thomasin McKenzie on “Leave No Trace”
I played the young Louise, and there were some really intense and scary scenes that I had to do. That experience made me realize how, through acting, I have an opportunity to make a difference. I realized that acting was what I wanted to do, not because of the fame side of it, but because of the reward at the end of knowing that you put a really important story out into the world. Of course, I’m a teenager and that whole stardom idea is tempting and exciting, but it’s not what acting is about. I love the sort of naturalistic acting where you are being really true to the character. That’s how you connect with people and make them feel like they can relate to the story.
Laurent Bouzereau on “Five Came Back”
Every time I watch a movie, I take notes about things like framing and composition and sound effects. Hitchcock’s work represents the purest form of filmmaking because when he started directing, the movies were barely born, so everything that he created was experimental. Throughout his entire career, he continuously shows what an experimental director he is, even in commercial successes like “Psycho” or “North by Northwest.” He pushed the envelope even further in “The Birds” and then “Marnie,” which is a completely misunderstood masterpiece. You could do a whole anthropological study of his work because it has so many layers.
Dave Goelz on “The Muppet Movie”
It was a very healing place to work because it enabled you to work out your own feelings. All artists speak for us, and that applies to any kind of art, whether it’s dance or painting, anything. These people are out there saying things that they are compelled to say, working out their own issues through their own material. We all have issues that are universal, so when we recognize—even unconsciously—our own issues being expressed by an artist, we find ourselves a little purged, a little relieved that our issue has gotten out there, and a lot of times, we’re not even aware of it. I think that’s what’s going on. It’s certainly what was going on for me when I was doing the work. It was allowing me the chance to express my issues, and I think that resonates with the audience in our case because there is an underpinning of philosophy in our work. People respond to it often without knowing why.
Paul Hirsch on “Planes, Trains and Automobiles”
Del’s one line about his wife turned out to be all the audience needed, and then we cut to Neal bringing him home for Thanksgiving dinner. It was much better for Candy’s character, because he wasn’t throwing himself in front of Steve and begging for kindness. He maintained his dignity. And it was better for Steve’s character because he had enough empathy to figure out what was going on and put it together on his own without having to be told. So it was a case of desperation producing inspiration, and that was what came out of it, but it was in no way planned originally.
Everywhere we screened the film, the audiences started crying during the end scene. A lot of the movie is very freewheeling and from the hip, but in the case of this scene, everything had to be precise—the look, the feel, the eyeline, the slow motion were all very conscious decisions. It would be really wonderful if making movies could be like that all the time, where you aim for a particular vision and actually end up with it. It’s so rare.
Julie Andrews on “Julie’s Greenroom”
Long before Henson came along, I had been considering doing children’s programming and thinking about what would grab them. I didn’t think quite as big as Henson did, but I thought that making a Saturday morning special, maybe with my friend Carol Burnett or someone like Lucille Ball would be so interesting. Then, of course, Henson came along and literally beat me to the finish line because he was so prepared and ready. It was wonderful that he just took the ball and ran with it. From then on, it was literally all about him, as it should’ve been. He was an adorable man. I remember him being very tall and looking sort of like if Lincoln had dressed in a western costume of some kind.
Paul wrote in the script that Claudia looks at the camera and smiles at the end. For me, that was the most difficult scene, because how do you go from abject hopelessness to hope? But I really think the underlying theme of Paul’s films, which is so beautiful, is love. There’s the notion that each moment of love provides a possibility of hope. Even in “There Will Be Blood,” after Daniel Plainview has “drank the milkshake,” and says, “I’m finished!”, there’s something so beautiful about him sitting there in the midst of destruction. He realizes that he can’t get more in blood than he is now, and to me, he has a moment of acceptance. Maybe there’s hope for him, now that he’s finally woken up.
Barry Gifford on “Roy’s World: Barry Gifford’s Chicago”
When it comes to the issue of race, I’m not just looking for a peg to hang my hat on. I am informed on a visceral level. It doesn’t come from nothing and I realize the importance of it, but the key thing as a writer is to make it flow and have it be part of the flow as a natural event. I don’t feel like I have to beat up the reader to get to them. It’s all just part of the structure and story, and that’s what I’m after. That’s what Rob Christopher realized. At the end, he allows me to state the essence of my philosophy and politics, and it’s best encapsulated by Chekhov’s dictum, “I believe in individuals.” That’s my religion.
Rebekah Del Rio on “Mulholland Dr.”
David’s genius is in knowing intuitively, as you said, what will work together, and I feel that the TV shows we watch today are very much influenced by what David did with “Twin Peaks.” David was making cinematic television, and he started that trend. I’m also not just grateful but proud and really honored to have been the Latina in the pivotal moment of such an iconic film. Having me singing with one of the film’s stars, Laura Harring, who is also a Latina, in the audience was this marriage of the demographic that everybody wants to tap into right now. David maybe wasn’t even aware of it, but he was intuitively doing it back in the ’90s. It was ’97 when I went to go sing for him, and it was Brian Loucks who said, “You’ve got to listen to this girl—this is the girl.”
