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Monday, November 29, 2010

Mohsen Makhmalbaf: Gabbeh (1996)

Gabbeh, a movie from 1996, written, directed and edited by Mohsen Makhmalbah, capturing its story from a tiny scene depicted on a Persian rug: a pair of lovers riding the horse.

Gabbehs are one of the many varieties of Persian rugs. They are hand-knotted by women belonging to Lori, Bakhtiari or Qashqai clans: shepherds wandering with their flocks over the Iranian mountains and beyond.

A gabbeh is small sized while much thicker than other rugs; its surface is a symphony of colors: the yellow of the sun, the red of flowers, the blue of sky, the green of grass, all of them meeting there. Life is color, love is color, beauty is color: colors of surrounding nature extended on the clothes they wear and on the gabbehs they craft, these women living under the sun and the clouds, on the grass and among flowers.

As rich in colors as it is, a gabbeh has usually a very basic pattern, sometimes just a small scene some place on the rug.

I am thinking at those Chinese drawings in ink on rice paper, at one corner with a tiny fisherman in a small boat: it's telling a story, the size of a spot, and all the space that remains is just what? emptiness? Or maybe the whole is telling a much larger story? about the artist, about the making of the artwork?

The gabbeh from this movie resembles those Chinese drawings in this detail: there is a small scene on the surface, the size of a spot. A pair of lovers on horseback; and the whole surface of the rug, exploding in colors, subtly supporting the tiny story.

An old couple is carrying their gabbeh to wash it in the river, as they've done everyday, for forty years. It's become a ritual.

A gabbeh and a ritual: we enter the realm of magic. And magic is what we see in this movie: the gabbeh is getting alive, becoming a young woman who's telling the story of the pair of lovers. A story that has lasted for forty years.

We associate rituals with religious practices, while they mean more. Rituals keep alive the collective memory of civilizations. The more primitive a civilization the more obvious.

A ritual, with its precise details, with its precise repetitions, is to keep the remembrance alive: to participate again at an event of significance; to cancel time and to live when the event actually took place. Participation, not reenactment. Father Alexandre Schmemann wrote an admirable book about the Eucharist as Mystery of the Kingdom: you'll find there some great pages about remembrance as participation, as canceling time and be there to witness the Passion, the Death, and the Resurrection.

The ritual of washing the gabbeh here in the movie is personal: the story of the pair of lovers is remembered by the old couple everyday: remembrance as participation, canceling of time.

But, as I said, this scene of two lovers riding the horse is just a tiny part of the whole surface of the rug: the story of love is remembered within the remembrance of that pastoral civilization: the clan of shepherds migrating over the Zagros mountains in search of grass for their flocks. A clan carrying, together with its animals, its primitive culture with severe rules and taboos, necessary for survival. A community kept alive through the force of its culture, a culture kept alive through carefully observed rituals.

And here Parajanov comes in mind, of course, and not only him: also the Chinese Tian Zhuang-Zhuang. They also depicted in their movies ancient communities kept alive by the force of rituals, of traditions, rules that are difficult to be understood as they defy logic: these rules express a cultural matrix, a system of values that defines the group as a whole.

What Makhmalbaf brings in this depiction of a patriarchal culture is the use of colors and sounds: these people have a special sensibility for colors, they spend their lives surrounded by the colors of nature, by the vivid colors of their female clothes, by the colors they put in their gabbehs. And as they spend all their life outside, these people have a special understanding of the language of sounds, be them sounds of the birds or animals, be them sounds of the grass in the wind, of the rocks on the footpaths in the mountains, or of the river. And Makhmalbah succeeded to give an active role in his movie to each sound, to each color: by the way they are placed, by the way they are repeated, by the way they come along with the feelings of people. This movie is a feast to watch.

