The tendency in people is to look for a lesson, a theme, some kind
of connecting thread to give all the chaos around us meaning and purpose. We
invent religions and other systems of belief to cope. We study far-off stars
and earth-bound microbes in search of answers. We talk, hopefully, with each
other – as opposed to at each other, over each other, or not at all – creating
communities to guide us, comfort us, and protect us. There must be some reason,
we think, we wonder, we hope, and in the face of great uncertainty, we press
on.
All of this is to say 2017 did not make much sense. At times,
navigating the past 12 months felt like creeping through a dimly lit corridor,
grasping at shadows instead of the light. I won’t get too political here –
there will be plenty of time for that later – except to say it was a bad year
and logic suggests this will be even worse.
Last Cinema Standing began as a way to start a conversation about
films, to relate them to people’s lives, and to foster a deeper appreciation
for what the movies can teach us about ourselves and each other. In the face of
the world as it is, it is fair to ask if that mission still has meaning. I
submit it means more now than ever before. I am fond of quoting Roger Ebert and
in particular his calling the cinema “a machine that generates empathy.” In
this new world, I cannot think of a greater need than such a machine.
So we press on. Where life does not provide a lesson, a theme, or
a thread, perhaps the year in film will offer one. Beyond that, however, the
Year in Review gives us a chance to reflect on and celebrate a bounty of
wonderful movies and experiences. It is about the moments, the quotes, the
performances, and the films that will stick with us as the calendar pages flip.
Last Cinema Standing will spend the next week diving into all of that and more,
but first, I wanted to share a few highlights from a year in moviegoing.
Writer-director Julia Ducournau’s Raw screened as part of the Film Society’s New Directors, New Films
Festival, and it was a treat, indeed. Ducournau and star Garance Marillier
stayed for a fabulous question-and-answer session afterward, during which a
woman in the audience stood and angrily confronted the director. She wondered
why such a film even needs to exist then stormed out of the theater. Ducournau
merely smirked and continued undeterred. There must be a perverse pleasure in
making a film that upsets someone to such a degree but nevertheless compels her
to sit through the whole thing.
In April, the
QUAD Cinema, one of those great old New York City art-house theaters, after a
years-long renovation and change of hands, re-opened as a cinephile’s dream.
Apart from its wonderful selection of first-run films, the operators have
dedicated the QUAD to becoming the premier repertory theater in the city. As
part of that mission, the programmers present the First Encounters series, in
which notable figures in the film world choose films they have never seen,
watch them with an audience and react.
I was fortunate to attend the inaugural event, at which writer-director-actor
Greta Gerwig presented David Lynch’s Blue Velvet. A few days later,
John Turturro was on hand for a viewing of Satyajit Ray’s world cinema
masterwork Pather Panchali. To see a great or interesting film anew
through the eyes of one who has never seen it is among the true joys of cinema
– this is why we share our favorite movies with our friends – and to experience
that with professionals who are also endlessly knowledgeable and boundless in
the depth of their love for the form, well, that is just the icing on the cake.
In September, the Lincoln Center screened Spike Lee’s Crooklyn as the inaugural One Film, One
New York selection, an initiative to unite the city under the banner of a
single moviegoing experience. The film was shown for free around the city, and
Lee appeared at the Lincoln Center in Manhattan and the BAM Cinematek in
Brooklyn with New York Times film critic AO Scott to discuss his
quintessentially New York film. My fiancée and I waited three hours in the rain
to hear Mr. Lee’s thoughts, and he did not disappoint. Spike, as ever, was
Spike – equal parts prickly, confrontational, and humble, but always damn
right.
The following month came the New York Film Festival, where we
attended a screening of Sean Baker’s lovely ode to the resilience and spirit of
childhood, The Florida Project. Baker
was joined onstage afterward by his co-writer and the stars of the film,
including the 7-year-old scene-stealer Brooklynn Prince, who if she so chooses
could feature in everything from now until the sun burns out and that would be
just fine.
Eight years ago, I called Carter Burwell the best composer working
in Hollywood, an opinion that has not wavered. Last month, I got the chance to
tell him so when he was on hand for a screening of Todd Haynes’ Wonderstruck. Long stretches of the film
are carried only by music, and Burwell once again proves up to the task. In
discussion, he proved worthy of admiration not only for his talent but for his
kindness and generosity,
I could go on all day like this, and if you catch me in
conversation, there is always the chance I will, but let’s wrap it up with
this: In May, I attended the Film Society’s Chaplin Award Gala, where Robert De
Niro was honored for his contributions to the cinema. It was about this time
the current administration was elbow-deep in its attempts to defund the
National Endowment for the Arts, among other arts programs.
It was a wonderful evening, filled with humorous, heartfelt
speeches from folks like Meryl Streep, Ben Stiller, Michael Douglas, Whoopi
Goldberg, and Martin Scorsese, who ultimately presented De Niro with the award.
But the highlight surely was De Niro, who could not pass up the opportunity to
stand up and speak for artists and art everywhere in a speech that spoke to the
very core of why we were all there that night.
“Everyone knows Chaplin was a great
artist, but he made his movies to entertain. It was only later that they became
art,” De Niro said. “I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately because of our
government’s hostility towards art. The budget proposal, among its other
draconian cuts to life-saving and life-enhancing programs, eliminates the
National Endowment for the Arts, the National Endowment for the Humanities and
the Corporation for Public Broadcasting. For their own devices and political
purposes, the administration suggests that the money for these all-inclusive
program goes to the rich, liberal elite. This is what they now call an
alternative fact. I call it what it is — bullshit.”
Bullshit it was, and bullshit it remains. If there is a lesson, a
theme, or a meaning to be taken from the chaos of the past year, it is this: Art
will not be silenced, and each of the extraordinary writers, directors, and
performers contributing to the cinema is evidence of that fact. So we press on.
Welcome to
Last Cinema Standing’s 2017 Year in Review, in which we will look back at the
year that was cinema through the best moments, best quotes, best performances,
and best films of the past 12 months. Check back each day this week for a new
entry. Tomorrow: Top 10 Moments.