Mary Sweeney on “Lost Highway”
That scene is a perfect example of what occurs when you give an audience a silence. It ends in a wide shot from across the bar on the characters’ backs, and they didn’t let it run long enough. I could’ve easily stayed on that shot for another five or ten seconds. That is such a moving scene, and when you do something abstract or withhold certain information—in this case, keeping the camera on the actors’ backs and not showing their faces, thereby letting the audience sit like these two guys are sitting and contemplating—you will, as a spectator, fill in what the meaning of that is from your own emotional landscape. Those are the films that you can’t stop thinking about in the morning.
Lily McInerny on “Palm Trees and Power Lines”
The truth is, this is why I do it. I feel like it is an enormous privilege to be able to represent these stories. To compromise my comfort for a moment in time for the sake of storytelling is nothing at all like the lived experience of people actually going through these situations. I think actors are incredible, but I don’t think of it as anything as remarkable as surviving in real life.
Abby Ryder Fortson on “Are You There God? It’s Me, Margaret.”
I would love to do another project like “Margaret,” something that is really meaningful and has a special connection to a lot of people. I’m always interested in stories that are relatable, humanistic and that people can benefit from seeing. That’s what storytelling is all about. It lets people have a little escape or reassures them that they’re not alone or provides them with a little fun at the theater or at home after they’ve had a bad day. I really want to do more projects like that. I would also love to try out directing or writing. I’m writing a bit myself, and there are lots of books that I would love to adapt as well as other projects that I would love to be involved in as well.
In late 2004, Altman directed a stage adaptation of his 1978 film, "A Wedding," at Chicago’s Lyric Opera. Ebert recalls this in his Great Movies article: "[Altman] knew his time was limited. ‘Where the years have gone, I don’t know,’ he told me backstage that day at the Lyric. ‘But they’re gone. I used to look for a decade. Now I look for a couple more years.’ He got them." So did Ebert. The final act of his extraordinary life was an inspiration to all who witnessed it. His refusal to be lionized as an airbrushed icon was the reason why his readers grew so close to him. He hated phoniness as much as Altman did, and allowed people to see the reality of his illness because he wanted to universalize it, removing its societally imposed stigma. That’s what Ebert believed great art could do, and that’s precisely what Steve James’ documentary does so indelibly.
All Are Welcome: Religion at the Movies
Shunning all that is deemed satanic while interpreting illness as a punishment from God, Maria takes it upon herself to “heal” her mute brother. When the girl tries opening up about the minefield of fear and guilt set by her mother (Franziska Weisz) at home, the pastor reminds her of the commandment ordering her to honor her parents. A particularly heartbreaking subplot involves a boy at school who could prove to be a good influence on her, had she not rejected him along with the transcendent beauty of her surroundings. The film warrants comparison with “Breaking the Waves” and “The White Ribbon” in its depiction of how fundamentalism, when taken to its fanatical extremes, is ultimately an embracement of death fueled by the denial of life’s complexities. None of the characters are demonized, not even the mother, who is every bit as tragic a figure.
A Trip Through Film History with Norman Lloyd
As the hospital administrator, Auschlander’s agnostic intellectualism could have merely come off as stuffy, but Lloyd brought an energetic life to the character that made him irresistible. He even got to display his comedic chops in an especially wonderful episode where Auschlander experiments with medical marijuana and ends up causing a scene in a convenience store, exclaiming to a befuddled police officer, “Wait till you get a taste of this beef jerky!” Yet it’s his first scene on “St. Elsewhere” that is surely the most prophetic. A group of doctors (including a young Denzel Washington) are surprised to see Auschlander, who was recently diagnosed with cancer, climbing the stairs to “keep in shape” rather than taking the elevator. Dr. Westphall (the late Ed Flanders) looks at his colleague wistfully before replying, “Knowing him, he’ll probably outlive us all.”
A Special Case of Everyday Life: Philip Glass Attends “Mishima” Screening at University of Chicago
The term “powaqqatsi” means “life in transition,” and that is precisely what is occurring to Truman’s perspective in this scene, as it shifts from a sense of relative comfort to extreme paranoia. Glass’s celebrated use of “repeated motifs woven into ever-changing textures,” as defined by University of Chicago professor Berthold Hoeckner, mirrors the circular trajectory of Truman’s life, which has been trapped within a revolving door of ideological conformity. There’s also an industrial timbre to the music, originally meant to echo Reggio’s footage of the technological growth in developing nations, that here suggests the presence of a great machine designed to hit its precise marks, while blocking Truman’s path toward enlightenment.
Inclusion Rider: Backstage at the 90th Academy Awards
One of the benefits of being in the press room at the Oscars is that you get the chance to hear each of the winners discuss with more depth and detail the issues raised during their speeches, and McDormand’s favored term of “inclusion rider” was one of them. “I just found out about this last week,” McDormand said backstage. “For anybody that does a negotiation on a film, there is an inclusion rider, which means you can ask for and/or demand at least fifty percent diversity, not only in the casting but also the crew, and so the fact that I just learned that after 35 years of being in the film business—we’re not going back.” She shot down the notion that women and African-Americans are merely “trending” in the industry, and felt that “Moonlight” winning Best Picture the previous year was the first sign that change was on the imminent horizon.