Gabbeh: Part 1/7
(video by TheReturnoftheSDQ)

Gabbeh: Part 2/7
(video by TheReturnoftheSDQ)

Gabbeh: Part 3/7
(video by TheReturnoftheSDQ)

Gabbeh: Part 4/7
(video by TheReturnoftheSDQ)

Gabbeh: Part 5/7
(video by TheReturnoftheSDQ)

Gabbeh: Part 6/7
(video by TheReturnoftheSDQ)

Gabbeh: Part 7/7
(video by TheReturnoftheSDQ)

(Mohsen Makhmalbaf)

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Sunday, November 28, 2010

Mohsen Makhmalbaf

It's time to bring here another great Iranian director: Mohsen Makhmalbaf. He is a man of cinema, a writer, also a human rights fighter. As a teenager he was put in prison for his revolutionary acts and spent there five years. Due to the tortures he lost the use of his legs and a lot of surgery was needed to make him able to walk again. He continues to be active politically, taking sides in Iran, also in Afghanistan, also in Tajikistan. To protest the Iranian regime, he decided to leave the country. Since 2005 he has been living in France, India, Afghanistan.

As a man of cinema, he is total: creator of features, of shorts and of documentaries, creator of an art film house where he was joined by his wife and children. And some of his writings are about the movie universe.

So far I have watched two of his movies and I'm looking for more. I think the best approach would be to discuss each movie on his own merits: because that's the way I discovered Makhmalbaf, film after film.

(Iranian Film and Poetry)

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Saturday, November 27, 2010

Rauschenberg at Gagosian

Short Circuit (Combine Painting), 1955; Greenhouse (Combine), 1950; and Aen Floga (Combine Painting), 1962

Rauschenberg was at a time within the Pop Art, but he went beyond. For him what mattered was the answer to this question: can the relations between objects go beyond the obvious?

There is a Rauschenberg show at Gagosian these days. Go see it if you can. I would love to be in Chelsea to hang around on the 21st Street, to try some photos, and to write about them.

The images in this post are captured from a review of the show in today's NY Times.

Untitled (Elemental Sculpture), 1953

Dylaby (Combine Painting), 1962, and Three Traps for Medea, 1959

Small sculptures

Untitled (Early Egyptian), 1973

Pilot (Jammer), a fabric piece from 1976

Palladian Xmas (Spread), 1980

(Contemporary Art)


Kevin Brownlow

Kevin Brownlow is a film maker, film historian, television documentary-maker, and author. He is best known for his work documenting the history of the silent era. Brownlow developed an interest in silent film at the young age of eleven. This interest grew into a life-long passion for the cinema and a career spent documenting and restoring film. He is without question one of the most respected and admired historians of the early cinema and has rescued many a silent film and its history from oblivion. Seeking out and interviewing many, largely forgotten film pioneers in the 1960s and 1970s, he preserved a priceless legacy of cinema that would have otherwise been lost (Wikipedia).


It Happened Here - by Kevin Brownlow & Andrew Mollo (1965)

A short montage in tribute to the film devised and made by Kevin Brownlow and Andrew Mollo during the late 50's/early 60's. An analysis of the what if scenario had Great Britain been successfully invaded and occupied by the Nazis in 1940.


In an interview c. 1980, silent film historian Kevin Brownlow discusses French film director Abel Gance:


Kevin Brownlow at Killruddery Silent Film Festival 2009:

Kevin Brownlow at Killruddery Silent Film Festival 2009: Part 1/3
(video by DOCUMENTAVi)

Kevin Brownlow at Killruddery Silent Film Festival 2009: Part 2/3
(video by DOCUMENTAVi)

Kevin Brownlow at Killruddery Silent Film Festival 2009: Part 3/3
(video by DOCUMENTAVi)

Kevin Brownlow received the 2010 Governors Award, together with the great director Jean-Luc Godard and with Eli Wallach, one of the finest Hollywood's character actors. Kevin Brownlow was also invited in Tribeca on this occasion. Jack Goelman and Pola Rapaport were there and told me about the event.

(Jack Goelman)

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Friday, November 26, 2010

Le Sang des Bêtes, 1949

I saw this documentary one memorable evening at the Gramercy Theater: Marcia and Amos Vogel, together with their friend Jack Goelman were there, reviving in front of us the spirit of Cinema 16.

I've already told you all this. Three documentaries had been selected by them, and this one was the most impressive. Almost unbearable, I would say even more, it was extremely difficult to watch, a painful experience.

There is a catharsis brought by art works that are painful to watch. In this case the catharsis does not come immediately. It takes time to sublimate the horrible experience, to get beyond it and to understand. To really understand.

