The Film Society at Lincoln Center had its 50th Anniversary Gala on Monday night at Alice Tully Hall, and I was invited because of my involvement with writing for Film Comment (the house magazine of the Film Society, now re-named Film at Lincoln Center). The New York Film Festival is hosted by the Film Society every year, and as a festival it stands out (and has done so from the jump): it’s not a competition, there are no prizes, it’s not an industry-rush, it’s not about getting the next Shiny New Thing (as Sundance has become). It’s a festival showing films carefully chosen by the Film Society representing the best in international (and national) film. And so there’s an “art for art’s sake” feeling to the NYFF that is unmistakable. It’s an essential contribution to cinema – and NECESSARY, especially as “cinema” gets more and more corporatized, as superhero-franchises dominate the multiplexes, as smaller films vanish from the screen. I saw Melancholia at the NYFF. I saw Jafar Panahi’s This Is Not a Film at NYFF. I saw Asghar Farhadi’s A Separation at the NYFF. I am pleased to have even a small part in this organization, writing for a magazine Martin Scorsese called at the Gala “indispensable.”
The line-up of speakers all had personal connections with Film at Lincoln Center, and their speeches were broken up by a beautiful ongoing documentary about the history of the organization through the years, since its inception. Interviews with board members, with Kent Jones, with people I know from Film Comment.
Left to right: Michael Moore, John Waters, Tilda Swinton, Paul Dano, Zoe Kazan, Pedro Almodóvar, Dee Rees, and Martin Scorsese
John Waters gave the speech of the night which involved the words “and he took the pig … and then he fucked it …” First time for Alice Tully Hall? He opened his speech saying, “Thank you Film Society for 50 years of feel-bad films.” Hilarious, in the middle of a mostly reverent night. He spoke in a sarcastic voice, and yet his long-running relationship with Film Society – both as a filmmaker and sometimes curator – shone through. He looked fabulous, too.
Tilda Swinton’s speech was incredible, all about beacons and lighthouses, and darkness and light. Her wording was so specific and unexpected (she’s an amazing writer). Small dovetail: I wrote about Joanna Hogg’s new film The Souvenir for the May-June issue of Film Comment (out today). The film stars Honor Swinton Byrne (Tilda Swinton’s daughter), and Tilda is also in it. Joanna Hogg and Tilda Swinton started out together in the mid-80s (Tilda starred Caprice, Hogg’s thesis film for grad school in 1986.) So I had a couple of weird wonderful moments of feeling a PART of this whole thing – not just a spectator at the Gala.
Paul Dano and Zoe Kazan, whose beautiful film Wild Life played at NYFF, spoke together, about their history with the place. I loved Kazan’s memory of her childhood, with her parents showing her Pre-Code movies on VHS, and pausing it to point out editing choices, and then rewinding it so Zoe could watch the moment again). Because of course Elia Kazan’s granddaughter would have such an upbringing.
It was great to see Pedro Almodóvar, whose history with the NYFF goes way way back. Women on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown was not really taken seriously “because it is a comedy” (Ugh, this attitude drives me insane) and yet NYFF chose it for the festival. These are the moments that change artists’ lives. I remember going to see that film in a little arthouse joint in Philadelphia, and I was absolutely blown away. I had never seen anything like it.
Martin Scorsese closed out the night. He remembered the triumphant moment when Mean Streets opened at NYFF, and the audience had gone totally berserk. He was there with his parents, neither of whom had seen the film before (even though his mother plays a tiny role in it). Scorsese’s parents were both shocked by the film, its violence and nudity and Catholic iconography, the whole thing. Scorsese said he looked at his father during the lengthy ovation, and he said his dad’s face was “ashen.” The three of them came out into the lobby into a madhouse of press. One reporter asked Mrs. Scorsese what she thought and she replied, “We don’t use THAT WORD at home. He didn’t learn it THERE.” But he went on to discuss all of the ways he was involved with the Film Society, and what it really meant, particularly in 1970s New York, a pretty grim time in the life of the city.
I was happy and proud to be there. I even curled my hair. Here’s to more than 50 more years. We need places like Film at Lincoln Center more than ever now.