RIFF 2018: Iceland, “Donbass” and Swimming with “The Fifth Element”
Many Icelandic locations were utilized for “The Fifth Element,” including the country’s largest ice cap, Vatnajökull, another potential reason why the film was selected for this year’s installment of the festival’s annual Swim-in-Cinema event. Besson would’ve undoubtedly been pleased with the screening, especially since he had originally intended on being a marine biologist (both of his parents were scuba diving instructors). Among the benefits of watching movies in a location this freeing is it gives audiences the opportunity to react not just with their guffaws and clapping hands, but with their entire bodies. Bad films will cause participants to amble distractedly around the water within minutes, so it’s a testament to “The Fifth Element”’s ageless appeal that for the entirety of its two-hour-plus running time, it left the crowded pool of moviegoers transfixed with delight.
Born This Way: Why 1954’s “A Star is Born” is Still the Best
Cukor’s version of “A Star is Born” still proves impossible to equal primarily because of Garland herself, whose performance is one of the greatest ever committed to celluloid. Whereas the 1976 and 2018 remakes culminate in a cathartic musical number, this film offers no such release, making the sense of loss all the more palpable. Aside from her refrain of “It’s a New World,” sung off-camera, Vicki Lester’s last song in the film takes place at the top of the final act: Harold Arlen and Ira Gershwin’s “Lose That Long Face.” It’s an exuberantly high-spirited number, with Garland performing in a hairdo resembling that of her daughter, Liza Minnelli, in later years. When the director yells cut, Lester retreats to her makeup trailer and delivers a searing monologue unmatched by any sequence in every other iteration of the story.
Netflix’s “The Dark Crystal: Age of Resistance” Ranks Among the All-Time Great Fantasy Epics
The ending of Kermit and the gang’s first big screen vehicle, James Frawley’s 1979 euphoric landmark, “The Muppet Movie,” is no less profound or open to interpretation as the end of Henson’s “Dark Crystal.” For me, both sequences stand as enduring symbols of diverse beings sharing in the realization of their oneness, as illuminated by a beacon of clarity, whether it be a rainbow or the radiance of three suns. The eye, which Brian Froud considers the focal point of any character, emerges as a crucial motif in Henson’s film, culminating with Thra’s suns aligned to resemble Aughra’s own optical (and detachable) organ, as it peers down into the Crystal of Truth, bringing to light the very essence that binds all living creatures, while affirming that good and evil are two sides of the same coin.
Defying Gravity: Dante Basco, Caroline Goodall, James V. Hart, Charlie Korsmo and More on the Thirtieth Anniversary of “Hook”
It was only recently that I realized Malet had played the son of Mr. Dawes (Dick Van Dyke) in “Mary Poppins,” who cries, “Father, come down!”, as his dad flies into the air when overtaken by a bout of laughter. Tootles does the same thing when Peter surprises him with his lost bag of marbles at the end of “Hook,” thus creating an homage that ingeniously connects the similar character arcs of George Banks—the stuffy father in “Poppins”—and Peter Banning. Neither James nor Jake were aware of this connection when I mentioned it to them (“I cannot tell you how happy I am to know that this is the reality we live in,” Jake gushed upon hearing it), while Goodall agrees that this could not have been a coincidence.
The Perfection of the Human Soul: The Cast of “Groundhog Day” Celebrates Harold Ramis
Like “A Christmas Carol” or “It’s a Wonderful Life,” “Groundhog Day” is a film we annually return to in order to reaffirm our purpose in life. I suppose it was inevitable that Rebecca, the woman I fell in love with, also turned out to be an avid fan of the film. In December of 2020, I proposed to her in the gazebo on the Woodstock Square where Bill Murray danced with Andie MacDowell, who plays Rita, the producer whom Phil desires to one day be worthy of, thus initially triggering his journey toward self-improvement. Rebecca and I were married in Woodstock in July of 2022, and spent our wedding night at the Cherry Tree Inn, where Phil slept. A disc of “Groundhog Day” is preemptively placed in each of the room’s DVD players, and I decided to have its final scene cued up so that I could surprise Rebecca with it when we awoke the following morning. “Do you know what today is?” Phil exclaims to Rita. “No what?” she asks, to which he replies, “Today is tomorrow. It happened.”
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]]>My late husband Roger Ebert noted potential in Harold Ramis from the moment he awarded four stars to the first film that the "SCTV" star co-wrote, 1978's hit comedy, "National Lampoon's Animal House." "The movie is vulgar, raunchy, ribald, and occasionally scatological," wrote Roger. "It is also the funniest comedy since Mel Brooks made 'The Producers' (1968). 'Animal House' is funny for some of the same reasons the National Lampoon is funny (and Second City and 'Saturday Night Live' are funny): Because it finds some kind of precarious balance between insanity and accuracy, between cheerfully wretched excess and an ability to reproduce the most revealing nuances of human behavior."