Le Sang des Bêtes (Blood of the Beasts), a 20 minute documentary made in 1949 by Georges Franju (and scored by Joseph Kosma), calmly depicting the everyday work in the abattoirs from the outskirts of Paris. The animals coming here with serenity, suddenly killed and, that's it, immediately skin and legs and head are apart, it all happens incredibly fast. Sometimes bits of life go on for a few seconds. It's horrible. The slaughters make this matter-of-factly, otherwise you cannot resist there.

And as soon as you leave the slaughterhouse, it's normal life, that quiet poetry of normal life: sun, sometimes clouds, whisks of grass here and there, some debris, a pair of young lovers.

And actually it's about death, about our death: we are always dying innocently, and death is just part of life: death is just that, matter-of-fact.

Le Sang des Bêtes: Part 1/3
(video by thiorpaiwk)

Le Sang des Bêtes: Part 2/3
(video by thiorpaiwk)

Le Sang des Bêtes: Part 3/3
(video by thiorpaiwk)

(Jack Goelman)

(Cinéma Français)


Wednesday, November 24, 2010

La Croisière Noire, 1926

La Croisière Noire (Black Journey), the 70 minute movie made in 1926 by Léon Poirier, documents the Citroën Kégresse expedition in Africa in 1924-1925. I have already talked about these expeditions in my previous post, where I focused on the trip across Asia from 1931-1932.

Citroën organized two African expeditions. The first one, in December 1922 - January 1923, crossed Sahara from Touggourt in Algeria to Timbuktu in Mali. The second expedition (from October 1924 to June 1925) - the subject of the movie - was much more ambitious: the whole Africa was traversed from North to South and then to the East coast in Madagascar. It started in Algeria, heading South to Niamey and East to Lake Tchad, then South-East into the Congo basin to Lake Albert. The team split then in four groups for Mombasa, Dar Es Salaam, Capetown and Mozambique, all reuniting in Madagascar.

The lead of these expeditions was the general manager from Citroën, Georges-Marie Haardt who authored a book about the second African trip (The Black Journey: Across Central Africa with the Citroën Expedition).

I found on youTube a documentary produced for ARTE in 2006: En Avant, Toute ! Autour du Monde en Citroën (with the English title Half-Track Heroes - The Crusades of André Citroën). This is a montage that uses the footage from the original movies made on the African and Asian expeditions. The authors are the Germans Christian Schidlowski and Peter Bardehle. It was published on youTube by the enthusiasts from the Zagreb Citroën Klub.

So, it is a very long story, started by 1910 in St. Petersburg, where the Kégresse track was invented, continued in the twenties and thirties in Africa and Asia with the great Citroën expeditions, opening car routes across Sahara and on the Silk Road, immortalized in the two movies that were rediscovered by Jack Goelman in the fifties, then by the two German directors that created the documentary for ARTE in 2006, and finally published on youTube by the passionate Zagrebians from the Citroën Klub.

Finally? This story is going on.

Here is the documentary from ARTE. I dedicate this post to Jack, my great friend from New York who made me know about Georges-Marie Haardt, the Citroën Kégresse half-tracks and their formidable expeditions.

Half-Track Heroes - The Crusades of André Citroën
(video by retro5s5)

Half-Track Heroes - The Crusades of André Citroën
(video by retro5s5)

Half-Track Heroes - The Crusades of André Citroën
(video by retro5s5)

Half-Track Heroes - The Crusades of André Citroën
(video by retro5s5)

Half-Track Heroes - The Crusades of André Citroën
(video by retro5s5)

Half-Track Heroes - The Crusades of André Citroën
(video by retro5s5)

(Jack Goelman)

(Cinéma Français)


Monday, November 22, 2010

La Croisière Jaune, 1933

La Croisière Jaune (The Yellow Cruise), the 90 minute documentary produced in 1933 by French directors Léon Poirier and André Sauvage, is remarkable in many respects: by the story it tells, also by the story of its making, and not less important by the story of its post-release life.

This movie documents the Citroën Kégresse expedition made across Asia in 1931-1932: 30,000 km from Beirut to Beijing on the ancient Silk Road.

The Kégresse boogie was named after his inventor, the French Adolphe Kégresse, who created it in 1910-1912. By that time he was chief engineer at the court of Russian Czar Nicholas II.

After the Russian Revolution Kégresse returned to France and in 1919 he started to work for Citroën. He enhanced there his invention and the result was the Citroën Kégresse half-track: the front gave the steering for the car, the rear gave the driving force. A cross-country car, perfect for the military. It was used by the French army, and not only: US, Danish, and Polish armies used the Citroën Kégresse as well.

André Citroën decided to use the half-track in ambitious expeditions across Africa and Asia. The purpose was to demonstrate in a spectacular way the resilience of Citroën products, but also to open important routes for the wheels, with calculated political and economic gains.

Two expeditions took place in Africa, by the mid 20's. I'd like to talk a little bit about them in a future post. Let's only note that the second African expedition was also filmed: La Croisière Noire (Black Journey), released in 1926.

But let's focus here on the Asian trip.

Meeting with a Tadzhik Chief
(Corbis Images)

For all these expeditions in Africa and Asia the lead was Georges-Marie Haardt, the general manager at Citroën, a man of great style and strict discipline. The success of these cruises is largely due to him.

For the Asian expedition Haardt decided to split the team in two: the Pamir group started from Beirut heading to Kashmir, to pass the Himalayas and then the Gobi desert and to make the junction with the China group who was coming from Tien Tsin.

It started in April 1931. Haardt was with the Pamir group. Climbing the Himalayas was beastly hard and at a certain point they had to dismantle the cars and to carry the parts on the footpaths at 5,000 m altitude.

Eventually they made it and arrived at Aksu in October. The China group was already there (together with Father Teilhard de Chardin). They, too, had had all kind of difficulties and at a certain moment had become the captives of a local warlord in Urumchi. André Citroën had sent the ransom from Paris.

The reunited team arrived at Beijing in February 1932. Sadly, Georges-Marie Haardt was no more with them. Weakened by the whole adventure he took a ship to return home. On the way back he contracted a double pneumonia and passed away at Hong Kong.

The Pamir group included also some movie specialists who filmed the voyage. Shooting at extremely low temperatures and extremely high altitudes on the Himalayan footpaths was as adventurous as the adventure captured by the camera, but it was this way that they got the day after day chronicle. The movie was released in 1933 and it had the success it deserved. NY Times would write in 1936 (when La Croisière Jaune was screened at the 55th Street Playhouse) that the pictorial record of their odyssey, photographed with technical painstaking and an eye to the unusual as the motor caravan toiled between Beirut and Peking, has been edited into a remarkable travel film by Léon Poirier; one which definitely rescues the cinema travelogue from the ho-hum class.

Later in the fifties La Croisière Jaune was part of the selection for Cinema 16 and here is what Jack Goelman says about it: I remember I fell in love with Yellow Cruise. Amos (Vogel) was not excited about it, but I thought it was quite unique and that up until that time no one had really explored the travel film, except by incorporating it into another kind of film. I loved this film, but there was no information about it, so Amos said, okay, you write the program notes. I went to the library and dug up all sort of things, trying to piece my ideas together. I didn't know how good a film it was.

And La Croisière Jaune continued its carrier: in 2006 ARTE presented a documentary that was based on footage from the Black and Yellow Cruises. But I will leave this for the next post. Now you'll enjoy a few videos with sequences from La Croisière Jaune.

La Croisière Jaune : Starting Sequences
(video by tonyfuller)

La Croisière Jaune : On the Himalayas
(video by tonyfuller)

La Croisière Jaune : Crossing an Asian River
(video by tonyfuller)

La Croisière Jaune : Crossing the Gobi Desert
(video by tonyfuller)

La Croisière Jaune : On the Khyber Pass
(video by tonyfuller)

La Croisière Jaune : Film Credits
(video by tonyfuller)

(Jack Goelman)

(Cinéma Français)


Sunday, November 21, 2010

W.R. - Misterije organizma (1971)

W.R.: Misterije Organizma, made by Makavejev in 1971. W.R. stands for Wilhelm Reich, the controversial psychoanalyst who tried to put together Marx and Freud, whose books were burned in Germany in the 30's, and in US in the 50s, the guy who fled from from Nazi Germany to become later a victim of McCarthyism.

The movie of Makavejev is a documentary intercut with a feature. A documentary on Wilhelm Reich, using archive footage and interviews (edited in a way that leads to parody), and a story about a young woman in Yugoslavia of the sixties, an ardent adept of Reich and of the accomplishment of Communist revolution through sexual freedom. She falls for a Soviet ice skater, who cannot leave the Communist dogma and prefers abstinence, so he beheads her. As crazy as all these sound, add to this mix other independent sequences with sex, gays, masturbation, Stalinist propaganda footage, followed by scenes with electroshock applied on political prisoners in Soviet Union. The score is in counter-tempo with the images, suggesting new senses for everything, suggesting also associations with other famous film works.