Ramis immediately went on to co-author other landmark comedies including 1980's "Caddyshack" (which marked his directorial debut) and Ivan Reitman's 1981 army satire, "Stripes," in which Ramis starred opposite Bill Murray. Of the latter film, Roger wrote, "For Harold Ramis, who plays Murray's grave-eyed, flat-voiced, terminally detached partner in 'Stripes,' this is a chance, at last, to come out from behind the camera. Ramis and Murray are both former Second City actors, but in Hollywood, Ramis has been typecast as a writer, maybe because he sometimes looks too goofy for Hollywood's unimaginative tastes. In 'Stripes,' Murray and Ramis make a wonderful team. Their big strength is restraint. Given the tendency of movies like this to degenerate into undisciplined slapstick, they wisely choose to play their characters as understated, laid-back anarchists. Murray enlists in the Army in a what-the-hell mood after his girlfriend throws him out, and Ramis enlists because one stupid gesture deserves another."
Three years later, actor Murray and actor/co-writer Ramis re-teamed with director Reitman for the biggest hit of their respective careers, 1984's "Ghostbusters," a horror comedy praised by Roger as "a head-on collision between two comic approaches that have rarely worked together very successfully. This time, they do. It's (1) a special-effects blockbuster, and (2) a sly dialogue movie, in which everybody talks to each other like smart graduate students who are in on the joke. [...] No matter what effects are being used, they're placed at the service of the actors; instead of feeling as if the characters have been carefully posed in front of special effects, we feel they're winging this adventure as they go along."
Yet it was Ramis' 1993 directorial effort, "Groundhog Day," which cast Bill Murray as a grouchy weatherman who finds himself stuck in a time loop, that gave the filmmaker the best reviews of his career. Though Roger initially awarded it an affectionate three stars, he later inducted the film into his Great Movies series in 2005, writing, "Certainly I underrated it in my original review; I enjoyed it so easily that I was seduced into cheerful moderation. But there are a few films, and this is one of them, that burrow into our memories and become reference points. When you find yourself needing the phrase This is like 'Groundhog Day' to explain how you feel, a movie has accomplished something."
Roger enjoyed other directorial efforts by Ramis including 1995's "Stuart Saves His Family," a vehicle for Al Franken's titular "Saturday Night Live" character, which the critic hailed as "a genuine surprise: A movie as funny as the 'SNL' stuff, and yet with convincing characters, a compelling story and a sunny, sweet sincerity shining down on the humor." Roger also favored Ramis' 1999 mob comedy, "Analyze This," which teamed Robert De Niro with Billy Crystal. He wrote that Ramis "is presented with all sorts of temptations, I suppose, to overplay the De Niro character and turn the movie into an 'Airplane!''-type satire of gangster movies. I think he finds the right path--allowing satire, referring to De Niro's screen past, and yet keeping the focus on the strange friendship between two men who speak entirely different languages." Of Ramis' somewhat more straight-faced 2005 crime film, "The Ice Harvest," Roger wrote, "it finds a balance between the goofy and the gruesome, as in a rather brilliant scene in which a mobster who is locked inside a trunk is nevertheless optimistic enough to shout out muffled death threats."
When Ramis passed away on February 24th, 2014, from autoimmune inflammatory vasculitis, our frequent contributor Peter Sobczynski penned a heartfelt tribute, writing, "What made the news of Ramis' death such a gut-punch, at least from my own personal perspective, was that it meant the loss of not just a great filmmaker but a great Chicagoan as well. After spending time in Hollywood, he moved back to the city with his family. He was a familiar and friendly face on the local entertainment scene who always seemed willing to lend a hand when needed. Over the years, I had the privilege of talking to him several times. He was never anything less than warm, gracious, self-effacing, intelligent, and seemingly without a bone to pick with anyone."
The following year, I invited the late director's widow, Erica Mann Ramis, and "Groundhog Day" producer Trevor Albert to Ebertfest for a special Q&A and screening of clips that honored the comedy icon's life and career. In my open letter penned to Roger, who passed away in 2013, I wrote, "Displayed at Harold's funeral was a violin that he had made by hand and taught himself to play. It was on a table. But Harold had to first teach himself to build the table in order to have a surface on which to construct the violin. That's the kind of man Harold was. [...] One of the last conversations you and Harold had was about the transcendent nature of Charlie Kaufman's movie 'Synecdoche, New York.' You both saw a higher meaning in every frame."
This past Groundhog Day in Chicago, Erica joined Bill Murray and other members of the "Groundhog Day" cast to honor Harold's life at Harry Caray's Tavern on Navy Pier. RogerEbert.com Literary Editor Matt Fagerholm spoke with many of the participating actors beforehand, including Stephen Tobolowsky, who stole all of his scenes as the uproariously irritating insurance salesman Ned Ryerson. "I was still feeling very self-conscious about the size of my performance," said Tobolowsky. "So in between takes, I sit down next to Harold and ask, 'Am I too broad? Am I being too big with this?' Harold starts laughing, and he says to me, 'Stephen, let me tell you something about comedy. In Jewish comedy, there is the schlemiel and schlimazel. The schlemiel is the guy who always spills soup, the schlimazel is the guy who always gets soup spilled on him. That is the form of comedy universally. In this, you are the schlemiel. You could do anything you want, as big as you want. Bill is the schlimazel, he has to be the world. You are the aberrant force.'"
At the celebration of Harold this month, in which February 2nd was officially declared Harold Ramis Day in Chicago, Murray said, "I think it's great that we're here, and it was nice of Harold to make us a nice, mild day today. He's up there stirring the clouds around and making that low pressure move out over to Indiana. It's a beautiful city and I got to know Harold through my brother Brian Doyle-Murray. They took care of me and let me hide out in Old Town when I was just a troublemaker from the North Shore. I learned a lot of from those guys—from Brian, Harold, Joe Flaherty, Eugene Levy, Russ Little—those guys were wonderful and very kind to me, and it's the kindness of those people that really made it possible for me to avoid the penitentiary and have some sort of a life. [...] Your job as an actor is to take what you're given and make it better, and we all got to do that because Harold made it possible."
When Erica took to the mic, she shared a letter sent to her from former president Barack Obama that read, "To everyone gathered to celebrate Harold Ramis and 'Groundhog Day,' as a Chicagoan and a fan of great movies, I am so glad that this is how you have chosen to celebrate Harold Ramis Day. Harold's movies make us laugh, but they also do more than that. They encourage us to root for the underdog, to identify with the outsider and to remember that we are always capable of changing for the better. So enjoy the festivities, that's what Harold would've wanted, and who knows? Maybe you'll wake up tomorrow and get to do it all over again."
]]>Domingo nailed Rustin's vaguely mid-Atlantic accent, his ferocious drive and aching vulnerability. When he finds himself overcome with emotion at a key moment in the film, I found my tears flowing along with his own. His performance was hands down my favorite of 2023, and he will receive the Best Actor Award at the 15th annual African American Film Critics Association (AAFCA) Awards this Wednesday, February 21st, at the Beverly Wilshire (you can find the full list of this year's AAFCA Award recipients here).
I remember Bayard Rustin. He was sometimes in television news clips, but I recall him most often in Ebony or Jet magazine, his hair combed upwards as if he was a force against the wind. He was a learned intellectual and Domingo brings to life his quick wit and organized strategic thinking. I was impressed by Rustin's obvious intelligence and his passion for justice. Domingo's performance captured the essence of Bayard's soul with such arresting beauty and nuance that it left me floored. Rustin was the architect of 1963’s momentous March on Washington, but was largely overlooked because the organizations feared that his sexuality would be held against the movement. Sadly, it was not just a thought, as homosexual acts were still considered illegal in some jurisdictions at that time.
The film, directed by DGA Award and five-time Tony Award winner George C. Wolfe, shines a long overdue spotlight on the extraordinary man who, alongside giants like the Reverend Martin Luther King Jr., Adam Clayton Powell Jr., and Ella Baker inspired a movement in a march toward freedom. Produced by Academy Award winner Bruce Cohen, Higher Ground’s Tonia Davis and George C. Wolfe, the Netflix film features an all-star cast including Chris Rock, Glynn Turman, Aml Ameen, Gus Halper, CCH Pounder, Da’Vine Joy Randolph, Johnny Ramey, Michael Potts, with Jeffrey Wright and Audra McDonald.
In addition to the AAFCA Award, Domingo's performance in "Rustin" has earned him Academy Award, Screen Actors Guild, BAFTA, Critics Choice and Golden Globe nominations for Best Actor. Domingo's portrayal gives the film's titular Black organizer his rightful place in history.
For three decades, Colman Domingo has worked in film, television, and theater. He was nominated for an Independent Spirit Award and SAG Ensemble Award for "Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom" and a second Spirit Award and Gotham Award for his work in "Zola". He won the 2022 Emmy Award, an Image and HCA Television Award for his performance as Ali in the critically acclaimed "Euphoria." On stage, Domingo has been nominated for two Tony® awards as well as an Olivier Award. He has also been recognized for his work as a playwright ("A Boy and His Soul") and producer. Domingo co-wrote, produced, and starred in the Academy Award shortlisted animated short film “New Moon” and executive produced and starred in the short film “North Star.” He was also seen last year in the musical adaptation of "The Color Purple," where once again, he gave a strong memorable performance.
For more information on AAFCA and its programs, visit AAFCA.com.
]]>The Spirit Awards, hosted by Film Independent, will take place Sunday, February 25, and once again will be held under a tent on the beach in Santa Monica. The organization is helmed by its President, Josh Welsh, and Brenda Robinson, the Chair of the board of directors. I was pleased to be appointed recently to the Advisory Board of this dynamic nonprofit arts organization—along with Kasi Lemmons ("Eve's Bayou") and Lulu Wang ("The Farewell")—and it jogged my memory to some years back when the role of independent film had a much more difficult path. This year's Best Picture nominees at the Spirit Awards include Andrew Haigh's "All of Us Strangers," Cord Jefferson's "American Fiction," Todd Haynes' "May December," Ira Sachs' "Passages," Celine Song's "Past Lives" and Minhal Baig's "We Grown Now."