It is not a movie for the weak ones, definitely not for non-adults. If you have the guts to watch it, it is cathartic.

W.R. - Misterije organizma: 1/10
(video by enigmaforce1971)

W.R. - Misterije organizma: 2/10
(video by enigmaforce1971)

W.R. - Misterije organizma: 3/10
(video by enigmaforce1971)

W.R. - Misterije organizma: 4/10
(video by enigmaforce1971)

W.R. - Misterije organizma: 5/10
(video by enigmaforce1971)

W.R. - Misterije organizma: 6/10
(video by enigmaforce1971)

W.R. - Misterije organizma: 7/10
(video by enigmaforce1971)

W.R. - Misterije organizma: 8/10
(video by enigmaforce1971)

W.R. - Misterije organizma: 9/10
(video by enigmaforce1971)

W.R. - Misterije organizma: 10/10
(video by enigmaforce1971)

(Dušan Makavejev)

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Dušan Makavejev

Dušan Makavejev is a highly unconventional movie maker, ready to destroy any cultural idols he is encountering on his way, be them sexual taboos and theories about sexual liberation altogether, political dogmas from the East and from the West, well established principles of the cinema art, everything. Think at his much younger compatriot Kusturica, think at Godard, think at Oshima. Actually Makavejev is almost the same age with Godard and Oshima, the same generation, the same nihilistic approach. Think also at Fellini in his later movies: the same baroque scope, the same baroque craziness. But think firstly at Godard.

No wonder Amos Vogel has chosen an image from a Makavejev's movie to illustrate his monumental Cinema as a Subversive Art. I will give you here a short excerpt from exactly that movie, W.R.: Misterije Organizma, and I promise the whole movie for my next post.

W.R. - Misterije organizma: Scene from the movie
(video by smitrof)

(Jack Goelman)

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Saturday, November 20, 2010

Film as a Subversive Art

Be uncomfortable;
Be sand, not oil in
The machinery of the
(Günter Eich)

Amos Vogel published Film as a Subversive Art in 1974: his mini-essays on over 600 movies.

The jacket shows an image from a movie (W.R.: Mysteries of the Organism) by Dušan Makavejev: one of the most fit examples of creators of subversive art.

Should a film be subversive? As the Italian saying goes, se non è vero è ben trovato (which sometimes changes to se non è vero allora è ben inventato): if it's not true, it's a good story. Well, it's always true for indie movies; for experimental movies; for art movies. Because once you are not in the industry, you must say something: it means something new, making a difference, your difference. Such movies must shake taboos, attack comfortable beliefs: an independent creator must scandalize. Such movies must be sand, not oil.

And for the people the breed of Amos Vogel only such movies exist: politically subversive, sexually subversive, culturally subversive, or all of these together.

Paul Cronin made in 2003 a one hour documentary about Amos Vogel; the title, Film as a Subversive Art: Amos Vogel and Cinema 16.

Paul Cronin is also a movie passionate, author of books and documentary films exploring this universe.

This movie about Amos Vogel is perfect: the director leaves the room totally for the personage, not imposing any constraint, not framing in any way. The camera just follows the old guy, giving him total freedom. It is a one hour long filmed profile of the great promoter of the subversive movie: Amos Vogel talking very casually about his life, about the history of Cinema 16, about his aesthetic convictions. The result is a wonderful portrait of a fascinating personage.

Marcia Vogel and Jack Goelman are also there in the movie. Which is natural: the wife and the friend, they worked together with Amos all those years to create and maintain the miracle that has been Cinema 16.

I enormously enjoyed to find in the movie a couple of images from Meshes of the Afternoon of Maya Deren and Alexander Hamid. If I were to keep only ten movies on a deserted island, Meshes of the Afternoon would be one of them.


Follow several sequences from the movie. Just enjoy!