The ten nominees for the award ceremony's gender-neutral Best Lead Performance category include Jessica Chastain ("Memory"), Greta Lee ("Past Lives"), Trace Lysette ("Monica"), Natalie Portman ("May December"), Judy Reyes ("Birth/Rebirth"), Franz Rogowski ("Passages"), Andrew Scott ("All of Us Strangers"), Teyana Taylor ("A Thousand and One"), Jeffrey Wright ("American Fiction") and Teo Yoo ("Past Lives"). "Saturday Night Live" star Aidy Bryant will MC the awards ceremony, following in the footsteps of such talents as Buck Henry, Nick Kroll, Queen Latifah, John Mulaney, Patton Oswalt, Aubrey Plaza, Sarah Silverman and John Waters. For the complete list of this year's Spirit Award nominees, click here.
Independent film is its own animal now and the industry is all the better for it. But it wasn't always like that. I remember back to last century (the early 1990's) when my late husband Roger Ebert got in trouble with ABC for being the Master of Ceremonies at what was then called the Independent Spirit Awards. At that time, the tent was smaller, there were fewer tables of celebrities and sponsors, and the films were not the same ones vying for an Oscar, as happens more regularly these days.
Their awards show, although energetic and vital, was more like the "little engine that could" and although it was held on Saturday, the day before the Oscars, it was broadcast on Sunday, the same day as the Oscars. At the same time! But only during the times that the Oscars were on commercial breaks! ABC thought this was sacrilegious. They paid a lot of money for those commercials and they didn't want any viewer to turn away to watch a show on the beach on a rival cable channel. Roger was called on the carpet and stood his ground defending his association with the organization.
At the same time, Roger also occupied an official position at the head of the Oscars red carpet interviewing guests as they arrived. He said while he tried to keep the banter about the movies, occasionally one of his co-hosts would have to interject "And who are you wearing." So viewers could watch the Oscar pre-show, stay tuned for the Oscars, and then some would turn away to watch the Indie Spirits show when the Oscars took a commercial break. Not ideal, and not one that made for a chummy association. After some tumult, that changed.
Fortunately, the little engine that could kept chugging right along. It is now a very important part of the filmmaking landscape in California, supporting a diverse group of filmmakers and hosting one of the most fun and celebrated awards shows around. And now the date of the show is not tied to the occurrence of the Oscars. They will showcase their talent next Sunday, and the Oscars will be telecast on March 17.
Film Independent and the Spirit Awards have grown and evolved because they have remained steadfast in their mission of true transformation and representation of stories inclusive of diverse filmmakers. Supporting a global community of artists and audiences, Film Independent has year-round programs including Project Involve, a free nine-month intensive program offering up-and-coming film professionals from under-represented communities the opportunity to hone their skills and gain industry access. Past mentors who have participated in the Project Involve program include Nina Yang Bongiovi ("Fruitvale Station," "Dope"), Ava DuVernay ("Selma," "Origin"), Catherine Hardwicke ("Thirteen," "Twilight"), Derek Cianfrance ("Blue Valentine," "The Place Beyond the Pines"), Destin Daniel Cretton ("Short Term 12"), Dan Gilroy ("Nightcrawler," "The Bourne Legacy") and Alexander Payne ("Sideways," "The Holdovers").
Roger and I made a decision to provide grants to help Film Independent carry out its mission. Some of the filmmakers supported under the Roger and Chaz Ebert Fellowships have been such bright luminaries as Stephanie Adams-Santos, Sue-Ellen Chitunya, Christina Choe, Jomo Fray, Melissa Haizlip and Lulu Wang.
While speaking with RogerEbert.com in 2019, filmmaker Gregory Nava reflected on the origins of Film Independent, which stemmed from Sandra Schulberg's founding of the Independent Feature Project in 1979. "Sandra gathered all these 'lone rangers' who were off making their own movies, and she brought us all together," said Nava. "We had no resources, no funding, nothing, but the idea of getting together and sharing our experiences created an energy that made things happen. I took the idea of the IFP to Los Angeles and along with Anna Thomas, I started the IFP West, which is now Film Independent, the group that puts on the Independent Spirit Awards. It began as a group of six people in our living room, and now it’s got around 7,000 members. All of these efforts originated from a simple idea of elevating the voices of people who needed to have their stories told."
Gregory Nava continued: "The independent film movement began before Robert Redford got involved, and was characterized by pictures like Wayne Wang’s 'Chan is Missing,' Joan Micklin Silver’s 'Hester Street' and Claudia Weill’s 'Girlfriend,' in addition to his film, 'El Norte' and Spike Lee's 'She’s Gotta Have It.' John Sayles came out of that movement as well, and was later followed by people like Quentin Tarantino and Robert Rodriguez."
Film Independent’s current advisory board is comprised of film industry executives, creatives and thought leaders who function as a sounding board for the board of directors and executive leadership. The current advisory board members who Lemmons, Wang and I will be joining are Ed Carroll, Don Cheadle, Bill Condon, Peter Rice, Ted Sarandos and Forest Whitaker.
Film Independent additionally announced the election of Dan Stern, the CEO and founder of Reservoir Capital Group, to its Board of Directors. Stern is also the Chairman of the Board of Film at Lincoln Center. The rest of the board of directors is comprised of Len Amato, Randy Barbato, Adriene Bowles, Mathew Cullen, Vondie Curtis Hall, Eric d’Arbeloff, Rhys Ernst, Javier Fuentes-León, Brenda Gilbert, Matthew Greenfield, Michael Helfant, Laura Kim, Sue Kroll, Karyn Kusama, David Linde, Mynette Louie, Alix Madigan-Yorkin, Ted Mundorff, Gail Mutrux, Sue Naegle, Col Needham, Catherine Park, Alan Poul, Ed Rada, Andrea Sperling, Cathy Schulman and Jeffrey Soros.
The 2024 Film Independent Spirit Awards will take place at 2pm PT on Sunday, February 25th, in Santa Monica and will stream live on Film Independent’s YouTube channel and IMDB.com.
To learn more about all the wonderful programs and services provided by Film Independent, visit their official site.
]]>Winter finally arrived in Chicago recently, and instead of watching the meteorologists tell us how many inches of thunder snow we would get, I decided to partake in one of my favorite activities, going to the movies. I am fortunate to see lots of films in advance because of my line of work. However, from time to time, like the average movie-goer, I delight in looking at the listings to choose a movie. Should I go see "Origin," once again, the brilliant new film by Ava DuVernay (read Robert Daniels' four-star review here), or should I wait until the newspaper is delivered to see what else is playing? It was too early in the morning for my newspaper (yes, I still subscribe to newspapers and love reading them while turning the pages), so I went online to see the listings at my local theater.
Two movies caught my eye and they were listed as being shown back-to-back: "The Book of Clarence," at 10am, and "Freud's Last Session" at Noon. What luck! That's the best, when you can see one movie, leave for a bathroom break, and then go right into the next one. I hadn't heard much about these two films, so I didn't tag them with nicknames like Barbenheimer, mimicking the blockbuster showing of "Barbie" and "Oppenheimer," but that didn't stop me from wondering if I did, whether the name would be Clarence/Freud or Clarenfreud. I decided on Clarenfreud.
However, when I went to buy the tickets, this notice came up: "Theater closed due to snowstorm." I panicked. My carefully planned day was falling apart and I hadn't even left the bed. I called the theater, but it was too early, and no one answered. There was a voicemail. I felt a bit of hope when their announcement didn't repeat the notice about the theater closing. I decided to do my morning meditations and routine and call closer to the time of the start of the film.
Success! After my morning routine, I called again and got a real human being! He told me the notice was wrong, the theater would be open that day. I rejoiced. However, because the online notice was giving them some problem, I had to buy the tickets when I got to the theater. I dressed and braved the weather. Parking was inside of a heated garage, so no problem there. In fact, driving along Lake Shore Drive in Chicago was beautiful. Slivers of light were peeping through the snow clouds, painting the landscape a palette of artist greys. I love Chicago's skyline, and even appreciate it in the winter.
When I got to the theater, I was about the third person in line. That almost never happens, usually the line is a lot longer. I bought both tickets at once. Theaters are smarter now about not telegraphing the names and the starting times of the films on the individual marquees above the door. In order to get that information, you have to buy a ticket. And that is only fair. It is a business, after all. No more buying one ticket and then sneaking into a second movie afterwards without buying a second ticket.
Someone asked me whether having a website that reviews movies interferes with my enjoyment of them. No, for instance, even knowing that our film critic hadn't given "The Book of Clarence" a very high rating, I knew I wanted to see it for several reasons. First, Lakeith Stanfield is the leading man. I always enjoy his performances, but I wanted to see if he could carry the whole film. (Yes, he can.) Also, when I was in Quarzazat, a city near Morocco, I fantasized about making a biblical-style epic with a primarily Black cast, a la "Hamilton." And judging from the trailer, that is what this would be. Plus the cast was filled with names I liked in other movies or series like Alfre Woodard, Omar Sy, David Oyelowo, Anna Diop and even new actors like Teyana Taylor, who I became aware of from her exceptional performance in the indie film "A Thousand and One." There are many reasons to see a film, even if your expectations aren't very high.
I wanted to see "Freud's Last Session" because it starred Anthony Hopkins, one of cinema's finest actors who usually finds some interesting hook with which to imbue his characters. So Clarenfreud, it was. Before telling you what each movie was about, I won't hold you in suspense. I thoroughly enjoyed both films! And interestingly enough, the underlying theme of both films happened to be a discussion about whether there is a God. That was just a bit of serendipity or synchronicity, and it was completely unexpected.
"The Book of Clarence" marks the sophomore feature of writer/director Jeymes Samuel, who made his feature debut with 2021's all-star western, "The Harder They Fall." The role of Clarence is played by Lakeith Stanfield, who attended Ebertfest in 2014 with Brie Larson for a screening of their breakout film, "Short Term 12." Since then, he's had memorable roles in such acclaimed pictures as "Selma," "Get Out," "Sorry to Bother You" and "Judas and the Black Messiah," for which he received a Best Actor Oscar nomination.
In Samuel's new film, Stanfield plays Clarence, a man in Biblical times who doesn't believe in Jesus as a divine being. Clarence is a two-bit petty crook who thinks that Jesus is a fraud who somehow gets people to give him money by performing magic dressed up as miracles. When Clarence and his side-kick, Elijah (RJ Cyler) become indebted to a money lender, Clarence concocts a scheme to get money by claiming to be a Black Messiah himself.