Film as a Subversive Art: Amos Vogel and Cinema 16
Part 1/8
(video by TheStickingPlace)

Film as a Subversive Art: Amos Vogel and Cinema 16
Part 2/8
(video by TheStickingPlace)

Film as a Subversive Art: Amos Vogel and Cinema 16
Part 3/8
(video by TheStickingPlace)

Film as a Subversive Art: Amos Vogel and Cinema 16
Part 4/8
(video by TheStickingPlace)

Film as a Subversive Art: Amos Vogel and Cinema 16
Part 5/8
(video by TheStickingPlace)

Film as a Subversive Art: Amos Vogel and Cinema 16
Part 6/8
(video by TheStickingPlace)

Film as a Subversive Art: Amos Vogel and Cinema 16
Part 7/8
(video by TheStickingPlace)

Film as a Subversive Art: Amos Vogel and Cinema 16
Part 8/8
(video by TheStickingPlace)

(Jack Goelman)


Friday, November 19, 2010

Jack Goelman

The name of Jack Goelman calls in mind immediately Cinema 16, the organization that promoted in New York the experimental films of Maya Deren, Stan Brakhage and all the other enthusiasts of the 40's and 50's. Jack worked closely with Marcia and Amos Vogel, the founders of Cinema 16.

Provincetown Playhouse, the first place with Cinema 16 screenings

And it was not only about the New York school of experimental movie: Cinema 16 has actually been the promoter of hundreds of independent filmmakers of all sorts from Germany and Soviet Union, France and Great Britain, from all over Europe, South America, Middle East. Cinema 16 has set the standard for what is called an arthouse and a film club.

There were presentations each Wednesday, and the rest of the week was devoted to reviewing and selecting the movies. It was not easy task to decide on five or six movies, each one of ten or twenty minutes, because they had to fit somehow together.

A certificate of quality was attached to each selected movie

Jack Goelman had joined Amos Vogel after the war. He was by that time a youngster, crazy about indie movies. Cinema 16 was fighting with the lack of money, and Jack started without payment. However, as a demobilized GI he got the financial support to work there and to study also cinematography.

But this had been long, long time ago. I met Jack first time in December 1999. I had just arrived at New York the previous day. I was naturally tired with the jet-lag and all that stuff, but I had to go to the Museum of Natural History. There was an exhibition of butterflies there, in a pavilion that was recreating their natural habitat, and all people I knew were very excited. No possibility of refusal from my part: I was told that I would meet there with family and some new friends. The new friends were Jack and Ellen, his wife, along with Ellen's mother. I enjoyed immediately his way. Jack was a witty guy, with quick responses and a good humor, seemingly having an European kind of being interested in the world. And Ellen was an extremely gentle lady.

Jack had a superb command of French, which was fortunate, as my command of English was far from satisfactory those times (not that now it would be perfect, but anyway), so mixing the two languages was fine for me.

We met in several occasions, then I moved to DC area. I was not coming to New York very often, and every visit had a pretty tight schedule. We were talking by phone now and then.

Once I came especially for him. There was an event organized at the Gramercy Theater, with the Vogel husbands and Jack presenting some short movies from the 40s.

Gramercy Theater, 127 East 23rd St. at Lexington Ave.

I knew somehow the neighborhood, with the Gramercy Park, small, with a Victorian demeanor, hidden behind closed fences, and with the theater on the 23rd Street, only the theater was always closed, except for rare occasions. Now it was one of these occasions.

I was together with my sister Pola and Wolfgang, her husband. We entered the main floor area. There was a numerous attendance. It was a wonderful applause as Amos Vogel and wife Marcia, together with Jack came in front of us. The event's host presented them briefly, then Amos and Jack talked about the documentaries that were selected for screening. There was a French one, then two American. All of them were from the second half of the 40's.

It was the French documentary that impressed me the most: Le Sang des Bêtes, made by Georges Franju in 1949. Very strong, almost unbearable... but it deserves a special post here in the blog. I will talk about it very soon, as I found it also on youTube.

Gramercy Theater, socializing area downstairs

After the screening we went downstairs and stood a bit at the bar there, talking about the movies we had seen. Jack was making a parallel between the subject of the French movie (about the abattoirs on the outskirts of Paris) and a feeling he had experienced once in Chicago, as it happened to pass by the big slaughterhouse there and the memory of the documentary of Franju became overwhelming.

We kept contact after that memorable event, especially by phone. His wife Ellen passed away in 2009 and this was hard. He is very sad with this loss, but anytime when it happens to come to indie movies he has again the huge enthusiasm that I know.