Even as Clarence is performing his trickery we see that he isn't all bad, for instance, he is good to his mother Amina (Marianne Jean-Baptiste). He stayed behind to take care of her when his supposedly religious twin brother, Thomas, did not. (Stanfield plays both roles.) He is also in love with the money lender's sister, Varinia (Anna Diop). This movie starts off as a parody and you think it is going to be laughs all the way through, but as Clarence evolves in his convictions and beliefs, so does the film.
I have seen criticisms of the uneven tone of the film, but that didn't bother me. I rather enjoyed the metamorphosis. Is there a God? Can Jesus walk on water? Can a person really exist who only wants good for other people? Can we really love another person unconditionally? Can a two-bit petty crook put aside thoughts of what's in it for him for thoughts of the greater good? Can a person really change? I would like to talk to the director about how and when he decided that the film would grapple with some of these issues, but whether you think the film shows this successfully or not, Stanfield rises to the occasion. And watching him as he grows in his moral convictions is a beautiful sight to see.
"Freud's Last Session" is the third feature by writer/director Matt Brown, and like his sophomore effort, the 2015 biopic "The Man Who Knew Infinity," it takes the form of a provocative two-hander between real-life individuals. Based on the play by Mark St. Germain, the film stars two-time Oscar-winner Anthony Hopkins ("The Silence of the Lambs," "The Father") as Sigmund Freud, who invites "Chronicles of Narnia" author C.S. Lewis (played by Emmy nominee Matthew Goode) to have a spirited debate with him about the existence of God.
The meeting of Freud and Lewis in the film takes place in September of 1939, amidst the backdrop of the beginning of World War II. Freud spent his life in Vienna, Austria, where he is credited with being the founding father of psychoanalysis. He fled Austria in 1938 with his wife Martha, and his daughter Anna, for the United Kingdom after Austria was annexed by Nazi Germany. By that time Freud was suffering from an inoperable mouth cancer stemming from his cigar addiction. He died September 23, 1939.
The director Matthew Brown's father was a psychiatrist who often spoke with him about Freud. (See Nell Minow's fascinating interview of Brown.) In real life, we know only that Freud met with a don or university teacher from Oxford or Cambridge at some point close to the time of his death, but we don't know if it was indeed C.S. Lewis. In the film, Freud is intrigued by Lewis' conversion from an agnostic/atheist to a man of faith, and being close to death himself, he wants to explore whether he has missed a piece of evidence that could help his atheism. He has read Lewis' writings and they inquire into each other's beliefs about the existence of a Supreme Being. This two-hander reminds me of the seminal conversationalist movie "My Dinner With Andre," where we were mesmerized by Wallace Shawn's discussion with Andre Gregory. Roger called it enchanting. And there is indeed a seductive allure listening in on the conversation of two smart people who have let their guards down.
As I sat in "Freud," watching the ping-ponging conversation between Anthony Hopkins and Matthew Goode as Freud and Lewis, I was struck by how such a profound topic, the existence of God, could be so provocatively explored in such diverse ways with this unconventional yet surprisingly fitting double bill. On the subject of science versus God Brown in his interview with Minow says: "There's a quote from Einstein that says science without religion is lame and religion without science is blind." I don't know what I think about the topic, but I highly recommend that moviegoers seek out these two movies ("The Book of Clarence" and "Freud's Last Session") either in theaters or as they are made available for your home viewing. They are both entertaining.
]]>The Alliance for Downtown Manhattan has open submissions for their Filmmaker in Chief creative residency to produce, direct and edit a short film in New York City’s Lower Manhattan neighborhood. One filmmaker will win up to $50,000, plus two months in a paid luxury Mint House apartment and two months’ stipend to produce, direct and edit a short film in New York City’s Lower Manhattan neighborhood.
The winner will have full creative license to create a film that falls within a PG-13 rating, and any genre and style is welcome. The short film must feature Lower Manhattan, whether as a backdrop for a dramatic short, the subject of a documentary or simply a visible source of inspiration. Contestants must submit a film treatment that highlights how Lower Manhattan will be featured, plus make a one-minute video explaining why their film idea is the best pick. This should not be a promotional video for the neighborhood, but simply a film that features Lower Manhattan nicely within its story.
Lower Manhattan has inspired filmmakers for generations. The neighborhood’s one square mile is filled with dramatic streetscapes, steeped in rich history — a unique set of inspirations for filmmakers on shows like on HBO’s “Succession,” Spike Lee’s “Inside Man,” Martin Scorsese’s “The Wolf of Wall Street” and the classic 1949 musical, “On the Town.”
Submissions are due at filmdowntown.nyc by Friday, February 16 at 11:59pm ET. Five finalists will be selected to have their treatments and videos evaluated by a jury of Lower Manhattan culture and film titans. One winner will be selected, and be notified by the Alliance around Tuesday, March 5th.
You can find more on the Filmmaker in Chief creative residency — including fine print, FAQs, submission requirements and more — here. Submit here
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